Gold ticket and a shower

Dear blue-ticket holders who didn’t get in to see President Barack Obama speak last week,

What is wrong with your self-esteem? I don’t mean your politics. I mean the idolatry of politicians has to stop.

That’s what I want to talk about today.

You’re right. Having any president, sitting or former, stop by to use a local community venue as his bully pulpit is an honor. Obama's message last week to increase opportunities for college bound students was important.

But to those of you who were there hoping for a glimpse or the opportunity to shake his hand I would like to address something about his stop in Central New York that has me a little bit concerned: the way his staff treated the people outside and the reverence you have for him because he is the president.

Please, don’t get me wrong. I firmly hold that any sitting president deserves the respect of every United States citizen. He was elected to serve us all, even if we did not cast a winning ballot. Likewise, all of our elected officials work for us and deserve our respect for their willingness to hold public office. But they must return that respect for We the People. And we do not owe each other awe or veneration.

According to local news reports, when the tickets to attend Obama’s remarks were meted out, some of you, the blue-ticket holders, queued overnight on Monday Aug. 20, just for a chance to get a ticket. 

You blue-ticket holders waited again for several hours on Thursday Aug. 22, just for the opportunity to get inside the high school auditorium. And when the skies opened up with a typical late-summer rain and its torrents drenched the people outside, not one of them had an umbrella. 

The sacred pass forbade them from carrying one. 

And then it was you, the wet, tired blue-ticket holders who were turned away at the door when the seats were filled.

Meanwhile, the elite red tickets were handed out in offices across the region to other politicians, local officials, and high ranking community members. A red ticket allowed its holder to pass through a shorter ‘express’ line where it has been reported in social media that bottled water and granola bars were served.

My questions here for you, the blue-ticket holders, is this: would you treat anyone in your life the way you were treated? And, why would you let your government - which is supposed to be working for you – treat you this way?

The Syracuse Post Standard reported that among those turned away was Susan Fahey Glisson, the president of Parents for Public Schools. You would think that she would be an important person to have in the room during a discussion about education. Where was her red ticket?

In a report the following day, reporter Tim Knauss, wrote:

“Glisson got all dressed up, as did most of the people who went, including lots of young children, she said. For an hour, they all stood in the rain while the line did not move, Glisson said. The metal detectors could not be deployed in the rain. Then came word from inside the school: Nobody else would be allowed in.

“Glisson's shoes -- bone leather pumps -- were ruined, she said this afternoon. Her iPhone no longer worked, despite sitting for a day in a cup of rice to remove the water. … Glisson said she believes Obama would be concerned if he knew how badly some of his fans in Syracuse had been disappointed.”

Wait, what? Fans? As in, an enthusiastic devotee, follower and admirer of the famous?

Ugh.

Obama’s staffers owe each of you blue-ticket outcasts an apology for making you wait in line all night, not arranging to have adequate shelter when their ticket asked you to leave your umbrellas home and for not telling you that the auditorium was overbooked as soon as they knew.

The president owes you an apology for being so isolated that his staff felt they could treat you all this way. He also owes you the gratification of knowing what ramifications they suffered for treating We the People so badly. Because he is a lame-duck, your vote no longer has any power over him.

Meanwhile, you should have checked the weather before you left home, worn something drip-dry, the old veneer pumps and put your iPhone in a plastic bag. 

Best always,

Reb