Oh hey. What’s up?
Yeah, not much here either…just, you know, thinking about my day. It wasn’t that exciting, really. I hung out with some buddies. It was a casual gathering, really — only, like, 84,000 of my closest friends were there, according to the Denver Post.
Are you buying this nonchalant approach? Yeah, me neither, but I’m kind of stuck. See, I’m a cynic with nothing to whine about, and it’s getting hard not to sound like a saccharine cheerleader here in Denver. During Barack Obama’s acceptance speech, for one of the first times I can recall, the little snarky voice in the back of my head was (almost) silent. That, or it was deafened by something I’m really not used to — genuine, raw optimism. Patriotism. For a dejected soul of the post-9/11 era, that’s saying something. Something huge.
Tonight wasn’t an occasion for coolness, an aloof attitude or sassy asides. This moment meant too much to too many people for that.
This was the climactic moment (thus far) in a civil rights struggle predating America itself. Historical serendipity brought tens of thousands of people mile above sea level to witness a black candidate accept a major party’s nomination for the presidency for the first time exactly 45 years after the March on Washington.
It’s a point that’s been perhaps over-emphasized in the media, particularly on television, but it gets me every time.
Depending on who you ask, tonight marked a climax in a number of other struggles, too:
For some, a struggle to ignite an era of post-partisan politics (whatever that means);
For others, a struggle to beat the odds and put a Republican in the White House in spite of every historical trend suggesting it’s impossible;
For me, a struggle to remain objective in a situation capable of turning the most stoic journalist partisan.
I failed miserably in the face of the last struggle, but I’m okay with that. I’m just thrilled to have experienced a time in my life when I felt so impassioned that it would have been unethical as a journalist to do anything but ‘fess up about it. Besides, for me, and I imagine for countless others in the crowd tonight, this wasn’t so much about a political candidate as it was about regaining faith in a nation with which we’ve become jaded.
I can’t describe how inspiring it is to see about 84,000 people gathered in one place who actually give a damn about what happens next in America. I don’t care if you’re a Democrat, a Republican, a Libertarian, a Crystal Pepsian or an anarchist (even though a massive anachist assembly is kind of counterintuitive). It doesn’t matter who people vote for, I’m just excited to see them energized about candidates. Seeing roughly 1 out of every 3,600 people in the country gathered for a cause more important than the next American Idol is profoundly humbling and rousing all at once.
Tonight was…I don’t even know. Incredible. Absolutely incredible.
Obama’s speech, though pristinely delivered, was far from perfect. I’d like to have seen something more sweeping and thematic. This was a great speech, one that satisfied the biggest needs in the campaign — specific policy proposals, a dignified but pointed attack on McCain and a continued message of the campaign’s stronghold theme, hope — but this speech could have been one for the ages. It’s a classic case of high expectations tainting perception of what actually happened. I was expecting something epic, so when I got the best candidate speech I’ve witnessed in my lifetime, it wasn’t good enough.
But that probably won’t matter. Today, John McCain sliced into Barack’s media “bounce,” which might’ve proved a good thing. Because I have a ton of respect for McCain…but Sarah Palin? Really?
So, since this program’s finally drawn to a close, here’s a final analysis of the goals I originally set for myself.
1) Through my media/political fieldwork, gain a better sense of vocation: politics, journalism, or both.
The thought that maybe journalism wasn’t the best choice for me has long been lingering in my subconscious, I think…and occasionally, it’d surge forth into my conscious mind. These two weeks confirmed those latent suspicions. I sincerely believe I’m too passionate about politics to, in good conscience, pursue a career as a reporter.
This doesn’t rule out journalism as a career, of course. I’m sure there are plenty of opportunities out there at progressive publications. Maybe someday, I’ll snag a job as an opinion columnist. I could always report about politics or the arts —venues in which having a strong political opinion and the passion to voice that opinion won’t prove ethically problematic.
Furthermore, my internship with the New York Post was a pretty dismal experience; I didn’t feel like I gained much of anything from it. If anything, I regressed because I didn’t practice the craft for two solid weeks.
In contrast, I’ve grown enamored of the political process. Do I know exactly what I want to do? No, but I know I’m applying to graduate schools for political science.
2) Through our group discussions and guest lecturers, decide if I find politics fascinating enough to pursue a graduate degree.
Yes. See above. ‘Nuff said.
3) Schmooze, socialize and rub elbows to either a) gain me journalistic connections, or b) gain political connections for a post-graduate degree or career.
I got a business card from the front page editor of the Washington Post and managed to snag contact information from a guy who owned a small paper, has been in the business for years, went to Mizzou and dabbles in screenwriting. I think that’s a job well done.
4) Meet Kathleen Sebelius, Larry King, Wolf Blitzer, or any of this year’s crew of folks who vied for the Democratic nomination.
I didn’t meet any of these folks. Larry King wasn’t even here. But of all the goals I could’ve failed to meet, I think this one was just fine. Besides, I met John Oliver and Rob Riggle, and they’re infinitely cooler than most newscasters and politicians anyway.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Catharsis, Daily Show and "Surprise"
This is going to be so cliché, I’m wincing as I type, but there’s no other way to put it:
I just had a ringside seat to history.
It almost didn’t happen. I was sitting in my usual spot on the couch in the New York Post’s press lounge when Annie, our supervisor, approached Kevin and me.
“I think Gregg has an assignment for one of you,” she said. Turned out, Gregg, the politics editor, needed someone to gather quotes from Hillary supporters, since she would (rumor had it) call for a vote by acclamation for Barack Obama.
I almost gave up the opportunity. I’d already had the chance to watch two nights of the convention from inside the Pepsi Center, and I thought I’d give Kevin the chance to do a few interviews. But something in my gut told me I was making a mistake — after all, Kevin already had a byline. So, propelled by some kind of freakish, almost mystical force, I took the floor press pass, which Kevin graciously relinquished, and I made my way to the convention floor.
I settled into a spot in front of the New York delegation, figuring that’s where I’d want to be when Clinton made her big move. Don’t ask how I managed to squeeze in there. The states announced their votes, and around the time Kansas, my home state, hit security officers started pushing people away from the area where I was standing.
“You can stay,” they said, when I started to move. “Just don’t get in the way.”
I knew something was about to happen; I could feel it simmering inside.
The area started to flood with familiar faces — campaign coordinators…folks I’d seen in the backdrops of photos from newspaper and magazine articles featuring Hillary. Oh my God. She’s going to come right here.
New Hampshire. New Jersey. New Mexico…
Bodyguards lined up in front of me. I was pressed up against a man’s shoulder, and guy from the BBC smacked me in the head with a camera. (Accidentally, I hope.) And suddenly, I saw a sea foam green pantsuit flanked by blurs of grey. It was Hillary.
The flash bulbs from a thousand cameras burned the moment into my brain — and my retinas.
I was there when history happened. I was there, not more than six or seven yards away, when one of the greatest moments in this nation’s political history took place. I was there when Hillary Clinton, the nation’s first real female contender a major party’s nomination, officially threw her support behind and sealed the deal for the nation’s first black presidential candidate. And I was feet — FEET — away.
As the moment concluded, amidst a cacophonic explosion of applause and impassioned shouts, I heard someone from Clinton’s campaign say, “It’s done. It’s finally done,” as she hugged Clinton — no more than twelve inches away from my awestricken face.
I know I’m a reporter. I know I’m supposed to be unbiased, but when you stumble into the midst of a moment like this by sheer, dumb luck, I think you get a pass on being impartial.
I’ve never been so proud of this country in my life. I’ve never felt so humbled, so speechless, and so spoiled.
A major party has finally offered America a candidate to the presidency who represent the tens of millions of Americans who aren’t white men. It’s about time. Those who know me well will vouch: I’m not a sentimental type, but as I sat there, near the floor of the Pepsi Center, basking in the afterglow of one of the greatest moments I think this nation has ever seen, my eyes were welling with tears.
I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve to luck into this opportunity.
This whole experience, from start to finish, has been categorically life-altering. I will never be the same again.
After I came back to the Post, the politics editor told me I could hold on to my floor pass, so I could watch “Bubba.” (“Bubba” is proper NY Post headline style, I believe, for Bill Clinton.) Long story short, I saw night three almost entirely from the real, honest-to-God convention floor.
Tonight proved the strongest by leaps and bounds of the three convention nights. Bill Clinton delivered a speech lambasting the Republicans and touting specific, personal qualities that would make Obama a strong president. His speech may not have been one for the history books, but it certainly served as a strong appeal to party unity.
John Kerry’s speech, which compared the contradictory views of “candidate” McCain versus Senator McCain, couldn’t have been better suited for the fallen Democratic nominee. Having seen his campaign derailed in part because of accusations of “flip-flopping,” I couldn’t have picked a better candidate to highlight some of McCain’s shifts in policy. I’ve neve thought of Kerry as a funny guy, but his willingness to act as an ironic attack dog earned tremendous points in my book.
As for Joe Biden and Barack Obama? Well, I think I’m going to devote tomorrow’s entire blog to them…so sit tightl, folks.
Annnd the fun stuff:
Post Hillary Catharsis-fest ’08 last night, I was outside the Pepsi Center with Spencer. We’d both had a full day and were ready to head home. Suddenly, we heard a British voice pierce through the air — the same voice I heard earlier in the evening when I accidentally wandered into some Daily Show taping.
JOHN OLIVER.
There he was, standing right in front of us, taping a segment: the greatest import from Liverpool since the Beatles. Naturally, I lost all power of speech. He hugged me, and I got a photo with him…which, given the illustrious assortment of politicians here, shouldn’t be the highlight of my trip. But it was. At least, until today.
I figured the odds of meeting another famous person were pretty slim.
I was blissfully wrong.
This afternoon, Kevin and I were on assignment to go around the press pavilions dropping off extra copies of the Weekly Standard (one of the most conservative magazines in the country).
Of course, the natural first step was to take the magazines to the Daily Show’s trailer. When we got close, I realized Rob Riggle was standing right in front of me. I’m so exhausted, I don’t think my body has energy to freek out like a giddy schoolgirl anymore, so instead of getting flustered like I normally would’ve, I exclaimed “You went to KU, didn’t you?”
Next thing I know, I’m handing Rob Riggle a copy of the Weekly Standard and shooting the breeze for about five minutes.
Go figure.
I just had a ringside seat to history.
It almost didn’t happen. I was sitting in my usual spot on the couch in the New York Post’s press lounge when Annie, our supervisor, approached Kevin and me.
“I think Gregg has an assignment for one of you,” she said. Turned out, Gregg, the politics editor, needed someone to gather quotes from Hillary supporters, since she would (rumor had it) call for a vote by acclamation for Barack Obama.
I almost gave up the opportunity. I’d already had the chance to watch two nights of the convention from inside the Pepsi Center, and I thought I’d give Kevin the chance to do a few interviews. But something in my gut told me I was making a mistake — after all, Kevin already had a byline. So, propelled by some kind of freakish, almost mystical force, I took the floor press pass, which Kevin graciously relinquished, and I made my way to the convention floor.
I settled into a spot in front of the New York delegation, figuring that’s where I’d want to be when Clinton made her big move. Don’t ask how I managed to squeeze in there. The states announced their votes, and around the time Kansas, my home state, hit security officers started pushing people away from the area where I was standing.
“You can stay,” they said, when I started to move. “Just don’t get in the way.”
I knew something was about to happen; I could feel it simmering inside.
The area started to flood with familiar faces — campaign coordinators…folks I’d seen in the backdrops of photos from newspaper and magazine articles featuring Hillary. Oh my God. She’s going to come right here.
New Hampshire. New Jersey. New Mexico…
Bodyguards lined up in front of me. I was pressed up against a man’s shoulder, and guy from the BBC smacked me in the head with a camera. (Accidentally, I hope.) And suddenly, I saw a sea foam green pantsuit flanked by blurs of grey. It was Hillary.
The flash bulbs from a thousand cameras burned the moment into my brain — and my retinas.
I was there when history happened. I was there, not more than six or seven yards away, when one of the greatest moments in this nation’s political history took place. I was there when Hillary Clinton, the nation’s first real female contender a major party’s nomination, officially threw her support behind and sealed the deal for the nation’s first black presidential candidate. And I was feet — FEET — away.
