7/25/14: I had planned to sleep late in my nifty little White House suite and order breakfast from the kitchen over the internal phone system. But barely had I drawn up a chair to a table laden with wholewheat toast, coffee and eggs over-easy, when the phone rang. It was Valerie Jarrett. " Come to the family quarters, quick as you can," she said. "He's having a full-on panic attack." I bounded up the stairs two at a time and found patient pointing mutely at the window. On the other side of the glass was a tiny flying machine. A drone!
"Tennis racquet, quick!" I told Valerie Jarrett who promptly vanished, then reappeared in seconds bearing a racquet. I flung open the window and brought the racquet down hard on the drone. It buzzed like an angry bee then fell lifeless onto the South Lawn. Dictated by S.H Rink, MD
