St. Paul Report: What Drunk Republicans Do When They’re Certain There Aren’t Reporters There (Oops)


What do Republicans sing at the piano bar of an old Polish dance hall in Minneapolis? On Saturday, two days before the start of the RNC, locals had introduced us to Nye’s Polonaise Room, which was rightly named the best bar in America by Esquire in 2006 and features the amazing accordion stylings of Ruth Adams and the World’s Most Dangerous Polka Band. But when we returned to the bar late last night, it was overrun with rumpled suits swaying by the piano bar. The crowd, who seemed to hail mostly from Virginia, launched into Frank Sinatra’s oeuvre and “Danny Boy” and “Waltzing Mathilda” and one fantastic rendition of “There’s Nothin’ Like a Dame” from South Pacific — pretty much like New York gays, though with a lot more winking and on-the-knee serenading being thrown in our direction. Then a man who seemed to be the leader — or lead drinker — of the group stumbled up to the bar and grabbed the mike. “Are we sure there’s no press in the room?” Ummm. “Are we absolutely positively sure there’s no press in the room?” We had the sudden urge to run to the car, grab our tape recorder, and hide it in our pocket. “Okay, then!” he said, and signaled for the pianist to start.

This is what he sang.

God bless free enterprise!

System divine!

Stand beside her,

And guide her,

Just as long as the profits are mine.

It brought down the house.