My Position on the White House Bees

One reason I would want to be president is because of the bees. Do you think for one minute that either Bill or Melania give a rat's ass about the White House bees? I honestly fear for all 70,000 of them if either Hillary or Donald gets elected. My husband, on the other hand, keeps a pot of honey on the kitchen table, and every morning he slices his baguette in two and puts orange marmalade on one half and a big dollop of honey on the other. He will protect the bees.

Questions to Ask Yourself Before Running for Prez

Your new workplace.

Today a dear friend suggested that, were I to become the first female U.S. president, I “would not like the job.” Her concern triggered some serious soul-searching. If you, too, are thinking of running for president (because honestly, will there ever be a better time?), I urge you to ask yourself the following questions, which I have helpfully bullet-pointed.

* Are you qualified? I answered this question yes, because the job is basically making speeches, right? I’m pretty good at making speeches. I can even write my own. In fact, I've been writing my own speeches since seventh grade, when I did a humorous presentation, in Miss Weeks's English class, about how to give your dog a bath (my former classmates will testify to its success).

* Do you really want to live in Washington, D.C.? The fact that the job comes with a place to live is a plus for me, since I am essentially homeless, having spent the past five years living in my mother-in-law's apartment. On the minus side, D.C. is hot in summer and I have absolutely no friends there.

* Do you really want a chauffeur, a cook, a housekeeper, a secretary, and a private jet? Of course you do.

* Can you live with the office email system? Because I'm told it sucks. On the bright side: You will have your own office. Not a tiny cubicle furnished with a drawer full of paper napkins and plastic spoons and a dog-eared copy of Words Into Type but a real office with an ergonomic chair and a door that you can shut.

* Can you live on $400,000 per year and a pension of $200,000 (plus a little extra for things like postage)? Yeah, me too. I mean, I've never tried it, but I'm sure I could manage. Besides, as the first woman president in U.S. history, I bet I could get an amazing book deal.

xo Sadie

Above: President Obama meets with a Secret Service agent and his family in the Oval Office (2014).

In My First 100 Days As POTUS

Dear potential donor: Have you noticed that since this wacko election season began nobody has said boo about what he or she would actually do on the off-chance that he or she were to wind up in the Oval Office?

Let me be the first.

If I were POTUS, I would be-quick-as-a-bunny to act on the following initiatives in my first 100 days:

Agriculture. IMO, every public school and federal prison should have an organic garden, and the kids and the inmates should do the work. Research shows that pulling weeds and experimenting with kale recipes is good for people.

The environment. America has too many lawns and not enough butterfly gardens. Lawns are basically chemical dumps. Lady Bird Johnson planted wildflowers along the Interstate; I will ask people to toss out their power mowers and plant black-eyed Susans and milkweed.

The arts. Our nation is in serious need of art therapy—just look at all the nut jobs in politics today. I propose Art Fridays, when everybody—carwash attendants, corporate vice-presidents, congressional leaders—gets the day off to make and appreciate art.

Reforming our criminal justice system. We need to put more animals in prison. Caring for a pet makes us better people, and a lot of dogs, cats, and horses need a loving home.

Notice my use of the subjunctive, above: If I were POTUS, this is what I would do. Because I'm still asking myself whether being the nation's chief exec is a job that a sane person would volunteer for. Will let you know my decision by the end of next week.

Love, Sadie

PS The photo is of a community garden in Detroit.

Sadie the Cleaning Lady

I don't know about you, but I think this would make an excellent theme song for my new unofficial presidential campaign. The song was a hit in 1968 and it's still popular, at least in Australia. Here are the lyrics. Would love to know what you think.

