http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A60732-2004Jan6.htmlThe armored black limousine glides to a stop near a U.S. military jet at Andrews Air Force Base early one morning in May 2002. Laura Bush is about to embark on her first solo trip as first lady, a 10-day visit to three European nations, where she will speak out for Afghan women's rights.
An aide opens the door, and Mrs. Bush slides her legs carefully out and steps onto the tarmac. By this point, she knows her part well: Pause to smile, wave and let the photographers dutifully record the image. The small press corps knows its part, too, and watches the routine preflight maneuver with no expectations. Suddenly, one leg in worn corduroy, then the other, swings off the smooth leather limo seat. Jenna Bush stands up to follow her mother into the plane for this spring fling, and the reporters go on alert. It's the rowdy twin, the one who has been busted twice in four weeks for underage drinking, who has run her Secret Service detail ragged, who was captured in the National Enquirer falling down, a cigarette in her hand.
The corduroy jeans are ratty at their too-long hems, where Jenna has ground them into the pavement too many times. She is wearing a short black T-shirt, and her exposed tummy pooches out over the low-riding waistband. Flip-flops are on her feet. Her blond hair has been pinned carelessly up with a plastic clip. Sunglasses cover her eyes. Hoisting a backpack, she clomps up the plane stairs and disappears.Chelsea...where art thou?