The past three weeks have been a whirlwind - my family took a little vacation, I have been to College Station twice helping my two oldest get their place ready for move-in, and work has been insanely busy.
And yet, I can't imagine that my busy work and family life begins to measure up to the schedule of the POTUS. My family drove (that is a blog post unto itself) some 2,200 miles roundtrip, in 7 days, seeing the sites of the Four Corners region and counting all the green cross dispensary signs in the Durango, Colorado area. We had a lovely vacation rental, plus two medium range hotels on the road. The kids got some souvenirs, we ate a couple of nice meals out, no taxpayers were needed to fund our activities. Both Mr. H and I worked a bit from vacation, putting out fires in our respective work places, and cementing our value to our workplace in the knowing that there were things they just couldn't do without us.
Meanwhile, the First Family jetted off to the Vineyard, again. During their sixteen day vacation, they took side trips to the Hamptons, again. Ate expensive meals at exclusive restaurants, again. Partied like they aren't paying for it, again.
And, yesterday, for the 305th time, the president played a round of golf. While he was raking the sand after his bunker shot, people in Louisiana were drowning, watching their homes flood, losing a lifetime of memories. People in Milwaukee were looting, rioting, setting squad cars on fire. And, at the other end of the spectrum, American athletes continued their quest for Olympic gold. There is a commercial that airs frequently during the Olympic coverage, an NFL spot that declares, "This summer, we are all one team". Wouldn't that be a nice sentiment for the president to promote by showing support during the games?
Way back when, I thought I was reaching when I guessed that Obama would play at least 200 rounds of golf during his presidency. Let's assume an average of 6 hours is devoted to each of the rounds he plays - and that is likely conservative considering the time he must devote to deciding where to play, who to play with, getting dressed, commuting, looking for his ball in the sand trap, etc.. 305 rounds multiplied by 6 hours equals 1,830 hours. That is 46 forty-hour work weeks. If we were to add in all the vacations, how many years was this clown actually working, versus playing? Don't get me wrong, I am happier when he is 'out of the office', but I am floored at the thought that he was able to do so much damage in so little actual time at work.