Sadie, the cleaning lady
With trusty scrubbing brush and pale of water
Worked her fingers to the bone, for the life she had at home
Providing at the same time for her daughter

Ahh Sadie, the cleaning lady
Her aching knees not getting any younger
Well her red detergent hands, have for years not held a man's
And time would find her heart in spite of hunger

Scrub your floors, do your chores, dear old Sadie
Looks as though you'll always be a cleaning lady
Can't afford to get bored dear old Sadie
Looks as though you'll always be a cleaning lady

Ahh Sadie, the cleaning lady
Her female mind would find a way of trapping
Though as gentle as a lamb, Sam the elevator man
So she could spend the night by TV, napping

Ahh Sadie, the cleaning lady
Her aching knees not getting any younger
Well her red detergent hands, have for years not held a man's
And time would find her heart in spite of hunger

Ahh, scrub your floors, do your chores, dear old Sadie
Looks as though you'll always be a cleaning lady
Can't afford to get bored dear old Sadie
Looks as though you'll always be a cleaning lady

Ahh Sadie, the cleaning lady
Her Sam was what she got, hook, line and sinker
To her sorrow and dismay, she's still working to this day
Her Sam turned out to be a nervous figure

Ahh, scrub your floors, do your chores, dear old Sadie
Looks as though you'll always be a cleaning lady
Can't afford to get bored dear old Sadie (fade)

Why I Should Be President

Ever since I had a complete nervous breakdown for two days last spring, I have been wondering what to do with the rest of my life, and this morning, while peeling carrots for chicken curry, it came to me: I should run for president! Consider:
(1) I have never before run for public office and I have no political experience of any kind. This alone should endear me to millions of voters at both ends of the political spectrum.
(2) I happen to be a woman, so my presidency would be just as historic as Hillary's but without all that baggage, since I have never met Henry Kissinger or Dick Morris or any of those people.
(3) I have a nice husband. He would make a fine First Whatever. He is an immigrant, but the right kind of immigrant. Meaning that he comes from a country that is part of NATO.
(4) I can read (handy when using a teleprompter) and write (handy for signing bills into law).
(5) I do not have a dog. After I am elected, I will need to get one (every White House family should have a dog). Deciding what kind of dog I should get will spark a national debate, one that diverts media attention during my first 100 days. This is when I plan to sneak controversial legislation through Congress—i.e., while the dog debate is going on and attention is diverted.
(6) I love the arts. Every artist should vote for me. We will do lots of art projects while I'm in the Oval Office.
(7) I have not named any buildings after myself, so if you decide to name your building after me (because I'm the first woman prez and artists love me and all that), you can be the first.
(8) I am not as elderly as my potential rivals, both of whom are due for a major stroke or something. At least Ben Carson seems to think so, and he's a doctor so he should know.
(9) I am basically of sound mind, despite that wee episode back in April, which I will fully explain as soon as Donald Trump publishes his tax returns.
(10) Speaking of tax returns, I have filed one every year since 1972 and I can prove it. I used to spread everything out on the kitchen table but now I use Turbo Tax (like Mrs. Sanders). I have never been audited. Somewhere I read that never being audited is not necessarily a good thing (it means you might be paying too much), but for me it is.
Bonus: I have never been to prison, except to visit friends and relatives. My husband did once spend time in a Zambian jail cell, but that was before I knew him. Besides, he was never formally charged with a crime, and ultimately he escaped. If you want more details, you can read them here.

Why I Didn't Write This Week

Fakarava Lagoon on Bora Bora. This is where I was, mentally, on the evening of June 27. Photo: Grégoire Le Bacon

I was actually sitting right where I am now, on my living room sofa in Avon-sur-Seine, watching a YouTube video about Bora Bora, when I heard the thunk. It was nearly 7 p.m., and the street below our apartment was streaming with rush-hour traffic.

   The thunk was followed by dead silence and then a shout.

   That thunk, I thought, was a car hitting an object that was not very solid. Possibly a bicyclist or a pedestrian.

   My husband had gone down the street to Le Smile, the neighborhood pub, to have a beer with his friend Pascal.

   I thought, Patrick should be almost home by now.

   I thought, maybe I should investigate.

   I thought, but maybe I’ll just sit here and watch this Bora Bora video instead. Because if something bad is happening down there, it’s really not my business. There is nothing I can do. And Patrick will be home soon. So I’ll just finish watching this video and then we’ll have dinner.

   And then the phone rang. And I thought oh, shit.

   A man’s voice said in heavily accented English: “Your husband has been in an accident. He is in the street. He is okay. The doctor is here.”

   There was some muffled discussion and my husband’s voice came on the line.

