Meeting Sarah Palin

“Sarah Palin wants to meet you,” the e-mail read. Wow, that was incredible. Sarah Palin wanted to meet me personally. But there were a few problems with the e-mail. First, it was addressed to my younger brother, who’s been using my e-mail address. What are younger brothers for.

It wouldn’t be surprising if she wanted to meet him; he’s tall, well-built, and ruggedly handsome. But she’s already got her first-dude, Todd, who already meets all those qualifications. If she wanted a bodyguard, though, my brother would fit the bill.

The second problem with the e-mail was that the writer wanted to meet me, or rather, my brother, in Anaheim, Calif. Wrong coast, dearie. We lived in Long Beach years and years ago when I was just a baby. We’ve been here on the East Coast ever since and I couldn’t afford the airfare out to California just to meet Sarah.

I’d love to meet her! But in my response back I said I’d just have to wait until she came East. She’s the best. If people read her book, they’d learn about all the lies the Media has told about her and about how Rahm Emmanuel bulldozed her with phony legal claims that she had to foot the bill for.

There was still hope to meet Gov. Palin. She was going to be at Glenn Beck’s Restoring Honor Rally in August. Trouble was, I was a bus captain, and there were about 300,000 other people who were hoping to meet with her personally, too. There was too much of a mob between me and the stage, and I had to be back on my bus before my passengers mutinied. No time for autographs.

Then, I heard about how she’s on the Tea Party Express IV bus and will be blasting through New Jersey on Oct. 31st. Great, I thought! A real Tea Party Rally, where we could bring signs, American flags, and wear costumes. There’d be a lot of people there, but at least not the 300,000 there were in Washington.

Only the rally is going to be in Toms River. A bit of a ride from North Jersey. But for Sarah, I’d make the trip. It would be fun. I’d listen to all my best Halloween CDs on the way down – Phantom of the Opera, Johnny Cash’s Ghost Riders in the Sky. Go down early, come back early, so I wouldn’t be dead on arrival at work the next day.

But alas, when I finally unearthed the details, the rally is going to be at 8 o’clock – in the evening. A Sunday evening. Travel up and down the Garden State at night? Alone? I think not. There went another chance to see my political heroine, the greatest Conservative politician since Ronald Reagan.

I feel sorry for her, and I guess her family, traveling cross-country on a bus. It isn’t easy. She has three stops that day – Harrisburg, Pa., Wilmington, Del., and then Toms River. That’s a pretty hectic schedule; it’s a long ride from Harrisburg to Wilmington, and then to Toms River, and that’s just one day. The trek began in California a few days ago. I traveled cross-country by bus once when I was in my teens. I wanted to visit a friend who’d moved to California but I didn’t want to fly; it was a nightmare. My mom is a former bus driver who used to do the Atlantic City Run. At the 999th trip, she said, “No more!”

So it looks like I won’t get to meet Sarah any time soon. If she’s staying overnight in New Jersey and then heading on to Connecticut the next morning, maybe I could station myself at the park overlooking the GW and wave as she zooms by.