Welcome to my back yard. I'd invite you in to sit a spell and enjoy a glass of sweet tea, but the sharpshooters on my roof tend to frown on uninvited guests. They also tend to point first and ask questions later. So you'll have to view my back yard from a distance.
It wasn't always like this. About 35 years ago you could actually come through my back yard and into my home. I would even take you on a tour of my lovely house. I would explain many of its historic values and sometimes I would even invite you into my den--more commonly known as the Oval Office. If you were real fortunate, I'd even take you to the kitchen where, occasionally, I'd fix myself a late night snack without anyone else having to do that for me.
I enjoyed showing off my home and my back yard because I really felt like it belonged to everyone--not just me. We'd light a huge Christmas tree together on the grounds. We'd hunt Easter eggs together after attending a Christian church service that morning. Oh, how I long for those days when we could all enjoy my home and my back yard.
But those days are gone, thanks in part to 9/11 and some in part to my own choosing. Now I like to think of this place as "mine." I don't have to share it with anyone else. Wrought iron fences surround my back yard and you can peek through the fences, but you can't advance any further. You don't have that right. You're a commoner. But perhaps someday, when we once again begin using the constitution that was framed by some extremely wise men well over 200 years ago, we'll all be able to tear down those fences and enjoy my back yard!
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