Ah, the sound of silence.
Gampy POTATUS must really love it. That’s probably why he beats feet every week out of his chi-chi digs in the center of Washington to his pricey little retreat on the beach in Rehobeth. Secret Service can keep all those intrusive tourista beach crawlers away from him who’d normally be sharing sand not a meter from the edge of his towel.
JoePa can lay back in his beach chair, his spindly legs akimbo, and peacefully bask in the breezes and ocean warmth.
The “president” is making sure that it’s equally as restful and quiet on the normally busy docks of the American East and Gulf Coasts as you might be able to tell from the pictures Bingley snapped of the Port of Bayonne’s waterfront yesterday on his way home.
Normally bustling with ships, people, tiny moving parts of every description as freight and cargo goes up, down, sideways, into, out of, is loaded and…