As the moment concluded, amidst a cacophonic explosion of applause and impassioned shouts, I heard someone from Clinton’s campaign say, “It’s done. It’s finally done,” as she hugged Clinton — no more than twelve inches away from my awestricken face.
I know I’m a reporter. I know I’m supposed to be unbiased, but when you stumble into the midst of a moment like this by sheer, dumb luck, I think you get a pass on being impartial.
I’ve never been so proud of this country in my life. I’ve never felt so humbled, so speechless, and so spoiled.
A major party has finally offered America a candidate to the presidency who represent the tens of millions of Americans who aren’t white men. It’s about time. Those who know me well will vouch: I’m not a sentimental type, but as I sat there, near the floor of the Pepsi Center, basking in the afterglow of one of the greatest moments I think this nation has ever seen, my eyes were welling with tears.
I didn’t deserve this. I didn’t deserve to luck into this opportunity.
This whole experience, from start to finish, has been categorically life-altering. I will never be the same again.
After I came back to the Post, the politics editor told me I could hold on to my floor pass, so I could watch “Bubba.” (“Bubba” is proper NY Post headline style, I believe, for Bill Clinton.) Long story short, I saw night three almost entirely from the real, honest-to-God convention floor.
Tonight proved the strongest by leaps and bounds of the three convention nights. Bill Clinton delivered a speech lambasting the Republicans and touting specific, personal qualities that would make Obama a strong president. His speech may not have been one for the history books, but it certainly served as a strong appeal to party unity.
John Kerry’s speech, which compared the contradictory views of “candidate” McCain versus Senator McCain, couldn’t have been better suited for the fallen Democratic nominee. Having seen his campaign derailed in part because of accusations of “flip-flopping,” I couldn’t have picked a better candidate to highlight some of McCain’s shifts in policy. I’ve neve thought of Kerry as a funny guy, but his willingness to act as an ironic attack dog earned tremendous points in my book.
As for Joe Biden and Barack Obama? Well, I think I’m going to devote tomorrow’s entire blog to them…so sit tightl, folks.
Annnd the fun stuff:
Post Hillary Catharsis-fest ’08 last night, I was outside the Pepsi Center with Spencer. We’d both had a full day and were ready to head home. Suddenly, we heard a British voice pierce through the air — the same voice I heard earlier in the evening when I accidentally wandered into some Daily Show taping.
JOHN OLIVER.
There he was, standing right in front of us, taping a segment: the greatest import from Liverpool since the Beatles. Naturally, I lost all power of speech. He hugged me, and I got a photo with him…which, given the illustrious assortment of politicians here, shouldn’t be the highlight of my trip. But it was. At least, until today.
I figured the odds of meeting another famous person were pretty slim.
I was blissfully wrong.
This afternoon, Kevin and I were on assignment to go around the press pavilions dropping off extra copies of the Weekly Standard (one of the most conservative magazines in the country).
Of course, the natural first step was to take the magazines to the Daily Show’s trailer. When we got close, I realized Rob Riggle was standing right in front of me. I’m so exhausted, I don’t think my body has energy to freek out like a giddy schoolgirl anymore, so instead of getting flustered like I normally would’ve, I exclaimed “You went to KU, didn’t you?”
Next thing I know, I’m handing Rob Riggle a copy of the Weekly Standard and shooting the breeze for about five minutes.
Go figure.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Hillary, Hillary, Hillary! Tuesday night in the hall.
Like last night, the first few hours were — I hate to admit it — pretty boring. It looks like things seldom pick up at these conventions until the last hour or so. Also, for the love of God, before I forget: The music here sounds like it’s being played by that cheese-tastic band from Dancing with the Stars. Nothing gets me jazzed up quite like a glorified karaoke version of “I’m so Excited.”
That brings me to a point, though. With all the famous folks in Denver this week —Oprah Winfrey, Anne Hathaway, Susan Sarandon, to name a few, and let’s not even START on all the famous bands — why can’t we get some star power on the DNC stage? Something tells me the crowd would get a little more jazzed up if the DNCC replaced just a couple City Clerks of Bumble**** with someone we’ve heard of. (Not saying we should replace everyone. I love the everyman and everywoman voices, but I also like it when the convention hall doesn’t remind me of a morgue.)
Now, that’s off my chest. On to tonight’s events…
It’s implicitly sexist to mention what female politicians look like and wear, since their male counterparts seldom receive such scrutiny…but I don’t care. Kathleen Sebelius, Governor of my home state, Kansas, looked like a goddess in her red power suit. I don’t even know how old she is, but I’ve devised a theory, She’s either captured the elixer of life, or she’s a vampire: frozen in time, incapable of aging and always looking absolutely fabulous.
It’s too bad that when it comes to speaking, Sebelius is no Obama. Otherwise, with her post-partisan politics, poise and general judgment, she’d make a hell of a presidential candidate. Unfortunately, I’ve got to admit, John Stewart had it right when he commented on her response to Bush’s last State of the Union Address:
“Hmm. Flat and boring…what state is she from again?”
However, Sebelius had one moment of unadulterated brilliance, and it’s one of my sound bytes of the day:
“I’m sure you’ve heard that girl from Kansas say, ‘There’s no place like home.’ Well, In John McCain’s case, there’s no place like home, or a home, or a home, or a home…”
Oh, Kathleen. When I grow up, I want to be you.
Keynote speaker, Governor Mark Robert Warner of Virginia, was unremarkable. (Sebelius, part deux?) I’m starting to think the Democrats are trying to lose this thing. The speechwriter gets props for clever lines, though. Some collectible sound bytes included “In four months, we’ll have an administration that believes in science” and “If an idea works, it doesn’t matter if there’s a ‘D’ or an ‘R’ next to it,” but Warner earns about a “C” grade on delivery.
As for everyone who came after Warner, with the exception of a decent speech from Massachusettes Governor Deval Patrick and a fantastic speech (finally!) from Montana Governor Barry Schweitzer (who'll probably be remembered as tonight's real keynote speaker)….
Fhhhhhhhhhhrgvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv8599ph y8t99999999999999999999999.
Oh. I’m sorry. I just fell asleep on the keyboard.
Enough teasing. Schweitzer and Patrick: great. Everyone else: dull. Now, here’s my convention observer’s perspective on Hillary Clinton’s speech.
First of all: Standing. Room. Only. You could scarcely see a single scrap of blue carpet on the convention floor. Apparently, folks were “borrowing” credentials from friends who’d already been admitted it and taking them to friends outside.
Hillary’s tribute video was enough to induce chills down the spine and tears in the eyes of even the most die-hard Obama supporter. I should know. And when Chelsea welcomed her to the stage, she was greeted with the kind of applause worthy of a presidential candidate.
Within a few, brief sentences, she introduced herself as a proud supporter of Barack Obama, following with a message of unity as a “single party with a single purpose.”
“This is a fight for the future,” she continued. “And it’s a fight we must win together.”
I know there were nay-sayers — folks who’d feared Hillary would come out swinging, but I firmly believe that Hillary Clinton is and always has been a woman of class. This is a woman who honestly wants what she believes is best for her country. Of course, she believed she’d be the best president; if she didn’t, she damned well shouldn’t have run. But tonight, she made it clear that her goal has evolved alongside the circumstances. Her task, now, is to make sure this party can fuse back together after a splintering primary. And I think tonight was a tremendous step in the healing process.
If the delegates and convention-goers offer any indication, I predict Hillary’s speech will result in a huge bump in the polls for Obama — particularly among Hillary’s supporters. The mood in the convention hall was one of the most awe-inspiring vibes I’ve ever experienced. Tonight was a night for the Democratic Party’s history books. This was an electric night with an electric speech.
Hillary (aided, slightly, by Schweitzer and Patrick) almost single-handedly lifted this night of the convention from a dull, blasé, “D”-grade evening to an A+.
Nice work, Hil.
That brings me to a point, though. With all the famous folks in Denver this week —Oprah Winfrey, Anne Hathaway, Susan Sarandon, to name a few, and let’s not even START on all the famous bands — why can’t we get some star power on the DNC stage? Something tells me the crowd would get a little more jazzed up if the DNCC replaced just a couple City Clerks of Bumble**** with someone we’ve heard of. (Not saying we should replace everyone. I love the everyman and everywoman voices, but I also like it when the convention hall doesn’t remind me of a morgue.)
Now, that’s off my chest. On to tonight’s events…
It’s implicitly sexist to mention what female politicians look like and wear, since their male counterparts seldom receive such scrutiny…but I don’t care. Kathleen Sebelius, Governor of my home state, Kansas, looked like a goddess in her red power suit. I don’t even know how old she is, but I’ve devised a theory, She’s either captured the elixer of life, or she’s a vampire: frozen in time, incapable of aging and always looking absolutely fabulous.
It’s too bad that when it comes to speaking, Sebelius is no Obama. Otherwise, with her post-partisan politics, poise and general judgment, she’d make a hell of a presidential candidate. Unfortunately, I’ve got to admit, John Stewart had it right when he commented on her response to Bush’s last State of the Union Address:
“Hmm. Flat and boring…what state is she from again?”
However, Sebelius had one moment of unadulterated brilliance, and it’s one of my sound bytes of the day:
“I’m sure you’ve heard that girl from Kansas say, ‘There’s no place like home.’ Well, In John McCain’s case, there’s no place like home, or a home, or a home, or a home…”
Oh, Kathleen. When I grow up, I want to be you.
Keynote speaker, Governor Mark Robert Warner of Virginia, was unremarkable. (Sebelius, part deux?) I’m starting to think the Democrats are trying to lose this thing. The speechwriter gets props for clever lines, though. Some collectible sound bytes included “In four months, we’ll have an administration that believes in science” and “If an idea works, it doesn’t matter if there’s a ‘D’ or an ‘R’ next to it,” but Warner earns about a “C” grade on delivery.
As for everyone who came after Warner, with the exception of a decent speech from Massachusettes Governor Deval Patrick and a fantastic speech (finally!) from Montana Governor Barry Schweitzer (who'll probably be remembered as tonight's real keynote speaker)….
Fhhhhhhhhhhrgvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv8599ph y8t99999999999999999999999.
Oh. I’m sorry. I just fell asleep on the keyboard.
Enough teasing. Schweitzer and Patrick: great. Everyone else: dull. Now, here’s my convention observer’s perspective on Hillary Clinton’s speech.
First of all: Standing. Room. Only. You could scarcely see a single scrap of blue carpet on the convention floor. Apparently, folks were “borrowing” credentials from friends who’d already been admitted it and taking them to friends outside.
Hillary’s tribute video was enough to induce chills down the spine and tears in the eyes of even the most die-hard Obama supporter. I should know. And when Chelsea welcomed her to the stage, she was greeted with the kind of applause worthy of a presidential candidate.
Within a few, brief sentences, she introduced herself as a proud supporter of Barack Obama, following with a message of unity as a “single party with a single purpose.”
“This is a fight for the future,” she continued. “And it’s a fight we must win together.”
I know there were nay-sayers — folks who’d feared Hillary would come out swinging, but I firmly believe that Hillary Clinton is and always has been a woman of class. This is a woman who honestly wants what she believes is best for her country. Of course, she believed she’d be the best president; if she didn’t, she damned well shouldn’t have run. But tonight, she made it clear that her goal has evolved alongside the circumstances. Her task, now, is to make sure this party can fuse back together after a splintering primary. And I think tonight was a tremendous step in the healing process.
If the delegates and convention-goers offer any indication, I predict Hillary’s speech will result in a huge bump in the polls for Obama — particularly among Hillary’s supporters. The mood in the convention hall was one of the most awe-inspiring vibes I’ve ever experienced. Tonight was a night for the Democratic Party’s history books. This was an electric night with an electric speech.
Hillary (aided, slightly, by Schweitzer and Patrick) almost single-handedly lifted this night of the convention from a dull, blasé, “D”-grade evening to an A+.
Nice work, Hil.
Best day ever. Again.
Each day here proves a little better than the one before it, if that’s even possible. I’m starting to worry that I’ve reached the pinnacle of my life. Everything’s headed downhill from here.
