Taking John Waters to Task for Backlash Against Honfest

Once a year, the Hons take center stage here in Baltimore. Hampden, to be precise, home of the Miracle on 34th Street," is also Hon capital of the world. Hon ground zero, if you will. The annual Honfest hit the ground running this past weekend and attendant fireworks didn't disappoint.

But before we get to the persnickety controversy, let's get one thing straight. The celebration of Hons is a time honored tradition in these quirky parts, a dubious distinction Baltimoreans proudly wear on their sleeves.

This Baltimoron is no expert on Hons, having grown up in the vicinity of the now mammoth Sinai Hospital complex and world famous Pimlico Racetrack, later becoming a faceless mass in the white flight to suburbia, but I do know a thing or two about visceral affiliation with hometown identity. Los Angeles is inextricably linked with all things Hollywood, Wisconsin with cheese, San Francisco with streetcars and the Golden Gate Bridge, Detroit with Motown, Washington D.C. with the business of politics, and Baltimore with hons and crabs.

Is that a faux pas? I'm just speaking from the heart, hon.

No, seriously now, the distinctive accent, fixation with spirited birds, crab a la everything, Nipper the phonograph dog, Natty Boh, marble steps, Bromo Seltzer Tower, Preakness, and Honfest distinguish Baltimore from its more tony neighbor down I-95, although as far as the cartographers are concerned we might as well be one and the same. Ever notice how Washington, D.C. is prominently featured on every map and Atlas but Baltimore barely cuts the grade? Do you have any idea what it's like to live in a town with a combined population approaching two million (Baltimore City and Baltimore County are governed by different municipalities but are essentially the same area) and forever be lumped into the same locale as a place that couldn't be more different if its survival depended on it?

Yes, I'm talking about D.C. Twin cities we are not. Siamese twin polar opposites is more like it.

Just like the Preakness and pro sports teams named after birds, Honfest is uniquely Baltimore. The history of Hons, so I'm told, began with the hard-working woman of World War II. When the GIs returned, these enterprising young ladies continued to work. Hey, Baltimore is not a town of Ritz. I imagine back then money was just as tight as it is now. These second incomes helped support an upwardly mobile but modest lifestyle during the boomer age. You can't fault women for wanting better lives for their families.

As the story goes, women didn't work in executive positions, they took hard scrabble jobs. So on weekends, they liked to get dolled up and party. And Baltimore being the kitschy town that it was (and is), dolled up meant tight outfits, massive jewelry, appalling makeup, and hair piled high to the sky. Think New Jersey south of the Mason-Dixon. Beehive hairdos were all the rage and nobody wore them better than east side Baltimore. The higher, bigger, shinier, and stiffer, the better. Believe me when I say John Waters didn't have to think long and hard when he thought up the title to Hairspray.

More about dear John later.

Anyway, these dolled up, tight laced, beehive wearing, red lipped, smoking ladies eventually became known as Hons. It must have something to do with the way Baltimoreans talk because I remember being called Hon quite a bit on the streets in and around the racetrack. Even now when I venture to the Inner Harbor some gum cracking waitress will shout out a Hon or two. A term of endearment really, just an abbreviated "honey" with the glory of Baltimore "OH" lovingly wrapped inside.

Ever been to a sporting event with Baltimoreans and notice how they scream in unison "OH" when they get to the "Oh say can you see" part of the Star Spangled Banner? It's all connected I'm telling you, in an Oriole birds and "dem O's" quirky kind of way.

When Baltimore's Hampden neighborhood decided to reinvent itself as the suburbs of City rather than a dingy mill section of town, Mom and Pop businesses moved in like crazy. Today, a stroll down The Avenue is like walking around New York's TriBeCa, there are so many unusual shops and restaurants to see. Not to mention a liberal dose of second-hand store gold mines. Hampden is one of a kind because it's uniquely Baltimore, much like Fells Point but without the water.

Some time ago, CafeHon -- the jewel of Hampden -- began a one day neighborhood gathering to celebrate Baltimore fashion and culture, affectionately christened Honfest for those who dare to be kitsch. The annual event has since morphed into a two-day festival with an anything goes mentality, many abandoning all form of reason in their quest to become Hon chic. These people have their hair done in beehives, wear obnoxiously loud clothing and stilettos, don so much makeup they look like Kelly Osborne on Halloween, and enter Hon competitions for the chance to be crowned "Miss Baltimore Hon."

