Skip to main content

No. 42 and a grande double vanilla soy latte, no foam

Have you ever dropped by the local coffee shop and ended up chatting about college football with a fellow customer?

Has that customer ever just happened to be a FORMER PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES??!

That's what happened to my husband this morning.

Tim heard a rumor from his coworker that Bill Clinton was at a coffee shop across the pedestrian mall from his office, grabbed a print of a photo he'd taken of Clinton at an appearance a few months back, and strolled over to see if Mr. President (of the good ol' happy, prosperous, Iraq-war-less days) was indeed there.

In the shop he found a couple of Hillary's campaign workers, what appeared to be a few Secret-Service'ish fellows, and the Man from Hope himself. Tim walked up to him, said he needed to take the opportunity to shake Clinton's hand, and within minutes, they were sitting there yakking about the Missouri Tigers' and Arkansas Razorbacks' wins last weekend. I'm actually glad it wasn't me who ran into Bill. I'm not sure I would've been able to string two sentences together. Certainly not about Razorbacks football.

I don't know whether this brush with greatness (and in my book, he will always be one of our greatest leaders, regardless of interns and cigars and such) has earned Hillary a couple new caucus supporters. But it sure made our day. And I wasn't even there. I live vicariously through Tim's story. And the autographed photo he's bringing home to show me tonight.

And the hand that touched the HOB (hand of Bill) that Tim's promised not to wash. Just for me.

Comments

Anonymous said…
THAT IS SO COOL!!!!! Tim, you rock! And Amy - you rock more for telling us!!!!!!
2:37 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Holy Separated-At-Birth, Batman!

Gary Oldman...meet Uncle Knit-Knots from Imagination Movers.
Post a Comment
Read more

So, I Changed My Mind

More than four years ago, the blog and I parted ways. I needed a change. A whole lot happened in my world since then. I switched jobs a couple times. My kid went from an elementary school tween to a teenage high schooler. We built a new house and moved. Both my parents and my sister have passed. The world around me changed as well. Mass shootings, racism, the #metoo movement, a misogynistic bigoted narcissist in the White House ... go ahead, add to the list. Toss your woes into this dumpster fire we call 2019.  I appreciate my previous sentiment, that I was no longer wandering. But let's be honest, we're all trying to find our way through this mess. I decided to reboot the blog to give myself a creative outlet, a way to sort through the confusion and frustration and attempt to make sense of it all. I have a voice, and I'm not keen to silence it anymore. Guess what? I'm back, bitches.
Post a Comment
Read more

In memoriam...

I remember the first time I heard the name "Les Anderson." A bunch of Wichita State University communication majors were sitting around on campus, talking about classes they planned to take. Several people warned me: watch out for Les Anderson. He was tough. He had a murderous grading scale. It was nearly impossible to get an A. They weren't kidding. But he wasn't tough just to be a tyrant. From his teaching sprang a fleet of incredible, successful journalists, writers, editors, broadcasters, public relations experts, advertisers, non-profit professionals...I could go on and on. Most importantly, he created a legion of people who wanted to make a difference in the world. The greatest gift Les gave to them all? He believed in them, cared about them for their own personal stories as well as the stories they told for class assignments or in the pages of his hometown newspaper. Les was my teacher. My boss. My mentor. My conscience. My champion. My friend. When I started c...
5 comments
Read more