The Tea Party Prank: How I Got My Butt Kicked (Literally), Just a Few Feet Away From Sarah Palin A comedy article
by John Hargrave 128,751 73 04/14/2010 01:27 PM 29675 views
I have done many high-risk pranks in my lifetime, coming nose-to-nose with security guards, police squads, even the FBI and the Secret Service. But I have never been so frightened for my safety as I was at the Tea Party rally in Boston, standing just a few feet away from Sarah Palin.
The irony is that I don't even care for politics. I think our government's doing a pretty good job, and I accept that some people feel differently. When people get bent out of shape for left-wing or right-wing causes, I view it with the kind of bemused curiosity as watching people who feel passionate about their local sports team, or hometown macrame champion.
However, there is one thing that I do take very seriously: being silly.
When ZUG writer Johnny Plankton suggested that we form a Very Silly Party called the "Nut-Tea Party" and hold up ridiculous protest signs at the Tea Party rally, I jumped right in. Nothing deflates the self-importance of the right (and the left) like nonsensical protest signs. So I asked the ZUG community for ideas, then made up a few myself.
Who doesn't?
Everyone would love the Yiddish "oy" ... unless they were anti-Semitic.
Now, Massachusetts is one of the most liberal states in the nation, so it was no surprise that tensions were already high on this sunny April morning on the Boston Common. An enormous crowd turned out for the Tea Party protest (conservatives), with a large crowd also turning out for the counter-protest (liberals). We brought along our fledgling group of Nut-Tea Party members to hold up our ridiculous messages like STOP PLATE TECTONICS and I FORGOT WHAT I'M ANGRY ABOUT.
We were first grouped with the liberal counter-protesters, who were confused about whose side we were actually on. "What's the meaning of your sign?" one woman asked me.
"Ham is a pork product," I responded, deadpan. "It's delicious with toast, or eggs, or with cheese on a sandwich. Tastes fantastic. Have you had it?"
"Not for thirteen years," she sniffed. "I'm a vegetarian."
"Sorry to hear that," I consoled her. "Ham is tasty."
Although a mob of thousands of people were now crowding the stage, I wanted to get my crazy sign photographed right next to Sarah Palin. So a couple of us crossed the line separating the liberals and the conservatives.
"You can't go over there," a cop told my cohort Neal. "We want a peaceful demonstration. No mixing of the two groups."
I didn't think this applied to me, since ham crosses party boundaries. I kept walking. No one stopped me, and soon I was lost in the thick of the crowd.
I waited patiently through the first hour of the program, which included a lot of patriotic songs, tributes to veterans, and repeated claims that Tea Party members are neither racist nor violent. I kept pushing my way closer to the stage, apologizing profusely as I stepped on senior citizens and disabled vets. The rock concert was about to begin, and I wanted to be in the center stage groupie position.
As singer Lloyd Marcus took the stage to sing the American Tea Party Anthem, I took advantage of the chaos to push myself up to the very front of the stage. I really got into the music, dancing and tapping my toes -- and who wouldn't?
"YOU CAN'T STAND THERE!" someone yelled, offended, I guess, by my oversized poofy hat. So I moved even closer to center stage, where someone else politely asked me to move along. This continued until I found myself in a great position, just a few feet away from the barricade which would separate the great unwashed masses from their future President, Sarah Palin.
When she finally took the stage, there was a great hue and cry as if the very earth had belched her forth, impeccably dressed in a smart red power suit. "What a city!" she shouted. "You've got the Red Sox, the Celtics, the Bruins, the Patriots..." At the mention of so many Boston sports teams in a single sentence, I whooped and hollered along with the crowd.
It was time to move into action. I lifted up my sign reading I LIKE HAM, high over my head. Now, this thing really was huge. I bought the largest foam board I could find at Staples, then pasted on enormous orange flourescent letters. The sign could be seen from space. I had it facing backwards, toward the crowd, so everyone could enjoy it, but apparently there was a lot of prejudice towards ham.
I heard a wave of chuckles, then murmuring, then an angry buzz. "MOVE YOUR SIGN!" someone shouted a minute later. How could Tea Party members not like ham? I thought to myself, since it was clear that many of them ate it several times daily. They can't be talking to me.
Store
128,751 
73 
4,444 
12
