On Behalf of Amerika

What do you get when you convene Utah state senators, Capitol Hill congressmen, attorney generals, four thousand citizens, and a former Massachusetts Governor? A grand ballroom of electrified, patriotic Republicans! Can you say heart palpitations?

My husband, who really put forth effort in a date night surprise, gifted me two tickets to Mitt Romney's national book tour and press engagement at the Salt Palace in downtown Salt Lake City. He said I could take whomever I pleased, but who else but my significant other of 15 years would understand the deep commitment and passion I have for all things American? My parents may have christened me Erika, but my public renaming of "Amerika" by family and friends hasn't been for nothing, you know.

I have to admit I was a little shell-shocked upon receiving my gift because A) my husband, political events, and Saturday evenings do not usually fit into the same equation, and B) my husband spent a larger sum of money than I would have to gain entrance into said political event. Once I regained consciousness after hearing the grand total, I realized I needed to ease my white-knuckled grip upon life, relax a bit, and allow myself permission to enjoy a couple hours out of my daily stress-riddled escapades. If not, there is a good chance my esophagus might strangle any life-giving organs within reach, and I am telling you from personal experience, it would be as pretty as what endometriosis has done to my girly parts of procreation.

Saturday, March 13, was the big date for the event and my anticipation grew with each day crossed off the calendar. That afternoon the storm clouds moved in and Mother Nature blitzed us with sheets of unwanted white stuff. I was concerned what the traveling conditions would bring, yet neither Mother Nature nor Old Man Winter were going to keep this constituent from her rightful place among the other flag waving, fist pounding conservatives demanding the restoration of order to our local, state, and federal government offices...yes, that includes you, White House, Senate, and House of Representatives.

Thaus and I arrived at the ballroom one hour prior to the preappointed starting time. I felt like a warrior princess riding in on my red, white, and blue spangled chariot as I wended my way through the huddled masses of sharply dressed politicians, private citizens, and less than sharply dressed paparazzi. The thought crossed my mind that I could be at home in events such as this every day, and I briefly contemplated a change of career paths as kicking butt in Washington would be so much more fun than kicking butt in a private school of entitled prima donnas. I am not delusional though; Washington would have me slinging coffees instead of writing legislation and I can just as easily be a gopher in Provo, Utah, as I can in Washington, D.C. Nonetheless, a girl must have her fantasies.

Thaus was thrilled to see the smile bridge my jawline as I scanned the crowd and became rambunctiously overjoyous at the arrival of Utah's finest elected officials. I knew I had to get in on the action, but needed to wait for the moment of least resistance so I laid in wait for my optimal opportunity.

Mitt and Ann Romney took the stage looking like the best version of Ken and Barbie I have ever seen. I sentimentally melted over their high school love story, now 45 years in the making, and was ready to pound the streets for Mitt's re-election campaign as he valiantly and nobly praised our great nation and urged us to collectively restore America to her inherent state of greatness, reminding us that America has and always will be the foremost superpower amongst the world's civilizations. Prose such as his titillates my heart and elevates me to new heights of thinking. Yes, Mitt, I will do my part to make this country all that she can be; yes, I will rise to the occasion and fight for liberty and justice for all; yes, Mitt, you can count on me. By the way, has anyone told you you look like a president 'cause you, my friend, are a fine looking speciman!



Okay, getting back to the night's events, I was grateful for the opportunity to hear Mitt's speech and I am super excited to read his new book. I love America, and that includes reading and writing about her too.

After the crowds dispersed, I noticed a few politicans schmoozing by the stage so I sauntered threw the remaining guests and planted myself a few feet from Senator Orrin Hatch. I had to choose between approaching Senator Hatch and Congressman Jason Chaffetz, who is also a good-looking man, but as I told my husband, "A Senator outranks a Congressman!" Excitedly, but with as much professionalism as I could muster, I addressed Senator Hatch and invited him to sign my book and take a picture with me. He replied, "Of course, Dear. It would be my honor." I like that man. Forget about what I said 90 minutes earlier...





If you are wondering about the unusual title gracing the cover, it is in direct reference to our current president and his apologies to other nations for America's former administrations. In the words of Utah's beloved politician, "This is not a time to apologize for America. This is a time to be proud of America."