The Dude Does His Thing at the Bemidji Wool Duds Factory

So I park my red Prius in the driveway of the Beltrami County Transfer Station, where I usually go to feed my garbage to the trash-cruncher. I figure my car may be a target, but I'm surprised to see a grey Prius parked closer to the Woolen Mills factory in the Industrial Park just south of downtown Bemidji. My car is one of hundreds here tonight to see THE FIRST DUDE, who, we suspect, will be talking about how God wants us to keep our guns, women included.

A tiny band of Obama supporters stand bravely visible near a little guy in a glowing yellow pinny waving in traffic to the factory parking lot. "Just go home!" he screams at them between waves. They scream back at him, then continue standing with their Obama signs.

The factory floor is filling up fast. People climb up on mountains of blue, red, yellow and black bobbins used to weave blankets, checkered stiff jackets and flap caps. They climb up on chairs by the rows of sewing machines. They climb up on cafeteria tables, avoiding the salt and pepper shakers.

A retired BSU music professor accompanies the lusty lyrics of "God Bless America" on a SongBank Keyboard, then moves seamlessly on to "Amazing Grace." The music stops. We stand around. Nobody gives a speech. It's 6:45. THE DUDE is 15 minutes late and the crowd is getting restless. Nobody can see the front because of all the bobbins, sewing machines, yellow spirals of electrical cords hanging from the rafters and piles of wool. I spy a colleague of mine who is on sabbatical leave on top of a pile of bobbins taking photos. Everyone looks kind of linty.

I am able to see several lanyards hanging from the upper level, where four or five local reporters are hanging out, including the only Native American I see in the pole barn structure:

"Country First"
"Reform Prosperity Peace"

"Darn, we should have brought McCain signs," shouts a woman wearing a "Women for Palin" button.

Just as I'm about to give up, things start to happen. I hear a voice thanking Bill Batchelder for offering his factory floor for this event. Bill is in tan and orange hunting gear. His dad wears a Bemidji Woolen Mills black and red checked jacket with a machine embroidered white sheep on his back.

I hear bits and pieces of what they say, although I can't see a thing (neither can anyone else, unless they're atop the bobbins):

"Small business owners"
"Bemidji, Minnesota, and Wasilla, Alaska, are a lot alike"
"Protecting our environment. . .using our resources"
"Protecting those who can't protect themselves"

I hear a sweet young female voice. It's the chairperson of the BSU college Republicans. "We may go to college," she says, "but you know what? We're not liberals!" Lots of cheers.

Finally, it's THE DUDE, but WE CAN'T SEE ANYTHING!!!

"American dream"
"It's nice to be in Minnesota. . .my closest friends are from Minnesota"
"Reduced taxes, reduced spending"
"Pork barrel projects"
"Government back to the people"

and his longest sentence:

"I should have asked a few more questions when she joined the PTA!!"

And it's over. Total speaking time? At least 3 minutes.

He's given a wool jacket. I can't tell what color it is because I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING!! It must be too big, because they say they'll give him a smaller one later.

He's given some kind of bobblehead. I can't tell what kind. Nobody can, except the 10 people up front. Why don't they put him on top of a sewing machine table or a pile of bobbins????

He's given several religious pictures from Heartland Christian Academy.

As I scuttle out the door, a comely young woman tries to hand me a brochure. "Do you know Tim Tingelstad?" she asks. I do. He is running for the State Supreme Court. He has a prayer clock on his Website, where the word "God" appears about 50 times.

As I head to my Prius, a couple are walking towards the pole barn. "Is he here yet?" asks the young man.

"He's here and gone," I tell him.

"What the hell?" I hear him say as I return to the trash collection site. It's time to go home.