by Bill Lussenheide, Patriot, Provocateur, and Professional Middle Finger Collector
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Today, I, Bill Lussenheide—yes, that Bill Lussenheide—dusted off my legendary “Uncle Sam” outfit, the same red, white, and blue spectacle that once turned heads, raised eyebrows, and possibly caused mild whiplash in Ravalli County during my run for Central Committee. But today wasn’t Ravalli. Oh no. Today, I took my star-spangled swagger into the belly of the progressive beast—Missoula, Montana’s own Berkeley, minus the avocados.
I teamed up with Mike Starmer, a seasoned veteran of waving signs at moving vehicles. His brave wife Barbara—once dared to run as a Republican against Zooey Zephyr in a college district, which is the political equivalent of bringing a steak to a vegan potluck. Courageous folks, the Starmers. We set up camp on Reserve Avenue, during Friday rush hour—because if you're going to be yelled at, better to have an audience.
Mike came prepared. I’m talking 4x8-foot signs so big; they could double as fallout shelters. Planted proudly in the grass, for about a block, near Chick-fil-A (naturally), these signs screamed patriotism with all the subtlety of a fireworks stand on the Fourth of July. We had flags, we had hand-held “Honk if you Love Freedom” signs, and most importantly—we had me, looking like Uncle Sam just walked off an Army recruiting poster.
Now, let’s talk feedback. Over the course of a few hours, I was serenaded by no fewer than 200 middle fingers, and a colorful array of verbal barbs that would make a sailor blush. A special shout-out to the angry Missoula women whose glares could peel paint—your enthusiasm was truly unmatched, she leaned so far out of the window of the passenger side, to give me a DOUBLE FISTED MIDDLE FINGER, that she almost fell out of the car!
But hey! Lest you think the afternoon was all venom and profanity, take heart: the positive responses—smiles, waves, honks of support—outnumbered the hate 5 to 1! That’s right, folks. Even in Missoula, land of kale and “coexist” bumper stickers, the spirit of freedom is alive and honking.
Was it wild? Yes. Was it occasionally terrifying? Also yes. But was it worth it? You bet your stars and stripes it was. Especially because we got to counter-program Bernie and AOC’s visit with a hearty, Uncle Sam-sized “NOT IN OUR HOUSE!” (and by “house,” I mean Chick-fil-A’s lawn).
In conclusion: if you want to test your convictions, your cardiovascular health, and your ability to dodge flying iced coffee cups, try dressing like Uncle Sam in Missoula. It’s cheaper than therapy and twice as thrilling.God bless America—and God bless my dry cleaner, who now has to deal with protest sweat, dignity, and possibly hummus.
Bill, thank you for your patriotism, your sweat, and your courage!