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A M E R I C A N -S I D E S H O W
by Diana Grove
[Diana Grove joins the Facsimilation team with this bi-weekly look at the American Sideshow.]
Hot Palms and Cold Drinks: Getting Lei'd By The Grand Old Party
I know what you're thinking. Even though they are Old and Grand, the Republicans, as a group, don't know how to party. Well, you're just plain wrong. Because on Friday, June 4th I wasn't in the Richmond Marriott more than 10 minutes before I was invited to the social event of the year - a luau hosted by Attorney General hopeful, Bob McDonnell.
That's right, a Republican luau. I truly felt like I had hit the jackpot. I tried to imagine the guest list. Would Orin Hatch would be there…what about Trent Lott? I would just love to see those guys rock out with a ukulele!
The invitation came from a group of fresh-faced boys that had just come back from the Republican Convention of Virginia being held across the street. I couldn't help but wonder why these young, upstanding GOP members would invite a complete stranger to what surely must be a private and very secured event.
I checked my blouse to see if it was properly buttoned. Surprisingly - it was.
Impressed with their hospitality, I slapped on some lipstick and made a beeline for the convention center. I wanted to sneak in and see if the rest of the Republican party was as friendly. Besides, I really felt I should see some of the serious stuff before the whole event dissolved into one big, sloppy, Hawaiian mosh pit.
White men in dark suits trickled out of the convention hall, leaving it practically empty. However, a few booths at the entrance still buzzed with action.
Off in the distance I spotted a sign for something called The Concerned Women of America. Being both a woman and fairly concerned a lot of the time myself, (mostly about whether the Republican boys were going to be using top shelf rum in the pina coladas) I eased over, sidled up to the card table, and scanned the pamphlets. One read At the end of the rainbow…Exposing the Myths of Homosexuality. I wondered if these gals were finally going to tell America that it really was okay to wear white shoes after Labor Day. I looked up and smiled.
"Hi ya girls, what's all the concern about?"
One of the women, an impressive figure with blond, closely cropped hair and searing blue eyes approached me. She wore a white tailored suit and looked strikingly like Captain Stubbing, but without all the bald spots. She stood proudly and began to explain.
"Well…our concern is really about supporting the building blocks of society. Which is, loving God, loving family…and loving country. We're also about supporting sovereignty and uncovering the myths of homosexuality." At this point, she became very impassioned and spoke at great length about homosexuality being a conspiracy that began in Hollywood and was then passed on through television. I had never heard this before, but it did seem to make a lot of sense. I mean, John Wayne did walk kinda funny and Katherine Hepburn did wear pants an awful lot. She kept speaking, and as I gazed off into space trying to imagine Vivian Leigh's bowling average I heard her say …
"…you see, I used to be a lesbian."
Lesbian! Did she say lesbian? Jeez, these Republicans are wild! I wondered if she was going to be at the luau! I tried to imagine her playing slide guitar and singing Tiny Bubbles with Christie Todd Whitman.
She then proceded to hand me a flyer advertising Helpful Resources for Unwanted Same Sex Attraction. I carefully folded it in half and placed it in my purse, making a mental note to send it to Bea Arthur at my earliest convenience. I thanked her for her for all the information and began to roam around looking for more enlightening Republicans to chat with.
Near the exit, a life-size cardboard cutout of none other than Bob McDonnell was standing near a booth filled with campaign giveaways. Seeing that he was running for Attorney General and hosting the luau, I figured I should stop by and at least say hi. Personalized cups, flyers, bumper stickers, even bottles of water cluttered the table. I was impressed. This guy really seemed to have it together. I introduced myself to the 21-year-old aide standing behind the sea of Bob paraphernalia.
"Hi there, I'm Diana - your dusky luau goddess. Hey, you should really go ask that blond lady behind me about Clint Eastwood's teacup collection. She's got a ton of information!" I guess he didn't hear me because he just smiled and handed me a flyer with a picture of Bob's head on it.
I leaned in and got closer. "So, this Bob McDonnell guy is running for Attorney General huh? That's like the biggest lawyer of them all right?"
The kid straightened his glasses. "Well yes, that's true. Bob McDonnell is running for Attorney General for 2005."
I picked up a bumper sticker and admired it. "Okay. So as the state's head attorney, what exactly is Bob gonna do for me?"
He paused, looked down a moment, then raised his head. "Well….uhhh….he's gonna make sure the laws are…fair. He's gonna make sure the people's rights are…uh…protected. And…
"…I mean, if I wanted to call him up and get some free legal advice, do you think he would speak to me?"
"Uh…well, maybe.
