Just as Obama fatigue sets in, Barack takes off for Hawaii. On Monday, returning home from my summer vacation, I saw his plane arrive at Boston Airport, taxiing down the runway like any ordinary jet. It was bright and sunny in Boston, but Chicago was in the midst of summer storms. I was lucky that after a good deal of flight delay and cancellations, I made it back to Chicago in time to go to bed. My luggage arrived a little later--12:30 on Thursday morning to be exact. While I was happy to have my suitcase, I think they could have brought it at a more reasonable hour.
Somehow I didn't think that the Obama family would take that huge plane that I saw in Boston to vacation--I don't know why I envisioned the Obama family
flying commercial, but somehow I did--that's why this picture of Barack Obama going up the stairs to his private plane on the way to Hawaii surprised me.
With the exception of the ocean and the many harbors I saw on my trip, the New England states mostly looked like Illinois or Indiana; even the Green Mountains in Vermont didn't look very different from home. It was sort-of like being caught in an endless loop of traveling through Winnetka and Harms Woods, with most of the scenery being trees and white wood houses, and I was a little disappointed. Nevertheless, it was good to return to some places I had seen before and finally seeing all the New England states.
On the last couple of days of my trip I was suffering with a cold, and after I got home I spent all Tuesday in bed. No matter how well the oceans are doing after the appearance of Barack Obama on the scene, (and a new
special Obama salute that Barack's team has adopted directly following his trip to Germany) I thought it might be my duty to report that my Obama sighting did not
heal me, not even one little bit.