Over the weekend Mrs. Gelding and I went down to Des Moines, the capitol and erstwhile cultural center of this fair State. We took ourselves and our kid and her buddy to see Mama Mia, the Abba revival musical. It was OK, a little loud, but OK. During the Disco era we were busy having kids, trying to establish a business, pay the mortgage and all that so we did not connect to the music as much as others.
But there was something pretty telling at the performance. We arrived early since Mrs. G thinks that being early is better than being on time. We are quietly sitting there waiting for the show to start and watching the other people wander in. As we do this the daughter turns to me and says “There is the Governor.” I look, and there four or five rows ahead of us is the Governor and his wife, all by themselves as far as I can tell. They sit down. A few people say hello. That’s it. There is the Gov. Sitting in the middle of the audience. No body guards. No private box. No nothing.
Ain’t this a great country? Alert Stage Orange or not, the chief elected officer of the State is just out for a night of light entertainment and people let him do just that. On the way out we bumped elbows–we both said excuse me and that’s it. If was like Harry Truman taking a walk.