This kid was cute but his dodginess was really starting to annoy me.
"Tell ya what. Can we call him up right now? Do you have his cell number?" I was suddenly feeling frisky. Besides, isn't it our constitutional right to be able to talk to public servants? After all, we do pay their salaries.
The kid looked nervous for a second but quickly rallied an air of professionalism and pulled out his cell phone.
"Okay…I guess I could call him up. I really haven't been working for him that long but, let's see…uh…757- 552-6010. Ok, here we go…" He waited a moment, then handed the phone to me.
"Hi, Bob McDonnell's office? Yes, this is Diana Grove - concerned American citizen. Yeah, I was wondering if Bob is available? No? Well, I was wondering if I could ask him for some free legal advice. He's not in? Uhhh….is he at the luau setting up swizzle sticks or something? He's unavailable at the moment. Okay, let me give you my number. It's 239-822-1680 - now that's my cell. He can call me 24 hours a day, any time he wants. I'm always here for him, okay? Thanks."
Wow, I thought, I just called the Attorney General candidate, Bob McDonnell! I wondered if he really was there and just not taking my call. Men do that sometimes you know - pretend they're not there just to make you want them more. I asked the kid what he thought.
He looked down for a moment and scrunched his eyebrows. "Wait, come to think of it, he's not in the office right now, he's here. He's fixing the hotel suite for the party tonight. There picking up about 20 cases of beer right now."
I put my hands on my hips. "He's here? Really? At the hotel? Beer…what about pina coladas and girls in grass skirts? I mean, it's a luau isn't it? Shouldn't everyone be drinking rum out of pineapples?"
He smiled. "Well, I don't know about pineapples, but they'll have coconut shrimp and other Hawaiian stuff."
Hmmmmmm. "Other Hawaiian stuff"? I wondered if any famous Hollywood Republicans would show up, like The Rock or Arnold Schwartzenegger. If so I'd probably have to watch them mincing about topless, swirling their hips to the strains of Don Ho. Disturbed, I shook the thought from my head and looked back at he kid.
"Hey, are you gonna be at the luau? I'll look for you next to the beer cans stacked like Mt. Iwannalaya." We both laughed as he blushed and straightened his tie.
Wow, 20 cases of beer! Maybe those Republicans really do know how to party!
Maybe Condeleeza Rice can do a monster Macarena? Maybe Chief Justice Rehnquist knows how to make a beer bong? Maybe Ralph Reed will put on some Shaggy and rally the boys together to pull a train?
I didn't have any time to waste. I had to get back to the hotel and pull myself together enough to attend the luau in style. In my room, I gussied up as much as possible and waited impatiently for 9 o'clock to roll around.
The seconds ticked by like hours. Finally, at 9:02, I shot out to the elevator and punched the 18th floor.
Men in suits with slick haircuts milled about carrying cocktails. I followed the luau signs to suite 1806. As I looked around, I saw other candidates were throwing parties as well. The hall was packed with posters for Sean Connaughton, Gil Davis and finally, at the end of the hall, "Hawaiian God" - Bob McDonnell. Surprisingly, there was absolutely no security. I could have had either a .22 or Donna Shalala in my left sock and nobody would have known.
As I walked down the hall I felt nervous - mainly because I'm really not much of a party person. I usually break the ice by saying something alarming and uncouth like, "Hey everybody…I brought pickles!" But what the heck, you don't get to party with Republicans every day, so I stood up straight and walked into Bob's suite hoping I wouldn't embarrass myself too much.
A group of young men were standing around a child-sized swimming pool filled with Budweiser. As I took one final step inside they looked toward me. I couldn't think of a clever introduction, so I let nature take over.
"Howdy boys! Anyone wanna wrestle?"
Luckily, the icebreaker worked. One of them placed a red plastic lei around my neck and asked for further details. I began to explain.
"Well, you've got your Armenian arm wrestling, but that only works if you're wearing a mustache. Then you've got your Indian Squaw wrestling, which is fun, but we'd have to start gambling. Then, you've got your Jell-O Brand Jell-O wrestling, and I think we all know what that entails -hot water and lots of it!" They were mesmerized with my wrestling knowledge. I was about to launch into the fine points of Chinese Thumb wrestling when it happened…I saw him.
One of the most beautiful men I had ever seen was standing in the middle of the room surrounded by a flock of young, white neo-cons like a king among his servants. I quickly slipped away, grabbed a stray drink and gravitated towards him. He had everything I look for in a man: alluring eyes, a devastating smile, and a small squadron of 19-year-old boys that really seemed to like sassy chics. I crept closer and somehow managed to take his hand in mine, grasping it firmly. I smiled and introduced myself as Monique. Why? I don't know. I do strange things when I'm nervous. Then suddenly…he spoke.
