The White Collar Comedy Tour

There's plenty to be ashamed of when it comes to the American South. Texas isn't exactly a picnic most times, either, but I always make it clear to people that Texas and the South are two different things. The accents may sound similar, but I have to believe they're miles apart; otherwise I'd just turn my back on the whole place. And ever since January 2001, people in the South have been having a pretty good time, both politically and culturally: they got one of their own into the White House, they're working on legislation to defend or enforce their often parochial religious views, and, in what must surely be a sign of the biblical apocalypse, Jeff Foxworthy is more popular than he's ever been. Thanks to the Blue Collar Comedy Tour, starring Foxworthy and fellow rednecks Bill Engvall, Ron White, and Larry the Cable Guy, the American South has been mass produced as a cultural product and sold across the country. They even landed a show, Blue Collar TV, on the WB.

Comparing Foxworthy's older routines with his newer ones reveals subtle differences. True, most of the material is as stock, stereotypical and dumb as ever (Rednecks like NASCAR! Wow!), but a closer examination, although painful to watch, shows a marked difference in the stories Foxworthy and Co. tell their audiences. A decade ago he told stories about family reunions, but now Foxworthy's stories are likely to start with, "So I took the family to Europe...," or, "So we were having our house renovated...."

Home remodeling? Trips to other continents? How is this in line with the everyman, relatable "humor" that got Foxworthy where he is today? Are the same old Wal-Mart audiences going to buy this from one of their supposed own?

You bet they are, and not just because Foxworthy is telling them to buy it. The ultimate trickle-down model of classist segregation masquerading as plainspoken, folksy charm comes from none other than the leader of the free world: George W. Bush himself.

Bush has inexplicably kept the drawling accent the rest of his family lost long ago, despite his being born and educated in New England. A lifetime of opportunity and well-documented breaks from responsibility have placed him in the ruling class of Americans, the upper echelon of wealth, but the man still won two elections trading on his homespun charm, telling the voters that "Washington bureaucrats" shouldn't have so much power, all the while aspiring to be one. (Even more amazing is how Bush managed to successfully blame many of the nation's woes on those D.C. power hogs, despite that Republicans have controlled most of Washington and the country's governorships since Bush took office.)

But Bush didn't begin really showing his true colors until the recent debacle with Cindy Sheehan. Sheehan's son Casey, a Marine, was killed in Iraq more than a year ago, and Sheehan has been picketing Bush's Crawford, Texas, ranch since Aug. 6, during the president's vacation, to try and win a brief audience with the man and ask him why we're at war, why Bush's children aren't serving if he believes in the cause, and most of all, why Casey had to die.

Her complaints aren't wholly without merit. A connection between Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden, however tenuous, has never been proven with enough force to persuade most Americans that invading Baghdad was the solution to our post-9/11 problems. And although a Marine's mother lives with the expectation that her son or daughter could die too young, Sheehan is upset that her son's death seems to be in vain. What's the real point of the fighting in Iraq? What do we as Americans and as a global community hope to gain from it? Some locals have expressed disagreement with Sheehan in a less than civilized manner, but she remains, hoping for a few minutes of the president's time.

But Bush has refused to meet with her, and most likely never will. For one, to meet with her would admit a willingness to entertain other ideas about the Global War Against Evil, or whatever it's being called these days, and Bush never deviates from his plan, right or wrong. But more importantly, Bush won't meet with Sheehan because he can't. He's above the people now, risen from their ranks to become their leader, and any pretense of connection to common men and women is just that: pretense.

He may still ride his bike and eat barbecue and enjoy roaming his ranch like the good old days, but Bush is anything but ordinary. He's the best kind of politician, one who fakes commonality so well that even his detractors start to believe him. But sorry, Cindy: he'll never tell you what you want to hear. To do so would be to break through the illusion and present himself as a man of multiple ideas and opinions, open to many different arguments, and that's something Bush doesn't do.