I know. I know. It sounds like an Iowa corn festival and maybe in some respects it is. Baltimore is a big city comprised of little neighborhoods. There really is a hometown feel, an indescribable slice of life you can't get anywhere else on this planet. Honfest has the potential to transform into a monumental party on the same scale as today's Mardi Gras (but definitely NOT Mardi Gras before Katrina -- that would be stretching the build up too far).

Okay. I've done my best to describe Hons and Honfest. Now we get to dear John. Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan, a huge fan of John Waters, his brand of entertainment, and his take on life. If it weren't for Waters, Edith Massey would never have become "The Egg Lady," there'd be no such thing as front lawns decorated with pink flamingos, and Divine would have been just another drunken whore stripping for tips down on The Block. Waters savored these seedier spawns of Baltimore and in doing so made them mainstream. The magnitude of his success is a little shocking considering his film making origins. I mean honestly, back in the 1960s, he was the probably the first person to film a transsexual devouring dog crap. Steaming dog crap. With a hint of lemon.

As a native Baltimoron who wears her Honness as a badge of honor, I have no qualms taking Waters to task for his recent statements against Honfest. For the record, he lambasted the celebration saying the Hon image was so overused he would no longer utter the word or use the idea in any of his scripts. Not only that, he urged the City of Baltimore to stop supporting the event, claiming people who now participate do so to denigrate Hons.

Yup. The native son and one who paved the road for unbridled madness now turns his back on the monster of Honfest, professing lack of authenticity mars the luster. Reminds me of Dr. Frankenstein and monster remorse, although in that story the monster tried to kill anything in its path and wreak mayhem.

In contrast, Honfest is a harmless lovable fuzzball, a chance to bond with homegrowns giving Baltimore a distinct flavor separate and apart from that political metropolis down I-95. The fact that the idea caught fire with so many out of towners is all the more reason to revel in all things Hon, don't you think? Waters really missed the mark and that's a low down dirty rotten shame.

Seriously, hon, we're talking two days. Two days of blissful merriment and bustling business for tiny Hampden. Waz all de fuss har?

Carnival of Maryland Highlights The Maryland Bloggers Alliance

Welcome to a special edition of The Spewker on behalf of The Carnival of Maryland. Today we present hot commentary from The Maryland Bloggers Alliance, a loosely knit but jovial group of attuned and outspoken Marylanders, as well as other bloggers from in and about the area.

Bloggers of the Alliance hail from the political spectrum, from Anarchists to Libertarians, although some are just as actively involved in other pursuits. For some reason, I've always envisioned Anarchy as an extreme of the left and Libertarianism as an extreme of the right, but now that I think about it, they both advocate pretty much the same thing. Which is exactly why the Alliance works so well. See, we really can all get along.

As far as the Carnival goes, just one common denominator: we all inhabit the Land of Pleasant Living. For a popular group of bloggers, it's nice to know that's the only requirement for a place at the table.


Lifestyle Report
I'm clueless when it comes to birds. Not so at The Greenbelt. A touching and informative tale about an afternoon hunt of an otherwise elusive creature of the wild.

Raymond from Money Blue Book ponders a question he heard on the radio. "Would You Give Up Your Right to Vote for a Million Dollars?" is a cynical yet comical article about the average American mindset and personal desire.

The author of Creating a Jubilee County blogs about the perils of TMJ and what everyone should know about it. Ouch UU Mom, my jaw hurts.


Senseless Crime
From Children & Chocolate comes an insider's perspective of the horrific Browning murders, a hometown tragedy that's been terrifying parents across the nation, nay the world. "Prayer Request for Nicholas Browning" by Laura Knight Beutler may hit a little too close to home for parents of some teenagers but is well worth the read.


Be A Sport
Soccer Dad fumes at Orioles management in "Bedard to seattle!?" I can relate. "I thought this would be done by now, given that it was first announced almost 2 weeks ago," David laments. "Chalk it up to having a passive aggressive front office. As Bill Ordine writes, 'Not since Generalissimo Franco died did anything so apparently inevitable take so long to happen.'" I couldn't have said it better myself.


