Sara(h) Smiles, Part 3: Knockin' on Actual Doors

Once having phoned the various rock stars I’d been asked to contact, and that stuck-up so-and-so (I’m really beginning to master the lingo, I think!) Michael Palin, I finally exacted Mama Grizzly in Charge’s permission to go out and knock on some actual doors.

There are those (now I sound like Ronald Reagan!) who will wonder why, mere days after the midterm elections, we in the Committee to Elect Sarah in 2012 are already out knockin’ doors in anticipation of a presidential election two years down the road. The answer is that, if Glenn Beck is right and Obama has thousands of socialist brownshirts ready to nationalize the banks and declare martial law and shut down Fox News and what have you, we want to have enough money to evacuate all right-thinking, patriotic Americans up to Alaska, or at least one of the white supremacist strongholds in northern Idaho, and busfare isn’t cheap these days, as you’ve probably noticed unless you’re a liberal elitist in a Prius.

Given the stranglehold Jewish socialists have on the lamestream media, I was frankly expecting to encounter a lot of resistance, but I was warmly welcomed into the first house on whose door I tapped. Middleaged (assuming he’s going to live to about 110), unshaven, Budweiser-gutted, and backward baseball-capped — even though it was a New York Jets cap, and they’re actually a football team — my host zseemed delighted to have company, and was even more delighted when I revealed on whose behalf I was calling on him. He wasn’t able to make a contribution, as he’d been unemployed for 38 months, and was living on what he’d managed to save during his years as a broker of subprime mortgages.

I’d have enjoyed discussing the issues with him, and getting a real average American’s view on the jeopardy on which Obama socialism has placed our way of life, but he turned out to be strangely irate about Elvis Presley’s having done virtually all his military service in Germany. It was his understanding that Elvis, like Bill Clinton after him, didn’t regard fellatio as real sex, and his belief that if Elvis had had to fight the Taliban rather than sit around eating fried banana, peanut butter, and sauerkraut sandwiches and receiving oral sex from apple-cheeked frauleins, he’d have been a very different person when he returned to civilian life, one less inclined to record “In the Ghetto,” say, or “Smoke on the Water.”

I pointed out that Sarah herself has a son, Sprig, in the military, and will be a lot more circumspect about putting fine young American men and women — or at least the kind of young American men and women whose circumstances are so desperate as to make military service seem an attractive option — in harm’s way than B. Hussein Obama, who was busy experimenting with drugs and editing the Harvard Law Review when his country needed him. My host admitted to having not served in the military himself, and of actually owning no Elvis records or CDs; he described himself as more of a Pete Seeger man. I didn’t suppose it would advance anyone’s cause to point out that St. Pete had sung for Obama in 2008, and for other socialists in earlier elections.

He asked if I’d heard the bootleg CD of Pete jamming with Bruce Springsteen, Axl Rose, John Mellencamp, Willie Nelson, and the Jonas Bros. I suspected he was pulling my legs about the Jonas Bros., and indeed he was. His wife or girlfriend or what have you (he didn’t introduce us) brought us a bag of Cheetos and a couple of cold Bud Lites to enjoy while we listened to the music. I didn’t actually like it very much, but trying to pretend I did seemed the least I could do to help take our country back from the Muslims and wealth-spreaders and what have you.