My NY Post supervisor told the interns not to worry about coming in until our Washington Center speakers wrapped up, since mornings at the convention site are proving to be awfully slow. Fortunately for me, lots of Washington Center kids have been skipping out on the speakers. I know that probably seems like an odd thing to call fortunate, but the scant crowd helped me chip away at my goal of rubbing elbows with folks who could help me out with a career in politics or journalism. Here’s why…
Well, when our first speaker — a pollster — couldn’t come in today, his replacement turned out to be the front page editor of the Washington Post. Since there were so few people there, I had a chance to briefly pick his brain about internships. Long story short, I got his business card, and he told me to e-mail him for advice on how to maximize my chances of nabbing a Post internship (Washington, not New York ☺).
As if that wasn’t enough, the security line was abnormally quick today, and when I got in to the NY Post’s office, I was the first intern here, and I actually (gasp) got an assignment. (I know, right?) Gregg, the politics editor, told me to go out and talk to delegates for their opinions on the oh-so-adorable Obama daughters’ appearance last night. Turns out, I beat the other interns to the office by a grand total of five minutes. They ended up having to embark on yet another multi-hour excursion to get food for the staff while I gathered quotes, earning a “Rebecca Delaney contributed to this report” tagline.
Oh, and: I lucked my way into another hall pass for tonight’s convention speakers, including Hillary Clinton and Kathleen Sebelius (my home state’s governor!), so look for a post late tonight/early tomorrow evening!
Also, random, but: Did I mention they have free beer in the press tent?
I haven’t touched it…but this place is ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
Tuesday’s Speakers:
Today’s “youth vote” panel, featuring a representative from Rock the Vote, didn’t really offer much to write home about. So I won’t write home about it.
Besides, I don’t place much stock in for Rock the Vote. MTV’s fairly delusional about the age demographic to which it truly appeals. The vast majority of kids Rock the Vote manages to engage and empower are, as far as I know, barely old enough to get into PG-13 movies, let alone vote. Last night’s Rock the Vote concert featured Fall Out Boy, an alt-pop-rock band whose listening demographic comprises mostly tweens…making them a less-then-effective headlining act to help mobilize the 18-29 masses.
Rock the Vote’s cause is a noble one, sure, but I think they’d be more effective if the campaign acknowledged that its real success rests in its ability to prime kids who can’t vote yet, making them salivate in anticipation of the day they’ll be able to hit the polls. Right now, an awful lot of energy seems like it’s being poured into a message that could be better catered to the ears upon which that message actually falls.
That’s my rant.
Our other speaker (that I got to see) was Vince Bzdek, the Washington Post’s front page editor. Obviously you know I like him, since I bugged him enough to snag a business card, but I had good reason to be impressed.
Like T.R. Reed, Bzdek was refreshingly honest. I especially appreciated his response to my question: How will the advent of blogging, which is far more opinionated than traditional, daily newspaper journalism, impact the newspaper field?
Bzdek admitted he didn’t really know how blurry the distinction between opinion and news would grow, thanks to blogs, before the Washington Post and other outlets would find a way to keep the two safely separated. He mentioned that the Post’s newspaper office quite literally separated its news and opinion departments with a glass wall, offering a “separation of church and state”, of sorts. But, he added, that’s not the way the web department does it. We’ll have to come up with a solution, though…and soon. The Post — and countless of other papers nationwide — are quickly consolidating their offices as paper sales decline and web readership accelerates.
The hope, he said, is that once the blog novelty wears off, things will naturally shake out into a stratified structure of journalistic credibility with traditional, objective reports at the top and blogs hovering somewhere below.
Bzdek also complimented the DNC’s first evening, giving them high marks for unpredictability and praising Ted Kennedy’s surprise appearance. He echoed a common refrain from Washington Center lectures and readings: Conventions are boring, pre-determined and predictable. Speakers are lined up in advance with their speeches issued to press outlets before anyone even takes the stage. We all know the nominee, and no one gives a flapping hoot about the party’s platform. (Last night, when Nancy Pelosi called for delegates to respond with an “Aye” in favor of the 2008 Democratic platform, delegates lackadaisically and drunkenly hollered in response. I bet about two of them actually read what that platform included. I sure didn’t.)
Tonight was special, Bzdek said, because of the element of unpredictability and the historical flavor of both Kennedy’s speeches. I have to agree; I think the Kennedy family’s speeches will prove some of the most memorable moments of the entire convention.
My NY Post supervisor told the interns not to worry about coming in until our Washington Center speakers wrapped up, since mornings at the convention site are proving to be awfully slow. Fortunately for me, lots of Washington Center kids have been skipping out on the speakers. I know that probably seems like an odd thing to call fortunate, but the scant crowd helped me chip away at my goal of rubbing elbows with folks who could help me out with a career in politics or journalism. Here’s why…
Well, when our first speaker — a pollster — couldn’t come in today, his replacement turned out to be the front page editor of the Washington Post. Since there were so few people there, I had a chance to briefly pick his brain about internships. Long story short, I got his business card, and he told me to e-mail him for advice on how to maximize my chances of nabbing a Post internship (Washington, not New York ☺).
As if that wasn’t enough, the security line was abnormally quick today, and when I got in to the NY Post’s office, I was the first intern here, and I actually (gasp) got an assignment. (I know, right?) Gregg, the politics editor, told me to go out and talk to delegates for their opinions on the oh-so-adorable Obama daughters’ appearance last night. Turns out, I beat the other interns to the office by a grand total of five minutes. They ended up having to embark on yet another multi-hour excursion to get food for the staff while I gathered quotes, earning a “Rebecca Delaney contributed to this report” tagline.
Oh, and: I lucked my way into another hall pass for tonight’s convention speakers, including Hillary Clinton and Kathleen Sebelius (my home state’s governor!), so look for a post late tonight/early tomorrow evening!
Also, random, but: Did I mention they have free beer in the press tent?
I haven’t touched it…but this place is ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.
Tuesday’s Speakers:
Today’s “youth vote” panel, featuring a representative from Rock the Vote, didn’t really offer much to write home about. So I won’t write home about it.
Besides, I don’t place much stock in for Rock the Vote. MTV’s fairly delusional about the age demographic to which it truly appeals. The vast majority of kids Rock the Vote manages to engage and empower are, as far as I know, barely old enough to get into PG-13 movies, let alone vote. Last night’s Rock the Vote concert featured Fall Out Boy, an alt-pop-rock band whose listening demographic comprises mostly tweens…making them a less-then-effective headlining act to help mobilize the 18-29 masses.
Rock the Vote’s cause is a noble one, sure, but I think they’d be more effective if the campaign acknowledged that its real success rests in its ability to prime kids who can’t vote yet, making them salivate in anticipation of the day they’ll be able to hit the polls. Right now, an awful lot of energy seems like it’s being poured into a message that could be better catered to the ears upon which that message actually falls.
That’s my rant.
Our other speaker (that I got to see) was Vince Bzdek, the Washington Post’s front page editor. Obviously you know I like him, since I bugged him enough to snag a business card, but I had good reason to be impressed.
Like T.R. Reed, Bzdek was refreshingly honest. I especially appreciated his response to my question: How will the advent of blogging, which is far more opinionated than traditional, daily newspaper journalism, impact the newspaper field?
Bzdek admitted he didn’t really know how blurry the distinction between opinion and news would grow, thanks to blogs, before the Washington Post and other outlets would find a way to keep the two safely separated. He mentioned that the Post’s newspaper office quite literally separated its news and opinion departments with a glass wall, offering a “separation of church and state”, of sorts. But, he added, that’s not the way the web department does it. We’ll have to come up with a solution, though…and soon. The Post — and countless of other papers nationwide — are quickly consolidating their offices as paper sales decline and web readership accelerates.
The hope, he said, is that once the blog novelty wears off, things will naturally shake out into a stratified structure of journalistic credibility with traditional, objective reports at the top and blogs hovering somewhere below.
Bzdek also complimented the DNC’s first evening, giving them high marks for unpredictability and praising Ted Kennedy’s surprise appearance. He echoed a common refrain from Washington Center lectures and readings: Conventions are boring, pre-determined and predictable. Speakers are lined up in advance with their speeches issued to press outlets before anyone even takes the stage. We all know the nominee, and no one gives a flapping hoot about the party’s platform. (Last night, when Nancy Pelosi called for delegates to respond with an “Aye” in favor of the 2008 Democratic platform, delegates lackadaisically and drunkenly hollered in response. I bet about two of them actually read what that platform included. I sure didn’t.)
Tonight was special, Bzdek said, because of the element of unpredictability and the historical flavor of both Kennedy’s speeches. I have to agree; I think the Kennedy family’s speeches will prove some of the most memorable moments of the entire convention.
Opening Night!
Thanks to our professor, Sandy Davidson, I got my paws on a hall pass for tonight’s speakers. I knew this would probably be my only chance to get inside the Pepsi Center, so I seized the opportunity.
I was seated up in the nosebleed section, somewhere between the rafters and Pluto — but when you’re at the Democratic National Convention, you’ll settle for a seat somewhere in the next galaxy if you have to.
The Obama campaign is definitely doing everything it can push an all-American hero image. Tonight, the task was clear: Introduce the world to Barack Obama as a simultaneous everyman and champion, epitomizing one of the many dichotomies we Americans expect of a president. Obama was presented as a selfless man who took a $10,000-a-year job as a community organizer on the south side of Chicago when he could’ve written his own ticket to any firm on Wall Street. At the same time, he was painted as a witty guy with a “funny name” who had to ask his wife out several times before she’d even agree to let him take her on a date.
Complimenting the “American dream” image were a compilation of speakers drawn mostly from Obama’s personal life and his past as a community organizer and Illinois politician.
As much as I love Obama, and as inspiring as I personally find his biography, I’m worried. Obama’s tale is a fascinating one, but the shallow depth to which his Chicago and Illinois speakers delved was painfully apparent.
Don’t get me wrong. As far as I’m concerned, character and principle are the far better indicators of a candidate’s potential success than experience, so long as the leader surrounds himself with a competent, seasoned staff (hello, Biden!) I mean, come on. Nixon was an incredibly seasoned president, and look where he wound up.
But I wouldn’t be surprised if McCain’s people have already jumped on a “Was that the best you could do?” spin campaign. If I weren’t so mentally and physically exhausted, I’d check the political blogs for whispers (or, heck, outright shouts) from the McCain folks already.
Anywayt, one of the brightee spots of the evening was Missouri’s prominent place in the convention spotlight. Not only did Obama watch the campaign from Kansas City (home of yours truly AND Obama-Bayh Bumpersticker-Gate ’08), Missouri Senator Claire McCaskill provided the main segue into Michelle’s headlining speech.
Sure, for those familiar with Obama’s stump speeches, McCaskill’s address sounded like an amalgamation of every campaign catch-phrase Obama’s used over the last 18 months or so, but that didn’t matter. Our girl was in the spotlight. Even the major networks, which over the last several decades have pared down their coverage from gavel-to-gavel to an hour or so each night, carried McCaskill’s speech.
I was especially pleased to see McCaskill’s kids introduce their mom. The story of McCaskilll’s daughter telling mom to speak up for Obama is next to legendary among Missouri’s political junkies, and given Obama’s youth appeal, I think it made great a great story for the national stage. Overall, I’d give McCaskill a “B” grade for her speech — much better than most of the speakers, but light years behind Ted Kennedy, Jesse Jackson, Jr., and Michelle Obama, all of whom delivered speeches that managed to resuscitate a depressingly comatose crowd.
And Michelle, Michelle, Michelle. If ever there were a lady who screams “FIRST LADY” (or hell, president), she’s the woman. You could tell she had to swallow about a half-second’s worth of nerves, but once she got going, she delivered one of the most genuine speeches I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing in person. Nothing she said felt the least bit contrived or calculated. Her tip of the hat to Hillary Clinton was especially genuine. I won’t even try to describe her address, because I know I can’t do her justice. Do yourself a favor, and look her speech up on YouTube. You can thank me later ☺.
The pinnacle moment of the evening, for me (other than Ted Kennedy’s “surprise” appearance), was the moment when we saw the whole Obama family onstage, with dad appearing via satellite. If Obama pulls this election off, I have a feeling this moment is the one political scientists may well look back on years from now as the turning when the country finally accepted Obama.
The whole scene made me feel like I was privy to a sneak peak of an Obama family phone call, when daddy’s away on the campaign trail. And when Obama accidentally said he was in St. Louis instead of Kansas City (something this KC-native noticed right away), his daughter’s “Where are you again, daddy?” (winner of my personal sound byte of the day) comment quite literally saved Barack from a major gaffe. Had the Obama ladies let the city-slipup slide, I could easily have seen the McCain campaign jumping all over the little mistake, using it as a way to balance out McCain’s “oops” moment when he couldn’t recall how many houses he had.
