#897 I Have a Code

The big presidential transition is underway. It’s interesting in this day of sudden access and instant gratification that we have to wait 2 1/2 months for a new president to take office. Especially when we’ve been enduing a campaign to put him there for the last 22 months.
It’s like baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies, and then not being able to dive into them while they’re warm and gooshy.
You’ve gone to all the effort to bake those cookies, now you have to stay back and starve till they get cold and hard.
It’s not as bad as it used to be though. In the old days, new presidents didn’t take office till mid-March. Apparently, as we were on the brink of the last great depression, Herbert Hoover asked incoming President Roosevelt to make a joint statement on the economy to reassure the public. Roosevelt refused, saying, “It’s not my baby.”
The depression ensued.
I have a great deal of respect for Roosevelt, but I think that it probably wasn’t very presidential of him to choose that moment to engage in a little neener-neener.
Let’s hope this transition goes smoother.
One thing they’ve already transisted is the Obamas’ Secret Service code names. The President Elect is known as Renegade. Perhaps because he is such a change from the policies of the previous president. Lest you think, as I did, that “Renegade” could possibly be construed as unflattering, Obama had a say in its selection. The First Lady is known as Renaissance. The daughters are Rosebud and Radiance.
The code names are what the Secret Service whisper into their microphones to each other to announce movements of the principles. That would have been all well and good if no one knew about them. But obviously they aren’t very secret, so what’s the point?
If terrorists are monitoring radio traffic, do you think using the word “Renegade” is going to fool them—since you’ve previously broadcast it to the entire world?
Not that coming out of a big white house and getting into a limo with a bunch of guys surrounding you talking in their lapels isn’t a dead giveaway.
America, ya gotta love it.