Proselytizing for Palin

Proselytizing for Palin (P4P)

By TwoLegsGood

Late Sunday I had to go out and decided to swing by the wake at my local Borders Books, in the midst of their bankruptcy sale. (They're even selling light bulbs and antibacterial soap and containers out of the bathrooms...)

As I work my way over to the history/political section, the funereal atmosphere is punctured by the mumblings of some PDS (Palin Derangement Syndrome) afflicted person, an Obama-zombie of about 30, complaining loudly to a boy friend. With a wave of her hand she indicates two rows of Glenn Beck’s “BROKE” books in her section:

“Lookit allda CONservative books!”

I'm directly behind her in another aisle, watching now as she proceeds to cover up and hide all of the “BROKE” books with random titles she pulls off the next shelf. She’s intent on completely obscuring each Beck book in the section. She takes particular relish in finding Joe Biden’s bio as she fits it in front one of the "BROKE" books.

She then gravitates to a rack of Sarah Palin’s "AMERICA BY HEART" titles on sale near me. She goes after them by turning them around so their back covers are facing out. You’d have no idea what title it was by glancing at the back cover alone. And that's her goal.

All I can think is: this is a Tammy Bruce object lesson -- the Left always
counts on the passivity of the Right.

The zombie is in some weird PDS reverie, humming to herself as she turns the Palin books around. She’s so intent on her little act of book vandalism, I’m pretty sure she doesn’t notice me. I interrupt it all by reaching over, picking up one of the Palin books and saying:

“Good, I wanted one of these!”

Without looking up, she says...

“I KNEW you would."

I ignore this strange remark, instead challenging her authority to mess with book displays: "Do you work here?"

She meanders off with: "No...ha, ha..."

But it’s oddly personal of her to have said: "I knew you would" because she'd not made eye contact, and I’m pretty sure I’m not looking like a Stepford Conservative in a low-cut long sleeved pink thermal and tight jeans. The chick’s crazy. I put Palin’s book in my carrier and go over to re-arrange the Beck books she’d messed up. (I’m not a huge Beck fan, but still.) I take out my iPhone to take pictures of the scene:

http://twitpic.com/4gsc6b
http://twitpic.com/4gsbij

She's way at the end of the aisle by now (I catch her arm in one photo) and she sees the flash go off as I take shots of her “handiwork.”

http://twitpic.com/4gseq6
http://twitpic.com/4gsdj1

Itching for a fight, I guess, she marches back as I’m fixing the Palin
desecration.

I say:

“What you did here is really -- weird.”

She answers with some unintelligible, but purposefully mocking:

“Bleyblahblablgiggbabla...”

And I say...
“That’s all you can say for yourself -- gibberish?”

She continues with the mocking tones but won’t confront me directly, sort of like how homeless demoniacs talk out loud at bus stops. I'm now a little pissed off and I say:
“That’s just -- gibberish!”

Her little friend, who's white (she's black) dutifully tags behind as she drifts away from me. He’s somehow held captive by her liberal vandalism. I realize she's playing some race card on her friend as well as everyone in the store. But her race card didn’t work on me -- I think she was surprised I called her on her antics.

She must have followed me upstairs, because when I turn to go, I see she’s done the same thing to another Palin display. But the Borders people are on to her, they are quietly re-arranging the books after she leaves the area.

I take a deep breath. My reaction had been less than cool; I really wanted to throttle the little wingnut. I’m sure there was a better way of handling it, but I can’t think in the moment of what that might be.

The truth is I'd come to Borders to see what books they had on Sarah Palin, not AMERICA BY HEART, of course, but was hoping they had GAME CHANGE (they did) --wanted it so I could perhaps figure out what angle the filmmakers would take with the Julianne Moore adaptation. Having been a script analyst for Hollywood producers for years while trying to establish a writing career -- I wanted to do my own story notes on GAME CHANGE to see how they might attack Palin.

So I feel uncomfortable as I go to check out, because I’ve narrowly avoided a scene with the PDS zombie and I don’t know where she might be lurking. As I'm talking to the counter-guy, I notice a big photo scrapbook of Palin, something I hadn’t seen before.

I ask for it. And as I do, I say:

"I came in to see what you guys had on Sarah Palin."

As I say it, I regret it. That little zombie’s actions affected me, intimidated me to the point I now feel self-conscious. The way I said it was as if I was simply curious to do research on Palin, not a firm Palinista.

I remember meeting Thomas S. Schmitz at the C4Palin meet up in Chicago, and how he explained what he was doing on behalf of Sarah Palin, basically creating Palin art and Palin graphics out of whatever he had on hand (crayons on paper, handmade photo collages) and politically proselytizing in the name of Sarah Palin whenever and wherever he could.

Thomas is like an evangelist in a brothel when he gives out stickers and Organize4Palin materials in Hollywood. I thought about the guts it takes him to do what he does, and here I am at my local suburban bookstore where I’m suddenly intimidated by a Dem nutcase because I’m for Sarah Palin?

So I go back in line to final checkout where I recognize the worker as someone I’d kibbitzed with at the store over the years, and I tell him I am into, really into, Sarah Palin as he rings up GAME CHANGE and the other book. He’s kind of startled. L.A. is not PalinTown...yet! I notice an intelligent looking woman next to me -- her ears perking up as I speak. She’s interested. I go on telling the Borders guy I believe Palin is the right person to fix our current nightmare, I’ve got my hopes on her for 2012. I say it sweetly, but firmly and loud enough for eavesdroppers behind me in the line to hear. (If I'm going to discuss Sarah Palin, I'll say it in a public voice.) My old Borders pal smiles at me, hands me my Palin books. He has no idea where he's going to get another job, he's worked there for six years, Obama's not his hope or change.

As I go, I realize the zombie chick and her zombie pal are long gone, but the smart looking woman does a slight double-take when she sees me in the parking lot.

It’s a thoughtful recognition. I’m happy I proselytized for Palin.

-TwoLegsGood