As of now, I am in control here, in the White House

The Obamas Go Biking

A nice bike ride is the activity for this morning. A very cute scene ably described by the Wall Street Journal’s Elizabeth Williamson in this pool report just filed. I do feel, though, that they should keep us nosy press types out of this and just do it privately. But since it’s out there, I share it with you.

10:39a we arrived in West Tisbury, where the 5,100-acre Manuel Correlus State Forest, which occupies the center of the island, is criss-crossed with a network of dirt and paved bike trails. The airport where we stopped occupies the center of the forest. The forest offers a variety of activities including horseback riding, skiing and frisbee golf. The poor island Heath Hen, now extinct, used to reside in this forest. Google’s your friend for addl info.

We took a position 60 feet off a narrow paved trail waiting for potus and co. to pass. Secret Service stopped and swept a couple cycling through, then let them pass, another couple walked a giant mastiff and small pug came thru, wandering somewhat cluelessly off the trail in our line of sight. Sasha came first in white top and brown shorts followed closely by flotus in grey sleeveless top and white cropped pants. After a short break came potus in white shirt and his grey jeans looked to your pooler rather mom-like. He was smiling and laughing, said “hi guys” to pool. Next was Malia, also laughing, in blue sleeveless top and shorts. All four in the family wore helmets, unlike last year when potus did not wear a helmet.

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18 Responses to The Obamas Go Biking

  1. This has been a long week–at least I could get on this site this AM–did all the rude meanies flee? As for what they wear–two words for all: STY-LIST.
    I have given up on them as trendsetters.

  2. Barry would never keep the press out of a family photo op.

    Barry and Michelle Antoinette use everything and everyone (including our military and their girls) as props.

  3. I guess they have to keep in the public eye so we’ll all see again how much just like us they are. But really, I’ve never had such a great vacation, never eaten in such fancy places, never had so many vacations in one year. They really are more like millionaires than ordinary people.

  4. And to add to the mom-like discussion, I doubt Obama is homosexual. He’s a metrosexual guy — takes care of his appearance and does the sports that don’t require bulk muscle, sits around more than he carpenters or mudbogs. I wouldn’t care if he was homosexual, but just want to point out that every straight guy doesn’t have to be a jarhead to be masculine. Just as every woman doesn’t have to have fake blond hair, a pink dress, and high heels to be feminine.

  5. Mr. Obama’s continued *non-cajones vacation* simply undermines the very fabric of our country as we watch him devour lobster, golf and live-in-luxury-at-our-expense … without even a hint of manhood.

    I repeat: he should have spent his time hiking / fishing / camping in upper Montana, West Texas or climbing in the Rockies … doing *something* that does not make him look like a de-cajones, lactating twirp.

    Did you see the picture? Heavens.

    And that helmet! Are we *this* feminized?

    Mr. Obama’s handlers steer whats left of the portage toward the fractured left; his appearance as a weak, vasilating, corrupt Alfalpha(male) with these over-the-top, expensive trips (while America suffers double digit unemployment) reeks of Banana Republic.

    Sheesh.

    Teddy Roosevelt hiked and camped in the Grand Canyon. Even Bush pretended to chop wood at Crawford.

    Come on Mr. Obama: GROW SOME. Do something *masculine* on your vacation!

    Oh wait … press pool report coming: POTUS now heading to Starbucks to order … a half-caf-double-latte-with-lemon-spritzer. “Good choice” says Jake Tapper of ABC News. “First rate, Mr. President” says a smiling correspondent with NPR. “POTUS now moves to take bit into a Very Berry Coffee Cake. Could the calorie count possibly take away from his those striated pectorals? Stand by.”

  6. I just saw the pictures and all I can say there are going to be a lot of photoshops of him on the bike. I didn’t think the photo of his biking around Chicago could get any worse, but using a bike that would be more suitable for a 10 year old tops everything and that nerdy helmet. I can see Putin and other foreign leaders laughing. Perception is everything.

  7. Granny Jan:

    I was thinking the same thing: the bike was too small and certainly juvenile. All that was missing was a plastic number plate on the front with the POTUS Seal in that silly Obamalography.

  8. As a firm believer in “don’t ask, don’t tell”, I’d like everyone to keep their private lives, um, private. None of my business and I like it that way.
    The nincompoop advisors that he brought with him from Chicago should have had him put on some waders, carry a tackle box and put the fishing pole over his shoulder for a photo op. He doesn’t actually have to fish, just look like he’s fishing. Optics, people.
    The POTUS riding a girl’s bike is not a good optic. A motorbike, a Harley but not a girl’s bike.
    As for Mr Bloomberg’s incidental appearance on the golf course, the nincompoops must think we are as dumb as they are.

  9. I can’t wait to see the photo-shopped POTUS on a bike video.

    I was talking with my partner and we agreed that the PR failure, so blatant and so disporportional to the value in which the Presidency *should be seen* reeks of elitism.

    “I wonder if they will now put him into a pair of leather chaps and harness for the annual M.V. Pride parade?”

    Oh my.

  10. D. Montgomery – Next time you correct someone’s grammar don’t make an error/a** of yourself. The Obamas is merely plural not in the possessive state. I learned that in the fifth grade.

  11. I was out at weekend party with Democratic activists (mostly Hillarista’s) and the talk around the martini glasses hovered over Mr. Obama’s severe lack of masculinity, affinity for women’s talk shows, and his inability to impress gay men with some form of “butch.”

    Some chatter around the clinking of martini glasses:

    —> “He’s such a douche. I mean, come on. A women’s bike. Who is in charge?”

    —> “We’re lucky he was not on a bigwheel.”

    —> “Hillary would have gone vacationing with a large lesbian on a Harley, dressed in black leather, studs and German stahlhelm.”

    —> “He looked like a spokesman for Huffy.”

    —> “Michelle, can I got out and play?”