Running into Michelle

SAN FRANCISCO. Yes, that Michelle. Mrs. Obama. I knew something was up when I tried to get into one my favorite bistros in the City by the Bay, Fino, and was met at the entrance by a burly man in an ill-fitting suit.

"I'll have to wand you," he said.

"You'll have to what?" I replied, and then saw the tell-tale earpiece and Secret Service insignia on his lapel.

Always a questioner of authority, I demanded, "Why?"

I Sight the First Lady
 

His response was silent and assertive; he simply shoved his metal detector at me; and in that instance, I concluded, "Michelle. She's here."

It was not rocket science.

She had just keynoted the 2009 National Conference on Volunteering and Service at the Moscone Center-- the world's largest gathering of volunteer leaders from the nonprofits, government and corporations. Coming of Age had an exhibit booth there, where I was hawking our training programs.

In her address Mrs. Obama had said, "The story of progress in this nation has always been the story of people who chose - in times of trial and struggle - to serve."

"The founders who set forth the ideals that have animated our democracy for more than two centuries; the soldiers who fought and died for those ideals; the abolitionists and people who marched and stood up and sat-in to ensure those ideals would endure; the ordinary folks who've reached out to the least among us, providing a measure of dignity to people who have little else."

A Value Proposition: Service = Dignity

And there it was, in that one seven letter word, "Dignity." She was exhorting us to promote human dignity by embracing our ideals- the essence of our own dignity- and serving, giving of ourselves, connecting and contributing to our communities, our country.

And as almost always with the Obamas, she delivered the message without admonition, without judgment, but with... dignity.

Then sent us off into the unusually warm San Francisco night with our sense of commitment and purpose redoubled.

All of which made me terribly hungry (Strong emotions do that, no?) And so I headed for Fino.

Now, of all the restaurants in this city of 1,000 restaurants, why was I the only one of the 5,000+ conference attendees to choose the same place as the First Lady?
(Truth told, I was one of only 15 real patrons in the place; about the same number of Secret Service agents were seated at the other tables.)

I took it as an omen-why not?

Giving the Lady Her Space

As, I think, did the other "real" people.

We did lean decorously from table to table to inquire who she was with (four other women no one seemed to know); pointed out to each other that her mother and daughters Malia and Sasha were with her; and commented that she looked every bit as terrific in person as she did on TV. (I added "Or from 800 feet away in a packed auditorium!")

But no one went over to her. No one asked for an autograph, No one took out their cell phone camera to take a picture. Surely, if any of us had done that, a Secret Service agent, suspecting a weapon, surely would have decked us with a a flying tackle.

No, we gave the lady her space.

We admired from afar.

She had dignity.

And so did we.