Clueless in Washington

When there's a major kerfuffle in my family the first thing I call for is intelligence collection. I need data to assess the situation. Someone put a dent in the car? Who got caught smoking? Who was reported for making out on the football field? All of these are situations that need some serious attention. Would I cancel vacation because of any these incidents which have in fact have occurred (and way worse)? NO.

Like our Commander In Chief I like to collect all of the data, see who is to blame, what the details are and then apply the consequences in a manner that's appropriate to the degree of infraction that has occurred. Blame isn't always a key factor. Sometimes just reviewing the occurrence with all of our family members and deciding on what a better course of action would have been is sufficient.

You know, like when your child comes home with bad grades on her report card. And the teacher confirms she's not turning her homework in on time?

So I understand when, a few weeks after the attempted terrorist attack, President Obama is trying to play bad cop (and doing a woefully inept job at it) while he reviews a huge amount of intelligence data. Those pesky Jihadists. Can't they see our national tone has changed and we are trying to be nice to them? Gee willackers Beaver, how should we proceed?

First of all let's send them a clear message.

I need my chillin' time, even the real news agencies are up in my business

After all it is Christmas. Good ol' George ruled many a crisis from his Waco, Texas ranch.The President can work anywhere. Sufficient staff was "in position" in Washington to expedite any crisis that needed handling. Not to worry. We are talking about a well oiled machine.

"The system worked seamlessly"

The system maybe didn't work as well as it should have

 "I said there was NO SMOKING GUN !"

Meanwhile, the Hawaiian vacation continues for the Obamas.

Now I'm feelin' it, oh yeah

Michael Leitner, Director of National Security and Counter-terrorism heads to the slopes for some father-son bonding.

Hellooo? It was a failed terrorist attempt people.

In Monterey, CA contemplating a change in his not quite ready for prime time status , Leon Panneta, head of the CIA.

Finally,they may think I'm relevant after all

Back at the ranch, reality starts sinking in for John Brennan, Deputy National Security Advisor.

Craappp. I think I may be in charge of this hen house.

Earlier in the week the Prez was officially "back in the howse". The President admits someone screwed up and let the diaper bomber on the flight from Amsterdam to Detroit on Christmas day. This is a matter that I can certainly can relate well to. My husband, who is a road warrior, was out of town on 9/11 and now frequently flies the Amsterdam to Detroit route on Northwest Airlines.

Not to worry. Raymondo wasn't on the route that day. We were all safely ensconced in the Austin, Texas Marriott concierge lounge when I first heard about the terrorist attempt to blow up NW 253 from Amsterdam. Hearing the news I immediately did a mental inventory of the whole family (all present except the pastry chef daughter who was stuck in Chicago).

My anxiety grew that week as the day for our flight home approached after the incident. I was down right panicked about  how I was going to make it through the 3 hour flight home if I couldn't get into my purse for lip balm or mints, if I couldn't use my computer or at least read my Charlaine Harris novel the last hour of the flight. I'm easy to torment, just bore me to death for 15 minutes and I'll be suffering.

We got to the Austin airport way early in case there were any complications, but it was business as usual. I had decided to check our bags so we wouldn't have any extra hassle in security (just didn't know it was going to cost me $20 a pop). I made sure my 14 year old had packed her way more than travel sized acne clarifying lotion in the bags to be checked. We played the pick out the future terrorist game while we waited.

On the plane, the only hitch came when they announced that we were to prepare for our landing. One geeky dude got up and headed back to the restroom. We all watched him cautiously out of the sides of our eyes and held our breath. We civilians have to have eyes in the back of our heads these days. After a few suspenseful seconds the largest stewardess used her mass and power to command the wayward passenger to "GET BACK IN YOUR SEAT, SIR!" He submissively did as told.

Other passengers in other airports haven't fared so well this week and many of our airport weaknesses have been on the telly 24/7 for the whole world to see. President Obama has chalked up a lot of face time since he returned to DC impersonating a tough guy, threatening to hold the people who dropped the ball accountable.

Only, so far that has not seemed to happen. All the bungling bureaucrats involved are still on board the last I heard. It seems in another political A.D.D. moment, the chance to act swiftly has come and gone. Our leader has finally admitted we are at war yet seems to support the decision to try our most recent diaper bomb terrorist in criminal court (ala Kahlid Shiek Mohammad) instead of as an enemy combatant.

You can bet the TSA will have more authority to torment elderly people in their hover chairs along with families traveling with children and strollers. The race is on for more high tech equipment to detect trouble at the airports. Next will be the challenge to find money to pay for this technology.

Lord knows what will be the next thing we need to be searched for. Thankfully young Islamic radical men don't wear exploding tampons or no menstruating female would be allowed to fly. Maybe we should surrender all of our personal clothing and underwear to the TSA and don hospital gowns wear while we fly.

But that would be too cold. How about safe flight sweats, all fleecy and cozy. That however would be a sizing nightmare. Plus there would be a lot of, but orange is not my color complaints. It must be bed time cause I am getting punchy now. Before I turn in I'll leave you with this eerily predictive memory from the Democratic primary commercials. I'm sure you remember this woman and the famous 3 a.m. emergency phone call ad questioning her opponents ability to handle a crisis when it really counts:

I told you so.