My Sarah Palin Experience Posted By Victoria Jackson

My Sarah Palin Experience

Posted By Victoria Jackson On April 4, 2010 @ 6:59 am In Featured Story, Politics | 24 Comments

Searchlight, NV March 27, 2010

My friend Bonnie asked me to drive with her to Searchlight, NV  for the Tea Party Express Kickoff where Sarah Palin was going to speak.  I said, “Yes!”  Then, I started thinking about reality.  I would need to pay a dog sitter and a teenager sitter.  My daughter couldn’t come with me because she was winning an award at the 168 Film Festival in Glendale – all the more reason for me to stay home. Then, I would have to sit in a car for ten hours round-trip. I hate sitting. I don’t travel unless I’m getting paid.  Tea Parties don’t pay.  Of course, I attend them for one purpose only – to save my country.  But, it helps if there’s an added incentive, like a free T shirt or meeting Sarah Palin!  But, if I was in a crowd of thousands there would be little chance I would meet Sarah.  Suddenly I was invited to be one of the speakers at the Searchlight event!  YES!  This would ensure my private moment with Sarah, so I said YES!

I finished reading her book so I would know what to say to her when I met her. She was the “me” I could have been if I had made different choices, and if fate had…you know, made me Alaskan.  We had so much in common.  But, I have a feeling everyone feels that way because way over 10,000 people were there waiting in the dry, windy desert along with me, just to get “to touch the hem of her garment.”  That’s a Biblical reference.  

I dreamily meditated on the similarities Sarah and I had.  We were both Jesus followers who went to church, loved God and we’re not afraid to say so. We were both married to our high school sweethearts.  We both had Dads who were schoolteachers. We both grew up poor and hard working and loved it.  e both had little childhood exposure to television. We were both famous. She now more than me, but in the late 80’s, me more than her…so it balances out. We were both athletes, her-basketball, me-gymnastics. We both are Conservatives fighting to keep America a free country.  She has to be my best friend, whether she wants to be or not. 

So, I went through the schlepping, traveling, sweating, reading, waiting, public restroom using, traveling torture.  In Vegas I hopped on The Tea Party Express Bus. I settled into my allotted 24 inches of space and started talking to the strangers around me.  Lloyd was a black conservative.  He was kind, fun, and knew the issues.  We vented on each other. I fell in love with him. Ron and Kay Rivoli were a duet with buttery, country voices who helped me find the C minor for my new song that I was trying to memorize, “I Hope I Don’t Get Sick,” dedicated to ObamaCare.  We vented and bonded.  Their first big political hit was “Press 1 for English.” Kay gave me my first flag pin. Two attractive older people turned out to be TeaPac winners. Rapper Politik discussed with us how “handouts” keep people down. Darla. Dustin. Quiet Guy. Sweet Debbie whose war hero son just died in battle for us, on August 2nd. Tom the cute bus driver. Diana was doing vocal exercises and sounded like an opera star. Young, handsome Levi. Sal and Janet. Fell in love with them all. Fell in love with Amy, one of the 22 original founders of the Tea Party movement.  She was Southern Grace walking and she wore pearls.  She patiently told me how it all started with 22 strangers venting on Facebook as they watched our country sliding into ….this hell it is floundering in.  When we finally got to the middle of desert nowhere, the bus stopped.  I had 20 new best friends. We all held hands and prayed. 

I looked out the bus window.  Thousands of people with flags and signs.  Black people too.  Rich and poor. Young and old. RV’s had been camped out there for two days. They had the front row seats for Sarah Palin.  I didn’t know where to go or when I was onstage.  It wasn’t too organized. It’s GRASSROOTS!  Finally, a nice guy I’d met before at an Evan Sayet show showed me where Breitbart was.  I sauntered over to him in hopes of using him to get to meet Sarah Palin.  He could see right through me!  I told him I’d met Hannah Giles and was soooo excited.  But, she had replied, “And who are you?”  Breitbart smiled, “It’s a different generation!”  Yep.  I heard Sarah Palin was onstage so I strained to see her.  I found that the best view I could get was from the inside of my bus on the top step.  So, I stood there.  I couldn’t hear a word. Wind was blowing.  People clapping.  I grabbed my camera and took three photographs of her back through the bus door from 200 feet away. 


I went back outside to try and get close to her as she left.  I ran into Joe the Plumber and was thrilled to meet him.  I tried to hook him up with my friend Bonnie who’s single. Joe’s single, muscular and gave a great speech, with no notes!  I told him that his fateful, little exchange with Obama had been the last piece of evidence I’d needed to conclude my theory that Obama was a Communist.  That quote, “Spread The Wealth,” was the last nail in the coffin for me.  Joe smiled and nodded.  I told him, “I think it was a God thing…you being there at just that moment…when O was walking by, trying to improvise and accidentally letting the truth out.”  Joe nodded and said, “I was just playing ball with my son.” 