   “Hello, darling. I’ve been hit by a car. I’m just across the street from the Carrefour Market.”

   “I’m coming.”

   Eight days later, Patrick came home from l’hopital de Fontainebleau with a broken pelvis and some spectacular bruises. His arms were wrapped in gauze, and there was a big bandage on his head. I went to the pharmacy for a wheelchair, a walker, pain medicine, sleeping pills, bandages, and compression socks.
   That is the number one reason why I didn’t write this week. Or last week. Or the week before. The accident happened 25 days ago.

Malintent: Airport Scanners in the Era of ISIS

This morning, as I was rifling through an online archive of stuff I wrote several years ago for Condé Nast Traveler I came across this ancient blog post about airport security (below), which mentions something called Malintent. The scanning system, which Homeland Security was developing at the time, was supposed to read your mind and warn the nation's supercops if you were planning to commit a crime. I, for one, assumed the crime would take place in midair, or perhaps on the runway, unless Malintent stepped up to save the day. Needless to say, the entire scenario sounded very Orwellian and sinister.

   Given recent events, I decided to check what was happening with Malintent. According to the DHS website, they're still working on it (it's now in a testing-and-tinkering phase).

   Europeans were not too keen on the scanning booths that were emigrating from America in 2008. Maybe they realized their limitations. It is hard to imagine how even Malintent might have prevented what happened in Brussels this week. Obviously, the world has changed a lot since the spyware development program began. By the way, the proper name for Malintent is Future Attribute Screening Technology, or FAST. 

October 31, 2008

Europe Balks at the Scanning Booth

The future of security scanning?
AP Photo

by Sara Tucker
Invasion of the body scanners!
Digital penetration!
The TSA wants to see you naked!
   Such were the warnings when scanners that bare all began cropping up in the nation's airports last year, starting in Phoenix. "Are you up for this?" Slate asked its readers as JFK and LAX stood in line to receive the equipment. "Are you ready to get naked for your country?"
   Then came this year's rollout and another spate of headlines. "Body-scanning machines that show images of people underneath their clothing are being installed in 10 of the nation's busiest airports," announced USA Today in June, calling the proliferation "one of the biggest public uses of security devices that reveal intimate body parts."
   But apart from the media and the ACLU, nobody seemed to care. Instead of an invasion of privacy or an Orwellian threat to their personhood, most passengers caught in the bovine shuffle through airport security perceived the glass booths as just another boring obstacle in the long, dull slog to their departure gates. That's because they "have no idea how graphic the images are," contends the ACLU's Barry Steinhardt.
   "In a nation infamous for its loud and litigious protesters, the silence, the absolute and utter silence on this issue is screaming," fumed a reader at Slashdot.

Now, however, the scanners are popping up in European airports, and the Europeans are saying not so fast. Citing "serious human rights concerns," EU lawmakers last week called for "a detailed study of the technology before it is used." Germany denounced the equipment as "nonsense."
The word from America: Get over it. Body scanners are "the wave of the future," a TSA official told USA Today back in June. "We're just scratching the surface of what we can do with whole-body imaging."
   In the works: A scanner that can read your mind. "Like an X-ray for bad intentions" is the way Fox News describes Malintent, a contraption that uses sensors and imagers to determine whether a passenger, say, is planning to blow up the plane.
   "There is a point at which you think--I can't write about this, it's a joke or a skit," notes technology blogger Renee Blodgett. "But it's not." Still in the testing phase, Malintent looks "very promising," according to a DHS spokesman.
   To those who would dismiss such gadgetry as "security theater," a reader of the "common sense" blog Ugly Ass Opinion ("Common sense still kicks ass") has this to say: "Homeland Security will now be sending an agent to live in each of your homes to make sure you're not a terrorist. . . . You must feed and clothe him at your own expense. He will bring his own toothpaste, though."

Further reading:
*India's use of brain scans in courts dismays critics (International Herald Tribune, September 2008)
*The Things He Carried: Airport security in America is a sham (Atlantic Monthly, November 2008)
*Homeland Security detects terrorist threats by reading your mind (Fox News, September 2008)
*Homeland (video): A seven-minute "thriller" from the 48 Hour Film Project (Best Editing, 2008)