The Obamas were recently spotted on Necker Island, chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool and all.
The former president has on a backwards baseball cap! The former first lady is rocking pigtails! They are chill,y'all. The Obamas are the only two unbothered people on planet Earth right now.
On one hand, they have worked extremely hard against some massive opposition (that is now being conveniently forgotten *cough* Merrick Garland *cough*), so they deserve their rest. On the other hand, how much rest does a person really need?
You need to get back here, Obamas. When the street lights come on you better be in this house.
You have to wonder just what's going on on this vacation. Fortunately, we received a leaked copy of Barack Obama's island diary. It's written on a palm leaf in margarita salt. This man is really relaxed.
7 A.M.
I've decided to turn the baseball cap backwards myself.
I had thought of waiting for a stylist to arrive to do it for me. I don't want to look like a rube. Is there a particular vertical angle I should be going for? And how about horizontal? Am I going for a Will Smith as the Fresh Prince thing? Are the '90s back? Are the '60s back? Am I back?
Should I go back?
I received a text from Joe last night. It was just three dots. I thought he was typing for the better part of an hour but I think he's just mad.
He's being dramatic.
I understand. He understands. I can't go back yet. And so it's hard. It's hard for everyone. This late age of the world's experience had bred in them all, all men and women, a well of tears.
I think go for 45-degree on the Y-axis with the hat. Yes, that's cool.
7:15 A.M.
Okay, I'm done vacationing.
Do I have to not be president for the rest of my life?
Maybe I can play George Washington in Hamilton for a while.
I think I'll teach myself the fiddle.
7:30 A.M.
The fiddle is too ironic an instrument for me to be playing at this time in our nation's history.
8 A.M.
FRUIT LOOP FRENCH TOAST FOR BREAKFAST!
I am so excited!
Michelle even had some! I teased her about it and she responded, "It has the word fruit in it."
She's so clever.
She's been spending a lot of time on the phone with her friend Olivia. I don't know an Olivia. She's also taken to wearing a lot more white than I've seen her in and when she made dinner reservations last night, she turned to me and barked, "It's handled."
I'm not sure what's going on but I like it.
9 A.M.
I went for a walk on the beach. This whole place is beach. It's an island. I get it. I'm from Hawaii. But this place is so much smaller. You can't escape the ocean, which is both great and terrifying.
My signal strength hasn't been the best so I haven't been able to check the news, which I know is good for my mental clarity. Sometimes I just stare out over the waves and watch them roll in and then out and then in, the perpetual otherworldly motion, the depthless expanse lending a sense of a calm while also cementing the idea that every bit of life is dangerous.
LOL, I had one too many mimosas! I'm going to take a nap.
1 P.M.
Has the president called?
2 P.M.
We have a surprise visitor! We heard the rattle of helicopter blades in the distance as we sat down to a late lunch. Michelle spotted it growing larger on the horizon. She looked at me. We didn't say anything but we both were thinking it: They've come to bring me back. The American people have had enough.
I turned my baseball cap forward.
The helicopter touched down and out stepped John McCain.
I nearly fell over.
2:10 P.M.
John and I are sitting in silence on the veranda.
This whole house is verandas. It's a prison of stunning views and cool breezes. I think, suddenly, of how the Oval Office has no corners. It sends a chill up my spine.
John fiddles with his pocketknife. Finally he speaks.
"So, you're just going to be happy forever, then? With this island life?"
"It's more than that," I say. "But it suits me." John is silent again. I venture, "How is it back in the world? Is it terrible?"
"It is. The governmental side of it. The people have been extraordinary. It's only the end of January and I'd bet most of the country has used up their vacation days to protest. It's become a weekly thing. This is America, ultimately. Team No Days Off."
"That's great," I say. "How can I help?"
"Oh." John looks startled. He quickly stares down at his pocketknife. "I actually, um, this is awkward. I'm actually here to see Michelle. We have some business to attend to."
A flash of white catches my attention just beyond my peripheral vision. I turn just in time to see Michelle, in a billowing white caftan, boarding the helicopter.
I turn back to John and he's already standing. He nods. I nod back. I wave to Michelle tentatively.
She stands on the steps of the helicopter and calls out to me. "I'll be back in time for dinner! I'm just off to save the world."
And then she's gone.
3 P.M.
I turn my baseball cap back around. I lie down on the beach without even bothering to put down a towel. I close my eyes. I enjoy, for a moment, the vast blank slate of time and the growing warmth of the sun.
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