Josh Sharp Senatorial Campaign Manager pictured eating fried chicken during a campaign fundraiser in MississippiQuitman, MississippiJanuary 2, 1959 The early bird got the worm, as the old addage went. That's certainly what Sharp's longtime senatorial campaign manager John Pikeman Thatcher thought. The elderly man slouched down in his chair at the small shack. His large pant size evident of an absolute absence of physical exercise and a lifetime of twinkee binging diets washed down with copious amounts of coca-cola. The light sound of car breaks brought Thatcher's eyes to a truck that parked square outside of a medium sized park. The clear sign of White's Only was emblazoned in big, black letters on a pale, picket fence-white color at the very front gate. A rather miniscule army had been ordered, with various servants rushing about, decorating a series of large cafeteria style tables with intricate, if mass-manufactured from "boston" of all places, dollies. Large sleeves of fine china were on either arm of various wait-staff that got to work setting each and every place.
Thatcher had to admire the handiwork, in such short notice, he rushed to call them out to cater a rather large event. While there wasn't going to be tens of thousands or even thousands of people, the low hundreds would probably have overwhelmed the small town-feeling of Quitman. So Thatcher was more than thankful at the small army of hands that arrayed to cater and organize such a political fundraising dinner. Each plate of Mississippi Fried Chicken (the Kentucky Colonel was loathe to actually sponsor the campaign of the racist segregationist mississippian, so Thatcher ingeniously hired locals instead of having to pay for out-of state laborers in travel and board expenses.) was paired with hefty helpings of mashed potatoes and corn. The several cooks rushed about, barking out orders from the pairs of tented kitchens that went about breading, frying and serving up pipin' hot birds with their assorted pairs of sides.
Thatcher got up from the throne, like a king inspecting his domain or a master looking over the plantation, proud at his slaves. Only not a single one was black. All the labor hired was white. While Thatcher knew he could have saved a buck, it would have confused the political message of "keeping the coloreds down and the price of cotton up" that was going to be the centerpiece of the fundraising dinner.
For Five cents, you could get a cold, refreshing Coca-Cola.
For an additional Ten cents, a piping hot plate of mashed potatoes.
If you wanted some actual protein, that would be another three cents per bird.
Like Corn? That's another nickle.
As an alluring bonus in dessert, Thatcher spared no expense, catering Krispy Kreme Doughnuts in two large station wagons that bought out their glazed hot boxes of fried diabetes. If he was going to be fundraising, he might as well appeal to the gluttonus nature of southerners, one he and his fat ass were all to familiar with. Obesity rates be damned, this was political showmanship at it's finest. It was one of those events in which people from all over the county gathered in a social shin-dig.
"Fried Chicken, doughnuts and coke? Shit, count me in." Thatcher would overhear from the local youth when passing out flyers for the get-together.
If you didn't give a damn about politics or had no idea who the hell your senator was, at least you could pay for a cheap piping hot meal, get to know your local neighbors or at the very least snag a fried, delicious, ass-enlargening doughut on your way out. Thatcher and the senatorial campaign of Joshua Sharp didn't see a difference, especially with the one party-lock he had on the general election. What he had to look out for was a challenger, a fresh face that would contrast with the aged look and voice of the seventy year old senator sharp's speaking skills.
Sure enough, the allure of cheap food, light jazz music from a local high school band (in-spite of jazz's supposed 'colored' origins at least according to caucasian-american civil rights activists) did draw in a significant crowd, one Thatcher was now addressing from the local wooden pavilion, complete with a microphone and rudimentary speaker system only just installed.
"My, My, what a crowd we've got tonight! I'm pleased that this is one heckuva hit with the locals. Apparently saying that there's dirt cheap, damn good home cookin, and that's got the little brats and dolls outta the house? Parents, apparently now you know the secret to quiet children: duck tape and a belt."The crowd of parents chuckled at the joke, with Thatcher's fat face beaming from end to end before he continued with his opening remarks.
"Now, I kid, of course. Nothing can beat good parental discipline and tender love. If y'all happen to mix the two, it ends up even better. I sure as heck didn't not know that. Any? No? Man, oh man. Oh bother. I sure hope this food's good enough for your standards folks, you're payin top penny for fried finger fooood. Darn-tootin this had better be edible. If it's not, you get half your money back. No refunds. Read the flyer silly billies. Dumbasses.
Any how, As the flyer states in the fine-print, this is a political fundraiser. For who you might ask? Why, for the most faithful senator in Mississippi. He's even more popular here than he is with President Davis. (more chuckles) I'm as shocked as you are at that news! Whatever Mississippi asked for, he's delivered it time and time again. More money for bridges and trainyards, delivered. Needs more funds for the local schools to prevent foreclosure on the farm? Worked with Southern Democrats to deliver more Mississippian cotton and helped to ensure that there's no protective tariffs on goods coming into the state of Mississippi? He's behind all of it.
You know, I said to Sharp, are you sure you're not part dog? Whatever Mississippi wants, you get it without many questions. Hell, I tried patting his belly once, but he bit me.(crowd laughs) Be it possible plutonium for a state nuclear program-I mean possible money for Mississippi museums on the glorious antebellum south to money for local healthcare options thanks to the private industries not gouging the everyman with stupid high prices. He's delivered it time and time again. Uh-I know I said that before, Trust me I'm going senile. (crowd laughs) No matter what the challenges in getting the bill passed, he has always thrown in the red meat for the caucasian-american activists within the state.
Remember, for each plate of pipin' hot food you get, and if you wanna bring some back for your grandpa or mammie, go right ahead, Sharp is feeding Mississippi, and you're feeding Sharp. I know that we'll win the Senate election in August or September. The one you actually vote in. No not the November one. Ok show of hands, who voted in the late election, the November one? Three people here? Alright then, what about the Primary election, AKA the one that matters. Shit. Every single person here? Goddamn, your money is going to good use in filling out Sharp's bottom line. He's gotta eat too ya know. I've talked off your ears enough lately. I apologize that he's not here right now, but he's fighting for Mississippi right now in Washington. Fighting against the damn influences of President Davis. He's ensuring that the colors stay in their rightful places, down on the boot of the white man. He's also calling to attention the whip crackin' efforts of President Davis on the good folks of the southern confederate states! He is a modern-day Martin-Luther, raging against the Papal Bullshit that's commanded from the GOP! If you remember one thing tonight, this catchy slogan. Sharp fights for white rights! White Rights? He Fights! Oh Davey. If only his first name was Jefferson, then we'd love a native man as much as we love Josh Sharp for the United States Senate in 1960! I've talked your minds away now, polish up whatever and stuff."
"White Rights? He Fights!"
"He Fights for the Rights of Whites!"
"Hey, are you a dumbass? Vote for Josh! He's pretty Sharp!"