alex chiang: web 6.0

Sarah Palin and 2/5 kids, Budweiser Events Center

I’m sorry, I lied. I know I said I wasn’t going to blog about politics anymore, but events aligned against me, and I found myself with the (hopefully (only)) once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to hear Sarah Palin speak at a rally here in town. There was no possible way on this planet that I could have turned that offer down, short of me being dead.

Awaking to a dreary overcast day, I stood in front of my closet and contemplated carefully. At the time, my wardrobe for the day seemed of utmost importance. So many choices… Cowboy boots and hat? 100% denim, including jacket, shirt, and underwear? A vintage Sore/Loserman shirt from ‘00? In the end, I went with bootcut jeans, a faded navy-blue Mobil gas station t-shirt, and a brown Carhartt hoodie. Work horse all the way, ain’t no show horses ’round these parts neither.

one of Larimer county’s finest, mounted

My good buddy TDB had scored two tickets to the big show, but he wasn’t able to take a large break in the middle of his day, so I was flying without a wingman today. TDB stressed that I needed my ID and was rambled about the Secret Service. Duly impressed, I experienced yet another round of vapor-lock. My U.S. passport was proof of my citizenship; important, I thought, in case the SS didn’t like my “furriner” looks and wanted to put me on the fast track to Gitmo. On the other hand, Sarah herself had just gotten a passport a mere 18 months ago, and I didn’t want to show up a potential future veep. I hedged and stuck the passport in my back pocket, but only in case my Colorado license didn’t work during the first round of interrogation.

A quick trip down I-25 to the Loveland exit, and I immediately encountered one of the main themes for the day: traffic. TDB had mentioned getting there early, like before 10:30, but with the event scheduled to begin at noon, I’d gambled on the contrarian approach, thinking everyone else was going to get there early, so I would show up late, wait minimally, and zoom inside, soon to be enthralled by the thrilla from Wasilla. The problem with gambling is that the odds are usually stacked against you, and this case was no different. I heard a rumour later that the McCain field office had handed out twice as many tickets as the arena could actually hold, and if you asked me, the entire 2nd arena was waiting on the on-ramp, in the parking lot, and in the field outside the arena. Ugh.

palin power

The line to get in was literally several thousand people long and snaked across the field 10 or 12 times. Movement was glacial (n.b. if Sarah-cuda gets her way, your grandchildren will have no idea what that metaphor means).

It was 11:30. And freezing. But in for a penny, in for a pound, and so I just sat back and enjoyed the people watching. Therein came insight #1. Palin has been widely derided as a horrible, cynical, pandering choice. Love her or leave her though, her energizing power is undeniable. The air buzzed, folk chattered excitedly. McCain’s choice was canny. He knew no one could possibly be excited for yet another ticket featuring two aging lions looking to check off the last item on their bucket list — not against his current competition. McCain / Lieberman would have been DOA, independent of Joe’s opinion on abortion. Palin at least gives McCain a fighting chance. Not bad John, not bad at all.

sarah #1

Time ticked inexorably onward, and the crowd trudged along; a not-insignificant portion were attrited away by cold, hunger, and loss of morale. Not yours truly; I was in til the bitter end. Our lifeblood was rumour, hungry for any scrap of information from the radioed volunteers. “She’s delayed an hour.” “Two.” “She’ll speak in the overflow building.” “They’ll bring speakers and a screen out.” As well, agonizing shreds of antagonistic data: “She’s already speaking.” “She only has 20 minutes of material.” “She has to be in Grand Junction by 4.”

Entrepreneurs worked the line, but all had missed the brass ring: blankets, hot cocoa, hot cakes would have sold like… hot cakes. Live and learn, I suppose.

A conservative wave of humanity poured out the arena doors and hearts were crushed. Toasty revelers with trophy posters heckled us saps still in queue. “What are you still waiting in line for?” The response — “the bathroom” — was unfunny, even if you were there, but still we laughed because it hurt less. Faithfully, dutifully, we continued to file into the overflow building.

you go girl!

The Secret Service could learn the TSA a thing or two. Shoes stayed on, jackets remained. Keys, phones, wallets, watches all remained on our person as we passed through the metal detecting threshold. Bags were checked quickly but thoroughly. Real security, no theater. What a contrast to O’Hare.

Warmth. And hot dogs. Escaping the elements was splendid.

A cheer arose. Again. Again. Waves pulsed through us, the collective, and we strained for a glimpse of the pit bull. Sarah worked the crowd and of a sudden, appeared on stage. Waving, smiling, she launched over her two-minute drill talking points. “We’re not here to spread the wealth, we’re here to spread the opportunity.” A shout out to the local club hockey team, the Eagles. The mic passed to Todd who urged us to get our hunting and fishing buddies out for the vote. One of her daughters thanked us for letting them come. A few thousand frenetic clicks, billions of pixels snatched out of the air, shoved into memory cards and sticks and drives, and then it was over.

Anti-climax is the worst.

NO SOCIALISM.

What was I looking for today? Irony? Humour? Arguably I started on a high horse. Maybe I was secretly hoping to see people scream “sieg heil” or “kill him” so I could go back to the safety and comfort of my friend group, smugly confident and happy to confirm that yes, Palin fans were idiots and bigots and horrible people.

But that’s not what I saw and it’s not what I heard. Rather, I heard plenty of Joe Plumbers and Meriam Hairdressers express sophisticated concerns regarding philosophy of government. The impromptu conversations struck revolved around tax philosophy, the role of government and personal responsibility, and what sorts of social safety nets were appropriate and who was going to pay for them. Not once did anyone mention any so-called culture war issues, nor race nor sly innuendo to terrorist associations. Despite what the Daily Show crowd think, middle America is much smarter than its commonly accorded credit.

And that’s insight #2. No matter which ticket wins in November, it’s not going to be the end of the world. The American electorate can and should be trusted to do the right thing. If McCain/Palin win (and let’s be clear, I sincerely hope they do not), it won’t be due to latent racism or pro-lifers or evangelicals or any other number of possible conspiracies; it will come down to Reagan vs. Roosevelt economics, and what our electorate wants more.

And if you can’t reconcile that in your mind, please — by all means, move to Canada.

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