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Time Travel Wish can't get no satisfaction! No money to promote discovery, bummed.

Time Travel Wish can't get no satisfaction! No money to promote discovery, bummed.
4.28.16 request for communication answered. Undeniable circumstance and physical evidence.

2 undeniably related communications.

2 undeniably related communications.
2 undeniably related communications

Now IT IS VISIBLE for the WORLD to SEE and have HOPE!

Now IT IS VISIBLE for the WORLD to SEE and have HOPE!
Now IT IS VISIBLE for the WORLD to SEE and have HOPE!

an amateur can spell amatuer either way he likes at Time Travel Wish and Paradox One, the discovery

an amateur can spell amatuer either way he likes at Time Travel Wish and Paradox One, the discovery
True: Successful before it was created, Time Travel Wish and Paradox One, the discovery


Tuesday, June 9, 2015

A Couple of Clinton Stories of Mine

When We Shook Hands . . 

I just remembered another Clinton story of mine. This one may be important here. It relates to Hillary's choice of men and her choice of William Jefferson Clinton as her lifetime partner.
I think it was 1995 or 1996. It was Spring. Bill had been on a whirl-wind tour of California, heading south to LA. <-- is that a lyric? Hmmm .. .  So he was due to stop in Salinas, California. I had the time and so decided to go to hear him. I was at this time very concerned about assault weapons. I wore my favorite black baseball cap in which I could pretend I was a submarine captain - a kind submarine captain. It was hot out, not very hot but Bill had to sit on the top of the steps of the Salinas City Hall and wait in the sun for the local speakers to finish. He was double tasking, working on his notes and listening to everyone speak - at the same exact time.

I was about five bodies back in from the rope line. He did not talk guns although that city would have been the perfect place for that discussion, to my disappointment.  As the procession of Secret Service and he began to walk the handshaking line I managed to put myself at the front of the rope line (sorry old lady, some people are more important). So my turn was approaching to shake the hand of a great man and he was almost to me. But for some reason I turned my head to my left and saw that a father was trying to get his son ahead of the crowd to shake his hand. So without thought I reached for the man's son. I raised him and brought him to Bill so they could touch, I spun the boy around (he was smiling huge) and his father was grateful and thanked me. I thought that I had just missed a chance to shake his big puffy (inflamed from hand shaking) hands. But no. Bill saw that kind action. He waited for me. We shook hands.  :-)  Aware, sensitive, watching for kindness, ready to repay that kindness. Wow. A good choice Hills. :-) 

Salinas TV station has this footage. Black cap can be seen. Act can be verified. :-)

Hillary and Chelsea on I-395 . .

My only story of being close to Hillary and Chelsea being this is Moms' day (is it?).  I think it was 2001 or 2002: I had been living in Connecticut since Spring of 2001. I had been driving my girlfriend to the New London train station for her singing engagements in New York City. In my defense; I would have been glad to drive her and screw around in the city, eat bagels, talk to cops, go to the GWP dog park with the fellas and try to find Joan Jet or maybe Pat Benatar (maybe have sex with), or maybe find Genine Garafalo and make her laugh very hard until she emesis her fluid through her nasal passages and perhaps all over the sidewalk and then snap a quick shot of that - I would have given it to her to keep. But, other celebrities would show up there and satisfy that celebrity closeness quick thrill (like ol Lou Reed, I mean, just seeing that he could walk was kind of amazing in itself), but she loved the train. So, I had dropped her off and saw her train leave - as all gentlemen should do! [they are trying to get rid of the explanation mark; more on this conspiracy at my weblog. Backup: At the train station there are ferry terminals/docks nearby. Two of them are very popular. One line makes the Martha's Vineyard run. Locally, this is known as the most pleasant way to get there and come back at night all happy and rested. On a weekday or a Sunday for instance, at this time of the year of this story the ferry had very light traffic from Martha's Vineyard.  Okay; So, I returned to the interstate from New London and was driving north on I-395, happily back home to pretend I was a REAL bachelor, don't ask about this activity, please.  Umm. . Where was I?  I was in the left lane passing some traffic and I came upon a commonly seen but uniquely governmental protection activity in the right lane. I once had to wait for almost 1.5 hours at an exit ramp in New Orleans for g-dammed Dan Quayle who was happily running late and did not inform the NOPD! Jeez! If you are a politician and you DO NOT want a whole community to vote for you, this is how it is done. All your great decisions in office may be overlooked by this emotion invoking activity - we Americans have no time for this shit. :-] So, I am too familiar with these fine security officers and the clear patterns which pretty much give them away even at a great distance. So, it was two well heavy black suburban assault vehicles or SAVs and they were sandwiching a light blue economy class rental car, a four-passenger vehicle. I was passing at a consistent rate of speed and so was likely not seen as any threat. However, I was high up seated in a white Toyota pick-up. I realized quickly it was probably somebody important and I should drive by respectfully (in case I meet them one day and they have a lot of money), not drawing any attention at all to the fine California marijuana in the hubcaps [Okay Grammarly: I know this is wordiness it's me.] I grew out of it soon after; actually smoked it all. The driving, with the wheels, was all wobbly and variably shaky for a while until it was all gone. I guess I should have just removed each stash from each wheel all at once. Hindsight. :-(   So, as I passed the blue car and in my typical American fascination with celebrity phenom I was compelled to glance at the driver and passenger. Two floppy straw hats from that Martha's Vineyard gift shop near the terminal did not quite conceal them. As trained and reminded prior to their trip, they did pull down the left brim of their hats as a high vehicle was approaching on the left - great safety measure. Great learned habit. I now have one and do the same thing. Except mine has a price tag hanging on it like what's her name, from Hee Haw and I have fruit like that other lady who dances really well to Latin music with really good balance. Age revealed. :-(  

