The next day the head of Presidential Protection for the Secret Service handed Joe his card and told him to call if he had any questions. The next morning, more F-16s appeared, then large tricked-out vehicles, burly men, a sniper team, and a few dozen people disguised as tourists (but packing heat in fanny packs) all came about the ferry.
All of this prior planning, and all of this expense, so that the president could visit the island, take a walk, grab an ice cream cone, and say, 'Hi folks!' After his visit it was off to the Vineyard. Whattacountry! Now the aforementioned begs this question. How in the name of heaven did the two tabloid-driven, 15-minute-of-shame, celebrity-wannabes get in the same breathing space of our president . . . in the White House!? . . . We have tighter protocols for loading our ferries, for crying out loud.
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