Instead, the Obama women kept dad straight. We got a glimpse of a truly presidential family, where even the littlest ones have a stake — even if it’s just reminding a campaign-weathered daddy which city he’s in.
I was seated up in the nosebleed section, somewhere between the rafters and Pluto — but when you’re at the Democratic National Convention, you’ll settle for a seat somewhere in the next galaxy if you have to.
The Obama campaign is definitely doing everything it can push an all-American hero image. Tonight, the task was clear: Introduce the world to Barack Obama as a simultaneous everyman and champion, epitomizing one of the many dichotomies we Americans expect of a president. Obama was presented as a selfless man who took a $10,000-a-year job as a community organizer on the south side of Chicago when he could’ve written his own ticket to any firm on Wall Street. At the same time, he was painted as a witty guy with a “funny name” who had to ask his wife out several times before she’d even agree to let him take her on a date.
Complimenting the “American dream” image were a compilation of speakers drawn mostly from Obama’s personal life and his past as a community organizer and Illinois politician.
As much as I love Obama, and as inspiring as I personally find his biography, I’m worried. Obama’s tale is a fascinating one, but the shallow depth to which his Chicago and Illinois speakers delved was painfully apparent.
Don’t get me wrong. As far as I’m concerned, character and principle are the far better indicators of a candidate’s potential success than experience, so long as the leader surrounds himself with a competent, seasoned staff (hello, Biden!) I mean, come on. Nixon was an incredibly seasoned president, and look where he wound up.
But I wouldn’t be surprised if McCain’s people have already jumped on a “Was that the best you could do?” spin campaign. If I weren’t so mentally and physically exhausted, I’d check the political blogs for whispers (or, heck, outright shouts) from the McCain folks already.
Anywayt, one of the brightee spots of the evening was Missouri’s prominent place in the convention spotlight. Not only did Obama watch the campaign from Kansas City (home of yours truly AND Obama-Bayh Bumpersticker-Gate ’08), Missouri Senator Claire McCaskill provided the main segue into Michelle’s headlining speech.
Sure, for those familiar with Obama’s stump speeches, McCaskill’s address sounded like an amalgamation of every campaign catch-phrase Obama’s used over the last 18 months or so, but that didn’t matter. Our girl was in the spotlight. Even the major networks, which over the last several decades have pared down their coverage from gavel-to-gavel to an hour or so each night, carried McCaskill’s speech.
I was especially pleased to see McCaskill’s kids introduce their mom. The story of McCaskilll’s daughter telling mom to speak up for Obama is next to legendary among Missouri’s political junkies, and given Obama’s youth appeal, I think it made great a great story for the national stage. Overall, I’d give McCaskill a “B” grade for her speech — much better than most of the speakers, but light years behind Ted Kennedy, Jesse Jackson, Jr., and Michelle Obama, all of whom delivered speeches that managed to resuscitate a depressingly comatose crowd.
And Michelle, Michelle, Michelle. If ever there were a lady who screams “FIRST LADY” (or hell, president), she’s the woman. You could tell she had to swallow about a half-second’s worth of nerves, but once she got going, she delivered one of the most genuine speeches I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing in person. Nothing she said felt the least bit contrived or calculated. Her tip of the hat to Hillary Clinton was especially genuine. I won’t even try to describe her address, because I know I can’t do her justice. Do yourself a favor, and look her speech up on YouTube. You can thank me later ☺.
The pinnacle moment of the evening, for me (other than Ted Kennedy’s “surprise” appearance), was the moment when we saw the whole Obama family onstage, with dad appearing via satellite. If Obama pulls this election off, I have a feeling this moment is the one political scientists may well look back on years from now as the turning when the country finally accepted Obama.
The whole scene made me feel like I was privy to a sneak peak of an Obama family phone call, when daddy’s away on the campaign trail. And when Obama accidentally said he was in St. Louis instead of Kansas City (something this KC-native noticed right away), his daughter’s “Where are you again, daddy?” (winner of my personal sound byte of the day) comment quite literally saved Barack from a major gaffe. Had the Obama ladies let the city-slipup slide, I could easily have seen the McCain campaign jumping all over the little mistake, using it as a way to balance out McCain’s “oops” moment when he couldn’t recall how many houses he had.
Instead, the Obama women kept dad straight. We got a glimpse of a truly presidential family, where even the littlest ones have a stake — even if it’s just reminding a campaign-weathered daddy which city he’s in.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Let the games begin
The convention’s underway!
Already spotted today: Arianna Huffington, who looked at Kevin and I like we’d just shot her puppy when we smiled at her, and Rev. Al Sharpton, who wins an award for most gracious man ever. The man was on his cell phone and still posed for photos with star-struck reporters who spotted him while waiting in line at the first press checkpoint.
Notice I mentioned “first” press checkpoint. There are two, now; an initial checkpoint’s been erected — perhaps to keep the protestors from backing security up for hours on end again. But let’s be honest, here: so long as the protestors remain non-violent, I’d rather see them up close to the action.
Protest is the lifeblood of the Democratic party. The Democrats are — or at one point, were — the party of passion, dissent, and progress. As obnoxious as these protestors have proven on a personal level, I want to see them up close and personal. I want to know that the Democrats are receptive to discord. In a two-party system like ours, at least one party had better voice up, or at least listen to, the discontented. Otherwise, to me, “democracy” describes America about as well as “Fair and Balanced” describes Fox News.
Enough of my idealistic ramblings. I just found out I’ve got a hall pass for tonight’s speakers. Nancy Pelosi, Michelle Obama and Claire McCaskill, here I come! Obviously, I’ll have more on tonight’s events later.
Already spotted today: Arianna Huffington, who looked at Kevin and I like we’d just shot her puppy when we smiled at her, and Rev. Al Sharpton, who wins an award for most gracious man ever. The man was on his cell phone and still posed for photos with star-struck reporters who spotted him while waiting in line at the first press checkpoint.
Notice I mentioned “first” press checkpoint. There are two, now; an initial checkpoint’s been erected — perhaps to keep the protestors from backing security up for hours on end again. But let’s be honest, here: so long as the protestors remain non-violent, I’d rather see them up close to the action.
Protest is the lifeblood of the Democratic party. The Democrats are — or at one point, were — the party of passion, dissent, and progress. As obnoxious as these protestors have proven on a personal level, I want to see them up close and personal. I want to know that the Democrats are receptive to discord. In a two-party system like ours, at least one party had better voice up, or at least listen to, the discontented. Otherwise, to me, “democracy” describes America about as well as “Fair and Balanced” describes Fox News.
Enough of my idealistic ramblings. I just found out I’ve got a hall pass for tonight’s speakers. Nancy Pelosi, Michelle Obama and Claire McCaskill, here I come! Obviously, I’ll have more on tonight’s events later.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Don't lower your expectations after all
As it turns out, the New York Post doesn’t have a problem with us talking about our fieldwork. The main rules are pretty standard: Don’t talk about stories and private conversations, and don’t get too personal. Seems simple enough.
The other interns — Kevin and Jaclyn — and I got up at the crack of dawn, ate as much breakfast as we could get in our mouths between yawns, and headed to the Pepsi Center via cab around 9 a.m.
It took all of 2 minutes to get through security, since things were pretty dead. Keep in mind, the media party was last night, and a good chunk of the press crowd was still, you know, recovering, I’d imagine. Once we got to our pavilion, we sat down and waited for our supervisor, Annie, who we’d agreed to meet between 9 and 10.
[Insert six-hour, vacuous gap here.]
It was nearly 4 p.m. by the time Annie made it through security, where the wait in line had exploded from our 2 minutes to somewhere more in the 2-hour ballpark. We found out later that, while we were sitting around getting cabin fever in our press lot, a crew of nonviolent but über-disruptive protestors (Recreate ’68?) had gathered outside the security entrance, shutting down traffic and seriously delaying folks who were trying to get inside.
Though the nonviolent protest confirmed the hunch I gleaned yesterday — that these so-called anarchists are here to make political statements rather than headlines for inciting police brutality — those guys single-handedly made three New York Post interns start to question their collective sanity.
We waited, and waited, and waited, and when we were done waiting, we waited some more. Annie’s an extremely busy woman, so we stayed put, well aware that she needed us at the press lot to take care of phone connections, internet hookups and to greet assorted visitors who’d occasionally drop by looking to exchange pins. (Here, state/news outlet/miscellaneous pins are a little like currency — you can trade ‘em for anything from another pin to private party access.)
We sat on the blue suede couches in our press lot’s makeshift lounge, bonding while we wondered aloud how much longer we’d be sitting around getting fieldwork credit for doing nothing.
By 11 or so, we started getting slap-happy. I devised a theory: Rupert Murdoch got bored this morning and decided it’d be fun to watch three interns slowly go insane, so he stuck us in an all-but-empty, isolated press lot all by ourselves with no idea how to answer simple questions like “Where’s Annie?” and “How many speech texts do you need?”
I envisioned Murdoch watching live feed from a secret camera in the press lot, drumming his fingers together slowly and laughing maniacally.
We started playing tic-tac-toe in the suede, rubbing lines and X’s and O’s into the fabric. I wandered around the press lot, strategically contorting my body while holding my laptop in an effort to somehow get hold of a wireless Internet connection. We ate candy, attempted to nap, and, when we were feeling really naughty, got up to get a drink from the vending machine or use the bathroom. But nothing, nothing, could cure the boredom.
It didn’t matter. The three of us were so happy to be at the heart of the convention, surrounded by reporters we’ve idolized since we were old enough to understand the whole “media” thing, no amount of boredom, however prolonged and paralyzing, could really get us down.
Once Annie arrived, things rocketed uphill fast. Apart from a 1/3-mile stint schlepping relatively light boxes from a major intersection, through security to the press lot, the rest of the day was wonderful.
We met the Post’s political editor and a cluster of reporters. Later, when I was walking with Kevin to deliver a press pass to one of the staffers, I walked right past an incredibly familiar looking man with thinning strawberry-blonde hair and dignified, handsome face. I couldn’t for the life of me remember who he was, but I knew he looked familiar, so I flashed a painfully awkward smile. Looking rather thrilled to be recognized, he returned the favor.
“That’s Paul Begala!” Kevin whispered.
“Who?”
About 30 minutes later, when I saw the same man on television I realized who Paul Begala was: a CNN pundit and former Bill Clinton advisor with a sassy sense of humor. Actually, he’s one of my favorite CNN pundits…but apparently, I can’t recognize the man out of context. Nice one, Rebecca.
After cheerfully going about a few more hours of less-than-glamorous intern work, Annie offered to treat Kevin, Jaclyn and I to dinner. Won’t say too much about what happened there because frankly, the dinner conversation was too hilarious to really capture in writing. But the main highlight? Annie said we’re some of the best interns she’s had, and she’s working on getting the three of us some kind of article(s) to work on.
I guess the The Washington Center’s mantra, “Lower your expectations,” is working out. I’d set mine so low, I didn’t realize that lugging office supplies around with a smile on my face (because, hell, I’m happy to be there!) could get me a byline in the oldest continuously printed paper in the nation.
It was a good day.
And I got a hundred bucks ☺.
The other interns — Kevin and Jaclyn — and I got up at the crack of dawn, ate as much breakfast as we could get in our mouths between yawns, and headed to the Pepsi Center via cab around 9 a.m.
It took all of 2 minutes to get through security, since things were pretty dead. Keep in mind, the media party was last night, and a good chunk of the press crowd was still, you know, recovering, I’d imagine. Once we got to our pavilion, we sat down and waited for our supervisor, Annie, who we’d agreed to meet between 9 and 10.
[Insert six-hour, vacuous gap here.]
It was nearly 4 p.m. by the time Annie made it through security, where the wait in line had exploded from our 2 minutes to somewhere more in the 2-hour ballpark. We found out later that, while we were sitting around getting cabin fever in our press lot, a crew of nonviolent but über-disruptive protestors (Recreate ’68?) had gathered outside the security entrance, shutting down traffic and seriously delaying folks who were trying to get inside.
Though the nonviolent protest confirmed the hunch I gleaned yesterday — that these so-called anarchists are here to make political statements rather than headlines for inciting police brutality — those guys single-handedly made three New York Post interns start to question their collective sanity.
