The other day, President Bush came to town to preach to a carefully preselected choir. Democrats and other issue pushers were exiled to a station about eight lanes of traffic away from the Xcel Energy Center’s sidewalk. The lefties chanted agendas and invited passing SUVs to honk. They carried signs that said things like “Kerry,” “Health Care,” and “U.S. Out of Iraq.” Even the “Ancient Forests Traveling Road Show” was present, with monster stump in tow. A young woman wore a plain white T-shirt that declared “John Edwards is Hot.” On a little traffic island all their own stood two lone Republicans, one dressed in a flag shirt and the other holding a sign that read “Thank you Pres. Bush.”
At the outdoor media check-in, members of the press were issued a stop-sign-shaped White House press pool pass. Security looked through my camera bag, and waved me in. The press bleachers were not overly crowded. Although there were big agencies like the Associated Press on deck, there were also accommodations for what appeared to be patriotic amateurs. A father and son’s tape recorder fell crashing to the floor and a man in sunglasses and a baseball cap asked me to pass down his consumer-level mini-DV and tripod. He said he was following the tour, and I guessed he was a professional blogger. On the floor, the mostly white, middle-class crowd held signs and red, white, and blue pom-poms. Others had fashioned their inflatable Bush “thunder-sticks” into crosses.
I noticed the silhouettes of three snipers up in the rafters. Oddly, this had a tranquilizing effect on me, a dose of hard reality against the saccharine pith and pep on the floor. This feeling dissipated when “The Patriot” radio host Laura Ingraham took the podium. While self-deprecatingly calling herself a “recovering lawyer,” she proceeded to slam light rail (“Maybe some of you would’ve taken it but it’s slow and doesn’t come here”) and the ACLU (“You’re supposed to boo when I say that!”). My irritation became uneasy surprise when she charged the local media with being unsupportive of the incumbent, at which point the mob turned and glared directly at us. Some hissed. I pointed at them and fired off a round of frames.
Randy Kelly gave his “best leadership in a time of crisis knows no party line” reasoning. Then we were led in prayer, followed by the Pledge of Allegiance—with a distinct, cheerleaderish emphasis on the embattled words “under God.” Then a fervent vet, retired Lt. Col. Joe Repya, placed bobbleheads of Kerry and Bush on the podium. Despite his passionate speech recapping the desert wars, no Rockem Sockem robot action ensued. When it was time for the Republican representatives and senators to hold forth, Rep. Gil Gutknecht stepped up to the dais and immediately got rid of the Kerry bobblehead. The Bush bobblehead remained on the podium through two more Republicans. Sen. Norm Coleman, however, decided the stage was not big enough for the both of them.
Finally President Bush arrived. BTO’s “Takin’ Care of Business” was cranked, and two “Bush/Cheney Heart and Soul Moving America Forward” buses pulled into the arena. There was a four-minute standing ovation, and BTO’s song came dangerously close to its shamelessly liberal refrain, “I love to work at nothin’ all day.” As the mayor tried to quiet the crowd, the president paraded onstage sporting the executive Home Depot look: rolled up denim-blue shirt and dark pleated slacks. The speech began and I went to work, unable to concentrate on the rhetoric but impressed by the man’s flow of confident poses and rapport. Similarities to Alfred E. Neuman and Zippy came to mind, but the overall effect and stance was more Michael Landon cross-faded with an Opie of the masses.
Was there a kill shot and a soul to steal? When Bush gestured as if holding the world in his hands like some preacher mimicking God, it seemed like an unfiltered fusion of church, state, and demagogue. Maybe. While squeezing the trigger, I wasn’t really listening. —Alex Balthazaar
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