The Truth

Washington D.C. does have it's charm. It was a beautiful day in D.C. yesterday. Everything went smoothly into Ronald Reagan airport (oh how clean and efficient, Ronnie would be proud!), and I took the metro (very clean too) to my hotel on K street. The place smells like money. This is where all those lobbying firms who work so hard for their clients by helping Senators & Representatives write bills, taking into account the needs of big Pharma, and Big Oil and Big Insurance, making sure that their interests are considered. Who is lobbying for Grandma? And the trees, and the birds, and the little homeless man on the corner, and well, shit, who is looking out for you and me?

Anyway, I had time to just walk around the town, and it was kind of cool, somehow I found myself in Chinatown, and it was lively and funky and sort of fun. It's amazing to be in a city all alone, not knowing a soul, living on an expense account. It's kind of strange, and lonely, and well, I actually kind of like it too.

So anyway, later in the day, I find out that all my battles at my job have now led me to "super-secret-double-probation." Yikes! I am on thin ice. I'm not even sure I'm supposed to talk about it here. Obviously, I believe I'm the offended party, I have the facts, the truth on my side, but in my political battle this does not seem to be helping me. Oh well...what are they gonna do next, revoke my library card?!

There's a picture of Honest Abe in my room. I remember we say of George Washington, "he never told a lie." Somehow in our mythology of America, telling the truth is supposed to be important. Well, then, there's the myth and then there's the reality, and then somewhere in there there's supposed to be this thing we call the truth. It's supposed to set us free...hmmm...there's freedom and then there's freedom...and well, is anyone really free?