Sorry State of Maryland
Maryland schools are rated top notch in the country, but some continue to fail. About a week ago, Annapolis police arrested students protesting Governor O'Malley's failure to adequately fund the public school systems. A lot of politics going on and not many solutions in "Baltimore Schools to Pay Students." Going to the Mat analyzes a problem solving proposal that's been relentlessly criticized in the media.

NRA advocates beware. Your rights are being endangered by none other than the very unpopular Martin O'Omalley, and according to blogger 1947, the embattled Maryland governor should rot in hell. Stan sternly warns, "Any Maryland gun owner who says s/he is not political had better damned soon BECOME political before it's too late." No problem, Stan, sure, just as soon as you lay down that gun. Thanks.


The National Scene
Michael Swartz adds his voice to the din of Republicans blasting local party politics. Incumbent Wayne Gilchrest is locked in a tight three-way race in the First Congressional District and in "Big Money on More than One Side," Monoblogue presents the eight hundred pound gorilla in the room with apologies to Democrats in the Fourth.

Not trying to be cruel, but the Maryland Chesapeake Blog may have opined too late in "It's Time Pastor, It's Time..." I understand Republicans are disillusioned, but there's only three presidential candidates left to choose from this Tuesday and one of them is not Mitt Romney. I say, choose Chester Peake, choose.

Last but not least, on the lighter side, an article from The Spewker continues to attract attention. Check out "Celebrity Presidential Endorsements on Parade" for a comical view of the original top presidential contenders and their Hollywood entourages.


That concludes this edition of the Carnival of Maryland. Submit your blog article to the next edition of Carnival of Maryland using our carnival submission form. Past posts and future hosts can be found on our blog carnival index page.

Tags: carnival of maryland, blog carnival.

Thick Political Atmosphere Attributable to Impending Iowa Caucuses

Sometimes, it’s hard to know which hat to wear. A leather cowboy or Hawaiian straw. A green beret or corduroy newsboy. A political analyst or celebrity sleaze. Let the brouhaha begin.

Every day, we straddle the thin line between politics and celebrities because it is there. We dare to go where nary another blog has ventured before. Some have tried, but most have thrown their hands up in humiliating defeat. Their failure will be our triumph. We’re focused on the brass ring, the holy grail of niches. We’re determined to bring it home.

Hope you enjoyed that slaphappy soliloquy because it’s an earnest attempt at humor. In my humble opinion, even bad humor is better than no humor at all.

We know most of our visitors drop by for the latest celebrity smut. Our problem is we sometimes like to be taken seriously, so we post semi-intellectual musings about matters of practical concern. When we pen about politics, we probably alienate the bulk of our visitors, and vice-versa, when we post a column about celebrities, our politically minded readers probably take a hike. It’s the price we pay for trying to combine the two, but that’s who we are. It’s also who we hope our readers will eventually come to love and embrace.

I just had to get that off my chest before attacking today’s topic, however, I am now so nauseated by my own attempt at wittiness, I must forage ahead.

If you haven’t already guessed, I'm feeling consumed by politics. Had could I not? The political postulating is so thick you could spread it on a bagel. It’s Iowa caucuses time, baby. Can you say "Eyes of America"?

I love how this election finally shaped up to be a horse race. Today, the average woman/man on the street isn’t quite certain how his/her vote will be cast. All eyes are on Iowa, New Hampshire, and South Carolina.

I look back fondly to November when the conventional wisdom of fellow BlogWorld participants resignedly reaffirmed a Clinton coronation. Hardly anyone agreed Mrs. Clinton is presidential material, mind you, they simply bowed to the collective conjecture of the talking heads. In fact, some who attended BlogWorld are the talking heads. Talking heads "you’d like to engage in amiable conversation but are too busy to be bothered because they think you’re a nobody" talking heads.

How I'd relish looking them in the eye right this very moment. I'd chuckle, saying, “Told you so. Told you so. Nah nah nah nah boo boo.” Immature, certainly, but highly gratifying.

Collective wisdom is a precarious commodity. It can change on a dime. If enough people say something long enough, loud enough, and strong enough, they have a shot at making it so. Through the power of the Internet, I took my shot. I’d like to think I played a bit part in knocking Hillary off her high perch, although, one never knows, does one? Only time will tell.

