My fiancee and I went to the White House to an Illinois-only party, which was the only one Barack was attending. Barack had his Blackberry and I had my new iPhone, so I struck up a conversation with him at a long, rustic wood mess hall table. Everyone at the party was clicking beer glasses in toasts over the table and Barack put his arm around my waist and leaned in to make a toast, but his hand moved up, unbeknownst to him, so that he was groping me. I was going to tell him but I didn’t want to embarrass him. Later my fiancee and I took a tour of the White House on our own and saw Barack downloading an iPhone app that would allow him to monitor his daughters as they slept, to make sure nothing bad happened to them. Later in our self-guided tour, we overheard Barack in his study, drinking Scotch and watching what sounded like porn. He heard us in the hallway, changed the channel came out and offered to show us around. We declined, saying, “You’re tired, just rest. We’ll show ourselves around.” (I wasn’t bothered by the porn. I thought, the man probably needs to unwind.)
From a 28-year old female writer in Chicago, January of 2009.
I’m working for the President! The headquarters are in the basement of the Capitol. There are laundry machines yet it feels like important things are going on. We are now on the grand grounds of the White House or Capitol and I am with the President. Iam watching him and I marvel. It is just us! I am at a folding table, doing official paperwork. He is on his blackberry. I can hear his conversation. I am doing my work well and with confidence, despite the fact that I have been an at home mother for the past 13 years! I am calm and yet stunned that I am working for him. I feel proud and in awe. I am less a physical body, than all good feelings. Suddenly, a woman (gov. employee) comes and talks to him about laundry as they converse at the other end of the table. I understand that they are talking in code about something very important, and that I should not be there. Barack Obama hands me a key (it is the key to my mother’s apartment) and tells me that I might like to use it to access a place that I might enjoy. He is kind and it is a nice gesture. I leave and walk the grand grassy grounds past beautiful ruins, through my old highschool and on to my home of origin.
From a 45-year old mother of three boys in New York, January 2009
The dreamer adds these comments: “I participate in an occasional dream group with a woman who is a Jungian dream analyst. I have been an at-home mother, but I am very interested in the future of our country, so I spend a lot of time googling information on issues that interest me and listening to NPR. I canvassed for Obama in Philadelphia and I am very excited that he is president. I have worked as a travel agent, and have an MSed.”
This dream offers a good example of the metaphorical aspects of dream imagery. Many of Obama’s supporters felt that President Bush “dirtied” the White House and “tarnished” the reputation of America around the world. The earliest theme of Obama’s primary candidacy was “clean government,” meaning the elimination of corruption and improper influence of lobbyists.
To extend the metaphor of the dream, President Obama’s job (and the job of his supporters) is to clean the country of the accumulated dirt and grime from the previous occupant of the White House.
The special intimacy theme appears here, along with a rather cryptic message to return to her “home of origin.” Perhaps this is a dream variation of “think globally, act locally”? The highest call to national service is to take good care of home and family?
The O-shape of the glass window in many washing machines suggests a possible visual pun with the ubiquitous O in Obama’s campaign posters, bumper stickers, and t-shirts.