We waited, and waited, and waited, and when we were done waiting, we waited some more. Annie’s an extremely busy woman, so we stayed put, well aware that she needed us at the press lot to take care of phone connections, internet hookups and to greet assorted visitors who’d occasionally drop by looking to exchange pins. (Here, state/news outlet/miscellaneous pins are a little like currency — you can trade ‘em for anything from another pin to private party access.)
We sat on the blue suede couches in our press lot’s makeshift lounge, bonding while we wondered aloud how much longer we’d be sitting around getting fieldwork credit for doing nothing.
By 11 or so, we started getting slap-happy. I devised a theory: Rupert Murdoch got bored this morning and decided it’d be fun to watch three interns slowly go insane, so he stuck us in an all-but-empty, isolated press lot all by ourselves with no idea how to answer simple questions like “Where’s Annie?” and “How many speech texts do you need?”
I envisioned Murdoch watching live feed from a secret camera in the press lot, drumming his fingers together slowly and laughing maniacally.
We started playing tic-tac-toe in the suede, rubbing lines and X’s and O’s into the fabric. I wandered around the press lot, strategically contorting my body while holding my laptop in an effort to somehow get hold of a wireless Internet connection. We ate candy, attempted to nap, and, when we were feeling really naughty, got up to get a drink from the vending machine or use the bathroom. But nothing, nothing, could cure the boredom.
It didn’t matter. The three of us were so happy to be at the heart of the convention, surrounded by reporters we’ve idolized since we were old enough to understand the whole “media” thing, no amount of boredom, however prolonged and paralyzing, could really get us down.
Once Annie arrived, things rocketed uphill fast. Apart from a 1/3-mile stint schlepping relatively light boxes from a major intersection, through security to the press lot, the rest of the day was wonderful.
We met the Post’s political editor and a cluster of reporters. Later, when I was walking with Kevin to deliver a press pass to one of the staffers, I walked right past an incredibly familiar looking man with thinning strawberry-blonde hair and dignified, handsome face. I couldn’t for the life of me remember who he was, but I knew he looked familiar, so I flashed a painfully awkward smile. Looking rather thrilled to be recognized, he returned the favor.
“That’s Paul Begala!” Kevin whispered.
“Who?”
About 30 minutes later, when I saw the same man on television I realized who Paul Begala was: a CNN pundit and former Bill Clinton advisor with a sassy sense of humor. Actually, he’s one of my favorite CNN pundits…but apparently, I can’t recognize the man out of context. Nice one, Rebecca.
After cheerfully going about a few more hours of less-than-glamorous intern work, Annie offered to treat Kevin, Jaclyn and I to dinner. Won’t say too much about what happened there because frankly, the dinner conversation was too hilarious to really capture in writing. But the main highlight? Annie said we’re some of the best interns she’s had, and she’s working on getting the three of us some kind of article(s) to work on.
I guess the The Washington Center’s mantra, “Lower your expectations,” is working out. I’d set mine so low, I didn’t realize that lugging office supplies around with a smile on my face (because, hell, I’m happy to be there!) could get me a byline in the oldest continuously printed paper in the nation.
It was a good day.
And I got a hundred bucks ☺.
This CAN'T be real
Today was surreal — the kind of day when you spend a half your time soaking everything in and the other half thinking about how you’ll never forget everything you’ve…soaked?
The day kicked off with an excursion to a tranquil park tucked between congested strips of asphalt, just in front of Colorado’s capitol. Spencer and I had been searching for a drug law protest rally, figuring it’d make for some good blog fodder. The rally was nowhere to be found; all we saw was a handful of weathered ex-hippies carting a giant “Free Our Weed” banner up the capitol steps. (Police asked them to leave about two minutes after they’d reached the top.)
Gee. Who’d have thought folks organizing drug protests would have a hard time getting their shit together?
Alas: No story there, but we stumbled upon something infinitely cooler instead. We noticed a cluster of neo-flower children and psychobilly fans flocked by a small handful of news crews, so went to explore. As it turned out, we found he already-infamous Recreate ’68 crew.
For all the negative press these guys are getting, they’re awfully tame. Today’s events? A lesson for the public on what rights protesters have, how not to overstep those rights, and mostly, how to keep out of legal trouble.
One role-playing scenario featured an undercover cop/”provocateur”, a demonstrator and a second, hidden police officer. The scene played something like this:
Undercover cop: “Hey, man. Saw you at some of those protests. How you doing? Wanna help me throw this mailbox through the Niketown window?”
Demonstrator: “Okay.”
(Pair proceeded to go for the imaginary mailbox.)
Hidden cop: “You’re under arrest.”
Demonstrator: “Bummer.”
…A brief explanation of what went wrong ensued. Organizers reminded the audience — a crowd of about 30, mosty kids in band t-shirts and tattooed old guys who looked like they’ve spent their fair share of time riding Harleys — not to break the law in the first place. They followed with a series on tips to avoid getting a charge penciled on a rap sheet. (Don’t give the cops a fake name; ask if you’re being detained, and if you are, keep your mouth shut until you speak to a lawyer, etc.) Suffice it to say, from all appearances, Recreate ’68 seems to be far more interested in reprising a youth-driven peace movement than bringing back the violence and brutality of the 1968 Chicago convention.
We’ll see. I could be completely wrong.
Fieldwork:
Censored :).
Elitch Gardens, or: The Least Ethical Place on Earth!
One of the first things reporters are told at the Columbia Missourian is a warning: Don’t take gifts. In essence, don’t let sources buy positive spin from you. Now, in Columbia, folks don’t necessarily have cash to throw at 19-year-old reporters to garner positive press about their latest planning and zoning proposal.
It’s a whole ‘nother ball game out here.
The Elitch Gardens Media Party was nothing short of Pleasure Island. As Emily said, you had to wonder if at some point, we’d all turn into donkeys. Now, since I’m not actually reporting on anything, here, I indulged…but the whole time, I was thinking, “MY GOD. My professors would be so disappointed.”
Free admission. Free rides. Free games. Free prizes. Free food.
Free beer.
It was almost disgusting, really, watching members of the media get drunk for free and make off-color comments about how the DNC bought their spin. Oh, wait. That was me.
More than once tonight, I stopped and exclaimed: This is the greatest night of my life. I doubt I’ll ever get these kind of perks again, and if I do, it’s going to take a hell of a lot of scraping my way up rungs of a political or journalistic ladder.
We ran around Elitch Gardens, hopping on roller coasters and dashing to various food kiosks grabbing cotton candy, funnel cakes and Dippin’ Dots. (Incidentally, those things are like $6 a pop when you actually pay for them.)
In the beer garden, you didn’t even have to leave your seat. Volunteers brought snacks straight to you — bizarre pasty puffs stuffed with some kind of cream cheese, gourmet pretzel bites, mini chicken empanadas, the most decadent brownie bites in the universe.
Outside, strategically selected 80s tunes pumped through the theme park, punctuating the mania wih new wave beats designed to appeal to folks in the average demographic in attendance. (I figure the average reporter there probably went to college in the mid-80’s.)
And the free drinks. Oh, the free drinks…served in biodegradable plastic cups made out of ethanol, since the convention’s going green this year. God bless America.
As the evening drew to a close, fireworks erupted from three directions. The uber-patriotic, red-white-and-blue display lasted a good 10 or 15 minutes. At one point, a gorgeous British photographer came up to our cluster of girls and commented on the display. We decided the DNC hired him to make all the young, female reporters swoon.
It was a hell of an unforgettable night. Our speakers thus far weren’t kidding: the media is the sole dicator of the convention’s success. And based on tonight, let me tell you: The Democrats certainly know who ultimately butters their bread.
The day kicked off with an excursion to a tranquil park tucked between congested strips of asphalt, just in front of Colorado’s capitol. Spencer and I had been searching for a drug law protest rally, figuring it’d make for some good blog fodder. The rally was nowhere to be found; all we saw was a handful of weathered ex-hippies carting a giant “Free Our Weed” banner up the capitol steps. (Police asked them to leave about two minutes after they’d reached the top.)
Gee. Who’d have thought folks organizing drug protests would have a hard time getting their shit together?
Alas: No story there, but we stumbled upon something infinitely cooler instead. We noticed a cluster of neo-flower children and psychobilly fans flocked by a small handful of news crews, so went to explore. As it turned out, we found he already-infamous Recreate ’68 crew.
For all the negative press these guys are getting, they’re awfully tame. Today’s events? A lesson for the public on what rights protesters have, how not to overstep those rights, and mostly, how to keep out of legal trouble.
One role-playing scenario featured an undercover cop/”provocateur”, a demonstrator and a second, hidden police officer. The scene played something like this:
Undercover cop: “Hey, man. Saw you at some of those protests. How you doing? Wanna help me throw this mailbox through the Niketown window?”
Demonstrator: “Okay.”
(Pair proceeded to go for the imaginary mailbox.)
Hidden cop: “You’re under arrest.”
Demonstrator: “Bummer.”
…A brief explanation of what went wrong ensued. Organizers reminded the audience — a crowd of about 30, mosty kids in band t-shirts and tattooed old guys who looked like they’ve spent their fair share of time riding Harleys — not to break the law in the first place. They followed with a series on tips to avoid getting a charge penciled on a rap sheet. (Don’t give the cops a fake name; ask if you’re being detained, and if you are, keep your mouth shut until you speak to a lawyer, etc.) Suffice it to say, from all appearances, Recreate ’68 seems to be far more interested in reprising a youth-driven peace movement than bringing back the violence and brutality of the 1968 Chicago convention.
We’ll see. I could be completely wrong.
Fieldwork:
Censored :).
Elitch Gardens, or: The Least Ethical Place on Earth!
One of the first things reporters are told at the Columbia Missourian is a warning: Don’t take gifts. In essence, don’t let sources buy positive spin from you. Now, in Columbia, folks don’t necessarily have cash to throw at 19-year-old reporters to garner positive press about their latest planning and zoning proposal.
It’s a whole ‘nother ball game out here.
The Elitch Gardens Media Party was nothing short of Pleasure Island. As Emily said, you had to wonder if at some point, we’d all turn into donkeys. Now, since I’m not actually reporting on anything, here, I indulged…but the whole time, I was thinking, “MY GOD. My professors would be so disappointed.”
Free admission. Free rides. Free games. Free prizes. Free food.
Free beer.
It was almost disgusting, really, watching members of the media get drunk for free and make off-color comments about how the DNC bought their spin. Oh, wait. That was me.
More than once tonight, I stopped and exclaimed: This is the greatest night of my life. I doubt I’ll ever get these kind of perks again, and if I do, it’s going to take a hell of a lot of scraping my way up rungs of a political or journalistic ladder.
We ran around Elitch Gardens, hopping on roller coasters and dashing to various food kiosks grabbing cotton candy, funnel cakes and Dippin’ Dots. (Incidentally, those things are like $6 a pop when you actually pay for them.)
In the beer garden, you didn’t even have to leave your seat. Volunteers brought snacks straight to you — bizarre pasty puffs stuffed with some kind of cream cheese, gourmet pretzel bites, mini chicken empanadas, the most decadent brownie bites in the universe.
Outside, strategically selected 80s tunes pumped through the theme park, punctuating the mania wih new wave beats designed to appeal to folks in the average demographic in attendance. (I figure the average reporter there probably went to college in the mid-80’s.)
And the free drinks. Oh, the free drinks…served in biodegradable plastic cups made out of ethanol, since the convention’s going green this year. God bless America.
As the evening drew to a close, fireworks erupted from three directions. The uber-patriotic, red-white-and-blue display lasted a good 10 or 15 minutes. At one point, a gorgeous British photographer came up to our cluster of girls and commented on the display. We decided the DNC hired him to make all the young, female reporters swoon.
It was a hell of an unforgettable night. Our speakers thus far weren’t kidding: the media is the sole dicator of the convention’s success. And based on tonight, let me tell you: The Democrats certainly know who ultimately butters their bread.
Friday, August 22, 2008
There's no TGIF when work starts on Saturday. And I'm glad.
Fullest. Day. Ever. Until tomorrow, that is, when I start my New York Post fieldwork.
