Jim Fletcherson has been working for The Secret Service since 1998. “I’ve seen a lot of changes in that time,” he tells The Lint Screen, chuckling. “Different presidents, Y2K, the worldwide web, smartphones, and smart TVs. But to tell the truth, I’ve never been too good with technology.”
Fletcherson shakes his head. “Now, all of a sudden, I have people bugging me about January 5th and 6th, 2021 texts and communication. Cripes, how am I supposed to know? That was a long time ago.” This reporter reminds him the Department of Homeland Security ordered the Secret Service to preserve records from those days, and he cocks his head in confusion.
“Why? What’s so special about those days? I don’t get.” This reporter tells the perplexed security professional that on January 6, there was a coup attempt to overturn a free and fair election by enraged supporters of disgraced twice-impeached President Donald J. Trump. “Really?” he asks. “Oh, yeah. That little thing at The Capitol. I think I remember something about that.”
When asked what happened to the communication records on those critical days, Fletcherson shrugs. “I guess they accidentally got erased,” he says. “Oops!” He smiles. “Frankly, all the confusing technology gives me a headache. Hell, I can’t operate my TV remote or alarm clock, and somehow, they expect me and the entire Secret Service department to back up our phones and devices? What are we, a bunch of brainiacs? Our job’s to protect the president, not program computers and stuff.”
The Senior Agent accepts no responsibility for the missing records.
“I don’t get what the big hub-bub’s about anyway,” he says. “President Trump said nothing happened on January 6th. It was just a few patriots trying to stop the steal. Why can’t all these buttinski people just shut their pie holes and believe him? Criminy, Trump was the most powerful guy in the world––God put him here to save us––so why would he lie? I say, let’s put him back in The White House where he belongs, and let’s get on with our lives. The whole thing’s pretty stupid if you ask me.” He gives a nervous smile.
Fletcherson reaches into his pocket, removes his phone, and scrunches his brow staring at the screen. “Hey, you think you could give me a hand?” he asks this reporter. “I want to try sending one of those little picture thingies in a text.”
“You mean an emoji?” this reporter asks.
“Don’t use your high falutin technical gibberish. Yeah, if that’s what it’s called.” Fletcherson hands over his phone. “You think you could show me how to do that?”
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Enjoy PD Scullin’s debut novel “SAWDUST: Love is wilder than a circus,” a humorous romp across America with a circus in the early ’80s. Also available in audiobook. Click here for a helluva fun ride. Buckle up and go.