Yesterday, while most sane folks were at home shoveling their driveways or sitting by the fire, we were out chatting up strangers about the joys of giving thanks in front of the White House.
Technically, we were there as a “protest” — and as tempting as it was to draw anarchy signs on our foreheads with liquid eyeliner –we don’t take ourselves that seriously. Only because the National Park Service doesn’t have an application for Shameless Self Promotion were we classified as “demonstrators” in the first place.
We applied and (much to our surprise) were granted a authorization to “protest the lost art of giving thanks.” Since all we wanted was someone to let us set up shop by President’s pad, we were thrilled to get a fancy permit in the mail from the Department of the Interior.
After two chilly hours in the park, we handed out over 800 business cards and despite temperatures in the upper 20s, persuaded a few dozen tourists that their fingers wouldn’t get frostbite if they wrote a note for our submissions page. Add to that the fact that the Secret Service told us we were the ”happiest” protesters they’d ever seen, and said “I don’t care about that permit” when we tried to show it to them, we’d say it was a good day!