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Alabama County Creates Obama Holiday

From Alabama’s Birmingham News:

Alabama Black Belt county creates holiday in Barack Obama’s honor

Black Belt offices to close with pay

Wednesday, December 03, 2008


Barack Obama’s election as president has generated a number of firsts. The latest may be the creation of a paid holiday in his honor in an Alabama Black Belt county.

At its most recent meeting, the Perry County Commission voted 4-1 to declare the second Monday in November “The Barack Obama Day.”

Commissioner Albert Turner Jr., who sponsored the resolution, said flags would be flown on the day and county offices would be closed. He said he hopes county schools also will decide to observe the holiday.

“We moved on that because of the historic nature of his election and the fact that this was a history-making event, having the first African descendent to be (elected) president of the United States,” Turner said.

The resolution also contains language to make it difficult, if not impossible, to overturn. It says the Obama Day “shall only be deleted from the county holiday calendar by a majority vote of all the members of the United States Congress, both House and Senate, and a unanimous vote of the Perry County Commission.”

Recalling the long-shot start to Obama’s campaign, Turner said the county holiday would give people faith and hope that difficult goals, “even when they look insurmountable,” can be achieved with hard work and perseverance.

Commissioner Tim Sanderson said the county has about 40 employees.

A majority black county which is among the state’s poorest, Perry voted nearly 73 percent for Obama in the Nov. 4 election, the highest in the state. Only two other Black Belt counties, Macon and Greene, gave Obama a higher percentage, Turner said.

The county commission’s three black members and one of its two white members voted for the resolution. The commissioner who voted against the resolution, Brett Harrison, said he was not against celebrating Obama’s victory, but he did not want the economically pressed county to establish another paid holiday with the courthouse offices being closed, Turner said.

Efforts to reach Harrison, who has raised questions in the past about county spending priorities, were unsuccessful.

Sanderson called the resolution “a spur of the moment thing.” He also said that he said he wasn’t sure Obama, because of his mixed heritage, could be called an African-American. But he said voted for the measure because it might gain the county a receptive ear in the White House.

“Like or dislike him, he’s my president, your president and he overcame a lot of odds to get that job,” Sanderson said. “And if it opens a door too, for me by doing this holiday thing, I think it will be well worth it.”

Turner said copies of the resolution have been mailed to Obama’s transition team and to president elect himself. He said he had contacted U.S. Rep. Jesse Jackson Jr., whom he called a personal friend, to let Obama know the resolution was coming.

Just imagine the excitement when Mr. Obama actually accomplishes something besides winning an election.

This article was posted by Steve on Wednesday, December 3rd, 2008. Comments are currently closed.

23 Responses to “Alabama County Creates Obama Holiday”

  1. specialed says:

    How can that overturn requirement be serious? Seems very unconstitutional.

    How can he accomplish anything if he can’t be president?


    Does the citizenship thing have legs? It did not before the election…

    What about Hillary and emoluments?

  2. artboyusa says:

    THANK YOU, DEAR LEADER; a Story of Hope and Change presents “Meal of Mystery!”

    “Et pour vous, cher Monsieur le Président-Elect, a treat most éspecial, created éspecialemente pour vous et votre belle Madame Michelle par notre top Chef – I present to you ze nouveau specialitié de la maison; a leetle somezing we call… Pork Obama – voila!”

    Pierre, head waiter at Chicago’s trendiest eatery “L’Aigle Brun” (the Brown Eagle, formerly The Veal Crate) whipped away the gleaming silver cover as Barack and Michelle gasped.

    “Wha – what is that, exactly?” choked Barack.

    “Behold – a deesh which combines ze best of cuisine contemporaire avec ze potent symbols of votre victoire historique !” enthused Pierre. “Magnifique!”

    “Potent cymbals?” wondered Barack. “I don’t hear anything”.

    “’Symbols’, Barry –with an S” corrected Michelle. “The literal or concrete representation of invisible abstract concepts”.

    “Oh, okay. Right”.

