I'm going to spot President Obama this last flight.
Back in the Winter of 1947 my Dad was coming back from Korea. He'd been there at the end of WWII and stayed until his hitch was up. When he got back, he was issued a new winter coat. When he looked at his papers, he got hot.
"I'm supposed to go to Miami Beach," he said.
"You're hometown is Cincinnati, Ohio." the guy said.
"Yeah, but I went in at Miami Beach, Florida."
said my Dad. In truth, although the family's home was outside Cincinnati, Dad had followed the family to Miami just before his induction, explaining to his draft board that the family worked in construction during the winter in the Miami area and kept a house there. Sure enough, my Dad's papers showed he'd gone into the Army from Miami Beach, Florida. Grumbling, they gave him a ticket to Miami.
Then they wanted to coat back. If he wasn't going to Cincinnati, he didn't need the warm woolen overcoat he'd been issued. At this point, Dad said they were going to have to take it off him by force. Dad was the biggest guy there. He'd been a muleskinner in the pack artillery, and he looked it. Nobody wanted to get hurt, so the let Dad have his coat AND the ticket to Miami.
So if President Barak Hussein Obama wants to fly to Hawaii on his way out of service to his country, I'm willing to spot him the ticket. If he wants, I'd be willing to give him a winter coat and $80 traveling money.