I kept straining to see Sarah Palin.  Finally, I saw a glimpse of her chestnut hair snuggled near her husband Todd and between like, ten bodyguards who were all eight feet tall.  Everyone was trying to get a piece of her…in a good way. 

Later I was told by an insider that she had asked her entourage if they could stop at gas station so she could “get a Coke.” And, she wanted to go into the store by herself, just for the fun of it. 

My Sarah Palin book sat on my suitcase unsigned.  But, that’s okay.  I was onstage in a couple minutes.  I took a deep breath and gathered my notes.  My first line was gonna be, “Mr. Joe Biden, this….is a big F- ing deal…and the F stands for freedom!” (applause)  Then, I was going to say, “This is the America I want to live in (referring to the crowd), not that Welfare State, Obama, Pelosi and Reid are trying to create.  We are going to fire them!  (loud applause) …Starting right here in Reid’s hometown!”  (huge applause)  Then, I was going to say “We are in a battle.  Ephesians 6:12.  They fight with lies, cheating, bribery, lies, tax cheats, profanity and lies.  We fight with wisdom, love, and truth.”  I liked that line. 

Then, I was going to tell my story about what Communism means to me.  I grew up in Miami and watched it turn into Cuba West as thousands of Cubans risked their lives on rafts coming to America for Freedom; to escape Castro and Communism.  The news of the day had been that ‘Castro approves Obama’s Health Care Plan.’  Well, of course he does!  He’s a Communist Dictator!  Man, are people dumb or what? I was going to tell my story of dating Angel Otero, who at age 15 wanted to be a preacher.  I asked him where his father was.

He said, “He’s in a jail in Cuba.” 

I said, “Why?!” 

Angel said, “Because he resisted the Communist overthrow of our government.  At 15 that had vague relevance to me, but I got it. 

I was going to tell the story my Cuban neighbor told me when I asked her, “What is it like to live in Communism?” 

She had replied, “What’s it like?  I’ll tell you.  In kindergarten the children are told to bow their heads and pray to God and ask for candy.  When their eyes open, there is no candy.  Then, they are instructed to pray to Castro for candy.  They bow their heads and pray to Castro and when they open their eyes, they have candy.” 

Cowboy Chris Burgard introduced me and I took the stage.  I glanced at my notes blowing in the wind but grasped tightly in my hand.  All the people staring at me were “on the same page” and we took comfort in knowing we were not alone.  There were coolers and folding chairs and flags and kind faces.  I didn’t see any beer or litter or anger…or even T    shirt vendors…just concern and that old fashioned thing called patriotism. 

I started to sing my new song I’d just finished learning on the bus. The crowd had thinned since Palin was gone.  But the crowd was still big and passionate. Maybe the most passionate.  They had stayed the longest. 

As Brenda and I pulled our car into the slow crawl of Tea Partiers leaving, we saw a Tea Party Express parked vehicle that was covered in magic marker signatures.  We hopped out to sign it.  A man from the New York Times started taking our picture and then he asked our names.  Bonnie said, “What do you think of the Tea Party?  Are we an angry, dangerous mob?” He shrugged, “Both sides have extremes.”  His neutral apathy bothered me.  And, his equating us to  them – the bribe-takers, liars, and cheats.  We leave our rallies litter- free.  They leave litter.  They Code Pink our speakers and make movies about killing Bush.  Cantor didn’t even publicize his death threat bullet through the window attack until the Progressives whined about their phony spitting N-word attack. Their extreme is Mao.  Our extreme is Honest Abe.  

“Political Power grows out of the barrel of a gun.”  Mao Tse Tung

“Intelligence, patriotism, Christianity, and a firm reliance on Him, who has never yet forsaken this favored land, are still competent to adjust all of our present difficulty.” Abraham Lincoln 

Please Mr. NY Times Guy, don’t even put me in the same sentence as the Left.

We were stuck in a traffic jam for hours.  We stared out across the barren desert.  I asked a stranger on the side of the road if I could use their RV restroom.  I said, “I’m Tea Party!”  They smiled warmly and obliged.  Me and Brenda listened to the beautiful CD’s of our new friends Ron and Kay.  I read Lloyd’s book, “Confessions of a Black Conservative.”  We put our poster proudly in the back window.  It had a list under the words, “Government Takeover.”  The list said, “Real Estate, Banks, Autos, Media, Health Care, Amnesty, Cap N Trade.  Each had a box next to it that was checked.  All except Amnesty and Cap N Trade.  We hoped to educate the uninformed who might pass us on the five hour drive home. 

So, though I never got to literally touch Sarah Palin,  I touched her.  I touched her heart.  Her heart is the American heart; the honest, brave, hard working one that honors God and reaps the blessings of His promise in Leviticus 26, “If you keep my commandments…I will look on you favorably and make you fruitful…I will give peace in the land, and none will make you afraid.”

I touched Sarah Palin.  She touched me.

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