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Unconventional, Day Three: One Lonely Me Three I Be

By Chris Fara1

The DNC website got thirteen million hits yesterday. Regretfully, Me Three saw none of the action. For some reason we’ve been ostracized from the blogosphere, meaning that there’s no link from the DNC site to ours. CNN is also doing segments on the keyboard junkies – but no mention yet of the best two out here. We’ve now officially requested props for the rest of the week, so if the page suddenly crashes it’s because we’re hanging with thousands of new fans. Sure we’re not technically a blog, which is a good thing, but that doesn’t justify blackballing us from the breakfasts and circuit jerks. Shunned from the big newsrooms, and apparently the small ones as well, I took our one hall pass and carved out a spot next to some wall outlets in the press barracks. I had a long day and a longer night to process, so our readers could have an alternative to the blah blah that these other caffeine zombies are pounding out before my bloodshot eyes.

After a tea party at Starbucks, my morning began in what I assume is typical media fashion. I headed to the Sheraton Boston, which is temporarily home base for the swing state delegates who get their backs rubbed and pud tugged all week. Today the sweet spot also hosted the daily convention press briefing, some veteran hoopla for Kerry, and most importantly the women’s caucus. In the first ballroom I got breaking news that the Johns were bravely endorsing the 9/11 Commission recommendations, in the second I found out that veterans are giggle-happy over Kerry’s run for the white house, and in the third I discovered that pro-choicers have even more stickers and slogans than their nemeses. All in all it gave me a solid reason to hit the streets before chowing down on baloney all night long.

Around noon I headed to what was arguably the most exciting event of the day. With notables not hitting the Fleet Center podium until nine or so, the anarchists, vegans, and patchouli revolutionaries had the city’s attention. Hosted by the Black Tea Society, which is Boston’s most reputable and organized anarchist group, the “Really, Really Democratic Bazaar” was to the DNC what a four-day acid bender is to a bowl of cereal. On the scene at Boston Common were: free huggers, the League of Pissed Off Voters, two guys who converted their VW to run on vegetable oil, and a group of out-of-work activists who will be walking from the DNC to the RNC in Manhattan. Most hysterical were the Syracuse System Shakers, who descended on the Commons in pink regalia to chant homemade interpolations like, “Kerry Kerry quite contrary – so far right it’s kind of scary.” I haven’t heard rhymes that tight since Andrew Dice Clay was over for dinner.

The train ride back to the Fleet Center was short, but just far enough to keep the mohawks and free speech out of sight. The physical distance between the bazaar and the convention was significant, but mostly because it symbolized the gap between disillusionment and political reality. Sure it was musical to hear the band verbally attack the mounted unit, “Get those animals off the horses,” but there was work to be done over at the police state in the North End.

On the floor, the liberal artists behind the scenes broke out their brushes and painted a pretty picture of diversity. Tuesday was blaxploitation night here at the DNC, with appearances from the party’s most talented minority leaders. The afternoon Call to Order came from Bill Richardson, the Latino superstar Governor of New Mexico. Down the line were California’s sexy Linda Sanchez, Illinois’ Jesse Jackson, Jr., and Michigan’s uncharismatic yet distinguished representative, John Dingell. Throwing the last two cents into the first round piggy bank was The Honorable Kwame Kilpatrick, Detroit’s kick-ass Mayor, and the type of honest politician who most likely curses John Kerry back in motor city.

The time between speakers is filled with an eclectic spread of has-beens and shouldn’t-have-ever-beens. In case any Republicans out there are looking for more reasons to pin down the party as a bunch of soft-ass liberals, Peter, Paul, and Mary threw down the four pound with a flower power remix of “Blowin’ in the Wind,” and some nonsense about going on a cross-country trip with a hammer. Tragically misplaced amongst a series of powerful speakers, the decrepit trio brought roars from the pressroom and discomfort for all who shun corniness.

The next session was a typical example of what happens when suits sit around tables trying to figure out what young people think is cool. You guessed it - that damn kid from The OC showed up again. Then there was twelve-year-old Nubia Smith Whitaker, the scared stiff delegate from the Kids for Kerry Boston Chapter. While the notion of a political children’s movement is as ludicrous as one like Homeless People for Rolexes, they provided a smooth transition into the final hours of the Democrats’ tribute to tokenization. Microphone-friendly black voices filled in while big dogs like Kennedy, Daschle, and Gephardt waited in the background. Cali’s own Mike Honda touched down to complement the already impressive peanut gallery, and proved that regardless of how his party showboats dudes like him, he is indeed a passionate man of the House.

After radical regulars like Ossie Davis and Maya Angelou warmed up the crowd, Teddy K. did what he does best. Ignoring a week of headlines promising to lay off the White House, Kennedy slapped up the dividers good and laid out the blue carpet for his long-time friend and colleague. He even hit ‘em over the dome with, “The only thing we have to fear is four more years of George W. Bush.” He passed the mic to his homeboy Gephart, and on to Dashcle and Carol Mosley Braun. Dropping science as usual, our favorite female would-be candidate spoke on segregation and sacrifice, all the while flashing that smile that’s as brilliant as her political career.

Then it was time for the final countdown. Some filler acts occupied the space between headliners like Ron Reagan, who broke out a tearjerker on stem cells, and keynoter Barrack Obama, who solidified his bid for the vacant Illinois Senate seat. Sorry to say that I didn’t last through Mrs. Kerry or her kids as a result of seeing enough horse shit on the Commons earlier today.

Most notably, the late night brought out America’s favorite progressive, who jumped on stage to a crowd that would have supported a stage dive. The applause rang for close to five minutes, forcing him to grab the gavel as if he didn’t cherish every hand smack. He spit the one-liner of the night with, “Politics are too important to be left to politicians.” I said it before and I’ll say it again, Doctor Dean. That’s why we’re here, and we’ll be here all week.

Chris FARA1 is a writer living in New York City.  He can be reached at fara1andonly@netscape.net.

© 2004 Me Three