Redstate

(well, on television...)

By Mark Kilmer Posted in 2008 | Carroll | GOP | Iowa Caucus — Comments (2) / Email this page » / Leave a comment »

In an indirect sense, I attended the Republican caucus Thursday evening at the Des Moines Area Community College in Carroll, Iowa. Yeah, while the other kids were watching Hume and Cooper and that lame sportscaster, I watched the caucus live on C-SPAN2. (A Dem caucus was on the main network, the GOP on 2.)

The opening scene was one of people filing past a table, showing ID, and receiving a ballot. They wandered off camera to the caucus room. The man seated behind the table on the far left, nearest the camera, brought the late Henry Hyde to mind. It was the hair: solid and white.

The people's voices created a mini-din and C-SPAN took phone calls.

As the proceedings were about to begin, the scene switched to the caucus room, which was a large, cleared-out classroom with many rows of chairs and people standing to the sides of the chairs and behind the chairs. These Republicans were there to participate, and they brought to mind an earlier caller to the program. More on him in a bit.

A fellow in a suit with a Romney sticker affixed to the front stood in front of the gathering and tested the microphones. He asked if there were anyone from the campaigns who would like to speak. This fellow was John Werden, chairman of the caucus.

A gal with a Rudy sticker led those assembled in the Pledge of Allegiance. A young pastor led the prayer, thanks to God Almighty "in the name of Jesus Christ, our savior" for the country, for freedom, for democracy, and for the process. No stickers on the pastor. A high school girl in a red top with white polka dots came out and sang, without musical accompaniment, God Bless the U.S.A., and for this, she received her due applause.

This was all so American and it all seemed so wonderful, and it brought to mind an earlier caller to the program. More on him in a bit.

Read On…

Chairman Werden, the Romney supporter, came back to the microphone. He announced that they would be passing the "Buck Bags," envelopes into which people would place their contributions to help with the costs of this event and the upcoming convention. I noted that on his other lapel was pinned a small, gold cross.

Chairman Werden made himself the "permanent chair" by unanimous request. No one objected.

Speech time! Chairman Werden read through the list of candidates on the ballot to see if there were anyone who wanted to say anything, and no one answered. This left them with the three speeches which had been previously arranged. First the woman spoke of the merits of Rudy. Then, a young law school student talked of Senator McCain, with the sound too either to quiet for the back of the room or too loud for the system. Feedback. Flustered, he made it through his spiel.

Chairman Werden returned to the podium to discuss the merits of Mitt. Romney had always been a success, he said, and his audience should ignore the man's religion. (I assume this was a concern.) The feedback invaded, and the chairman wrapped it up: "Join me in supporting Mitt Romney."

No one spoke for the eventual winner, Mike Huckabee.

But it was time for these folks to vote, and I took the opportunity to switch to FNC for the coverage there. (Yes, I chose Brit Hume over CNN's blue jean heiress Anderson Cooper, spawn of Gloria Vanderbilt, and MSNBC's faded sportscaster.) FNC was calling the thing for Huckabee, with Romney a distant second. On one channel, the folks in Carroll were starting to cast their ballots, on the other, 't was over. Yes, unbeknownst to the Republican Iowans gathered at the Carroll Campus of the Des Moines Area Community College, the Iowa dreams of Chairman Werden ad Mitt Romney were dead.

Oh, well.

As the coverage of the caucus was beginning, C-SPAN was taking calls. A young man from a small town in Illinois called in to express his loathing of Iowans and their place in the process. Terms like rubes and sod-busters came up, and he laid them on thick. He talked about how it made him sick to see these bumpkins get their fifteen-minutes of importance. He, the young man from Illinois, on the other hand, professed to actually understand politics and how the system works. The hicks in their straw hats ought to go home and milk the cows.

Maybe that's the two Americas. One of them needs to be slapped.