Yes, I dislike Hillary as a person and for her politics. I live in a state that’s the model for Hillary’s America, the model for most if not all of the Democratic candidates, really. It’s the model for my own choice in the primaries, Chris Dodd, which I suppose makes me look like a hypocrite, but the alternatives are just as bad or worse. I rationalize by saying he comes packaged with some enviable foreign policy and economic expertise. Hillary, on the other hand, would be a complete and utter disaster. My hope is, if nominated, Dodd will gravitate to the center as most savvy presidential candidates do. If so, I believe he will be a formidable contender in the general election.

Democrats have been fooled before. Governor Martin O’Malley is in the process of turning Maryland into a welfare state. Business and industry are on the decline, the population is leaving in droves, and the middle class is about to be taxed out of existence. Soon, there won’t be enough of a tax base to fund Martin's grandiose welfare plans. Schools are suffering. Crime has gotten worse. Do I sound fatalistic? Remember, I’m only the messenger.

What? Too sobering?

(cut to commercial)



(back to my Maryland lament)

A Johnny-come-lately Republican challenge to the biggest tax increase in state history is now wending its way through the courts. These antics are a futile waste of time. Those pansies had their chance to stop the madness during Martin’s special session. A pox on them and the entrenched Democratic leadership. The whole lot of them should be thrown out of the General Assembly on their ears.

I don't want America to suffer the same fate as Maryland. Increased taxes, pork projects, government funded assistance, and big government are the harbingers of demise. Tax and spend does not work in a capitalist society. Never has. Never will.

Capitalism thrives when people have the incentive, motivation, and dedication to become the best. With sweat equity, ingenuity, and ability, anyone can become an American success story. That’s the promise, the dream, and the reason America is the envy and disgust of the free world. Yes, they hate us. Is anyone surprised?

Strip those ingredients away, tax the middle class until they become the nouveau poor, increase government handouts, and what you’ll have left is a recipe for socialism. Slowly, slowly, life as Americans live now will crumble away. The wealthy will park their money elsewhere, maybe visit from time to time, but they will slowly fade away. Knowing more than half their income will fund government, future generations will have little incentive to produce wealth. All that will be left is the mediocre and barely palatable. That may be good enough for some, but not for me.

Besides, if certain Americans want to live in socialist republics, why not move to England or France? I hear the citizenry is quite happy with their regimes. In return, their regimes are quite happy to change diapers, no questions asked.

Maryland Special Session - O'Malley Plays to the Choir

THE FAMILY TENORS
A three act play depicting inter-party dynamics in the Maryland General Assembly.

Act I, Scene III:
Mood:
Democratic Governor Martin "Tony Tenor" O’Malley ran on a platform of tax and spend. Amazingly enough, the voters didn’t seem to mind.

Special Session. Day three. In this last scene of Act I, all eyes are upon Annapolis. Protestors rally outside the State House demanding accountability while Tenor and his cronies bunker down inside. Their mission: to fund proposed budget increases specifically designed to turn the Free State into the “Flee State.” At stake: the ability to borrow at negligible interest rates, to attract private sector business, and to keep the wealthier sectors of the population from migrating en masse.

Setting:
State House office of Senator Bobby "Bobby Baklava" Zirkin, heir apparent to the throne (Bobby is being groomed to take over for Tony when the time comes for his final political ascent to the White House). The legislature is bracing for a turf war. Senator Nathaniel "Paulie Peanuts" McFadden and his capos, Senator Lisa "Salvio Dante" Gladden, and Baklava are railing against rival power monger, Comptroller Peter "Johnny Sacrimonious" Franchot, prime target numero uno for supporting the Chamber of Commerce position demanding fiscal restraint. Johnny’s capo, Senator Jim "Jimbo Leotardo" Brochin fired the first shot by derailing a committee report favoring tax increases with a pre-planned filibuster. Fading waves of Jimbo reading from Gone With the Wind can be heard in the background.

(Sal and Paulie storm through the stage door office with Bobby close behind. Bobby slams the door on a freckle-faced page who has trailed them down the hallway and tried to follow them inside. Bobby plops into his seat behind the desk. Sal and Paulie rest their weary hides on the desk edges)

Sal: Did I tell you what a no good dirty rotten weasel that Jimbo is. Turning his back on the family and breaking rank. It’s a disgrace I tell you, an utter disgrace.