Hillary and Chelsea's unique hair stylings were known to me, avid politics observer, and so I quickly presumed I was seeing them. Hillary's jaw line is also familiar and that was the giveaway as I passed. There was some emotional conversation going on. Chelsea was only occasionally glancing to Hillary, but she turned her head quickly to the right a couple of times as if not wanting to engage. I had wondered why they were going to drive so far, to New York state, up through half of Connecticut to Massachusetts, west on the Mass Pike for hours, then hours north to their new home. Hmmm . . . . I type here sometimes.  Recognizing a communication difficulty was in an occurrence I attempted to speculate what may have been going on in that small rental car. .  .hmm again. So, the Clintons; Many turbulent years had passed, the years in the White House were over. The inter family adaptation to having been in that busy spotlight, with all that very personalized controversy must have taken a toll on the ability to communicate in that special family. For a daughter at Chelsea's age, this is a sensitive time between some mothers and daughters, never mind that that Chelsea had lived in an extreme circumstance (comparative to the rest of us, unless you have lived with me), she had to adapt to rumor and innuendo at school, whispers, gossip - we can all imagine. Yes G wordie, stop this. Communication after a time like this needs to be reestablished. It had been enough time past since leaving Washington D.C. for the families' thoughts to come to understanding, conceptually. It was time for mother and daughter to spend some long hours trapped together in a small car learning of that new communication that will be needed. Assume this and assume it with some accuracy: Hillary was being an active and engaging and courageous mother for her daughter at just the right time. She took initiative. She was sensitive enough to know that that long car ride was a damn good idea.  I have no doubt that after that car ride a new kind of relationship was formed. A past presidency relationship, more like the mother and daughter relationship that Chelsea needed at that exact time. If we could all have mothers like this. Advocates. Sensitive and aware. Observant of feelings. Creative enough to find a way to break through that new post-pubescent wall of fresh judgments that so many teenagers become stuck in. Bravo, Hillary.

Hills: You can be my mom if you like. I know you miss it. That grandchild won't be enough, you'll need someone cute to pet and to be concerned for right there in the Oval Office. I offer my free labor of pretending to be your child for about four years. I can pull it off. For the security of our nation, I have some earplugs and you can control what I hear. :-) 

By the way Chelsea, you remember that white truck if you think about it, because you noticed that bright green radio flash symbol that kind of looked like a marijuana leaf, above the words Radio Free Monterey, didn't you? You were looking for distractions, it was uncomfortable, I know.  

I should say here: The black SAVs were almost perfectly spaced in proper Secret Service professional etiquette and I could actually feel the very observant and judging awareness of their minds as I approached in the left lane. A favor guys, maybe for this one compliment - how often do you get them? Hell, I may need you one day. :-) Red haired kid at Lafayette Park every fourth of July with the huge bong who kept waving  it at the White House. Remember? Those days are gone. :-( 

Next; the story about the 13-year-old bored hyperactive kid who rode his white Raleigh ten-speed bicycle all the way through the United States Capitol building.  :-)  he he he he he.  Oh D.C. is a blast!

Copyright Reserved: James Gray Mason, March, 2015. 

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