red, white, black and blue
When I first viewed the two masks my wife brought home I was taken aback at how freaky they looked.
Something about the dead face and that hanging skin made them scary and disturbingly realistic.
They were completely creepy; perfect for our late October plans.
I had been looking forward to going to an adult costume party for two months; ever since they first began to talk about it in late August.
This bash had a reputation for being off the hook, and I’d missed it the last two years.
This year, I was determined to go; determined to pull out all the stops and have a great time.
Friday October 31st at 7:30AM
The four members of our family were in full costume.
I got permission to work from home, so it would be the ideal time to make a dry run with one of the masks at my daughter’s bus stop.
I donned the mask and we began walking up the block.
The first thing I noticed was how hard it was to breathe with this thing on. How would I stay in character? Could I go the distance?
I had one full day, a night of trick or treating, a house party at Memas and then the big adult party the following night.
I knew it was going to be a challenge, but I promised myself I wouldn’t break out of character unless I was close to passing out from lack of oxygen.
We arrived at the bus stop; me panting heavily, my hands shaking nervously.
I was charged up to see how this would be received, waiting for the first set of eyes to take me in. I reminded myself: It was Halloween, after all.
As people approached, I felt an internal transformation take place.
Sinking my neck down and bringing my arms in close, I begin the shtick:
“Hello! Are you going to vote for me? I’m a Maverick… Country First! Country First!”
I kept it going with all the kids and parents…
“I need your vote! If the kids vote, I may have a chance to win! If everyone votes for me, twice, I may do this and go Maverick on ya!”
“Don’t vote for the Socialist! Vote for the Maverick!”
The reaction to John McCain was cold, to say the least.
The crowd was freaked out and standoffish; their body language was closed and withdrawn. Uncomfortable giggles and crooked smirks were the norm.
I could see and feel people trying to register it, and see in their eyes the thought pattern:
Does this guy really support McCain?
What’s going on here?
After I’ve been watching this on TV for two years, now I have this man in a mask in front of me, saying the same exact things?
A few asked: “Your really not going to vote for McCain, are you?”
Waving frantically with my stiff arms and sunken-in neck, I replied: “Heck, yes! I’m John McCain and I’m a Maverick!
The bus pulled away I begin walking home, feeling a bit foolish.
After doing some e-mail and getting the twentieth pep-talk that week from my boss, my other boss (a.k.a. my wife) returned from the first of two Halloween parties she was volunteering for at our daughter’s school.
She was already exhausted; and asked if I could pick up lunch at a local sandwich store.
Oh, yeah: Another opportunity to strut my stuff!
I pulled up into the parking lot and got right into character.
Stepping out of the car, I cleared my throat and entered the store:
There was a line all the people with their backs to me; it was a real charge waiting for them to turn around and take their first look.
The clerk looked up and said in a stern voice: “Who is that?”
I answered:
“I am Barack Obama, and I’m here to pick up Jason’s order!”
He grabbed the sandwiches quickly and began ringing them up.
I sensed everyone in the store thought I was going to rob the place. It was a very tense scene. I yelled out, as presidentially as I could:
“There are red states and blue states, but we’re all part of the United States of America.”
Then I picked up the sandwiches: “Trick or treat? Does Barack get some free lunch today?”
The total was 20.00 dollars and 25 cents.
With two twenties and a mask on, I handed him twenty and walked out, saying: “Don’t forget to vote!” A shout from someone saying: “Watch your back!” was the last thing I heard as I left.
The next stop was Mema’s house, where we had a party before the trick or treating began.
I arrived as McCain and immediately, all the kids attacked me, pulling at my mask and slapping me on the behind. They wanted that creepy person to go away, so I finally let them see it was me.
As soon as the mask went, on the chase began again: I was running laps in the backyard trying to get away.
Some of the kindergartners supported me as McCain; it must have been the grandpa effect.
We hit the streets at dark and I rolled out as Obama.
Everything was going cool, until we walked past a group of African-Americans.
I could tell that they didn’t find anything entertaining about my mask.
They weren’t dressed in any costume and gave me a mean look: I sensed they would have been upset at me if I had said anything, so I moved by quickly and awkwardly.
It was Halloween, yet for that moment, I felt the pain of racism. Was I being disrespectful? Was this mask out of bounds?
However, as the night went on, I began to feel the internal transformation again and soon I was Obama; and the people loved me.
The body language was great, as smiles replaced frowns.
“You have my vote!” I began to get hugs from strangers and high fives from the fellow trick or treaters.
Near the end of our walk, we came up to a house of teenagers and they looked me up and down, not sure what to make of the costume.
Finally, one of them came up to me and gave me a hug, saying: “I’m going to vote for you.” Another said: “Watch out, they’re going to try and shoot you.”
