The White House

Yesterday I had the privilege of walking through the White House. I must admit, however, that I was markedly underwhelmed. My imagination had created a much better image of the White House over the years than what one sees when they are actually there. And my imagination was erased by a few minutes of reality.

I believe part of the problem (most of the problem?) lies with me. I don’t like antiques and old stuff. And my late wife Sharlene had taught me many basic principles of interior decorating – many of which were tossed aside by whoever put together the butt-ugly greens, yellows and flowers that adorn many of the rooms at the White House.

Don’t get me wrong: the White House is dripping with history. And there is a lot of wonderful artwork hanging there. Each room echoes out the clatter of dinners, meetings, and get-together’s from years gone by. So it is a cool historical monument.

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But that is where it ends. Downtown Washington DC is a cacophony of sirens, horns, tourists and industry. Add to that the smells of an inner city and the never-ending vibration of a busy people, and you have the opposite of where thinking, inspiration, and peace might otherwise be achieved.

Nonetheless, I have been there. I have walked where so many millions of Americans have walked before – through parts of the White House. And having done that, I can advise those writing their bucket list – cross this one off.

Ha!

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