Paulie: Tony’s gonna be plenty pissed, that’s for sure. What're we gonna do about this, Bobby?

Bobby (looking distressed): I don’t know, Paulie. I don’t know (begins tapping fingers). Without massive increases in state services, Tony’s a goner. I mean, who’s gonna vote for that clown in 2010 if the legislature doesn’t expand existing government programs and fund services traditionally paid for by the private sector?

Paulie: You mean who else besides people making minimum wage and illegal immigrants?

Bobby (glaring at Paulie): Shaddup, you yutz! Of course that’s what I mean. That filibuster is threatening this whole family’s re-election.

Sal: We’ve just gotta tax the rich and upper middle class out of existence. It’s our only hope for survival.

Bobby: Jimbo must be stopped. But how….

Paulie: I could surreptitiously let the air outta his tires. When he tries to drive back to his hotel tonight, boy, will he be surprised.

Bobby: Dumbkoff! You of all people should know he’ll only get a few hours sleep. Probably'll sack out in his office. You’ll have to do a lot better than that if you want to continue trading pork with me.

Sal: Wait a minute. Don’t you and Jimbo belong to the same temple? Couldn’t you concoct some kinda ruse like an emergency prayer meeting, say something like Israel being nuked by Iran?

Bobby: Oh, and now we all look alike and pray at the same place, huh? That’s cold, Sal, real cold.

(Just then, Tony bursts into the room and immediately slams the door. The three cronies jump to attention. Bobby vacates his seat in deference to the boss. Tony doesn’t have to be invited to sit down)

Bobby: Tony!

Paulie: Hey, Tone.

Sal: Tony. Am I glad you’re here. We’re sinking fast. We’re gonna be sleeping with the schaefers.

Bobby (very conciliatory): You have to understand, Tony, I had no idea Jimbo was gonna break rank. You’ve got to believe me. I did everything I could to muscle him into line. That sucker looked me straight in the eye and even said he didn’t care if the family ran someone against him in the next election…

Tony (breaking in): You mean like the Republicans are pulling in district one?

Bobby (pointing his index finger at Tony): Exactly, chief. (Seeming slightly relieved) Didn’t care a lick. Said he was going forward with the impasse because he loves this state and the people of Maryland and didn’t want to see all the good of our predecessors flushed down the toilet.

Tony (with a crooked smile): He said that?

Bobby (crosses his hand to his heart): On my bubby’s brisket.

Tony (shaking his head musing): He really said that? I can’t believe he actually said that. How dare he give that rival crew any credit (Getting a tough looking stance on his face). Well, I’ll show Benedict Arnold what happens to rats who jump ship. If he thinks we’re all just going to sit back and let those elite sacks of suck have their way with us, they are in for one rude awakening. Poor bastards. They don’t even know who they’re messing with.

Paulie (looking very confused): Who are they messing with, Tone? I thought they were messing with us?

Tony: That’s why I get paid the big bucks and you are just a peon. Oh, Paulie. Ye of alabaster eyes gleaming undimmed by human tears. Those idiots aren’t just messing with us. They’re messing with her!

(Bobby and Sal gasp and cover their mouths simultaneously)
Paulie: Her?

Sal: Not her, Tony. You can’t mean her.

Bobby: You mean, “She Who Shall Not Be Named?”

Tony (jumping out of the chair and buttoning jacket): That’s exactly who I mean, Sal.

(Paulie continues to look baffled).
Tony: She’s looking to our tiny blue state as a role model for socialized government. You realize, of course, I took the lead in publicly support her campaign for President.

Paulie (suddenly getting it): Oh….

Tony: That’s right. And if this hurry up and decide gamble of mine doesn’t put the screws on those pansies to hike the sales tax, individual and corporate income tax and transfer tax, gouge those rich MoCo’s for every cent we can shake, expand free health care, and stick the voters with slots, well…all I can say is…heads are gonna roll (pause)...lliterally.

(Complete tangible silence. Paulie gulps, wide-eyed)
Paulie: I like my head right where it is.

Bobby: So, if I’m hearing you correctly, Tony, what I think you’re saying is, if we want to nip this problem in the bud, we’d better get our butts back out on that floor.

