From RZHOM@aol.com Sat Aug  1 15:08:01 2009
Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2009 15:07:29 EDT
From: RZHOM@aol.com
To: hojack@hargray.com, Setzersrv@aol.com, hal@panix.com
Subject: Fwd: Dinner with Obama, a parable


I felt a little sick to my stomach when I finished reading  this.  Is this 
really happening and we don't know???  PLEASE  respond..........
 
  
____________________________________
 From: Lowski775
To: Billyjh
BCC: RZHOM
Sent: 8/1/2009 2:17:28 P.M.  Eastern Daylight Time
Subj: Fwd: Dinner with Obama, a parable





Subject: Fwd: Dinner with Obama, a  parable



 
 
 

 
  
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Dinner with Obama, a parable

Once upon a  time, I was invited to the White House for a private dinner 
with the  President. I am a respected businessman, with a factory that 
produces  memory chips for computers and portable electronics. There was some talk  
that my industry was being scrutinized by the administration, but I paid  
it no mind. I live in a free country. There's nothing that the  government 
can do to me if I've broken no laws. My wealth was earned  honestly, and an 
invitation to dinner with an American President is an  honor.

I checked my coat, was greeted by the Chief of Staff, and  joined the 
President in a yellow dining room. We sat across from each  other at a table 
draped in white linen. The Great Seal was embossed on  the china. Uniformed 
staff served our dinner.

The meal was  served, and I was startled when my waiter suddenly reached 
out, plucked  a dinner roll off my plate, and began nibbling it as he walked 
back to  the kitchen. 

"Sorry about that," said the President. "Andrew is  very hungry."

"I don't appreciate..." I began, but as I looked  into the calm brown eyes 
across from me, I felt immediately guilty and  petty. It was just a dinner 
roll. "Of course," I concluded, and reached  for my glass. Before I could, 
however, another waiter reached forward,  took the glass away and swallowed 
the wine in a single gulp.

"And  his brother Eric is very thirsty." said the President.

I didn't  say anything. The President is testing my compassion, I thought. 
I will  play along. I don't want to seem unkind.

My plate was whisked  away before I had tasted a bite.

"Eric's children are also quite  hungry."

With a lurch, I crashed to the floor. My chair had been  pulled out from 
under me. I stood, brushing myself off angrily, and  watched as it was carried 
from the room.

"And their grandmother  can't stand for long."

I excused myself, smiling outwardly, but  inside feeling like a fool. 
Obviously I had been invited to the White  House to be sport for some game. I 
reached for my coat, to find that it  had been taken. I turned back to the 
President.

"Their  grandfather doesn't like the cold."

I wanted to shout- that was  my coat! But again, I looked at the placid 
smiling face of my host and  decided I was being a poor sport. I spread my 
hands helplessly and  chuckled. Then I felt my hip pocket and realized my wallet 
was gone. I  excused myself and walked to a phone on an elegant side table. 
I learned  shortly that my credit cards had been maxed out, my bank 
accounts  emptied, my retirement and equity portfolios had vanished, and my wife  
had been thrown out of our home. Apparently, the waiters and their  families 
were moving in. The President hadn't moved or spoken as I  learned all this, 
but finally I lowered the phone into its cradle and  turned to face him.

"Andrew's whole family has made bad financial  decisions. They haven't 
planned for retirement, and they need a house.  They recently defaulted on a 
subprime mortgage. I told them they could  have your home. They need it more 
than you do."

My hands were  shaking. I felt faint. I stumbled back to the table and 
knelt on the  floor. The President cheerfully cut his meat, ate his steak and 
drank  his wine. I lowered my eyes and stared at the small grey circles on the 
 tablecloth that were water drops.

"By the way," He added, "I have  just signed an Executive Order 
nationalizing your factories. I'm firing  you as head of your business. I'll be 
operating the firm now for the  benefit of all mankind. There's a whole bunch of 
Erics and Andrews out  there and they can't come to you for jobs groveling 
like  beggars."

I looked up. The President dropped his spoon into the  empty ramekin which 
had been his creme brulee. He drained the last drops  of his wine. As the 
table was cleared, he lit a cigarette and leaned  back in his chair. He stared 
at me. I clung to the edge of the table as  if were a ledge and I were a 
man hanging over an abyss. I thought of the  years behind me, of the life I 
had lived. The life I had earned with a  lifetime of work, risk and struggle. 
Why was I punished? How had I  allowed it to be taken? What game had I 
played and lost? I looked across  the table and noticed with some surprise that 
there was no game board  between us.

What had I done wrong?

As if answering the  unspoken thought, the President suddenly cocked his 
head, locked his  empty eyes to mine, and bared a million teeth, chuckling 
wryly as he  folded his hands.

"You should have stopped me at the dinner  roll," he said.

Healthcare is  next.








 
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