Every year, Virginia's political movers and shakers felt compelled to trek to the middle of nowhere and eat fish nailed to boards. White male Democrats would anoint the next governor. Then they allowed blacks in. Then they allowed women in. Soon, it became a festival of all things state politics, and the shad had to be imported from North Carolina.
That is a short history of The Shad Planking.
The 58th Annual Shad Planking rolled around, and I was driven by none other than Ben Tribbett himself, who, in a first for Virginia bloggers, was bestowed the honor of being needled in a Shad Planking speech! "I believe I am the only statewide official," McDonnell noted, "that has spoken to Larry Sabato and Not Larry Sabato in the same day." The half of the audience familiar with the blogs roared with some of the loudest applause seen all day. The troglodytes who didn't get it...didn't get it.
A major, major step has been taken by the Virginia blogoshpere--now we are big enough to have one of our own needled at the Shad Planking.
I must have passed some form of Virginia initiation rite, attending my first Wakefield Ruritan Club Shad Planking (Bob Gibson of the Daily Progress felt compelled to ask me about this. I told him that the shad isn't neccesarily too exotic...I'm Asian. When I see fish, it's best to eat first and ask later.)
It was a couple of hours driving down from Fairfax County. As we turned onto Route 460, traveling through endless miles of peanut farms, Shad Planking attendees waited breathlessly for piles of signs to dot the road for miles. Unfortunately, the much heralded (and steeped in tradition) Sign War was, in short, utterly lame. First thing noticed was the lack of signs (indeed, it wasn't really until we passed the Sussex County State Prison that we saw a couple of lonely Allen signs Greg Scoma, challenger to Kris Amundson last year, brought a couple (baffling me), Randy Forbes and Phil Kellam had a dozen or two, and Jim Webb and George Allen duked it out. Webb won by a rather substantial margin, with his yard signs peppering the streets, drowing out the occasional 4x8 Allen placard. The true winner of the sign war was Russ Potts. Someone decided they'd be funny and placed one along Route 460. That was one more than the amount of Harris Miller signs.
That's right: zero.
Russ Potts 1, Harris Miller 0. He did, however, demonstrate that both of his supporters were actually had a pulse, so that's good.
Upon arrival at the parking lot, surveying the scene, I was noticed by someone who told me in a heavy accent that "you're the youngest I've ever seen at the Shad Plankin'...they're goin' ta have ta ID you..."
Real ID-ing of anyone was tough, though, especially when they were dancing as if the place was a pagan ritual (note: pictured above is the only instance) whilst wearing both a Webb and Allen sticker. Note how a Miller sticker didn't get onto this woman. Harris Miller's stickers didn't get onto much. It was as if his campaign was headed to its funeral (a funeral home, interestly enough, supplied the tent for the Sussex-Surry Dispatch. I found this funny.)
While the sign war may be a meaningless elaborate ritual, the fact that Harris Miller simply didn't do anything is rather telling, or at least a good metaphor, about the state of his campaign. Both of his supporters trailed him, looking ludicrously pathetic as they feebly held signs, following him around the Shad Planking before finally leaving before the speeches. Harris Miller's contingent passed the Webb contingent on the way out as Webb was making his entrance. I almost pitied Miller, even the Libertarians had a bigger presence.
That's one of the main stories coming out of this year's Shad Planking: Harris Miller had a presence amounting to nil. Frankly, I've become convinced that Miller is just a punching bag up to get free publicity caused by a primary ruckus.
Webb, on the other hand, came in with a throng of his most loyal supporters, cheering enthusiastically as they paraded straight through the Allen-shirted crowd before arriving at the tent housing Webb's bluegrass band. "This campaign started from the bottom up," Webb said, paying homage to the team that got him to run. Webb sent us off, ending his speech by noting what the second line to his campaign slogan was: "It's all about the beer."
Beer and shad are the main parts of this tradition, but new this year are the Kellam Mints. Democratic challenger Phil Kellam in the 2nd District told me that over the past year they have gone through about 150,000 mints. Not bad. The mints did a good job, as advertised, of a post-shad item.
The shad. They do indeed nail them to boards and set them over an open fire. Overall, shad is a very bony fish. Some fried fish was served on top of a fillet of planked shad, which had an interesting, salty flavor. It's actually rather good, for a once-a-year food, in my estimation.
It was served with baked beans, stirred in a large cauldron, with "cold slaw" on the side (according to the program, anyway). While eating the shad I had to contend with a caterpillar that had quietly crawled onto my shirtsleeve. I shook it off.
There were vibes of campaigns to come permeating the Shad Planking. McDonnell cracked that Congressman Tom Davis, who trekked down with a bus containing Vincent Thoms, also skipping school, could always be spotted in a crowd because he "always carries a manila folder with John Warner's retirement benefits." However, the Allen contingent, sporting blue shirts, had higher offices on their mind for their guy, crystallized by McDonell, dryly noting to the delight of Allen supporters that, "I want to tell my grandkids that I was on stage with Pres--er--Senator George Allen."
George Allen, alas, is confused. In fact, George Allen is so busy running for president that he forgot to take the Iowa license plates off of his campaign truck. He wishes he was born in Iowa (leading me to wonder why he's snubbing New Hampshire: Granite State take note), totes an Iowa-registered truck, and carries some very Iowan cowboy boots around.
Jabs were taken at the General Assembly, which traditionally races down to Wakefield on a bus after completing the Veto Session. Of course, the Veto Session took too much time, and the Assembly didn't make it. In absentia, McDonnell poked fun at the lumbering legislature and Jim Webb's slogan (not the beer joke...his actual one), "Born Fighting--sounds original, but he stole it from the General Assembly." McDonnell then tried to convince the crowd that Speaker Howell had taken it upon himself to pass a resolution adopting the "Nebraska Plan", a unicameral legislature with the Senate abolished.
The Attorney General, however, had more practical reasons for his aversion to his old house. What is a perk of being attorney general? "My office is a long way from the General Assembly Building, so it's outside the gunshot range of Jack Reid. It takes skill to hit a bulletproof vest on your wall from the other side of the office, especially when you took gun-safety lessons from Dick Cheney," and so the Assembly was as AWOL as Harris Miller.
Overall, the Shad Planking was great fun, and I'll definitely be back next year. It's the biggest ruse in Virginia politics (the Ruritan Club gets the last laugh--and our money), but it's a tradition that I think won't go away anytime soon. It serves as a day off for campaign workers and candidates, and an excuse to get drunk while poking fun at each other. Harris Miller's nonexistent showing seems to prove his contempt for Virginia and its grand traditions, while George Allen obviously has stopped caring about Virginia and has set his eyes on the Iowa caucuses. Ben Tribbett was made immortal. James Webb is on his path to a Senate seat.
Kenton Ngo missed a day of school.