Tony: Not exactly, Bobby, it’s a bit more complicated than that. But if I waste any more time explaining how to twist arms to you lamebrains, Moonshine Mike might defect to the other side. Just follow me, quickly. Do what I say and do as I do. And don’t any of you open your fat mouths, you got that?

(All nod like sheep and fall in line behind Tony strutting toward the exit. As the stage door opens, each one passes the freckle-faced page who is still standing on the other side in the hallway. Fearing possible retaliation, the page’s head faces straight down to avoid possible eye contact)

(Curtain)

Magna Move Foreshadows End of Maryland Preakness

While the blowhards down in Annapolis are busy examining bigger and better ways to gouge Marylanders out of their hard earned dollars, a far more serious matter has reared its ugly pock-marked head.

Um, Mr. O’Malley, I realize this whole tax and spend thing has you and your cronies deliriously giddy with thoughts of government subsidies dancing in your heads, but could you please take a good hard look at this development? A devastating storm is brewing on the horizon.

I’m referring to Magna Entertainment Corporation’s recent announcement of its decision to acquire all outstanding shares of the Maryland Jockey Club. This business essentially controls the Maryland horse racing industry. Since the inception of its "plug in a leaky bucket" deal with the DeFrancis family, former Maryland Jockey Club majority owners, Magna reserved the option for complete control of the business. Now, when it is apparently most cash-strapped, it will exercise that option, a move most certain to heap even more red paper on the Canadian conglomerate.

Is anyone else scratching their heads thinking what's wrong with this picture?”

Marylanders have the shortest memories in history. Only two slight years ago the Annapolis pols were jumping up and down screaming, “Pass the slots bill or risk losing the Preakness!” Slots died in committee, Governor Ehrlich lost his bid for re-election, the Dems had a big group hug, then everyone went home for coffee and donuts. Now the O’Malley camp is rumbling about a special session to balance the state budget and the citizenry is grumbling over the hole in their pocketbooks.

People! Pay attention. You’ve lost focus. The timing of this Magna announcement is a very big deal. Can’t anyone else see the clouds of a perfect storm?

If Magna looks crazy on paper, I say the company is crazy like a fox. Call me crazy, but the coming and going of this announcement with very little fanfare leaves me baffled.

Maryland racetracks have been and continue to hemorrhage money hands over fists. They cannot compete with racing purses offered by neighboring states who have long seen the wisdom of bringing slots to the masses. These gambling parlors are traditionally combined with existing betting tracks, allowing neighboring states to offer fatter racing purses. With the high moral ground continuing to oppose legalized gambling in Maryland, our horse racing industry, a once glorious way of life and source of revenue, is all but certain to die. With the death of the industry, so too will come the razing of our racetracks.

How soon we Marylanders forget a nefarious move perpetrated under cover of darkness resulting in the loss of our beloved football team, the Baltimore Colts. Once Magna obtains complete control over the Maryland Jockey Club, what’s to stop it from shutting down Pimlico and doing the same thing with our beloved Preakness?

The Preakness, people! Baltimore’s own little Mardi Gras. A tried and true traditional excuse to party. Weeklong events have been built around this baby. Make no mistake, as outright owner of the corporation controlling Pimlico racetrack, Magna could and likely will move the Second Jewel in the Triple Crown to another venue.

Unless those tax and spend animals down in Annapolis start quickly putting together these puzzle pieces and legislate a way to claim Preakness as the property of Maryland, I’d say all bets are off.

Maryland Needs a Little Turkey in the Straw Poll

A recent GOP treasury report indicates Maryland's Republican Party is clinging to life support, its coffers dwindling toward bankruptcy. Apparently, their annual Red White and Blue Dinner didn’t produce necessary funding.

Don’t tell me the minority party pins its financial stability on one annual fundraiser?! No wonder Maryland is dominated by Democrats.

Time for those folks down on Church Circle to study their well endowed brethren in the Hawkeye State. Even with a pitiful turnout of 14,302 (compared to 23,685 in 1999, not to mention the Iowa State Fair same day attendance of 98,207), pundits anticipate last Saturday's straw poll raising about a million smackers for GOP breadbaskets. Not bad for a one day haul on the picturesque grounds of Iowa State. Since 1978, this “political state fair for Republicans” has become the first litmus test measuring campaign strength, organizational abilities, and momentum building of GOP candidates. What more could a state party desire?

