What’s a Trump Rally Like?

It’s like a tailgate party without the beer. You’re there to support the team, to cheer, to boo, maybe to dress up in crazy clothes and be around people who are on the same wavelength which provides a satisfying non-alcoholic high. But most importantly, you’re there because the country is in trouble and there’s only one man who can save it.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. There is way too much to tell in one sitting, so here goes: the crowd first, the star of the show later. 

The gathering took place at the utilitarian New England Sports Center in Derry, NH.  The doors opened at twelve, the parking lot at 8 AM and by the time I arrived at noon there was a long serpentine line and a 90-minute wait to the security portal.  The local police were out in force and on the way in I passed several vendors doing a brisk business in Trump memorabilia. 

No one complained about the long wait. It was expected. Looking around in line I saw people of all shapes, sizes, and ages, mostly in hoodies, some long-haired men, a few in pony tails, and a variety of whiskers.  Lots of MAGA caps were in evidence and t-shirts urging us to  “Stand for Freedom” or “Save America.”  Dozens of would-be jurors were proudly wearing their verdict on Trump’s court cases:“Not Guilty!” screamed out at us over that glowering mug shot.    Many were dressed in Republican-red sweatshirts, t-shirts, and a buxom Jezebel had somehow squeezed into a bright-red dress that clung to every bit of her anatomy. One family hustled into line behind me with a pint-sized boy all in red–blazer, pants, and shoes–either skipping school for the big event or homeschoolers eager to witness history. We were entertained by a young bearded man in sunglasses and “We the People” tattooed on his forearm, who paced determinedly around the long lines, carrying an American flag on a pole, boom box strapped to his back blaring old favorites like “Susie Q” and “Let the Sun Shine.” He paused every now and then to whip the flag around before setting off again. He was a man with a mission: “17 laps!!” he yelled at one point and we all applauded.  

Fortunately it was a pleasant fall day, and for those feeling a bit peckish two food trucks were parked within easy reach.  Who knew that Trumpists have such a fine palate?  No burgers and fries for this crowd–one truck was exclusively Thai food (Ka-Pow, Pad Mee) and the other such esoteric offerings as Lavender Lemonade Sushi and Vegan Quinoa Salad.  Six port-a-potties had been thoughtfully arrayed in one corner of the parking lot or who knows what problems the Ka-Pow might have wrought.  Two dog handlers circled a few times with their German shepherds, sniffing for bombs I suppose. About 50 yards away was a black box truck with five guys in camo, just in case.  

 But now I’m in! past the secret service in Kevlar vests.  I got one of the last chairs and estimated about a thousand people seated on the basketball courts with eventually 300 more standing in the back.  A show of hands later on revealed that about half were from out of state.  Two enormous TV screens flanked the dais as John Lennon blared “You Know You Want a Revolution.” Oh yeah! You got that right, John!  A lady wrapped in an Israeli flag took her seat in front of me.   A man in a blue suit with big stars on it, red and white striped tie, and MAGA cap showed people to their seats. Another with Old Glory painted onto his face bustled about, making sure we all got a good look at him. 

Then came the moment we were waiting for.  Stomp-stomp-clap, stomp-stomp-clap. “Buddy you’re a boy, make a big noise” and a 60-year-old man near the front leaps onto his chair facing us, holding his Trump sign aloft, beating time with it to the music and the crowd is on their feet, waving their signs too.  Piercing whistles, war whoops, everyone singing “We will, we will rock you!” as if gay Freddy Mercury who died of AIDS was belting it out just to support Donald Trump and his disciples of the right.  The next song comes on and people are feeling the beat, swaying, bopping, phones up taking videos of the crowd, chanting “USA!” whenever the humor strikes them. It’s a happening! It’s a dance! It’s a party!  This is why we’re here—this is our tribe, we belong to something bigger than ourselves. But not everyone is in party mode.  Some just sit and watch, and through it all the four 20-year-olds next to me barely look up–they’re too engrossed in their video game.  

At 2 PM a pastor is introduced who in a quaint twang thanked God for freedom and “the blessin’ to live in NH, and for leadin’ the fight for the unborn acrost our land.” Next a veteran led us in the Pledge followed by four ladies singing the national anthem in a tricky arrangement that unfortunately seemed to flummox the altos. The already diminished effect was sabotaged further by men in the audience who thought they needed to sing along, following the principle I recognized from my church days: “if you can’t sing, growl at two octaves below everyone else.” 

But the crowd isn’t particular.  There’s big applause, more chants of USA, waving of signs, then the President of the NH Federation of Republican Women gave a fiery speech: “We’re not the victims the Left wants us to be!” she snarled.   She assured us “They” want to destroy the family unit, emphasize our differences instead of what brings us together (lots of whooping). You’ve had enough, right? (yeah!) You’re sick of the border, sick of the debt, sick of the woke ideas. Freedom of thought is what the Democrats don’t want!  And don’t ever forget:   they want biological males in women’s bathrooms!  The crowd was in complete agreement.

  This peroration was followed by a former state senator who read part of the Gettysburg Address, linking “now we are engaged in a great civil war” to the current assault from the Left who “confuse liberty with hedonism.  There is only one answer!” which a female enthusiast to my left readily supplied, fortissimo:  “Trump!!!” The ex-senator informed us that our constitution only works for a moral and religious people (yep!) So get on your knees and pray!   Well, maybe later.  Now they were on their feet, whoopin’ and hollerin’. 

After a county sheriff ‘s endorsement it was Elvis’s turn on the big screen

We’re trapped in a world
That’s troubled with pain
But as long as a man
Has the strength to dream
He can redeem his soul and fly…

There must be peace and understanding sometime
Strong winds of promise that will blow away the doubt and fear…

And that dream of course is Trumpworld, which it was surprising to learn includes peace and understanding 

I can dream of a better land
Where all my brothers walk hand in hand

—except for perhaps the trans folks and those leftist hedonists.

People rose to their feet and swayed as Elvis crooned. Another veteran spoke, the tension rose anticipating Trump’s entrance.  “We want Trump!” they chanted and now the crowd is really fired up. This must be the moment where Trump appears, but no, for some reason the producers decided we needed to hear the duet “Past the Point of No Return” from the Phantom of the Opera, which seemed to confuse everyone and deflate the mood. Elvis to the rescue!  and the inexorable drumbeat of “Suspicious Minds.”.  A perfect choice about a husband reassuring his wife that rumors of his infidelity are false.  Subtle subtext! Like Elvis, Trump loves us, and we shouldn’t be listening to the falsehoods told about his peccadillos.  

Let’s don’t let a good thing die
When honey, you know I’ve never lied to you

As I watched the crowd moving rhythmically to the drums, many singing along, dressed in their finery, I realized why they believe the election was stolen.  How could Trump not have won?  Look at us here, there are so many of us, here for him, here for each other, here to save America, all in synch, all voting for him, why isn’t he in the White House now? 

He will tell you himself when I write next time…