Once upon a time, in a Midwestern state said to be politically competitive, I received a voice mail that began with a stirring rendition of the U.S. Marine Corp hymn:
From the Halls of MontezumaIt was Ham o' Bone, a good singer, who is full of fine capers including his latest: camp out overnight at the site of Obama's Sunday afternoon rally in Columbus so that he (Bone) could get a sign on camera behind the candidate and thus on television and in the paper and thus change the course of the Ohio election, possibly effecting the national one.
To the Shores of Tripoli;
We will fight our country's battles
In the air, on land and sea;
First to fight for right and freedom
And to keep our honor clean;
We are proud to claim the title
of United States Marine.
I signed up at least to the extent of meeting him at the rally. I felt like a Merry Prankster on Ken Kesey's bus.
So what would the sign say? Ah now there's the rub. For best results, he argued, the 10 by 12 foot sign ought have few words and say something new. His first choice, "Barack 'Animal Farm' Obama", met with generally unfavorable reviews from friends and spouses. Next up was "WEAK", which had a pithy brevity in its favor and would certainly stand out from the others.
Ham does nothing half-assed and so went to a sign store prepared to spend the quoted $112 which, in Bone money, is nearly $1000. (To call Ham frugal is to call Richard Dawkins unfavorably disposed to theism, or Idi Amin too inclined towards the use of force, or Sarah Palin telegenic.)
At a brainstorming breakfast at Bob Evans (alliteration unintended), my wife and I plotted the downfall of Obama's Ohio campaign over blueberry pancakes. We wanted to provide Bone plenty of alternatives to "WEAK", including:
LAMEThe list was politically explosive and I wasn't sure if the waitress could be trusted nor whether the salt shaker wasn't bugged. It obviously couldn't wait till after breakfast so I called Bone's cell just as he was on his way to the sign-maker whom, we hoped, was Republican enough to offer a gratis "sign over a sign" such that an Obama '08 (or some such nonsense) could be removed at the proper time in order to reveal one of our slogans. Since sign-makers are often small businessmen it seemed a good bet.
Divider Not a Uniter
IRS Agents 4 Obama
Risky
Robbin' Hood
Marxism Rules! Obama '08
Liar
Monsieur Obama
Eurobama
But something occurred to me on the way to our date with history: what if signs weren't allowed? He was the revolutionary and I was the implementer, the Thomas Paine to my Paul Revere. A quick Google showed Obama had banned signs in Virgina, much to the chagrin of conservative patriots out east. I tried to call the local newspaper without success before practicing my best NPR, latte-drinking voice and dialing the local chapter of the culture of death. All lines were busy at three of the four campaign headquarters, but the 4th time was the charm. I spoke to a young woman who repeated my question to a co-worker and who relayed the bad news: "No signs will be permitted." This on public property, namely the lawn of the State house building. Our plan foiled, I called Bone.
He had suggested before the possibility of carrying the sign in small pieces on his person and then assembling it at the rally but was worried about snipers taking him out due to mistaking his McGyver-like moves for bomb-assembly.
We briefly explored the possibility and effectiveness of a sign outside the cordoned off areas, and whether we should dump the sign idea altogether and just wear our "Nobama" shirts.
Instead we settled on having a beer at his house should I gather the requisite energy to drive the hour there. After all, planning a coup takes a lot out of a guy.
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