I'm surrounded by people all day. I can't get a moment to myself. Even when I go to the little President's room, there's some Secret Service guy just outside. Well, there probably is. Those guys are really good at hiding. It totally ruins any chance I have to sing to myself. Now, I'm a people person so it doesn't bother me all that much that there's not a whole lot of me time, but it sure does get lonely. Even though I can't go four steps without bumping into someone who wants to have a word with me, none of them really know how to talk to me, ya know? There's no one to confide in, to tell my secrets to. Well, except for you, diary. If I could give you legs and face, you'd be my best friend. Maybe... maybe more than friends. I know I'm not supposed to have those thoughts, what with my being married and all, but sometimes when things get really lonely, I let my mind wander. I bet you'd have great legs, too, diary. Gams from here to St. Louis.
I guess that's why I feel so lucky that I finally found someone who really gets me. After all of this oil business, which has been going on forever, the news media has been champing at the bit to sit down with me one on one. Yeah, I've put on my extra-angry face for all of the press conferences about BP and all the failed capping attempts, so it's been a bit of a frenzy to fit me into the schedule. But I said I was only going to sit down with one guy and one guy only. Well, alright, one of two guys. I'd go anywhere to hang out with Anderson Cooper. Is it just me or is that guy the coolest person ever? Ah, but I'd never get face time with the AC, so I had to settle for my runner up. That's not to say I wasn't over the moon about my meeting with Larry King.
Man, I've been watching Larry since I was a kid. Before I even got into politics, Larry made me all interested in the goings on of the world. I've always admired the way he goes for the important questions, no nonsense, just pure, distilled journalism. The guy is like a machine. To be honest, I was a little intimidated when I first walked in the room. I was pretty sure Larry was gonna tear into me like a steel arrow of news investigation. Just one look from King over those thick glasses and I'd be spilling state secrets that have been locked up since Kennedy.
Oh, but he was a sweetheart. Sure, he still asked some important questions, but he wasn't mean or scary at all. He saw through all the layers of presidential armor I wear and got straight to my soul. After a few minutes, I realized that Larry King fills the part of my life that was left empty by my dad not being around. When it was all over I wanted to bury my face in his hairy chest and just cry all the bad days out. I didn't, but more than anything else in the world I wanted to.
Maybe one day I'll tell Larry how I feel. I probably don't have too long because the guy's pretty old. Geez, I don't want to live in a world without Larry King. When that guy goes, journalism will truly be lost forever.

