Like most of the merchandise in Kelly Steele’s booth, the Romney bling was American-made. The $30 “I [heart] Mitt” pin had been bedazzled in Mississippi. “We don’t sell any of that Chinese stuff,” she says. Elsewhere in the exhibition hall, a Ronald Reagan in Ray-Bans strummed an electric guitar; two women sold copper and silver in anticipation of the dollar’s collapse; and the 2011 Miss North East Texas, in a tiara and high heels, sang, “You’ll be in my heart.” This was the 2012 Texas GOP State Convention.
Committee meetings began on Monday, but yesterday Republican delegates from across the state trekked to the Fort Worth Convention Center to attend the first general session. In the parking lot, bumper stickers declared allegiance to Ted Cruz and Ron Paul, and delegates huddled under umbrellas, sprightly and good-humored despite the rain. They wore suits and dresses and short-sleeved shirts patterned with flags and eagles and words from the Declaration of Independence. Some older men wore caps that read, “Veteran”; others wore hats shaped like elephants.
Rick Perry delivered the session’s keynote address, speaking about the greatness of Texas and the ineptitude of the Obama administration. Greg Abbott followed the governor and echoed much of his message (“My job is pretty simple: I go into the office, I sue the federal government, and then I go home”). Later in the day, Ron Paul griped about Keynesian economics.
The dignitaries spoke at considerable length — Paul for nearly an hour. Pithier were the bumper stickers and t-shirts displayed in booths at the exhibition hall: “Democrats: sort of like zombies but with no interest in brains,” read one. “Save a tree — eat a beaver,” went another. “An armed man is a citizen. An unarmed man is a subject,” a third declared. (Also for sale: “Knock-knock. Who’s there? Kenya. Kenya? Kenya show me your birth certificate?” and, “In all of the 1950s, less than 50 black men were lynched by the Ku Klux Klan. Since 1973, 14 million black children have been killed at abortion clinics.”)
Rena Pendan, exhibits coordinator for the State Republican Executive Committee, says the price tag for a booth at the convention ranged from $1,000 to $6,000. Senatorial hopeful David Dewhurst pitched a booth, as did Ted Cruz and 11 Tea Parties from across the state, but some 30 stands belonged to vendors.
Behind the Patriotic Shop (which sold things like freedom-themed playing cards, and a $83.95 shirt-and-cardigan combo adorned with sequin elephants), two saleswomen peddled Boresha, “the world’s only fat-burning coffee and tea.” Down the aisle, All Pro Classics held a silent auction of sports memorabilia, including a football signed by Tim Tebow and a Michael Young uniform that still had dirt caked on its pants. A booth for conservative children’s books sold titles like Patriotic Pups and Freedom Bees and Patriot and Friends: Fair and Square, whose plotline revolves around a group of animals and their misguided attempt to redistribute a peacock’s feathers.
Flag-themed pens were everywhere, as were flag-themed ties, scarves, sunglasses, totes, ice buckets, teapot-shaped earrings, and Christmas tree pendants. One booth sold a red-and-white-and-blue bedazzled clutch purse for $299.95; a flag — of the sort that hangs on a pole — went for $60.
Teo Soares is a D Magazine summer intern. He’ll graduate from Yale in 2013 with a BA and an MA in history.
