The Man in the Middle

Imagine a person standing in front of the White House. Better still, imagine yourself standing in front of the White House. That’s you on the sidewalk, peering through the fence, over the lawn, at the residence of the president of the leader of the free world. That’s you—in fine form—hair in place and shoes shined. That’s you turning toward the entrance. Your pace is brisk and stride sure. It should be. You have come to meet with the president. You have a few matters you wish to discuss with him. First, there is the matter of the fire hydrant in front of your house. Could they soften the red just a shade? It’s too bright. Then there’s the issue of world peace. You are for it—would he create it? And lastly, college tuition is too high. Could he call the admissions office of your niece’s school and ask them to lighten up? He might have some influence. All worthy issues, correct? It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Besides, you brought him some cookies that he can share with the first lady and Bo, the first puppy. So with bag in hand and a smile on your face, you step up to the gate and announce to the guard, “I’d like to see the president please.”

He asks for your name, and you give it. He looks at you and then at his list and then he says, “We have no record of your appointment.”
“You have to have an appointment?”
“Yes.”
“How do I get one?”
“Through his office staff.”
“Could I have their number?”
“No, it’s restricted.”
“Then how can I get in?”
“It’s better to wait until they call you.”
“But they don’t know me!”
The guard shrugs. “Then they probably won’t call.”

And so you sigh and turn and begin your journey home. Your questions are unanswered and your needs unmet. And, get this, you were SO close!

Had the president stepped out onto the lawn, you could’ve waved, and he would’ve waved back. You were only yards from his front door … but you might as well have been miles. The two of you were separated by the fence and the guard. Then there is the problem of the Secret Service. Had you somehow entered, they would have stopped you. The staff would have done the same. There were too many BARRIERS. And what about the invisible barriers? The Barriers of time. (The president’s too busy.) The Barriers of status. (You have no clout.) The Barriers of protocol. (You have to go through the right channels.) And so you leave the White House with nothing more than a hard lesson learned. The reality is - you do not have access to the president. Your chat with the commander in chief? It ain’t gonna happen. You’ll have to take your problem about peace and your question about the fire hydrant with you and discuss it with somebody else.

But WAIT….That is, unless HE takes the initiative. Unless HE, spotting you on the sidewalk, takes pity on your plight and says to his chief of staff, “See that person with the sack of cookies? Go tell them I’d like to talk with them for a minute.” If he gives such a command, all the PREVIOUSLY SIGNIFICANT barriers will drop. The Oval Office will call the head of security. The head of security will call the guard, and the guard will call your name. The guard would then announce, “Guess what? I can’t explain it, but the door to the Oval Office is wide open.” You stop and turn and straighten your shoulders and enter the same door where, only moments before, you were DENIED ACCESS. The guard