An Open Invitation to the President-Elect

I heard part of Barack's 60 minutes interview on the radio this morning, and this part bummed me out:

That's something that I don't think I'll ever get used to... Being able to just wander around the neighborhood. I can't go to my old barber shop now. I've gotta have my barber come to some undisclosed location to cut my hair. You know, the small routines of life that keep you connected I think - some of those are being lost. One of the challenges I think that we're going to be wrestling with is how to stay pretty normal.

I suppose this is one of the downsides of being such a young president-- they'll have to put up with high security and celebrity not just for the next eight years, but for many more after. Losing the ability to luxuriate in the routines and occasional moments of quiet anonymity that keep life sane-- that is a dreary loss to weather.

So I'd like to extend an invitation. If, President Obama, you ever need to step back from the hustle, bustle, and tussle of Presidential life, you are welcome at my Columbia Heights apartment for an evening of chilled out, non-presidential normality. We'll have a few working man's beers (Slev and I share an affinity for the brews of the proletariat), watch some SportsCenter (assuming we get cable by that time), and shoot the shit about life in DC. Michelle can come too.

Any time, Mr. President. It would be my pleasure.