Technology failed me. My grand plan to blog from the Rally to Restore Sanity did not work because phone signals were apparently jammed out the ying-yang.
Since I’m now trapped in a middle seat, I will give a recap of mine and MTM’s visit to the craziness, I mean saneness, of the party.
Best Costume: Actually, it was a tie between a woman decked out like a bottle of champagne and a human-sized marijuana plant. I couldn’t decide which one was more clever.
Best Surprise: For me, the Cat Stevens/Ozzy Osborne/OJ’s train set was surreal. Inspired entertainment.
Best Sign: I was going to vote for the snake South Carolina “don’t tread on me” flag that instead read “don’t yell at me” until we left. On the way out, we passed a big pile of horse poop with a handwritten sign that read “make love, not poo doo.” I do have photos.
Best coincidence: We struggled to get ourselves positioned in the front third of the action and ended up standing right behind a woman from Aiken, South Carolina. In that sea of humanity, it was surreal to end up standing with someone from my own state.
Number of times I two-fisted: Well, two, of course.
Number of times I smelled pot: I lost count due to the effects of the second-hand fumes. But, it was a lot.
Number of times I smelled skunk: Not a typo. We smelled actual pole cat aroma three times.
Number of times I successfully connected on my Verizon Blackberry World Phone: ZERO; number of times I tried: At least 100.
Biggest applause: For all the crazies who successfully climbed trees to get a better vantage point.
Instead of grabbing our place at the very front of the Rally to Restore Sanity, what are MTM and I now doing? Rushing to DuPont Circle, the opposite direction for those unfamiliar with DC.
We’re going to Le Pain Quotidien to assemble a French picnic. Because sane people only picnic with French food.
Concerned that we will be three frigid hours with only peanuts for company, our stomachs got the better of us.
MTM and I are destined to be two geriatric fat people.
In the inky darkness that is a typical Fall morning on the East Coast of the United States, I’m freezing my pattootie off. I can’t believe I am going to be standing outside in a blowing gale on the National Mall in Washington DC when I could be sleeping in on a Saturday.
I should say that it would be a cold day in Hell before I’d get up this early, but for a political rally? I always thought Hell would be consumed by ice cubes before I’d ever show up at such a preposterous thing.
On the upside, lots of people are already out and about. They appear upbeat and suitably sane. Good thing, since it’s a Rally to Restore Sanity, conducted by people who are likely certifiably insane.
But, at least they value truthiness.
Okay, I’m going to go find the purported porta-potties and the peanut snacks everyone is talking about. That’s my breakfast. Peanuts. IF they have any. More from the Rally to Restore Sanity as things unfold, sane or otherwise.
It’s the eve of Jon Stewart’s Rally to Restore Sanity, and I’m on the ground in Washington DC. While their latest Twitter post euphorically proclaims that there will be porta-potties at the event so that we can all use them, I seriously hope that I laugh until I pee my pants in public.
It won’t be the first time.
Lest anyone think I’m already insane for traipsing across the country attending political rallies, let me set the record straight. I’ve been in DC for two days for a totally unrelated event. Someone has to go to our museums and look at the projects that are happening on practically every street corner in DC with our stimulus dollars. Might as well be moi.
While nobody voted for me, I’m here to represent YOU and your interests back home. During my visit, I will focus on the issues and bring them to you in post-by-post updates directly from the rally. I hope my contributions will help working families, grow the economy, put children first, and reach across party lines to reform government in a grand gesture that will serve the American people.
I promise that I will inhale. All of it. Just for you.