When I first heard that Trump was holding a rally in Chicago this Friday, naturally I was all like, “Hey, dude, while you’re in town, how about you get your feckin’ name off of our skyline because we’ve hated it being there since way before this election – Chop, chop. Oh, and Annoying Orange called – it wants its brand back.”
But then I thought, “Hold the fort. Didn’t I say just in a post a couple of weeks ago that I didn’t want to run and hide from this political circus? That no matter what the fates have in store for this country, I want my son to see his Mom take a stand against hatred and fear?
So I decided to pull my enemies closer by procuring a ticket for the Trump rally. I want to stand alongside my fellow Americans – those who believe that the Big Orange Fascist would make a great leader for our nation. I want to look them in straight in the eyes, and see what I find. (Only my eyes will probably be brown on Friday. Going behind enemy lines is nothing to take lightly.)
So what does a girl wear to a fascist rally, anyway?
Keep in mind:
- This is not some undercover sting operation. I won’t be cornering some random passerby and tricking them into admitting they are just glad someone is finally making it socially acceptable to be exceptionally self righteous about one’s whiteness. (Though if they happen to say it out loud and their voice makes its way to the microphone of my iPhone – so be it. That’s not a sting – that’s just ambience caught on tape.)
- I will be going stealth. I won’t be there to protest, but to witness. My camouflage will less hunter, more bird watcher. I’m not going to stir the turds on Friday night.
- “Still…be careful, JA.” Said everyone. Check. I’m taking a male blogger friend who will be named later, just to be on the safe side. But even if I keep my mouth shut and steer clear of heated arguments, I could still be “discovered” if I’m asked to pledge to the cause – third reich style – like they did in Florida a few days back. I won’t do it, and I’m just hoping if that happens again this Friday night, I won’t be the only one sitting it out.
So how do I transform myself from Participation Ribbon Liberal to one of the Frumpy-Trumpys I’ve seen in the background at the rallys: women in embroidered sweatshirts cheering on big-bellied men in trucker hats who jeer and shove black Americans around before ejecting them from the venue? How the hell am I going to keep my mouth shut? For that to happen, I’d almost have to be someone else, entirely.
That’s it! I’ll create a fascist alter-ego. I shall call her “Pam.”
Now, what will Pam wear?
I’ll keep working on it, and will deliver a full report to you some time soon after Friday night. Will live tweet it, too: @oldsinglemom
But know this – if you are a Chicago resident who is going to the rally in earnest, and you think you will be able to identify me by studying my blogger picture: you won’t. That picture is all smoke and mirrors: part of a deliberate strategy I implemented to make you think I am the person I want you to think I am.
Just like Trump.
But I have a lot of really excellent disguises in my wheelhouse.
Also like Trump.
That’s my piece, and that’s my peace. Thank you for taking the time to read my silly words. It truly means the world to me. Carry on….
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