    “Pork Obama” described Pierre “Un entire hog, roasted to perfection in ze reech soil of Ilinois (symbol de votre trés beau birthplace, Hawaii et de votre adopted home, Cheecago), avec a fried golden eagle in its mouth (symbol de les Etats-Unis, wheech you have conquered avec votre positive message of hope and change) ze inside stuffed avec cheese lasagne (l’option végetarienne), resting upon a bed of lobster and melted Hershey bars (pour un exciting conniption of contrasting flavours); ze entire presentation dripping with honey glaze – as honeyed as your tongue, cher Monsieur – and rainbow jimmies – weeth a cherry and a leetle flag upon ze top!”

    “Oh my gosh” gagged Michelle. “Oh my gosh. Is there a healthy option?”

    “Vell – we could remove ze cherry”.

    “That’s, um, great, Pierre” mollified Barack. “Trés bong. I’m deeply honoured. Please tell Chef ‘Mercy’ on my behalf. It’ll taste great, I’m sure. Say, could we have some more of this delicious wine?”

    “Train Nocturne’? But of course – I shall fetch anozzer bottle at once” grovelled Pierre.

    “Train what?”

    “It means ‘Night Train’ in French, Barry” snapped Michelle.

    “Oh, okay. Right”.

    “Well, I’m not eating that…thing” muttered Michelle.

    “Oh, come on honey” urged Barack. “They made it éspecial for us”.


    “Come on – just a little bite” coaxed the man likened to Lincoln and Roosevelt by publications likened to Pravda. “Just one bite”.

    Barack’s fork, dripping with pork, made its way toward Michelle’s clenched jaws.

    “Brrmmm brrmmm…here comes the airplane. Open up the hangar door…”

    Meanwhile, from behind the half open kitchen door a bloodshot, blue-contact lensed eye peered out and watched, as eyes do.

    Attached to the eye was another eye, likewise contact lensed and a face, thickly covered in foundation. The face was part of a head, pumpkin like and grossly swollen, which sat atop a body, similarly swollen, especially in the rear, clad in chef’s whites and a canary yellow pantsuit.

    Her talon clutched a little bottle marked “Poison! You Should Definitely Not Drink This. No Kidding!”

    Since this was America, the same message was repeated in Spanish: “Veneno! Usted no Debería Beber Definitivamente Este. Ninguna Broma!”

    Upon the figure’s disappointing chest a golden badge gleamed: “Madame Secretary of State (Señora el Ministro de Asuntos Exteriores)” it read.

    “Yeah, open the hangar – and die!” sneered the watching figure. “Sí! Abra el hangar y muera, bitch!”

    Uh oh! Will Michelle open her hangar? Who can the mysterious watcher be? Isn’t it against President Barbarella Osama’s religion to eat pork? Find out when THANK YOU, DEAR LEADER returns!

  3. Liberals Demise says:

    Sweet baby Jesus…..what are these clowns gonna do? Pass the hat to pay for the holiday? With this kind of thinkin’ I can only surmise that these same people were standing outside a Wal*Mart at 5am waitng to crash the glass on “BLACK” Friday! For the life of me I can’t understand why those people go crazy for CoCo puffs; the Obamy!! Another thing, if he isn’t considered a Afro-American because 0f mixed heritage, lets drop the afro part. NOW….what in the hell are you celebrating about? HMMMmmm?

  4. wardmama4 says:

    While I admire MLK – I have always thought that the holiday was inappropriate. He wasn’t a President, he was a great man. So what – in the time & place of America – there have been quite a number of great men – of all colors who have done as much or even more to advance America, Americans and actually better life for all the people of the World. I hate this stupid devisive, special interest of special groups – Damn it all – We Should be Americans – First and Foremost.

    To act now, simply because the idiot bought, cheated, and lied his way to a supposed ‘win’ – what a crock. And if he absolutely pans out to be even worse than Jimmy Carter – you know in the vein of, oh say Fitzpatrick, Berry, William ‘Frozen Assets’ Jefferson – to name a few – what ever are they going to do – oh yes, just pound home the fact that after a gazillion years of American slavery it was just ‘justice’ and ‘deserved’. . .

    Of course, since our children aren’t being taught American history, civics or anything of value – they don’t care, they are just caught up in the ‘historic’ aspect of this ‘historic’ moment. And Anerica will end up ‘historically’ screwed.

  5. Steve says:

    “Does the citizenship thing have legs?”


