Gettin’ Down With the G-O-P
I will preface this by saying that my excitement did not compare with that of The Husband’s, who shuttled members of the press that were traveling with McCain to their destination. He got direction from Secret Service agents, he blew through stop signs and red lights, and he got to shake the hand of Senator John McCain. He wins.
As for me, I was insanely jealous of The Husband’s opportunity. I pouted and insisted sweetly suggested that he could find out if there was a way for me to attend the Road to Victory Rally since he was helping out. Because The Husband is The Husband, he asked, and he got me a pass.
Not just any pass, my friends. I was rollin’ VIP.
So I dressed as suggested, in Republican Red (thanks again, Carrie!), put on my pearls and headed out to the venue. I parked in another zip code and walked to the entrance. The line stretched from the main doors all the way out to the street. I’d done my homework, though — people with VIP tickets usually had a separate entrance. I walked up to an information booth and inquired about such an entrance and was apologetically told they they had not set aside a line or entrance for VIP ticketholders. I looked out at the line and back at the woman behind the table. She suggested I merge in line somewhere. Fantastic.
I stepped out on to the sidewalk and considered my options. Option 1: Go to the back of the line. Clearly fair. Obviously there had to be other VIP passholders already in line, and they were waiting patiently. Option 2: Merge. In other words, butt in line. I hate it when people do that — who doesn’t? But… It was hot. It was hot, and I had borrowed the shirt I was wearing and didn’t want to return it in a deteriorated condition. So I stepped out on to the sidewalk and planned my attack. Really, it’s all about presentation. Act like you belong, and no one will question you.
I took a cautious step forward between two small groups of people. A family and sweet elderly lady ahead of me, and a sweet elderly lady and her kind of scary-looking sons behind me. The sweet elderly lady behind me made a comment about the bottles of water selling two for a dollar, and we started chatting. I was in.
The line moved s l o w l y . It was about the time that the sweet elderly lady behind me asked her son if his rash was clearing up that I noticed another breakout line had formed up closer to the door. I squinted and saw that their passes had the green line on the top like mine. The mom in the family in front of me said she’d hold my spot if I wanted to check it out. Sweet! So I did, and yes, the VIPs had formed a new line. Yay! I struck up a conversation with a woman in line with me, and we edged our way forward together.
Once inside, my possessions were scanned and poked through, and I cleared the metal detector. About a zillion people checked my ticket and I finally reached the auditorium. My line buddy and I walked in and took our seats, right in the middle about eight rows back. Great seats! After a bit, we were told to go to the end of the aisle, so we obeyed, but my line buddy said that she didn’t want to sit that far over and she ditched me. It was okay, a very nice couple moved one seat closer to me.
The community college’s choir sang, a local high school’s ROTC Color Guard presented the flags. Congressmen and future Senators spoke. People cheered, especially those in the balcony. They were super excited and super LOUD!!
Directly to the left of where I was sitting, there was a platform. There were lights set up on it and a camera, but I didn’t think much of it because it looked like all of the press were in the back. But then people started bustling about on the platform, and I knew something had to be up.
The people in front of me and the couple next to me changed. Their eyes glazed over. Their jaws dropped. I looked to my left and saw this guy holding a microphone, preparing to report LIVE. Throughout the rally, anytime there was a lull he was getting a lot of attention. People were shouting at him, waving, their eyes big like saucers. It was like he was a Republican Rock Star!
Confession: I had to ask who he was. C’mon, I have a preschooler and a toddler. During the day if the TV is on, it’s on a station where the N doesn’t stand for Network or News. It’s more like Nick Jr. or Noggin.
The whole thing was a lot of fun though! I waved my “Country First” sign, I cheered, I clapped. Then, since he was like Republican Royalty…
On my way out, I was stopped by a local news anchor and asked if I was a candidate’s wife. Hee-hee! I said no, and he asked if he could interview me. Thankfully the interview didn’t air. I am pretty sure I came across as Ultra Hyper Conservative Cheerleader Girl.
Go, John, Go!