Would They Go To Islands. Subject: Barack Obama

If not familiar with Islands or the point of this post, click here: http://peelingtheskin.blogspot.com/2011/05/would-they-go-to-islands-subject-one.html

Not that Barack Obama is ever out of the news, but he’s front and center again this week due to the debt ceiling discussions.  And while defaulting on debt would probably paralyze the entire world’s economy, the more pressing question in my mind is whether or not Barack Obama would join me for lunch at Islands.

While it’s true that Obama is a people pleaser, and has eaten at small town diners while on the campaign trail, this is not an election year, nor does he really have to impress me to win the hearts of voters.  So, unless I invite him on national TV like I was a poor character from a Dickens novel (would you please join me for a spot of lunch, Mr. President, pretty pretty please, suh), he would probably feel no obligation. 

Not to mention, Obama seems like a health-conscious man, which eliminates 95 percent of the Islands menu, severely limiting his choices.  But there is one small detail about Obama’s life that suggests a place like Islands might interest him.  He was born in Hawaii! (well, maybe not according to the birthers…but according to normal people!) 

Here’s a scenario I envision:

He’d balk at my initial invitation, but once convinced, he’d enter Islands and discover something even the great explorers of America could not:  the fountain of youth.  He’d regale me with stories about his childhood, strolling the beach with his grandparents, drinking out of coconuts with his friends. “Is that a parrot,” he’d ask, while noticing the fake bird over a booth of lunching senior citizens.   “I once had a pet parrot as a kid.  I used to visit him in the jungle on weekends.  I called him Pete,” he’d continue. Then, he’d lean back in his chair and recall the island breeze as the overly cold air conditioner blew brisk air across his face.  He’d notice the Tiki hut and tell me how it reminded him of both Hawaii and Indonesia on hot summer days. I’m sure he’d excuse himself to the bathroom, take off his shirt, and wedge himself under the sink nozzle to remember what it was once like playing under a waterfall…when things like arguing with congress weren’t even thoughts in his mind.  Then, once the check was paid, he’d thank me for the brief opportunity to feel carefree and that, hopefully, one day he could return to Hawaii to live out his days in peace.  But if he couldn’t, at least he could visit this fine chain restaurant anytime he wanted to feel young again.

Or…

He’d agree to go to lunch with me, only to suggest a different place, and then would convince me by telling me he’d pay.

VERDICT:  He would not go to Islands.