Last night I found Palin’s America at an Elvis impersonator concert at a lounge in the Delaware Park Race Track and Casino. I enjoy kitsch; always have. Kitsch is simulation where the joke is on the folks who confuse the simulation for reality.
Last night I also discovered Palin country.
“Elvis” in a casino. Kitsch, right? Man, you would have thought the crowd was dancing away its tears (Tuesday eve). For them, the short bald guy wearing an Elvis toupee and late-Elvis Vegas style costume, was the KING.
And I discovered that just as you don’t want to be the only person holding up a Barack sign at a Palin rally, you don’t want to be the Jew-looking guy trying to get a quick I-phone photo (note: taking picture inside a casino is a violation of delaware state law. i won’t do it again). I almost got my head handed to me by a gent about 75 years old sitting at the bar right behind me. You’d think i was keeping him from his savior itself.
The crowd was made up of folks from Rising Sun, Maryland (because his denim jacket said so), which is still home to Maryland’s Klan. The guy would have shot me if only the casino let him in with his sidearm. Damn regulations!
Last night, Elvis was my kitschy celebration of Barack. For the all white, Elvis worshipping crowd, the evening was religion. Folks sweating elderly gyrations, and old ladies swooning with heavily perfumed Elvis scarves.
Elvis country is Palin country, a small, anachronistic but intensely loyal group that finds religion in being transported back to the ole “separate but equal” days of the 1950s.
but hey, I won $13 bucks!!!!