By 8 p.m., I’d grown so slaphappy, I was running barefoot through the streets of Denver like a drunken madwoman, minus the alcohol. This sleep deprivation is of a particularly insidious variety. One minute, you’re watching Howard Dean deliver a killer speech. The next thing you know, you’re spinning around in circles on the sidewalk and babbling incoherently about how Obama better not choose a VP with the last name “Kaine” because the ticket becomes “ObaMcCain.”
I wish I could explain the spins and babbles, but I can’t. I can, however, explain the bare feet. Let’s just say the new shoes didn’t cooperate with multiple miles of tromping around downtown. (Squeamish readers: Skip the rest of this paragraph.) My feet are a mangled mess of blisters and raw skin, and the back third of my left shoe is completely stained inside. I’ll give you one guess what color the stain is.
Fortunately(?), it looks like I wasn’t the only Kansas City yahoo acting like a fool today. According to the Los Angeles Time’s political blog (and my mom), it was KC’s own Michael Mahoney of KMBC 9 News who “broke” the story that Evan Bayh of Indiana was Obama’s VP pick. Apparently, a plant in Kansas churned out a bunch of Obama-Bayh stickers. Now, the New York Times says Bayh’s been informed he’s not the guy. Oops.
Anyway, today was absolutely jam-packed with speakers and events. We got a rather anti-climactic tour of the Pepsi Center that lasted about five minutes, then and spent several hours perusing the ever-expanding convention kitsch booths downtown. I also found my fieldwork outlet’s press pavilion. It’s right next to the protester’s zone, which is, for lack of a more sophisticated phrase, freaking awesome.
Colorado’s Governor, Bill Ritter, came to speak to us, as did DNC Chair Howard Dean. We also heard from a C-Span panel, which was so collectively informative and witty, I may never watch any other cable news network again. (More on the C-Span crew later.)
I’m quickly learning that if you’re looking for insightful speeches that aren’t laden with sound bytes and catch phrases you’ve read a million times in partisan press releases, big-name speakers won’t deliver much.
It’s the behind-the-scenes staffers and smaller-time politicians who deliver the real pearls of unconventional wisdom. Granted, common sense could probably tell you that, but it’s been interesting to see the trend first-hand.
Here’s what I mean…
Governor Dean — who was about 45 minutes late, presumably because he was running spin control on the whole Bayh thing — delivered a spectacular speech. He’s a passionate speaker, and it’s easy to see how he inspired Iowans to campaign and caucus for him so vigorously in 2004. He has a star quality about him, a mix of charm, likeability, smooth attitude and just the right amount of roughness around the edges. When he walked into our room at the convention center, students were eerily silent, swarming to shake his hand like some kind of zombie cult, as a friend pointed out. All that was missing were creepy “Deeeeeaaaaannnnn, Deaaaaaannnnnnnnnn” groans. And maybe some brain-eating, but I doubt Dean would associate himself with such nonsense. Wouldn’t look too good for the party.
Dean’s speech, an ode of sorts to my generation of voters, was invigorating…but I don’t think he had a single thing to say that I hadn’t heard at least once this week and at least a half-dozen times over the last few months and years.
Governor Ritter, on the other hand, spoke eloquently on a whole gambit of brand new topics and delved deeper into concepts over which other speakers merely glossed. Not to suggest a man who governs 5 million people is a small-time politician, of course, but he’s able to zoom in on the issues in a way party bigwigs simply can’t.
Ritter put the Mountain West into context, explaining why and how Colorado and neighboring states have managed to elect Democratic governors, bucking a longstanding Republican trend in the region. (For the most part, rather extreme Republican candidates have been pitted against moderate Democrats, allowing governors from the minority party to take office in spite of vast Republican majorities in many of the states’ legislatures.)
Ritter’s most substantive words, though, addressed what Barack Obama needs to do to add Colorado to the list of blue states come November. To win over Colorado’s independent voters — the suburban soccer moms, as Ritter called them — Obama must talk, in detail, about America’s energy future and how that future is going to create jobs. Other crucial issues include the economy and education. If Obama can authentically speak to these common concerns among Colorado’s independent voters, he’ll win the state’s critical 9 electoral votes.
Speaking of authentically addressing issues, I’ll move on to the C-Span panel. These speakers touched on far too many issues to ever encapsulate in one blog, so I’ll key in on a handful of big issues and revealing remarks, and the too-good-to-be-true sound bytes the panelists offered about them.
“Infuriate the news media? Not a good idea!” — Ellen Ratner, Talk Radio News.
When I heard about Obama moving his acceptance speech to Invesco, it sounded like the epitome of a great idea. He’s implicitly recalling the ’60 election — the last time a candidate (Kennedy) addressed a large stadium of supporters. Ratner pointed out that Thursday marks the 45th anniversary of the March on Washington, and addressing a massive stadium full of supporters will provide an televised image of something much bigger than a candidate. For Obama, this Invesco gathering could represent common cause, a mass movement, and a symbol of the progress this nation has made since Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke of his dream…and the progress we’ve yet to make.
Here’s what I’d never have thought about, had our panelists not shed some light on how the media aspects of the Invesco move. First, the Invesco, quite frankly, probably isn’t going to play as well on camera as the more-intimate Pepsi Center. Steve Sculley, C-Span’s executive producer, said he wasn’t convinced the stadium will play well on TV.
Furthermore, and perhaps more importantly, Ratner highlighted the fact that the move is costing media outlets thousands of dollars and thousands of headaches…not a good thing for Obama, since it’s the media upon whom parties ultimately rely to determine the success of the convention.
“There is a lot of interest in the horse race, and I’ll tell you why: because it’s easy to cover” — Steve Scully, Executive Producer and Political Editor for C-Span
I’m not going to lie. I don’t think I’ve ever sat down and watched C-Span, probably because CNN and MSNBC are sandwiched between the other channels I watch casually, far away from C-Span, which dwells in the teeny-tiny-numbered channels on my cable plan. After today, though, I think I’m making the move.
I typically love CNN, but I was disappointed when the network gave more coverage John Edwards’ affair the day the Russia-Georgia conflict erupted. I can’t tolerate Lou Dobbs and his asinine xenophobia, and I’m getting what I'll call "gaffe fatigue." I've spent a little too much time watching minute-by-minute coverage of candidate slipups that, for the average voter, mean absolutely nothing.
Maybe a lot of voters don’t care about candidates’ actual plans of actions as much as they care about whether Barack Obama is a secret Muslim, but after hearing how fired up the panelists got today over one student’s mere suggestion that none of news media covers substantive issues when it comes to campaigns, I’m inspired to head over to C-Span. Right now, I understand politics far better than policy, and that’s probably because I watch nothing but news that covers political minutiae punctuated by punditry instead of news addressing policies and the way Washington actually works. Hello, C-Span. I’m your newest convert.
Okay. I simply can’t write anything else. There’s so much to say, but my brain is shutting down as we speak. It’s time for bed.
By 8 p.m., I’d grown so slaphappy, I was running barefoot through the streets of Denver like a drunken madwoman, minus the alcohol. This sleep deprivation is of a particularly insidious variety. One minute, you’re watching Howard Dean deliver a killer speech. The next thing you know, you’re spinning around in circles on the sidewalk and babbling incoherently about how Obama better not choose a VP with the last name “Kaine” because the ticket becomes “ObaMcCain.”
I wish I could explain the spins and babbles, but I can’t. I can, however, explain the bare feet. Let’s just say the new shoes didn’t cooperate with multiple miles of tromping around downtown. (Squeamish readers: Skip the rest of this paragraph.) My feet are a mangled mess of blisters and raw skin, and the back third of my left shoe is completely stained inside. I’ll give you one guess what color the stain is.
Fortunately(?), it looks like I wasn’t the only Kansas City yahoo acting like a fool today. According to the Los Angeles Time’s political blog (and my mom), it was KC’s own Michael Mahoney of KMBC 9 News who “broke” the story that Evan Bayh of Indiana was Obama’s VP pick. Apparently, a plant in Kansas churned out a bunch of Obama-Bayh stickers. Now, the New York Times says Bayh’s been informed he’s not the guy. Oops.
Anyway, today was absolutely jam-packed with speakers and events. We got a rather anti-climactic tour of the Pepsi Center that lasted about five minutes, then and spent several hours perusing the ever-expanding convention kitsch booths downtown. I also found my fieldwork outlet’s press pavilion. It’s right next to the protester’s zone, which is, for lack of a more sophisticated phrase, freaking awesome.
Colorado’s Governor, Bill Ritter, came to speak to us, as did DNC Chair Howard Dean. We also heard from a C-Span panel, which was so collectively informative and witty, I may never watch any other cable news network again. (More on the C-Span crew later.)
I’m quickly learning that if you’re looking for insightful speeches that aren’t laden with sound bytes and catch phrases you’ve read a million times in partisan press releases, big-name speakers won’t deliver much.
It’s the behind-the-scenes staffers and smaller-time politicians who deliver the real pearls of unconventional wisdom. Granted, common sense could probably tell you that, but it’s been interesting to see the trend first-hand.
Here’s what I mean…
Governor Dean — who was about 45 minutes late, presumably because he was running spin control on the whole Bayh thing — delivered a spectacular speech. He’s a passionate speaker, and it’s easy to see how he inspired Iowans to campaign and caucus for him so vigorously in 2004. He has a star quality about him, a mix of charm, likeability, smooth attitude and just the right amount of roughness around the edges. When he walked into our room at the convention center, students were eerily silent, swarming to shake his hand like some kind of zombie cult, as a friend pointed out. All that was missing were creepy “Deeeeeaaaaannnnn, Deaaaaaannnnnnnnnn” groans. And maybe some brain-eating, but I doubt Dean would associate himself with such nonsense. Wouldn’t look too good for the party.
Dean’s speech, an ode of sorts to my generation of voters, was invigorating…but I don’t think he had a single thing to say that I hadn’t heard at least once this week and at least a half-dozen times over the last few months and years.
Governor Ritter, on the other hand, spoke eloquently on a whole gambit of brand new topics and delved deeper into concepts over which other speakers merely glossed. Not to suggest a man who governs 5 million people is a small-time politician, of course, but he’s able to zoom in on the issues in a way party bigwigs simply can’t.
Ritter put the Mountain West into context, explaining why and how Colorado and neighboring states have managed to elect Democratic governors, bucking a longstanding Republican trend in the region. (For the most part, rather extreme Republican candidates have been pitted against moderate Democrats, allowing governors from the minority party to take office in spite of vast Republican majorities in many of the states’ legislatures.)
Ritter’s most substantive words, though, addressed what Barack Obama needs to do to add Colorado to the list of blue states come November. To win over Colorado’s independent voters — the suburban soccer moms, as Ritter called them — Obama must talk, in detail, about America’s energy future and how that future is going to create jobs. Other crucial issues include the economy and education. If Obama can authentically speak to these common concerns among Colorado’s independent voters, he’ll win the state’s critical 9 electoral votes.
Speaking of authentically addressing issues, I’ll move on to the C-Span panel. These speakers touched on far too many issues to ever encapsulate in one blog, so I’ll key in on a handful of big issues and revealing remarks, and the too-good-to-be-true sound bytes the panelists offered about them.
“Infuriate the news media? Not a good idea!” — Ellen Ratner, Talk Radio News.
When I heard about Obama moving his acceptance speech to Invesco, it sounded like the epitome of a great idea. He’s implicitly recalling the ’60 election — the last time a candidate (Kennedy) addressed a large stadium of supporters. Ratner pointed out that Thursday marks the 45th anniversary of the March on Washington, and addressing a massive stadium full of supporters will provide an televised image of something much bigger than a candidate. For Obama, this Invesco gathering could represent common cause, a mass movement, and a symbol of the progress this nation has made since Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke of his dream…and the progress we’ve yet to make.
Here’s what I’d never have thought about, had our panelists not shed some light on how the media aspects of the Invesco move. First, the Invesco, quite frankly, probably isn’t going to play as well on camera as the more-intimate Pepsi Center. Steve Sculley, C-Span’s executive producer, said he wasn’t convinced the stadium will play well on TV.
Furthermore, and perhaps more importantly, Ratner highlighted the fact that the move is costing media outlets thousands of dollars and thousands of headaches…not a good thing for Obama, since it’s the media upon whom parties ultimately rely to determine the success of the convention.
