On the deep grammar of the White House Correspondents Association Dinner 

Friends, White House Correspondents, countrymen lend me your ear…pass me a beer and a small plate of fear. The rotten part of me loves the hypocrisy of folks running around the District of Columbia with “Press” badges on. If it wasn’t for all the social lubricants in the rooms and after parties the entire experience may as well be Chaplin flick with ragtime jazz playing in the background. The White House “Elite” rubbing elbows in a silent movie where everyone is smiling and not one soul dares to flick the “mute buttons” off their collective lapels as the whole show would go from Barnum and Bailey to Bobby and Whitney (which in my humble opinion is/was the only real reality show).

It is very difficult to behave as a journalist at the White House Correspondents Association Dinner when your mouth has been sewn shut, your arms have been chopped off and you need an IV in your neck to get anything into your body that resembles a “spirit”.
D.A. Medina

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s