PA Society Chronicles – 2012


The Bible says that the last days will be marked by “rumors of war“. It’s a good thing it didn’t say “rumors of running for Governor“, because if it did, after this year’s PA Society, the end would surely be nigh. And while I don’t know what “nigh” means, the end is one thing you don’t want to be nigh.

Last weekend I attended my 10th Pennsylvania Society. Each year I’ve tried to give a moment-by-moment account. I pride myself on accuracy, only changing two things. I alter the names of those involved but only slightly so you can still recognize them. And I utterly fabricate anything necessary to make myself look hotter, smarter, and, this year, more Gubernatorial¬†. So remember, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. But we weren’t in Vegas. So enjoy!


Thursday night is what I refer to as “Guys’ Night“. It’s a night when real men can get together and talk about rugged and manly things. This year, it was mostly what colors make the prettiest tapestries (surprising, I know). I joined a group of my buddies at a steak house on the East Side. As we ate raw Bison while heatedly debating color palettes and holding up fabric swatches, I started getting my first texts about people who were jumping into the Governor’s race.

It was fascinating. Without mentioning names (for fear of being proven wrong or beaten up), I think I can safely say that the names I was hearing ranged from interesting and credible to insane and delusional. You wouldn’t call some of these people Governor if their name was “Governor“.

Then I had an epiphany. If ANYONE could say they wanted to be governor, why can’t I start some good rumors about myself? It was at that moment I decided that I had to make sure someone started some rumors about me. And then I realized, that like the recent rumor that Kate Middleton had a “I {heart} Daylin” butt tattoo, I had to start the rumors myself.


I woke up fairly early and decided to immediately get some rumors going. As I went for my run, I saw the hotel housekeeper and told her “don’t go in my room for a while, you’ll wake up Taylor Swift and she hates that”. Wow, this is fun!

After my run I got a haircut. Yes, a Gubernatorial Haircut! Although I suspected there was an issue when the first staffer who saw me said “Did you yell at the person who gave you that haircut?!?”. Then, it was back to the rumor mill. Since I left Taylor to go run, 8 more people had been mentioned for Governor, 13 for Congress, and Tim Briggs was called a “shoe-in” for the Nobel Prize in Physics. I needed to catch up.

So I immediately started a Twitter hashtag: #rumorsaboutDaylin. This allowed people to keep up with the rumors about me, but had the unfortunate collateral effect of inspiring a bunch of other hashtags, including #DaylinisaDork, #WhyIHateDaylin, and #IfISeeDaylinI’mGonnaKickHisAssSoHelpMeGod. Hey, its the price you pay for being destined for high office.

I then immediately started tweeting rumors I had “heard” about me, knowing that nobody would suspect I was making them up myself in a desperate attempt to compensate for the lack of attention I received as a child. These rumors included:

= I’m running for Governor, but not of Pennsylvania.

= I’m running for Congress.

= I’m running for the Bundestag.

= Pat Toomey has asked me to be his Vice-Senator.

= Governor Corbett calls me his ‘little minx’”.

= I once shot a man in Reno, just to watch him die.

= My CIA nick-name is “Danger Hunk”.

As I made the round of receptions that night, it all seemed to be working like a charm. I would bump into people and they’d playfully say “Hey Governor” or “Hey Congressman” or “There he is! I’m going to kick his ass, so help me God”.

At one point, my posse and I were in search of shrimp and good conversation. Mostly shrimp. And we saw a big bowl of it on a table in a small reception in the Waldorf. So I went in and grabbed a medium-sized mountain of crustaceans, and started digging in. Then, when I looked up to take a breath, I saw the entire vast right-wing conspiracy staring at me.

In a circle were Kevin Shivers, Dave Patty, Lowman Henry, Gene Barr and the rest of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I had apparently walked into the Satanic Cotillion or whatever they call their gatherings. They seemed concerned that I was being a bit “liberal” with their shrimp. Naturally, the polite thing to do was to go over and say hello.

It turns out they were very nice guys and surprisingly open to persuasion on many of the points of contention between us. After about 15 minutes, Dave left to get a likeness of Barack Obama tattooed on his chest. Kevin promised to sell his guns and give the money to gay welfare recipients and Lowman said he planned to quit it all and go open a stand selling purses made out of hemp on the beach. Gene still seemed stuck on how many shrimp I had taken.


Today started off with the Penn Breakfast. This is a great event that has become so crowded it has evolved into a test of whether you can talk about who is running for what while not pouring smoked salmon on your neighbor or accidentally impregnating the next Governor.

As for me, I noticed that the talk had morphed from whether I would run for Governor into what state I was running in. I heard a number of people whisper that they hoped it would be “far away“. It was here I ran into John Hanger, the only person to officially declare his candidacy, who vehemently denied he was running, in a brilliant piece of counter-strategy!

In the afternoon, I left the world of Pennsylvania politics briefly when I saw Al Pacino in Glengarry-Glenross on Broadway. Pacino was terrific but even he felt the need to tell the audience that he was happy doing his current job and had no plans “at this time” to set up a Gubernatorial Exploratory Committee. Although he would be accepting contributions to FredoPAC, his Political Action Committee.

Saturday night, I did something I never do (no, not “leave a tip”). I went to the official PA Society Dinner. I sat with political consultant “Doc” Sweitzer who was even more irreverent than me. When the speeches got long I took out an imaginary gun, spun the chamber and pointed it at my head. Not to be outdone, Doc then took out a real gun, spun the chamber and pointed at my head. Fortunately for me and seemingly frustrating for him, he didn’t shoot the chamber with the bullet.

The honoree was film-maker M. Night Shyamalan. I found his acceptance speech very moving. He talked about his family and his co-workers and how he was inspired to make the movies he did by the people he had met. And then it hit me! THAT BASTARD IS RUNNING FOR GOVERNOR!!!

I immediately started a “Stop Shyamalan” Facebook page and tweeted that he had raised taxes 4 times! (Twice while making Signs!). I also started a rumor that the Lady in the Water was ME!!. I never saw that movie and had no idea what that meant, but I figured it would confuse people enough to stop a Shyamalan bandwagon.

Finally, I ended the weekend at the Marcellus Shale Coalition Party. After some serious slam-dancing with someone who looked a lot like lobbyist Bill Bova, who called himself “Bill” and two tender slow-dances with Auditor General-Elect Eugene DePasquale, it was back to Pennsylvania where the “Leach for New Mexico!” signs were already littering the turnpike.

All in all, it was another great PA Society Weekend. Food was eaten, drinks were drinked. Egos were inflated, and impossible, even frightening dreams were nurtured. And remember, the next time you hear a Taylor Swift song, its probably about me.


Posted in Uncategorized | Comments Off