Romney Goes Bowling for Dollars
“NO BAGGY CLOTHES. NO CONSTRUCTION BOOTS. NO SPORTS JERSEYS. NO HEAD GEAR. NO RIPPED OR BAGGY CLOTHING, ” screamed a sign outside Lucky Strike Lanes in Gallery Place-Chinatown. They shuffled by in dark, black overcoats, nodding quietly to the flirty volunteers at registration, themselves in matching black button-ups. They were big-time federal donors, and they were here to bowl with Mitt Romney.
Washington, D.C. was still seized by a hangover from Snowpocalypse 2.0; the roads were jammed, the metro was still packed, freeze-dried. The main attraction was late, and journalists mulled around outside, the tip-tap of blackberries peeking over the sounds of temperate guests, who checked in silently, no doubt irritated with whatever method of transportation they had used to arrive.
Burly bouncers guarded the entranceway – no, it didn’t matter how old you looked, you needed ID. You were, after all, “Bowling With Mitt”.
His car was stuck in traffic, but for now the donors were placated by an equally attractive candidate for attention. Senator Scott Brown had arrived, and was immediately mobbed by fans waiting outside – political groupies who had heard about the event but didn’t have the means to pay the $150 entrance fee.
Brown wore a plain brown sweater and khakis – the fashion equivalent of his pickup truck. The Washington Wizards were playing next door, and it looked like he had just come from one of Verizon Center’s nosebleed sections.
The upper chamber’s newest member walked stiffly, like he had just carried a bunch of bricks on his back from the Capitol. He didn’t look casual the way politicians usually look casual – you know, the played formal shirt and jeans get-up – Brown actually looked ‘Middle America’. He walked Middle America.
“NO MC COLORS,” continued the blaring sign. “It means motorcycle colors,” explained the bouncer. “Red, blue, purple, green, you know, gang colors. Bandanas worn a certain way. Crips, bloods, so on.”
“Oh,” I muttered. Romney’s main street bona fides were clearly getting a boost from this event.
“NO WHITE SHIRTS,” finished the list outside, apparently because white shirts and black lights don’t mix. This disco-themed bowling alley would not admit bowlers with plain white shirts.
Mitt Romney finally arrived, in a glaring white shirt and jeans.
He shook the bouncer’s hand, and ambled in. We hiked in after him – “He’s here!” cried an attendee.
I bump into an old friend. It’s Ash Wednesday, and he has a mark on his forehead. “For a Massachusetts fundraiser, I’m not seeing many ashes,” he lamented. “And I thought Massachusetts was a Catholic state!”
I slip past to get a look at the Brown-Romney interaction. “I hope I look like you when I’m your age,” joked Senator Brown upon spotting the former Massachusetts Governor. The affection is palpable – Brown owes his fame and coming fortune to this man.
The governor wastes no time getting down to business. The bright camera lights cancel out the glow of his white shirt under black lights, removing any potential Jesus-glow. First item on the agenda: he had been assaulted by an airline traveler in coach after leaving the Vancouver Olympics. “Last time I practice my stump speech on an airplane,” Romney chuckled, to the pleasure of the crowd.
Then comes the actual stump speech, and what clearly emerges as Romney’s coming theme: pioneering. America is a land of pioneers, where pioneers settled and innovators thrived, he says. They came to this pioneering land for a land of opportunity, not a land of welfare. America is free: a pioneering land.
And that was that – the bowling was set to start, but not before the governor had his chance to show off some skills. Cameras flash and wiggle around him. Disorienting to any normal bowler, but impetus for this one.
On his first frame, the crowd goes deathly silent, as if in deference to the ball. STRIKE. The crowd goes wild. High fives are exchanged. He grins – he wants to quit while he’s ahead. “I’m finished!"
Romney mingles with the crowd - someone had finally found him a blue bowler shirt to keep him from glowing. For an event where American freedom was stressed, the bowling alley did have a lot of draconian rules.
The donors settle down to their chicken fingers and fried coconut shrimp, and the event slowly fizzles out as the night wears on. Brown leaves after ten minutes, Romney after a couple of frames, some hand shaking and a few pictures.
Anyone who is anxious about the coming Romney candidacy can rest assured. At the very least, Mitt Romney is an excellent bowler.