I joked, saying: “I’m too fast, they won’t get me.”
Someone else yelled out : “Yo, you should put a blood spot on your back.”
With that comment, I began bobbing and weaving: “I’m too fast, they can’t get me!”
Bullet sound effects were yelled out; then my brother, in the McCain mask, came in throwing punches at me.
We proceeded to have a WWF-style fight on the front lawn, with everyone cheering.
After beating down McCain, I went full-sprint down the block. It was a great final act.
Now back at Memas’, the music played on:
Obama likes to dance, so dance I did.
Completely uninhibited by wearing a mask, I channeled the spirit of Obama.
Grooving the night away, stopped only to break into my speech:
“Say yes to hope, and no to Fear! I will fight the insurance companies that label anyone with a preexisting condition! Now I’m not saying this is going to be easy… After eight years of a Bush White House, we have some work to do: Still, we can do it together. Are you with me?”
Saturday Nov. 1st
The kids were at the babysitter, friends were on their way over and we were dressing up for one last time.
My wife transformed into a great Sarah Palin. I was going to be McCain to start off the night. We packed a pull-along wagon and made our way, six blocks over to the hut.
The “Hut” was decked out for Halloween with scary music and a fog machine; it really set the mood.
As we walked in, the band just started jamming and McCain got his groove on.
Stiff as a board, I pulled out the moonwalk then began waving stiffly and frantically to the beat of the music.
My neighbor, dressed as an 80’s girl, was my first dance partner. We went off with the party looking on in horror.
When the band stopped, McCain began his stump:
“Obama is a socialist! He is going to raise your taxes! I’m the Marvick, Goddammit, vote for me!”
There was a cold reception to this speech.
People were confused; they didn’t know what to make of it.
I kept pouring it on, dancing as wacky as I could, now with Sarah Palin at my side and spewing the stump speech whenever the band stopped:
“Where’s Joe the plumber?” I screamed out. “Where is he? Oh, I thought he was here… How about Mike the plumber?”
A liberal Pirate attacked me with his sword.
I tried to defend myself with some karate moves.
After chasing him off I yelled out ”I didn’t live in the Hanoi Hilton four years to come home and put up with your sorry soul; country first I’m a Marvick”
The first set ended, so I snuck outside to get some air.
Sweat dripping from my face, I grabbed a smoke and grinned at how well it was going.
People were really getting bent:
Does this guy have to talk every time the band stops?
He’s not for real, is he?
My PR team at the party began to spread the word that Obama may show up.
It was now about 11:00, so the party was really going off: People everywhere, dancing and having a good time.
I asked the band to announce me as I walked in.
When I made my entrance as Obama, the crowd immediately gravitated to me, wide-eyed.
It was as if I had a magnet, and was pulling people towards me.
I yelled out:
“We will make history in three days!”
Loud cheers rang out: “Obama! Obama! Obama!”
The crowd loved it; we all began to dance again.
Now my moves were more fluid and loose. I really let go, going up to anyone and everyone and just goofing with them.
My wife got a bit angry at all the female attention I received: Girls were grabbing me, hugging and kissing me, asking for pictures; it was sick!
Palin was getting lots of attention too, mainly from the boys at the party.
We loved it all; what a great time.
I switched back and forth a couple of times through the rest of night, just to mess with some people that didn’t know I was the same person in both masks.
It was great when I’d approach someone I knew, or better yet, someone I didn’t know, and asked them for a kiss; sticking this creepy mask in their face saying: “You love McCain!” or “You love Obama, I know you do!”
Near the end of the night a guy I didn’t know came up to me laughing and said this is crazy I am in the military. I sensed it felt good for this solider to be able to laugh at something that is deadly serious for him and his family.
Looking back I feel a sense of guilt for not thanking him for his service.
Both my wife and I were nominated for best costume. We eventually placed third and fourth, after Michael Jackson and a group dressed as Gilligan’s Island.
Still, it was the best party I’d been to in a long time.
At the end of the night, I said my goodbyes with the Obama mask on.
I received emotional hugs: It was like people really thought I was Barrack Obama and wanted to show me their love.
In an unspoken language, I truly sensed that they not only wanted me to win, but they needed me to win.
It was very moving to feel that from so many different people.
It’s true, Barack Obama has made an emotional connection with people at a very deep level; and John McCain hasn’t.
It was a great experience to walk in both men’s shoes; and I have a new-found respect for each of them.
This experiment allowed me to feel the excitement, the pain, the rejection and the acceptance. To feel the love and hate, the fear and hope, the things that exist in all people.
We Americas are all extremely different, yet we can all live with one another.
So let’s not forget our fellow Americans this Tuesday; and when one side wins, remember that we’re all is this mess together.
On most days, we can all be Red, White, Black and Blue.
