I love to run in the morning, after Roan goes to school and before everything else has my name written on it. This morning, though, I was really interested in crashing the Clinton Global Initiative (CGI) for no good reason other than I’m fascinated by it. So I combined these two tasks, put on my running shoes, and headed out the door. My goal was to run from my home in Brooklyn to mid-town Manhattan at the Sheraton Hotel where all the big dogs were hanging. I’ve never done that run, so it could be fun. Plus my Fat Cyclist Jersey was begging to be represented. So.
I’m about to leave when one of my new Secret Service Homies tells me not to leave, and in fact to just stay right where I was. In. Walks. Former. President. George. Bush, Sr. Dude looks just like my dad!! He was quickly shuffled into what looked like a closet but who am I to judge? So the man likes a closet? This is America and I Love Freedom and Our Troops! So I’ll be defending his right to walk into a closet until I die. It’s just who I am. Let’s face it. I went to the CGI hoping to trainspot someone important and while my groupie-self was kinda hoping for Bono or Armstrong or *sigh* Clinton, I got the Big Bush. Serves me right for going without an invite.