    “What about Hillary and emoluments?”

    This issue has come up several times before, when Congressmen have been appointed to Cabinet and other positions in the Executive Branch that got raises the appointees voted for:

    Saxbe fix – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

    They simply work at the pre-raise rate.

  6. GetBackJack says:

    But Obama is not ‘black’ …

  7. 1sttofight says:

    Just another day, like every day, of doing nothing for Perry County employees.

  8. Colonel1961 says:

    Sweet home Alabama. I’m embarrassed, but not the least bit surprised…

  9. proreason says:

    Bill Ayers should also have a holiday. He is Obamy’s inspiration.

  10. Sharps Rifle says:

    Maybe if they had fewer holidays they might not be the poorest county in Alabama…I wonder if those geniuses had considered that simple fact?

  11. 1laidbackRN says:

    “Sweet home Alabama. I’m embarrassed, but not the least bit surprised…”

    Me too Colonel, but what more could we expect. I mean the best we could come up with for state quarter was Helen Keller. It’s like we go out of the way to prove that we are stupid P.C. or something.

    BTW, is this the same county that has more registered voters than people?

  12. GuppyNblue says:

    How do County Commissioners give the U.S. Congress jurisdiction over county matters? Not that it matters anymore.

  13. Colonel1961 says:

    RN: our state quarter sucks. Helen Keller? I’d rather have the Vulcan!

    SR: you’re assuming that they understand the concept of cause and effect…of course, I’m being facetious. (One of only two words in the English language that uses all of the vowels only once and in order – no ‘y’ doesn’t count, unless you use it facetiously.)

  14. OTTO says:

    They are the 57th poorest county in the entire country (per capita income of $10k).

    Relax. Take another day off.

  15. Thorn says:

    Since people are already naming schools after Obama, why not just sum up his wonderful, miraculous presidency right now? It was great, right?

  16. VMAN says:

    Only 73% voted for the big O? I think they should tell the other racist bastards that they are not allowed to celebrate O day!

  17. 11ten1775 says:

    How long before his face is painted onto the side of buildings? And how about some statues? A special course in schools to learn about our beloved leader? That would really be a good way to celebrate Obama and his many achievements. I’m pretty sure some other countries do things like that – just can’t remember where… They must be among the greatest countries in the world, though. We must be on the right track.

    And what does one give for Obama Day? Maybe an empty box wrapped in brown paper?

  18. 1sttofight says:

    Linda Burnett, 23, a resident of San Diego, was visiting her in-laws and went to a nearby supermarket to pick up some groceries. Several people noticed her sitting in her car with the windows rolled up, her eyes closed, and both hands behind the back of her head.

    One customer who had been at the store for a while became concerned and walked over to the car. He noticed that Linda’s eyes were now open, and she looked very strange. He asked her if she was okay, and Linda replied that she had been shot in the back of the head, and had been holding her brains in for over an hour. The man called the paramedics, who broke into the car because the doors were locked and Linda refused to remove her hands from her head.

    When they finally got in, they found that Linda had a wad of bread dough on the back of her head. A Pillsbury biscuit canister had exploded from the heat, making a loud noise that sounded like a gunshot, and the wad of dough hit her in the back of the head. When she felt the dough she thought it was her brains. She initially passed out, but quickly recovered.

    Linda is a blonde and an Obama supporter, but that could be irrelevant.

  19. curvyred says:

    Shouldn’t we let the man actually accomplish something of merit before electing a paid holiday for him – of course they are county workers – so there may not be a lot of productivity missed anyways.

  20. 12 Gauge Rage says:

    How many federal holidays do we really need now? Let me guess, if it does pass it’ll always be observed on a Monday so that all government workers can get yet another 3 day weekend. We already know that government agencies don’t do enough work. Why bog it down all the more with extra time off? But wait! Before they institute this new holiday they’ll have to waste more of our taxpaying dollars to conduct research on how this extra time off will affect the efficiency of our government. Here’s a good suggestion, just observe ‘The One’s’ nomination to the presidency on President’s Day. After all it’s what we’ve done with the other great and not so great presidents. Why should he be any different?

  21. leerm8680 says:

    The solution is a simple one. Pass another resolution rolling “O” into President’s Day. The nutjobs can have “O” as a tag-along for a federal holiday, and the rest of us wouldn’t have to see his name printed on any calendars.

