Is My Bow Too Big? How I Went From Saturday Night Live to the Tea Party (23 page)

Click.

Oh, yeah. This is a free country. I can say whatever is on my mind. Who am I afraid of? The left?! I took Andrew’s words as an endorsement; a validation; a confirmation. And he was a news-junkie since childhood, so he must know.

Around 11 p.m., while wrapping up Troopathon 2011 in Yorba Linda, Andrew asked me to be his “sidekick” the next morning at 5 a.m. while he filled in for Dennis on the
Dennis Miller Radio Show
. Because my house was two hours away in Acton, Andrew called his wife and asked her if I could spend the night to save me money on a hotel room.

His beautiful home had great art, an attractive wife with no fat on her body, four adorable kids, and a hamster named Vanilla. His backyard was The National Cemetery. He pulled back the curtains and said, “Here are the Chiclets.” I saw rows and rows of little white gravestones perfectly aligned. Then he said solemnly, “Every morning I wake up and am reminded to be grateful to the men and women who died for my freedom.”

In his living room, I said, “Andrew, did you tell Susie your book title yet?” He had been eating pulled pork that day, as he put it, when the idea had hit him.

“Oh, yeah!” his face lit up.

I felt like a voyeur watching this private moment.

“
Righteous Indignation
, with the
right
and
nation
in bold print.”

Silently her face said, “That’s perfect.” The two of them were close; loud exclamations were not needed. She had approved. She was proud of him. She respected him. And he knew it. I was embarrassed, so I excused myself to sleep. On my pillow, Susie had left a magazine, a chocolate, and a loving “Welcome!” note.

At 1 a.m., I was just drifting off, when I heard a squeaking mattress sound coming from upstairs.

Eeaw! Eeaw! Eeaw! Eeaw!

I hate staying in people’s homes. It’s too… too personal.

At 5:30 a.m., Breitbart and I were in the radio studio. At first I hesitated, but I eventually told him about the noise. I was staying in his son’s room. Maybe he should know what his son can hear through the ceiling. I thought it was a funny story. Andrew smiled and said I could tell it. On the air, right before a commercial break, Andrew asks, “So, what was it like to stay at my home last night, Victoria?” I told the story ending on the
Eeaw! Eeaw! Eeaw! Eeaw!
Andrew said, “Hamster!” and went to commercial.

Encouraged in the Cause

I kidnapped Andrew Breitbart for two hours and picked his brain, which isn’t hard to do, because he serves it on a platter. He can pontificate for twenty hours straight. I’ve seen him do it.

Well, it wasn’t exactly kidnapping. He was shooting his acting debut on the Colony Bay series, Courage, NH, and I volunteered to drive him from Riley’s Farm in Oak Glen to a private party in Calabasas, where his wife and children and friends were waiting for him. I wanted a private conversation with this great conservative champion of truth. My nineteen-year-old friend Peter sat in the backseat. I told him to take the headphones out of his ears because he was in the presence of a famous man and he should listen and learn.

I had so many questions. I was a beginner political activist. Between Andrew’s million cell phone calls (he is saving the world) I began: “What do you think of Rick Perry?”

“I’ve been out of the loop recently, out in rural cities doing speeches, so…”

“Well, he used to be a Democrat, but so was Reagan, and you! So, I think he’s real good. Perry-Palin… Perry-Bachmann. What do you think about Jerome Corsi?”

“I wish you would quit bringing up the birth certificate! You bring it up all the time!”

“What? No I don’t!”

“All the time!”

“No I don’t! I didn’t for a long time, but then I did some research and I just saw a video of Jerome Corsi showing…”

“We don’t need that! The conservatives have the strongest case against him without going there!”

“But it’s fake! Obama’s lying!”

“He always lies! The left doesn’t care! They worship him! You’re not going to convert anyone that way.”

“But… well, how can I more effectively try to convert liberals?”

“The issues! The issues! Don’t attack the person!”

I’m thinking about the chapter I just read in my book
Keys To Good Government
by David Barton. Our founding fathers thought character counted. They didn’t accept lying. President Garfield, a Christian minister, said “People are responsible for the character of their Congress. If that body be ignorant, reckless, and corrupt, it is because the people tolerate ignorance, recklessness, and corruption.” Original Chief Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, John Jay used a story from II Chronicles 19 to explain that if you placed ungodly leaders in office by your vote then you have helped place ungodly principles in office, and God could not bless ungodly principles. So I asked Andrew, “What issues?”

“First, he’s spending us into bankruptcy. He’s had the fastest debt increase of any president: four trillion in two and a half years. In two years, we’ll be bankrupt.”

“They’ll say Bush spent too much money also.”

“And… did they like that? Obama’s spent ten times more than Bush.”

“Okay, that’s good. What else?”

“Well, second, should we have foreign allies? Yes! Well, how do our allies feel about us since Obama? England? Israel? That apology tour of the Middle East to make our enemies like us? They hate us now more than ever!”

I was waiting for the third issue when Andrew’s cell phone rang. His ring tone is that old fashioned
brringg
. He took the call: something about someone writing something that might hurt someone. I eavesdropped. Words are powerful. I’m still trying to figure out how I could have been gentler with my Gay Glee Kiss comments. But even Jesus used strong words. He said to the religious leaders of his day, “You serpents, you brood of vipers, how will you escape the sentence of hell?” (Matthew 23:33). But He is God. I’m not. How does one “speak the truth in love”? Andrew hung up.

“Anyway, you shouldn’t say ‘gay agenda’! There is no ‘gay agenda’!

“But do you want your kids to watch teenage boys kissing on prime time TV? And do you want kindergarten children to be taught that Becky has two dads? And…”

“No! I fought harder than anyone against that ‘czar’ that wanted homosexual illustrations to be put into public school textbooks, the…”

“Isn’t the breakup of the family unit how a society is destroyed?”

