[The campaign track record of our Serial Liar In Chief. Some nice pics by the way of some of the 'ordinary' people our would be man of the people hob nobbed with in San Frans in 2008. A far cry from his early days with Frank Marshall Davis when when he wasnt reciting quotes line by line back from Karl Marx's "Das Kapital" to his mentor he was being bounced on Mr Davis tumescent male appendage. Here are some of the captions, man of the people, my @ss!]
"Around 4:30, the millionaires started to arrive. And yes, I'll call them millionaires, because I'm pretty sure Ann Getty doesn't have too many poor people in her famed Rolodex.
Across the street, I found a newspaper (probably dropped by a previous rubbernecker) which featured a photo spread about the Gettys' renowned parties. Since their address is not widely publicized, I suppose the person was using the photos as visual clues to the mansion's location.
A no-nonsense guy with a crew cut held The List: all arriving guests, no matter how rich or famous, had to check in with him to confirm that they were approved for admittance.
As the sidewalk swelled with arriving millionaires, the police set up a perimeter around the building. I pointed out to them that the street in front of the Gettys' was still public property -- so couldn't I walk down the block if I wanted to? The police were actually quite nice and said yes, in fact, I could indeed walk right past them down the block to the Getty house if I really insisted. They were only there to discourage any potential party-crashers. Even so, I didn't have the nerve
Next, the bomb squad showed up, to check the area out in advance of Obama's arrival.
Every now and then limousines (in this instance, an extraordinarily long one) would deposit Getty guests in front of the mansion.
The real logistical problem with the fundraiser was parking -- there was nowhere to put the scores of cars that were showing up every minute. Guests would leave them idling in the street, and valets would one-by-one drive them off to mysterious distant parking spots
As five o-clock approached, the crowd swelled. A few key people were let inside, but the rest of the millionaire riff-raff had to wait out on the sidewalk.
Watching the guests arrive one-by-one, I got an unofficial fashion show revealing how the wealthy dress. If I was the Society Pages editor of some high-end publication, I probably would have recognized half these people, who were after all the crème-de-la-crème of the San Franisco social scene. Instead, I'll just give you an off-the-cuff analysis of the many different variations of "millionaire style." (I've pixelated the eyes of each guest for privacy, since this wasn't a "protest" and this report doesn't exactly count as a gossip column.) "
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