So…as I am still a bit taken aback by the events of last night, I'll endeavor to keep this entry short – limiting it only to the more salient points. Last night. I met The MAN! I don't mean The Man – as in the [White] Man that is responsible for brining down the party and oppressing everyone that is not him, I mean the MAN as in the Man of the Hour of the year of the decade. Last night I managed to cross paths with Number 42 the Most Honorable William Jefferson Clinton.

 
There are certain people in the world that have a power about them. These people seem to exhibit an almost tangible field of energy that surrounds them and affects all people who come in contact wit them. Most of them are in positions to bend many of those others to their will, and for the weak minded, cause total and abject devotion. In the instances where people of this power have no viable outlet, these men become pimps. Let's be real that power to subvert the weak to your cause often ends in the exploitation of the weak, and our Nation in particular has a history of cultural, physical and political prostitution. This is not to insinuate that President Clinton has whored out the American People for his benefit. There are many in other industries that manifest that same power and have used it for creation as well. There have been stories that have circulated about many historical figures including Prince, Cleopatra, Michael Jackson (in his day to be sure), Rick James Liberace, and even Ann Boleyn. In each of these cases the sway that these figures held was not always connected (and NEVER exclusively connected) to physical attractiveness or sexuality alone. In any case the past President certainly is a member of that fraternity – he's got the Glow.

The power of Bill Clinton was made more evident by those who were present at this function – partially to act as a foil to him, but also showing who will show up when Clinton is planning on being in the room.  In addition to #42, the dais received Ernie Jones of the Little Rock Nine, Dr. Dorothy Height, Senator Bob Dole, and Dr. John Hope Franklin.

Let's take a pause and review those last three names:
 
Dorothy Height
John Home Franklin
Senator Bob Dole

Not to discount the legacy of any President, but were are talking about a pantheon of cultural and political icons that were rendered to all but stage dressing once the man entered the room. I was able to push aside (or take part in) the line of dilettantes and fan-boys and manage to meet the man for a brief moment – and that was a trial that took almost 20 minutes. I was able to walk right up to Dr. Franklin and even had a chance to hare a few words with him as well, but though he had a glow it was not as strong as Clinton's. (Te Be fair Dr. Franklin is 85 years old – I doubt that he's done any glowing fro almost 25 years now.) When Mr. Clinton's detail walked into the room there was a perceptible change in the energy of the meeting. I can only liken it to a herd mentality in which the group senses danger or an imminent move. From the time in which he entered the room to the time he left there was only one focus of attention – whatever he said and did. Those whom shook his hand felt as if he'd been waiting just to see them, and those to whom he spoke seemed as if they were greeting an old friend. These things have been said before, but if you were in doubt I'm here to tell you brothers and sisters. It's real. REALLY real.

Some people call it charisma, but we all know what it is. Sure I'm impressed by all of the things that Clinton has accomplished, and yet, as a man there are some things that no matter how old or learned I become a part of me – as in all men -- will still hold a certain level of respect. Game Recognize Game. One of my co-workers reminded me that  I got a nice warm handshake from a man who's hand has seen more tail than an air traffic controller.  Other than just being the President, a Rhode Scholar, musician, ambassador, and educator he is without a doubt. Pimp of the Year.