"Hi there, are you from the 84th District?"
I was still grasping his deliciously warm palm, shaking it slowly. "Um…no. Actually, I'm originally from Chicago, but currently from the 7th floor."
"Really? Hmmmmm Chicago, I was just in Chicago." He purred as I clenched his hand. I continued to shake - gently at first, but then with an increasingly suggestive firmness.
"Yeah, Chicago…it's…cold n' stuff…yeah, cold….it's ummmmmm… huh." My mind was a total blank. All I could think about were long nights in the Lincoln bedroom discussing foreign policy, welfare reform, and Brown vs. The Board of Education. Suddenly, embarrassed with my total lack of brainpower, I panicked, gave him back his hand and rushed over to hide behind a gigantic tureen of Hawaiian shrimp. Looking back over my shoulder, I noticed something strange. That's when it hit me. Wow, I just bombed at seducing Virginia's Token Black Man. Remembering I was happily married anyway, I sighed loudly, straightened my skirt, and headed towards the colada blender.
Just as I was tossing a tiny umbrella behind the credenza, who should walk right in front of me, but Attorney General hopeful - Bob McDonnell! And guess what, he looked exactly like his cardboard cutout…only slightly less flexible. Naturally, because of my recent phone call, I rushed over and gave him an enthusiastic hello.
"Bob! Holy cow, I tried calling you earlier…" I don't think he heard me though because he responded with, "Hello, I'm Bob McDonnell."
"Of course you are you old scoundrel, how's it going?" Looking puzzled, I further introduced myself, and after a few jokes and wishes of good will, he actually got quite chatty. It turned out that old Bob and I had been next-door neighbors back in the early 80's in a small town just outside of Chicago. He was working for a major drug company (Baxter Travenol) while I was playing with Mattel products (Malibu Barbie).
Taking a real close look at him, I couldn't resist asking, "Jeez Bob, you weren't the Grand Avenue Streaker were you? I mean, you weren't that naked guy in the Adidas that tore down the highway at midnight…because you kinda have the same…nose."
He laughed and looked nervously around the room. "Whoa! Now that's no way to get elected is it?" Apparently, this is where had to cut it short because he shook my hand, put a Bob cup in it, and quickly turned away to the crowd.
Mildly disappointed, and seeing that many of the Republicans were clearing out, I left the luau and ventured out into the hallway. I didn't care if Bob was The Grand Avenue Streaker, he was still a pretty nice guy. Who knows, maybe he'll call me later and we can chat about subpoenaing some terrorists or something. Anyway, down the hall the Connaughton party was still going on, so I ducked in to see if I could swipe some cheese cubes before calling it a night.
It turned out to be a pretty sorry excuse for a party, so I picked up a campaign flyer to see what this guy was running for. Apparently, Connaughton was running for Lt. Governor, and his only previous achievement was installing pornography filters on computers in public libraries. I nudged an old man standing next to me munching an American flag cookie and pointed at the flyer.
"Hey, I guess we can't check out Ebony Assfucking Sluts at the library anymore huh?"
He tapped his hearing aid with his index finger and shrugged.
I shrugged back.
Yawning, I stashed some cheddar in my pocket and wandered back to the hallway.
Near the elevator I passed one last party. Please, I thought, let there at least be a pony barrel and some Van Halen or something. What I found were a few old ladies sleeping near a fern and the Lt. Governor of Virginia, Gil Davis, behind the bar opening a bottle of white wine. He was talking to his campaign advisor about moonshine when I eased up to his side and introduced myself. Glassy-eyed, he moved a bunch of empty bottles to the side as he explained the quality and importance of Virginia wine. He raised his glass to his lips as I raised my bottle of Bob water. We both swallowed, letting out a hearty "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"
At this point, it was really getting late and the pina coladas weren't sitting too well, so I politely gave him my best and ambled back to the elevator.
Wow, what a night! Pressing palms with some of Virginia's top Republicans! Okay, maybe they don't party like it's 1999, but they sure were nice to me. Even Bob! I wondered if he would break down and call me, or if he was just too busy making cardboard cutouts. As I entered the elevator I saw the group of guys that had invited me to the luau earlier in the day.
"Hi you guys, going to the luau? Hey look, I got lei'd!" I held up my red plastic lei and gave it a shake.
They all broke out into laughter and gave each other high fives.
As the door closed, I shouted after them, "Yeah, in Bob McDonnell's suite it's a sure thing! No fuss, no muss, and most importantly…no rash!"
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