Subourbon Mom


Shwing Shtate

Last weekend I was doing what God has ordained all good Virginians do in the fall: Tailgate.

But not at a football game—watching horses race around a mile-long course at James Madison’s home, Montpelier plantation. They were jumping bushes and fences no horse in its right mind would ever do if there wasn’t an annoying tiny-man on its back hitting it with a stick.

For any southern tailgate, the men don their uniforms of khaki pants, button down shirt with bowtie, and navy blue jacket. The women dress up in silly hats, colorful scarves and ridiculous boots no self-respecting horseman would ever wear anywhere near a barn. They spread their southern delicacies (i.e. ham biscuits, devilled eggs and pecan pie—not everybody can bring chips and salsa!) on fold-up tables covered with their best tablecloths and silver chafing dishes. The centerpiece is an opus of fall foliage around silver candelabra or a horse statue. And lets not forget the most important feature: the drink table. Bourbon, wine, rum, vodka, champagne, and Bloody Mary mix are all ready to be tumbled into Jefferson cups or, in our case, red solo cups (nothing but the best for my friends!).

It was a beautiful day, free of cell phones, election flyers, and pimple-faced doorbell ringers. Not a tramp stamp in sight.

Until, THE INTERVIEW, that is.

That’s right, folks, an Irish reporter from a television station had a camera man in tow, circulating among the drunks, asking what it is like to live in a swing state. And guess what? He interviewed me. Yep, the least political person who’d already had about three bourbon and gingers.

That went well.

It’s a little vague, but I’m pretty sure I offered him a drink about every other sentence. In my golden-hazed mind, I managed to string together this thought: Irish-guy-must-want-to-drink-so-be-a-good-hostess-and-offer. He politely declined each time.

He asked me what it is like to live in a swing state. Thankfully I choked back a comment about all the rumors of swinging couples in the area where I live. Or at least I hope I did. In my head, I planned to give an intelligent rant about how we all are huddled in our living rooms, cowering from the ringing phones and massive recycle pile of election mail, and that the electoral college is unnecessary in this electronic age.

I’m pretty sure what came out was something like “It sucks.”

Yep, I’m a voter. Mr. Kluge, my Government high school teacher would have been so proud.

I’m pretty sure you’ll never see that interview on the news in the U.S., except maybe on YouTube as one of those Dumb American posts, but I have done my part to ensure that the international world’s view of Americans is still intact.

The news guy never did take a drink. Maybe if I’d had some Guinness…


5 Comments so far
Leave a comment

Oh, yes! The joy of phone calls from Mitt Romney, Pat Boone, and Michelle! It’s not to be missed.

Comment by Fuhrman, P.T.

Yep, Mr. Klug would have been overjoyed with your eloquence….and then sent you straight to the principal’s office for using the work “suck” and for wearing a hat. Thanks for the laugh!

Comment by Sherry

Glad you liked it–and glad you came out of the woodwork!

Comment by libbyhall

Now I’m really sorry that I missed that event. I will find that video somewhere!! 🙂

Comment by stephaniehudnell

[…] by an Irish news channel about my thoughts on what it’s like to live in a swing state (see “Schwing State”). Last year, Hubby had an “accident” in the parking lot that involved road rage and karma sent […]

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