“Yes! But it’s a Marxist agenda, not a ‘gay agenda’! It was Marxists who told the gays that they are victims (which they are not) so that they could manipulate them. The Marxists want to destroy capitalism and incentive, and replace it with class warfare: the have-nots hate the haves. They also want to use immorality to destroy the family unit. Did you read my book?

“Not yet”

“Chapter six. I talk about this.”

“Chapter six…”

Andrew’s voice had been getting progressively louder: “And when you say things like ‘birth certificate,’ ‘gay agenda,’ ‘he’s a communist,’ you are not helping! That will not convert anyone.”

“But he is a Communist!”

“I call it cultural Marxism.”

Now I’m getting loud too: “But that’s the same thing!”

He keeps reading his text messages.

“Then how am I supposed to respond to a world where the media constantly barrages my children with sexual immorality and…”

“Gay people are not the enemy of American ideals. The Marxists are. I know lots of gay conservatives. And, some gays don’t want gay marriage, and…”

“I know. There are all kinds of conservatives and all kinds of liberals, and we both have to pick one man.”

He is still reading his text messages.

“I don’t know any gay conservatives.”

“That’s why I support GOProud, and so does…”

“Ann Coulter. Well, I’m glad there are gay conservatives, but how am I supposed to respond publicly to the TV shows that are stealing the innocence of our children… I mean, I don’t care what gay people do privately, and I love them all, but if “accepting their lifestyle” means they will teach my children that same-sex attraction is normal, and show my children diagrams of, you know…”

He continues to text, but manages a response: “I don’t know the answer…”

Andrew’s cell phone rang again. His wife was wondering why he was so late. I was going eighty mph. Acting is always “Hurry up and wait.” Actually, Andrew getting finished only an hour late is a miracle in the movie world. There’s always something that goes wrong—a broken light, airplane noise, an injured actor.

“I have to tell you something personal.”

I did a double take. What? I got scared. I’m fat? I lost a pound.

“You and Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell do not communicate the Christian message in a way to gain converts. You make people hate Christianity.”

I just keep listening.

“You should do it one-on-one, not…”

“Wait, I agree with you. I am doing a terrible job converting people to Christianity!” I was thinking in my head, How do you tell someone they are going to hell unless they follow Christ in a nice way? Jesus said it, and they killed Him. “I drink wine, I got a tattoo, and I had a divorce. I’m not trying to say I’m ‘holier than thou.’ I’m just like anyone else. But then, people are like, “Yeah, you act just like me, so why should I convert to Christianity? You see? The…”

“Maybe you should just do it one-on-one. Oh, my wife just texted, ‘ETA?’ Man, she didn’t sign up for a guy who was gonna try to save the world…”

“Maybe I have to decide what my goal is in all this blogging and public speaking. Am I on a mission to convert liberals to conservatism, or to convert the spiritually lost to Christ?”

My conservatism and Christianity are intertwined. Which cause gets my greater allegiance? God commands us to preach the gospel to every creature (Mark 16:15), but if I don’t fight for a Conservative America, Marxism will take away my freedom of religion and I won’t be able to convert anyone!

Breitbart doesn’t know that I pray for him. I even bought him C.S. Lewis’s book
Mere Christianity
, because it was written by an intellectual for intellectuals. I lost the book somewhere in all my travels. I continue, “If Conservatism is my goal, I’d go weak on the social issues and emphasize the fiscal issues. If Christianity is my goal, I’d emphasize the moral issues and…”

“Oh! Back up, back up! Turn right here.”

I pull up to a gorgeous, gated estate. Breitbart jumps out of the car. I push a call button on the little gate-machine-thing. Breitbart runs through the gate, jacket and breifcase flying in his wake. He shouts over his shoulder, “I want to continue this conversation!”

My nineteen-year-old friend, Peter, moves from the back seat to the front seat, and says, shaking his head, “You might call it a conversation, but it sounded like an argument to me!”

I laughed, “I’m honored to be arguing with Andrew Breitbart. I always learn something.”

Breitbart gave me courage and the opportunity to stand up for my beliefs. When I was offered money to blog for someone else, I called him and he graciously said, “Go with the dough, go with the dough.”

When Andrew died suddenly on March 1, 2012, I was shocked, and then I wept. My hero was gone. I remember where I was standing when I heard it. My first thought was “foul play.” He had exposed Weiner, ACORN, and Pigford, and he had just announced to everyone at CPAC 2012 that he was about to reveal something “election-changing” about Obama. My second thought was simply, “death by exhaustion from saving the world.” My last thought was, “I loved him.”

Breitbart encouraged us to be “citizen journalists” since the mainstream media is not telling the truth. So, I research the internet daily. It seems that the Muslim Brotherhood has infiltrated our Pentagon, Congress, and the White House, and Shariah Law has crept into our judicial system. I wrote a song about it, and posted it to Patriot Update. The next day, at the airport, I asked a stranger, “Did they call Zone 4 yet?” He did a double-take, “I just saw you singing that Shariah Law song on the internet!”

They like beheadings and pedophile weddings,

And then they pray five times a day.

They like to kill anyone who will

Not say the things they want you to say.

Shariah law, shariah law,

What more can be said?

If you say, “Go away,”

They “Put a fatwa on your head.”

His partner approached with an equal grin. We talked for three hours on the flight. His name was John Guandolo, ex-FBI. He and his partner ended up inviting me to a six-hour briefing on the Muslim Brotherhood in Washington, DC. I went and was astounded at the mass of information proving that Islam is even more of a threat to America than Communism.