I grew up in Princeton, New Jersey in an academic atmosphere where those that didn’t work for the university largely commuted to New York and worked in advertising (my father) or the financial sector. I don’t think I met a Republican (other than during Summer trips) until I was eighteen who would drink a can of beer or put yellow mustard on anything they intended to put in their mouth. I have come to know that strange creature known as a member of the Republican Base only in later life. In college, one of my girlfriends worked for a while in a redneck bar where they would play Whitney Houston endlessly on the jukebox and say, “that nigger sur kin sing” everytime. They were Republicans, through and through.
I’ve split most of my life between Los Angeles, Philadelphia (and its suburbs), and the New York metro area. I haven’t had much contact with working class Republicans, although I knew quite a few in Michigan when I went to school there. In any case, the whole idea of a Republican using yellow mustard is totally foreign to me. Republicans use Dijon, and they don’t eat hamburgers. They eat ham and steak. I mean, are you telling me these guys aren’t Republicans (or Tories)?
For Sean Hannity to criticize Obama for using spicy mustard is as silly as me thinking Hannity drinks anything but Chardonnay.