Let’s start with top-tiered candidates paying the per person $35.00 admission fee. Not exactly vote buying -- participants are free to vote for the candidate of their choice -- but a pretty hefty price to ensure supporter turnout. That alone could put Maryland Republicans in the black.

Reminds me of these gobs of grease. Freebies littered the straw poll like wads of paper surrounding public waste baskets. Like a big fat butter sculpture in a spraying tent set in front of the University’s Hilton Coliseum, wrapped in free yellow t-shirts, handing out free barbeque from local smoke pits, under a colossal-sized tent with its own performance stage, within eyesight of a free climbing wall and inflatable children’s slide, with a free bus ride to and from the event ... um.... wait a minute. That was Mitt Romney’s campaign. Romney finished first with about 31.6% of all votes cast. Quelle surprise.

Hilton Coliseum is home to each candidate's mock nominating convention. They rally inside, attempting to whip supporters into a political frenzy. Ritzy tent locations like the ones erected closest to the Coliseum run $25,000.00 per, while less desirable spots cost as much as $15,000.00. Now that’s a lot of butter!

Personally, I think former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani, actor and former Tennessee Senator Fred Thompson, and Arizona Senator John McCain were wise to skip the event. As the only candidates whose family values wouldn’t pass muster with social and religious conservatives, their financial resources could be better spent. Predictably, Thompson’s absence didn’t stop FredHeads from setting up shop. Despite his undeclared status, Thompson garnered 29 more votes than participating candidate Congressman Duncan Hunter.

Earth to Hunter. When you're beaten by a guy who isn’t even sure he’s going to run, it's time to throw in the towel. Give it up while you can still use the money to campaign for re-election. Ditto, businessman John Cox. Three other candidates who didn’t pay for a tent, a snow cone machine, or admission tickets finished ahead of you. Time to purchase that one-way ticket back to Chicago. At least former Wisconsin Governor and U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services Tommy Thompson got the message, admitted defeat, and moved on. Cheer up, Tommy. Senior law partners still have appeal and look great in briefs.

For what it’s worth, here’s how Iowa's non-binding straw poll separated the men from the boys:

1. Mitt Romney – 4,516 votes
2. Mike Huckabee – 2,587 votes
3. Kansas Senator Sam Brownback – 2,192 votes
4. Colorado Congressman Tom Tancredo – 1,961 votes
5. Texas Congressman Ron Paul – 1,305 votes
6. Tommy Thompson – 1,039 votes
7. Fred Thompson – 203 votes
8. Rudy Giuliani – 183 votes
9. Duncan Hunter – 174 votes
10. John McCain – 101 votes
11. John Cox – 41 votes

In keeping with his Baptist minister roots, Huckabee likened his second place finish to a parable from the New Testament. More likely, the Elvis impersonator rallied Huckabee's support. Rock star appeal is the theme of Election 2008. I'll bet Iowans were also smitten by Huckabee playing bass guitar. As for Tancredo and Paul, those are the real stories. Too bad the national news media didn't give either candidate much attention.

Traditional pundits say the straw poll didn't amount to a hill of beans. Less than 2.5% of active Republicans participated. That’s a huge gap from the number anticipated at Iowa's winter caucuses. According to Dennis Goldford, political science professor at Drake University, "68% of those who voted wanted someone other than Romney, even if they didn’t participate in the event." Stressing the lack of participation by Giuliani, Fred Thompson, and McCain while factoring Romney’s campaign spending along with the amount of family stumping, Romney's win was a Pyrrhic victory. But pundits fail to acknowledge the event's fundraising caliber. It's a clear winner for Republicans. A piece of fat to chew on and that's no beef.

Getting back to Maryland, I'd hate to see the Republican Party tank before 2011. Now that the District of Columbia has scheduled a January primary, there’s nothing stopping Maryland Republicans from planning a summer straw poll of their own. University of Maryland's Comcast Center would be the perfect venue. With its "Fear the Turtle" centerpiece positioned outside, Republicans could easily imbue a Maryland straw poll with an electric competitive vibe.

I hope someone is listening. Especially since the Party's annual Red White and Blue Dinner left their cupboards practically bare.

politics, celebrities