  22. artboyusa says:

    THANK YOU, DEAR LEADER; a Story of Hope and Change continues with Part Two of “Meal of Mystery”!

    Outside, the Only Man Who Didn’t Vote for Obama scuttled with a furtive, haunted step along the frozen sidewalks of Chicago.

    Men, clutching their commemorative plates, pointed at him and muttered oaths and angry threats. Dogs snarled and strained on their leashes. Mothers pulled their children back and covered their innocent little eyes.

    “Don’t look, Timmy! Don’t look at the bad, dirty man!”

    Inside, the hungry eyes of Hillary Clinton (for who else could it be?) watched as the unknowing Barack tried to feed Michelle the perfidiously poisoned pork. The gleaming fork hung suspended before the First Spouse’s lips, adamant in their refusal.

    “Come on, honey” coaxed the clean and articulate quasi-divinity. “Eat it up”.

    “Go ahead…eat it all up! Eat it up and die!” Hillary hissed. “Come on! Don’t keep me waiting!”

    “Hi Hill! What up?”

    “Joe! Oh my gosh – you made me jump!” exclaimed Hillary, quickly hiding the lethal bottle behind her back.

    Vice – President Elect Joseph Robinette Biden, for so it was, grinned in that goofy trying-too-hard-to-be-friendly way of his.

    “Nice to see you, Hillary. What’re you doing here?”

    “Um, nothing. Nothing at all. What are you doing here?”

    “Er, I too am doing nothing” lied Joe, stuffing the loaded syringe into a jacket pocket.

    “Well…fine. Carry on, then”.

    “I will. You, um, carry on too”.

    “I will”.


    “Hi guys!” interrupted yet another voice. “Whatcha doing?”

    “John Kerry! What are you doing here?” exclaimed the astonished progressives.

    “Um, nothing. Nothing at all” replied the shellac-haired traitor, stuffing the blow pipe and quiver of poison darts down his pants leg. “Why do you ask?”

    “Er, no reason”.

    “Well…fine. I am doing nothing as well”.

    “As are we”.


    “Colleagues, colleagues” said Hillary “We’re all gentlemen, aren’t we? Our party has always stood for candour and truth, so let us not dissimulate. We can be honest about why we’re here, lurking in this darkened kitchen with the cooks and staff all drugged and tied up in the corner, spying on America’s First Couple, can’t we? We can explain all of this, right?”

    “Um…not exactly” stammered Joe. “Er, maybe not” gulped John.

    “Sure we can! We’re here because of our boundless admiration for the man who has captured the hearts of both our party and of America, right? We just can’t get enough of him!”

    “We can’t?”

    “No, we can’t! We’re not here because we’re plotting anything or hoping for some misfortune to befall him which would enhance our own positions. The idea! We’re not barbarians. We have nothing but love in our hearts for this upstart – this statesman – and there is no place within us for the burning heat of anger or the harsh taste of bitterness or…disappointment. Cruel, cruel disappointment…”

    Hillary’s voice kind of trailed off there.

    “You said it, Hillary” enthused Joe. “We love the guy! That’s our story and I’m sticking with it”.

    “Me too” chimed in John.

    “Well, fine” said Hillary. “I suppose there’s no harm if we just hang around for a few more minutes, feasting our eyes on them, so to speak. See if they keel over in agony. I mean…enjoy their meal. Yeah, that’s it. Their last meal”.

    The six eyes of the disappointed Democrats now turned toward the unsuspecting couple. Their breath caught in their throats as…

    Wow! Cliffhanger city, huh? Tune in tomorrow for the thrilling conclusion (if I can think of one).

  23. artboyusa says:

    THANK YOU, DEAR LEADER; a Story of Hope and Change presents the conclusion of “Meal of Mystery”!

    As a grateful nation grinned happily at the “warm smile and kind of eyes” (or is it the other way around?) of the Dear Leader that gleamed at them from the thousands of Commemorative Plates (as seen on TV!) which cluttered its walls, cabinets and desktops and as the unwary Barack and Michelle prepared to tuck into their poisoned meal and as Hillary, Joe and John held their breath in suspenseful anticipation…

    “You miserable pig!” screamed Pierre the head waiter, slapping the hapless wine steward’s face “How could you (slap) allow zis (slap) to happen?! (slap slap slap). “How could you let us run out of Train Nocturne? You know it is le plus favourite wine of cher Monsieur le Président-Elect?”

