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The Post Goes To Washington

WASHINGTON, D.C. | Dusk is settling on our nation’s capital and the setting sun gives the Washington Monument a soft golden glow. Walkers and runners circle the monument, after-work softball leagues are winding down before dark and a group of tourists is being led around on Segways down Constitution Avenue.
And I have just been to the White House. That’s not a boast; it’s a wonder. Where else but this country can a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks in Gastonia, N.C., find himself eating lamb chops in the East Wing of the People’s House?
President Barack Obama hosted a reception last Tuesday at the White House for the 2013 Presidents Cup team. A small group of media also was invited. I was chosen by my boss to represent The Post.
I mean, when you are invited to the White House, you go, right? No matter how you feel about the politics, you respect the office and go out of your way to show up.
That’s what the players and captains thought, as well. Even though virtually all the golfers on both teams find plenty to disagree about with the president, they came, even Tiger Woods. All of the Americans were in attendance, while six of the International team missed the event because of overseas commitments.
But if I’m going, I need a couple of things, like a new suit and a haircut. The haircut came first and my haircutter was so excited about the impending birth of her first grandchild, she was cutting as fast as she was talking and, as a result, she left my ’do high and tight.
So, it’s clear that I’m going to have a bad hair day at the White House.
Then, I went for the suit. The alterations dude left the hem of my trousers too high, which I didn’t discover until I put my pants on in my hotel room on Tuesday.
If I make my pants ride a little lower and I keep my suit jacket buttoned, maybe no one will notice. In retrospect, I’m almost certain I’m the only one who did.


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