“There is a lot of interest in the horse race, and I’ll tell you why: because it’s easy to cover” — Steve Scully, Executive Producer and Political Editor for C-Span
I’m not going to lie. I don’t think I’ve ever sat down and watched C-Span, probably because CNN and MSNBC are sandwiched between the other channels I watch casually, far away from C-Span, which dwells in the teeny-tiny-numbered channels on my cable plan. After today, though, I think I’m making the move.
I typically love CNN, but I was disappointed when the network gave more coverage John Edwards’ affair the day the Russia-Georgia conflict erupted. I can’t tolerate Lou Dobbs and his asinine xenophobia, and I’m getting what I'll call "gaffe fatigue." I've spent a little too much time watching minute-by-minute coverage of candidate slipups that, for the average voter, mean absolutely nothing.
Maybe a lot of voters don’t care about candidates’ actual plans of actions as much as they care about whether Barack Obama is a secret Muslim, but after hearing how fired up the panelists got today over one student’s mere suggestion that none of news media covers substantive issues when it comes to campaigns, I’m inspired to head over to C-Span. Right now, I understand politics far better than policy, and that’s probably because I watch nothing but news that covers political minutiae punctuated by punditry instead of news addressing policies and the way Washington actually works. Hello, C-Span. I’m your newest convert.
Okay. I simply can’t write anything else. There’s so much to say, but my brain is shutting down as we speak. It’s time for bed.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wet babies: a refreshingly short post
Can’t help but wonder if today was a calm before the storm. Tomorrow’s the open house at the Pepsi Center, and I start my fieldwork on Satruday.
Today was blissfully low-key. Speakers wrapped up around noon — leaving time for a crew of us to hit downtown Denver for a few necessities…like, uh, shoes without four-inch heels. For a smart girl, I’m a stupid, stupid packer. (Speaking of stupid, I’ve also walked or nearly walked into several people/animals/objects during several downtown excursions, including: a map kiosk, a couple people, a baby carriage, a horse and a moving bus.)
There isn’t really much to say about today’s guest speakers. Both were engaging, to be sure, but neither spoke about anything as intriguing as the topics our own speakers chose. I wish Elbra Wedgeworth, Denver Host Committee Chair, had more time to talk about her health care work. That said, she’d be one hell of a graduation speaker; her inspirational “go after your dreams, go to the light” thing could’ve been incredibly cliché, but it wasn’t. Instead, Ms. Wedgeworth was motivating. She gave me chills…and a sense of motivation to believe that yes, I can succeed in politics and/or journalism. (Woohoo, personal DNC goals!)
Sound byte of the day: “Are we that wet baby?”
I’d never heard the adage “The only one who truly likes change is a wet baby,” but thanks to Dr. Genovese, I’ll never think of it without thinking of Barack Obama. Genovese hit the nail on the head; by all accounts, Obama should be several points ahead in the polls (more on that later) right now. As Genovese pointed out: George Bush and Dick Cheney are incredibly unpopular, the economy is completely dismal, gas prices are downright terrifying, government trust is low, and polls show the public doesn’t believe the country’s heading in the right direction. We should have a recipe for an easy Democratic win on our hands.
People want change, but when you slice through the polls and politicking, Obama might be behind in the polls right now because people just aren’t sure how much change they want — or how badly they want it. McCain’s safe. He’s a proven, seasoned candidate, but for the most part, he’s more of the same. So as Genovese asked…are we that wet baby? Are we really ready for change?
As a young, left-leaner, my answer is beyond obvious: YES. Sure, Obama’s stalled in the polls, but we learned today from Prof. Scott McClain, Quinnipiac poll analyst, that polls often don’t mean much — especially not at this stage in the game. Maybe I’m too idealistic, and maybe the forces of racism and inertia will keep enough of the older voting public from pulling the lever for an unprecedented candidate, but I truly think the polls aren’t reaching a representative audience of likely voters.
Why? Because college kids and young voters don’t have landline phones. (Nor do a good portion of low-income and minority voters, who traditionally vote Democratic.) And if a random sample of my friends offers any indication, young voters don’t answer our phones when we don’t know who’s calling. So, since the youth vote is one of Obama’s ultimate strongholds, I have a feeling polls skew in McCain’s favor — enough, I’d wager, to balance out underlying racism against Obama that might not show up in the polls.
To (once again) regurgitate a point of Genovese’s, Obama has to galvanize his Democratic base to win this election. A huge part of that base — one we haven’t had to think about in previous elections — is the youth vote. My prediction? If the Obama campaign continues to amp up the youth vote, he could very well perform beyond anyone’s expectations…even if the polls suggest otherwise through Election Day.
Today was blissfully low-key. Speakers wrapped up around noon — leaving time for a crew of us to hit downtown Denver for a few necessities…like, uh, shoes without four-inch heels. For a smart girl, I’m a stupid, stupid packer. (Speaking of stupid, I’ve also walked or nearly walked into several people/animals/objects during several downtown excursions, including: a map kiosk, a couple people, a baby carriage, a horse and a moving bus.)
There isn’t really much to say about today’s guest speakers. Both were engaging, to be sure, but neither spoke about anything as intriguing as the topics our own speakers chose. I wish Elbra Wedgeworth, Denver Host Committee Chair, had more time to talk about her health care work. That said, she’d be one hell of a graduation speaker; her inspirational “go after your dreams, go to the light” thing could’ve been incredibly cliché, but it wasn’t. Instead, Ms. Wedgeworth was motivating. She gave me chills…and a sense of motivation to believe that yes, I can succeed in politics and/or journalism. (Woohoo, personal DNC goals!)
Sound byte of the day: “Are we that wet baby?”
I’d never heard the adage “The only one who truly likes change is a wet baby,” but thanks to Dr. Genovese, I’ll never think of it without thinking of Barack Obama. Genovese hit the nail on the head; by all accounts, Obama should be several points ahead in the polls (more on that later) right now. As Genovese pointed out: George Bush and Dick Cheney are incredibly unpopular, the economy is completely dismal, gas prices are downright terrifying, government trust is low, and polls show the public doesn’t believe the country’s heading in the right direction. We should have a recipe for an easy Democratic win on our hands.
People want change, but when you slice through the polls and politicking, Obama might be behind in the polls right now because people just aren’t sure how much change they want — or how badly they want it. McCain’s safe. He’s a proven, seasoned candidate, but for the most part, he’s more of the same. So as Genovese asked…are we that wet baby? Are we really ready for change?
As a young, left-leaner, my answer is beyond obvious: YES. Sure, Obama’s stalled in the polls, but we learned today from Prof. Scott McClain, Quinnipiac poll analyst, that polls often don’t mean much — especially not at this stage in the game. Maybe I’m too idealistic, and maybe the forces of racism and inertia will keep enough of the older voting public from pulling the lever for an unprecedented candidate, but I truly think the polls aren’t reaching a representative audience of likely voters.
Why? Because college kids and young voters don’t have landline phones. (Nor do a good portion of low-income and minority voters, who traditionally vote Democratic.) And if a random sample of my friends offers any indication, young voters don’t answer our phones when we don’t know who’s calling. So, since the youth vote is one of Obama’s ultimate strongholds, I have a feeling polls skew in McCain’s favor — enough, I’d wager, to balance out underlying racism against Obama that might not show up in the polls.
To (once again) regurgitate a point of Genovese’s, Obama has to galvanize his Democratic base to win this election. A huge part of that base — one we haven’t had to think about in previous elections — is the youth vote. My prediction? If the Obama campaign continues to amp up the youth vote, he could very well perform beyond anyone’s expectations…even if the polls suggest otherwise through Election Day.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tear down the walls
We learned where we’ll be working during the convention today. I’m with the New York Post. Can’t say much more about that at all, really, until I find out about their policy on blogging. Fun fact, though: I’ll be in the same press quarters as the one of the Post’s sister publications…the Weekly Standard.
Anyway, on to today’s events:
Sound byte of the day … wait, week: “Tearing down the walls [of the Pepsi Center/at the Convention/and letting the public in/etc.]”
A laundry list of DNCC speakers who’ve used this phrase so far this week:
• Director of Media Logistics Wally Podrazik.
• Travis Dredd (I believe), Deputy CEO for operations inside the convention center, eliciting a knowing nod of the head from his speaking partner, Cameron Moody, CEO for operations outside the hall.
• CEO and Faith Outreach Leader Leah Daughtry.
• Producer Ricky Kirscher (If I remember correctly.)
No, I’m not talking about a worst-case-scenario, havoc-ridden, ’68 convention redux, or next week’s Rage Against the Machine show in the “protest zone.”
I’m talking party message, and boy, this little phrase seems to have lodged itself square in front of every DNCC speaker’s mind this week. Maybe they’ve just read these words in so many memos, they can’t help but subconsciously blurt them out every time they talk about Invesco Field. At least, that’s what I’m hoping.
Otherwise, I think there must’ve been some mass indoctrination session during which everyone organizing convention was systematically brainwashed into mentioning how they’ll “tear down the walls and bring the whole world in” to the convention at least once per public appearance…twice if you’re lucky.
It’s fascinating: This might be the first time I’ve ever witnessed the birth of a cliché.
Expect to see this buzz phrase quoted at least five times by prominent DNCC and party folk over the course of the convention. You’ll hear it from Howard Dean, to be sure. You might even hear this week’s buzz phrase from Obama himself, come next Thursday.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to be harsh. I’ve just never been this close to the metaphorical horse’s mouth before. There’s little doubt in my mind that countless campaign catch phrases get uttered a hundred times a day at every convention.
And as strong as the urge is growing to giggle every time I hear about “tearing down the walls,” it’s a great message for the Obama campaign. The decision to move Obama’s acceptance speech to Invesco Field was a brilliant one — especially when paired with these buzzwords.
After all, Obama’s team has crafted much of his image around the idea that he’s a Washington outsider — that he’ll rip down partisan divides and take back Washington for the American people. By tearing down the proverbial convention walls and giving unprecedented access to the public — be they bloggers or Colorado folks pouring into Invesco Field — the campaign and party are truly underscoring this message.
Let’s just hope an Obama administration actually has the chance to carry this post-partisan message to the White House…and that this isn’t just a message, but a promise.
Anyway, on to today’s events:
Sound byte of the day … wait, week: “Tearing down the walls [of the Pepsi Center/at the Convention/and letting the public in/etc.]”
A laundry list of DNCC speakers who’ve used this phrase so far this week:
• Director of Media Logistics Wally Podrazik.
• Travis Dredd (I believe), Deputy CEO for operations inside the convention center, eliciting a knowing nod of the head from his speaking partner, Cameron Moody, CEO for operations outside the hall.
• CEO and Faith Outreach Leader Leah Daughtry.
• Producer Ricky Kirscher (If I remember correctly.)
No, I’m not talking about a worst-case-scenario, havoc-ridden, ’68 convention redux, or next week’s Rage Against the Machine show in the “protest zone.”
I’m talking party message, and boy, this little phrase seems to have lodged itself square in front of every DNCC speaker’s mind this week. Maybe they’ve just read these words in so many memos, they can’t help but subconsciously blurt them out every time they talk about Invesco Field. At least, that’s what I’m hoping.
Otherwise, I think there must’ve been some mass indoctrination session during which everyone organizing convention was systematically brainwashed into mentioning how they’ll “tear down the walls and bring the whole world in” to the convention at least once per public appearance…twice if you’re lucky.
It’s fascinating: This might be the first time I’ve ever witnessed the birth of a cliché.
Expect to see this buzz phrase quoted at least five times by prominent DNCC and party folk over the course of the convention. You’ll hear it from Howard Dean, to be sure. You might even hear this week’s buzz phrase from Obama himself, come next Thursday.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to be harsh. I’ve just never been this close to the metaphorical horse’s mouth before. There’s little doubt in my mind that countless campaign catch phrases get uttered a hundred times a day at every convention.
And as strong as the urge is growing to giggle every time I hear about “tearing down the walls,” it’s a great message for the Obama campaign. The decision to move Obama’s acceptance speech to Invesco Field was a brilliant one — especially when paired with these buzzwords.
After all, Obama’s team has crafted much of his image around the idea that he’s a Washington outsider — that he’ll rip down partisan divides and take back Washington for the American people. By tearing down the proverbial convention walls and giving unprecedented access to the public — be they bloggers or Colorado folks pouring into Invesco Field — the campaign and party are truly underscoring this message.
Let’s just hope an Obama administration actually has the chance to carry this post-partisan message to the White House…and that this isn’t just a message, but a promise.
