Why Mittsy? Why Politicize A Disaster?

So, Mittsy and his team, out of "support' for the victims of Hurricane Sandy's marriage to the Frankenstorm, opted to suspend politics for a day or so.

Nice, no?

No. The scheduled rally went on as planned, only with a name change to something entitled "Storm Relief Event."

Nice, no?

No. This past Monday, Mittsy’s peeps were in Dayton, Ohio, preparing to host the candidate the following day. A high school gym was reserved, a stage rented, and a pair of "celebrity guests"—country singer Randy Owen, and NASCAR driver Richard Petty—were booked.

But then communications director Gail Gitcho announced the cancellation of "all events currently scheduled" for Tuesday because of the storm. Gitcho said, in a statement, that the decision to cancel campaign events had been made "out of sensitivity to the millions of Americans in the path of Hurricane Sandy."

So, they decided to use the pre-arranged venue, with the same pre-arranged guests, in a newly arranged effort to appear sensitive to those folks in the eye of the storm. It would be a way for Mittsy to show leadership—and get some news on—without looking like a panderingly desperate candidate.

Nice, no?

No. In Dayton, Mittsy's team of minions worked to "de-politicize" the planned event by removing Romney/Ryan signs and replacing seats with long rows of tables upon which the people of Ohio could donate items to the victims of the Frankenstorm.

Nice, no?

No. While the idea was that Romney supporters--and I question why, almost every day, he even has supporters--to bring hurricane relief supplies to the event, and hand deliver them to Mittsy, who would be waiting at the table with Ohio henchman, Senator Rob Portman. Then, in dramatic style, Mittsy would lead his minions, all weighted down with donations, through the venue where he would oversee the loading of the goods into a rented truck bound for New Jersey.

Nice, no?

No. See, the last minute change from politics to humanitarian effort left some in the campaign concerned that they would end up with an empty truck. So the night before the event, Mittsy's aides went to a local Wal-Mart and spent $5,000 on granola bars, canned food, and diapers to put on display while they waited for donations to come in; this is according to at least one staffer. Mittsy's minions did subsequently confirm that the campaign "did donate supplies to the relief effort."

Let's stop there, because this is where I get pissed off. It was a wonderful thing for the Romney team to spend 5K on relief items; it was a beautiful gesture, when left on its own. But when they spend the money and the pad the table to make it look like Romney supporters have gone all humanitarian, and lie about it, as they apparently lie about most things, I get irate.

As with the attacks in Libya, Mittsy has turned this disaster into a campaign stop, a political ad, for Mittsy Romney. It’s never about the people killed at an embassy, it's about Mittsy. It's never about people who've lost their homes, and lives, it's about Mittsy.

Nice, no?

No. While the campaign did change up Mittsy's speech, from a campaign stump speech to some optimism for those in need, they did allow Randy Owen to perform, though rather than bloviate about a Mittsy presidency, Owen talked about the tornado devastation he saw in Alabama earlier this year.

Nice, no?

No. The entire event was a lie, start to finish. The only thing that changed about the campaign event was the tone, and even that was a lie because Mittsy’s people padded the coffers of hurricane donations, and then trumpeted those very donations:

"We were incredibly pleased with the outpouring of support we received from volunteers and generous contributors from southwest and central Ohio," said Christopher Maloney, Romney's Ohio spokesman, adding, "We’re pleased that Ohio could play a role, albeit a minor one, in the relief effort."

Nice, no? 

No. When reporters arrived at the venue ahead of Mittsy, they were given press badges touting the event as a "victory rally." Now, I can forgive that, a little, because it was a last minute change, but not one member of the "team" saw the hypocrisy of a badge with the word "victory" on it?

And then, as the "victory, er, storm relief" event began, two large projector screens blazed with a 10-minute biographical video about the candidate. A state campaign official blamed "someone from the audiovisual team" for playing the video without the campaign's permission leading many to wonder, Who the f**k is in charge?

It wasn't until Mittsy's motorcade arrived that the screens changed from touting Romney, to displaying Red Cross donation information, and grocery bags stuffed with supplies were piled up in a corner of the gym.

Mittsy, who knows all about devastation--you know, Ann's horse didn't win the gold in London last summer and that had to hurt something fierce--decided to tell his own tale of hardship, like the time he and his classmates were charged with cleaning up a football field covered in garbage:

“The person who was responsible for organizing the effort said, just line up along the yard lines. You go between the goal line and the 10-yard line. And the next person, between 10 and 20, and then just walk through and do your lane. And if everybody cleans their line, why, we’ll be able to get the job done. And so today, we are cleaning one lane, if you will."

Nice, no?

No. How out of touch does one have to be to compare a group of privileged athletes cleaning up the football field at their expensive prep school to people digging out from the worst storm to strike the east coast... EVER!??!!

But that wasn't the height of Mittsy arrogance.

No, even though Romney, dressed down in blue jeans, sleeves rolled up like a Regular Joe The Plumber, walked around the donations table and thanked his supporters for, well, dashing to Wal-Mart, I’m guessing. As many waited to greet Mittsy and declare their undying devotion to the Hollow Man, a volunteer in a Romney/Ryan t-shirt reminded them, “You need a donation to get in line!"

One woman said she'd offered her donation at the front, and was told to, "Just grab something." 

Just.Grab.Something.

Pretend you donated so you can shake the hand of the man whose mind changes more than his shoes. Pretend you care about the people along the east coast so that Mittsy looks good.

Pretend.

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