    “Désolé, mon chef” snivelled Marcel. “Désolé! I shall reorder at once!”

    “Trop tard, fool! Too late! I must find a substitute acceptable to heez Cheecago standards –and queeckly. Plus vite!”

    “Perhaps ze Chateau Margaux ($400)? Or ze St-Emillion ($550)? Or ze Lafitte Rothschild Pauillac ($600)?”

    “Such trash! Non, non and non! Nozzing but ze best pour Monsieur Miracle – I shall bring him ze ‘Oiseau de Tonnerre’!”

    “Mon Dieu!”

    “Do eet, pig!”

    “Great Foster’s Ghost! What’s the holdup?” snarled Hillary. “Why won’t they eat?”

    “Yeah!” echoed Joe.

    “Yeah, yeah” re-echoed John.

    “Well, if you don’t want any I’ll just tuck in” said Barack.

    “Fine” muttered Michelle, her arms folded tightly. “You do that”.

    “I will”.


    “Here we go” whispered Hillary. “Making history one more time…”

    “This sure looks good” said Barack, piling his plate high. “I could eat a horse”.

    “There’s probably one in there if you dig deep enough” murmured his irate consort.

    “Ah, Monsieur et Madame Président-Elect!” fluttered Pierre. “A million pardons pour ze delay. I have brought a special wine – ‘Oiseau Tonnere’ – to accompany your meal. On ze house of course!”

    “Of course” said Barack. “‘Wawso dee Ton Air’? What’s that?”

    “’Oiseau de Tonnerre’. It means ‘Thunder Bird’, Barry” scolded Michelle. “You monolingual dope”.

    “Shall I pour?” inquired Pierre, unscrewing the cap.

    “May wee! Tray bong!” said Barack, demonstrating his mastery of languages, while Michelle sniffed disdainfully. “Fill ‘er up!” she said, holding out her glass, which Pierre filled with practised skill.

    “Well, here’s to me – to us, honey!” said Obama, raising his glass.

    “Whatever” said Michelle, draining hers.

    “Oh, crud” Hillary groaned. “That’s the wrong wine! I never put anything in that one. Did either of you, by any chance, you know…add anything to that one?

    “Nuh unh” said Joe.

    “Unh nuh” said dyslexic John.

    “Well, maybe. Kinda. Sorta. Possibly” said a new voice. The murderous trio wheeled around.

    “You!” they gasped. “Nancy!”

    “Hi kids!” grinned Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. “It’s always the one you least expect, isn’t it?”

    “But why? What’s in this for you?” wondered Hillary, as Joe and John nodded in puzzlement.

    “Have you ever read this ‘Constitution’ thing? No? You should; its way interesting” advised Nancy. “According to this, if the President and the Vice-President die or are “unable to perform their duties” the President becomes…”

    “Oh no!”

    “Unh huh. Yours truly. First female Prez. Cool huh? Better than you could do, Hill”.

    “Except everyone’s still alive” said John, who never missed a trick. “You didn’t think of that!”

    “Yes, they are” said Nancy, with a little smile. “And alive they’ll stay – but in a coma so deep it’ll make Ariel Sharon look hyperactive”.

    They could hear sudden cries of alarm from outside. A quick glanced showed the First Couple face down in ‘Pork Obama’, surrounded by shouting waiters and Secret Service guys.

    “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?” mumbled Hillary. “Uh oh” gurgled Joe, suddenly remembering he was VP. “Uh oh” and then he keeled over. “Not me!” wailed John. “I’m nobody! I’m nothing!”

    “True, but you always bugged me, John; so, nighty night” said Nancy and the lanky New Englander hit the floor.

    “What about me?” choked Hillary. “You didn’t…”

    “Naaah” said Nancy, draping an arm over Hillary’s shoulders. “Don’t sweat it. We’re pals, right? Say, listen: are you familiar with the concept of a ‘cabinet of rivals’?”

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