On Election Day in 2004, I got a surprise call. Again, the voice was familiar.
“Hi, Dana. George Bush here. How ya doing?”
“Hi, Mr. President. Uh, isn’t your son running for re-election today?”
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“Yeah. But how are you doing?”
“I’m fine thanks. How’s the election looking?”
“Don’t know yet. But Bar and I saw you on some ‘S.N.L.’ reruns last night and wondered how you were doing.”
That was who he was. Always making sure everybody else was O.K.
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