Every year the White House Press corps hosts an end-of-year holiday gathering in their dark basement workspace to celebrate the end of another year. For the past 15 years, Salem Radio Network News correspondent Greg Clugston has written a poem for the occasion, touching on the highs and lows of the last 12 months.
Here’s his latest:
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas 2013
White House Press Basement Version
by Greg Clugston
‘Twas the night before Christmas and in the White House,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that a farm bill soon would be there.
The daughters had visions of sweet candy canes,
While Mrs. Obama dreamed of veggies and grains.
The president was sleeping — he dozed off without trying,
As the NSA conducted all manner of spying.
There was outrage over tapping Merkel’s cell phone,
But POTUS insisted it was all overblown.
Justice went snooping on the journalistic trail,
Seizing AP calls and snatching Fox News email.
What a frustrating year since his re-election win,
Blocked at every turn by House Republicans.
Obama reached out with all the “charm” he could muster,
The GOP responded with a sequester and filibuster.
Budget discussions sent America reeling,
As both sides debated the nation’s debt ceiling.
Fingers of blame pointed all across town,
When the government suffered a partial shutdown.
Gun control failed despite shootings across the nation,
And Congress left town without passing immigration.
In Egypt, the “coup” proved hard to define,
While Syria’s attacks clearly crossed a “red line.”
With Iran taking steps toward a nuclear state,
POTUS pushed a deal that left Israelis irate.
Even honoring Mandela, provided no break,
Scandals over a selfie and a Castro handshake.
Pete Souza captured it all, standing near Obama‘s side,
And the press corps revolted when told, “access denied.”
All of a sudden, there arose such a clatter,
Obama jumped up to see what was the matter.
It was Kathleen Sebelius standing at the door,
Her face — pale white. Her eyes — on the floor.
Away to a desktop they flew like a flash,
It was healthcare.gov — a serious crash.
They tried logging on, but couldn‘t get through,
‘Twas a bumpy, embarrassing, online debut.
It was labeled a “glitch,” a definite setback,
Not even close to Amazon or Kayak.
Obama grabbed a football, as if ready to spike it,
Promising yet again: “keep your plan if you like it.”
But I heard him exclaim, in a voice that was humbled:
“Merry Christmas to all! On health care, I fumbled.”