Wednesday's über long musings, part two
Today’s Speakers:
Wally Podrazik, DNCC Director of Media Logistics:
Wally’s speech — a history of media coverage of the conventions since 1908 — was probably best tailored to students who haven’t already taken a class called “History of American Journalism.” (However, I’ve got to say: his frequent reference to the crucial role of the press at conventions definitely pumped up my J-school student ego.)
Podrazik was definitely a media man — a rapid speaker with slick hair and a slick suit. He reminded me of a game show host (in a good way) — minus his cartilage ear piercings. Incidentally, I’ve never been so thrilled to see a man with semi-unconventional body art. I did a little victory dance inside; mom always told me the couple extra holes in my ears and the ink on my skin would kill me if I ever wanted a professional job. Maybe she was wrong? Podrazik’s certainly ain’t doing half bad.
Travis Dredd and Cameron Moody, Deputy CEOs for inside and outside the convention hall, respectively:
These two have lived in Denver for an entire year, preparing for the convention. ‘Nuff said. Wait — maybe not.
These are the kind of guys who get overlooked during convention time, but the sheer amount of time and energy they (and their Republican counterparts, I’m sure) pour into these conventions is flabbergasting. Dredd coordinates everything inside the convention hall — from contracting Colorado union workers to build the sets to coordinating media logistics for the 15,000+ journalists who’ll storm the Pepsi Center come Monday (and Invesco come Thursday). Moody oversees virtually every microscopic detail you could conceive of outside the actual convention hall — security, finding hotels with adequate rooms and meeting space for every state delegation, and the all-important campaign credentials, among other things.
Honestly, I don’t have a whole lot to say as far as reflection goes. I just wanted to give these two some props for work that, at least in the mainstream press, goes largely unrecognized.
The one, the only: Tom Reed, legendary Washington Post reporter
God, I love a Libertarian. I’m far from one myself, but I swear, I think these guys and gals are tailor-made to have killer senses of humor. Maybe the whole “3-P” thing (believing American liberties should preclude legislation over Pot, Porn and Prostitution) puts them in a better mood than most politicians.
I could tell Reed wasn’t particularly interested in boring the non-journalism majors in the program with reporter war stories or screeds about media principals and ethics. Instead, Reed offered what only the most seasoned of campaign reporters could: an insightful chat, punctuated with priceless anecdotes, that’ll probably stick with me ‘til the day I die.
I appreciated Reed’s talk, in particular, for three reasons: because he’s downright hilarious, because he reminded me about one of the program’s most fascinating readings, and most importantly…he inadvertently pushed me along on my goal of deciding what the heck I’m doing after I graduate.
Hilarity: The man’s held basically every campaign-related post you can think of, both in the U.S. and abroad. Given how frequently MU’s journalism professors warn about how political biases endanger objective journalism, hearing Reed offer utterly uncensored opinions about candidates and races he’s covered (including borderline bigoted comments on Korean elections) was zen-like.
Though he spent a few minutes touting the virtues of foreign electoral process — particularly Great Britain’s — Reed freely admitted he prefers covering foreign campaigns not because of the politics, but because he doesn’t give a hoot. (“Who cares which (Korean) Kim wins?”)
He mocked candidates who invariably make identical speeches and offer identical answers to reporters’ identical questions 7 or 8 times a day. He joked about covering “the next President of the United States” back in ’88, when it looked like hell would freeze over before Dukakis would lose the election.
But beyond his humor, Reed offered true gems… bits of advice and insight far too numerous to mention here.
Ties to the readings: I don’t even care if Reed forced himself to do this, but every time he referred to arbitrary, hypothetical candidates and officials, he referred to them by “she.”
Even if we hadn’t read an essay called “Cultural Barriers to the Female Presidency,” I’d have noticed. “She.” Oh, the power of one word.
As “Cultural Barriers” pointed out, there are enormous intrinsic societal factors preventing a woman from shattering the greatest of all glass ceilings. Complex factors abound, from the heightened scrutiny of female candidates’ appearances to the traditional soldier/citizen concept of an American “hero.” But thanks to history, force of habit and perhaps overt sexism, one of the thickest panes of glass looming over a future female president’s head is the fact that when most of us talk about arbitrary presidential (or for that matter, any) candidates, we choose “he” over “she.” So kudos, Mr. Reed, for breaking the stereotype.
Helping me decide what to do with my life: Two quotes from Reed are really all you need to get the gist…
Re: the “good old days” of campaign and convention coverage, when reporters trashed airplanes while on board with candidates and wrote a maximum of two articles a day: “This is one of those things when you say, ‘it’s really not right they’re paying me to do this.’”
Re: today, when media organizations cart dozens of reporters to cover pre-ordained conventions on 24-hour news cycles: “Now, it’s not fun.”
Maybe Reed’s just nostalgic for the good old days, but it sounds like political coverage ain’t what it used to be. It’s not, I think, as glamorous as I once imagined it to be.
Goal Progress:
Haven’t met any of my personally sought-after candidates, officials or Larry King-types yet, but I’m starting to think I’ve already accomplished my goal of discovering whether I find politics fascinating enough to pursue a graduate degree. (The answer is yes.) I’m giving it some time, but I think I may be honing in on an answer on my first goal, too. (Could I really abandon journalism? I’m starting to think it’s a possibility.)
As for the schmoozing, I suck. But I’m working on it.
Wally Podrazik, DNCC Director of Media Logistics:
Wally’s speech — a history of media coverage of the conventions since 1908 — was probably best tailored to students who haven’t already taken a class called “History of American Journalism.” (However, I’ve got to say: his frequent reference to the crucial role of the press at conventions definitely pumped up my J-school student ego.)
Podrazik was definitely a media man — a rapid speaker with slick hair and a slick suit. He reminded me of a game show host (in a good way) — minus his cartilage ear piercings. Incidentally, I’ve never been so thrilled to see a man with semi-unconventional body art. I did a little victory dance inside; mom always told me the couple extra holes in my ears and the ink on my skin would kill me if I ever wanted a professional job. Maybe she was wrong? Podrazik’s certainly ain’t doing half bad.
Travis Dredd and Cameron Moody, Deputy CEOs for inside and outside the convention hall, respectively:
These two have lived in Denver for an entire year, preparing for the convention. ‘Nuff said. Wait — maybe not.
These are the kind of guys who get overlooked during convention time, but the sheer amount of time and energy they (and their Republican counterparts, I’m sure) pour into these conventions is flabbergasting. Dredd coordinates everything inside the convention hall — from contracting Colorado union workers to build the sets to coordinating media logistics for the 15,000+ journalists who’ll storm the Pepsi Center come Monday (and Invesco come Thursday). Moody oversees virtually every microscopic detail you could conceive of outside the actual convention hall — security, finding hotels with adequate rooms and meeting space for every state delegation, and the all-important campaign credentials, among other things.
Honestly, I don’t have a whole lot to say as far as reflection goes. I just wanted to give these two some props for work that, at least in the mainstream press, goes largely unrecognized.
The one, the only: Tom Reed, legendary Washington Post reporter
God, I love a Libertarian. I’m far from one myself, but I swear, I think these guys and gals are tailor-made to have killer senses of humor. Maybe the whole “3-P” thing (believing American liberties should preclude legislation over Pot, Porn and Prostitution) puts them in a better mood than most politicians.
I could tell Reed wasn’t particularly interested in boring the non-journalism majors in the program with reporter war stories or screeds about media principals and ethics. Instead, Reed offered what only the most seasoned of campaign reporters could: an insightful chat, punctuated with priceless anecdotes, that’ll probably stick with me ‘til the day I die.
I appreciated Reed’s talk, in particular, for three reasons: because he’s downright hilarious, because he reminded me about one of the program’s most fascinating readings, and most importantly…he inadvertently pushed me along on my goal of deciding what the heck I’m doing after I graduate.
Hilarity: The man’s held basically every campaign-related post you can think of, both in the U.S. and abroad. Given how frequently MU’s journalism professors warn about how political biases endanger objective journalism, hearing Reed offer utterly uncensored opinions about candidates and races he’s covered (including borderline bigoted comments on Korean elections) was zen-like.
Though he spent a few minutes touting the virtues of foreign electoral process — particularly Great Britain’s — Reed freely admitted he prefers covering foreign campaigns not because of the politics, but because he doesn’t give a hoot. (“Who cares which (Korean) Kim wins?”)
He mocked candidates who invariably make identical speeches and offer identical answers to reporters’ identical questions 7 or 8 times a day. He joked about covering “the next President of the United States” back in ’88, when it looked like hell would freeze over before Dukakis would lose the election.
But beyond his humor, Reed offered true gems… bits of advice and insight far too numerous to mention here.
Ties to the readings: I don’t even care if Reed forced himself to do this, but every time he referred to arbitrary, hypothetical candidates and officials, he referred to them by “she.”
Even if we hadn’t read an essay called “Cultural Barriers to the Female Presidency,” I’d have noticed. “She.” Oh, the power of one word.
As “Cultural Barriers” pointed out, there are enormous intrinsic societal factors preventing a woman from shattering the greatest of all glass ceilings. Complex factors abound, from the heightened scrutiny of female candidates’ appearances to the traditional soldier/citizen concept of an American “hero.” But thanks to history, force of habit and perhaps overt sexism, one of the thickest panes of glass looming over a future female president’s head is the fact that when most of us talk about arbitrary presidential (or for that matter, any) candidates, we choose “he” over “she.” So kudos, Mr. Reed, for breaking the stereotype.
Helping me decide what to do with my life: Two quotes from Reed are really all you need to get the gist…
Re: the “good old days” of campaign and convention coverage, when reporters trashed airplanes while on board with candidates and wrote a maximum of two articles a day: “This is one of those things when you say, ‘it’s really not right they’re paying me to do this.’”
Re: today, when media organizations cart dozens of reporters to cover pre-ordained conventions on 24-hour news cycles: “Now, it’s not fun.”
Maybe Reed’s just nostalgic for the good old days, but it sounds like political coverage ain’t what it used to be. It’s not, I think, as glamorous as I once imagined it to be.
Goal Progress:
Haven’t met any of my personally sought-after candidates, officials or Larry King-types yet, but I’m starting to think I’ve already accomplished my goal of discovering whether I find politics fascinating enough to pursue a graduate degree. (The answer is yes.) I’m giving it some time, but I think I may be honing in on an answer on my first goal, too. (Could I really abandon journalism? I’m starting to think it’s a possibility.)
As for the schmoozing, I suck. But I’m working on it.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Tuesday's DNC Journal Entry
Sound Byte: “The other side does not have a monopoly on faith.”
First off, I have to say: It was an absolute treat to hear the Rev. Leah Daughtry speak. She’s a journalist’s dream interviewee — savvy, eloquent, witty, professional but warm, and seriously, the woman speaks in sound bytes. After an interview with her, I feel like an article would all but write itself.
Daughtry has style…but it’s the substance behind the style that makes her such a remarkable woman. Rev. Daughtry has a message, and she’s damn good at sharing it.
I’ve never given much credence to the idea of the Democratic Party as a party of faith. After all, most candidates who ride the donkey cart are pro-choice — a virtual death sentence when it comes to gleaning votes from many religious voters. As something of a lapsed Catholic myself, I remember being religious education teachers encouraging us to vote for pro-life (read: Republican) candidates when we turned 18. Let’s keep in mind, here: There was a time when Catholics were a core component of the Democratic Party’s voting base.
It’s hard to immediately think of the Democratic Party as a party of faith for countless reasons. Our civil rights views often clash with what many major religious sects preach. We’re a party to whom those who practice religions outside of the WASP (emphasis on the “P”) demographic often gravitate, so we aren’t a party of one faith, but of many. But I think, more than anything, Democrats just don’t talk about religion as often as Republicans. Sure, we have our Jesse Jacksons, but for every Jesse Jackson on the left, it seems like there are half a dozen equally vocal Pat Buchanans on the right.
Daughtry was right, though, when (among her many sound bytes) she mentioned that the Republicans don’t hold a monopoly over faith. She expounded, mentioning that folks can read the same religious text she can and jump to the other end of the political spectrum. It’s a question of interpretation, to be sure. Faith is personal, and so are politics — but faith needn’t force someone to a particular end of the political spectrum.
As Daughtry said: Faith is about community. And a community is about wanting the best for the people closest to you. It’s lending neighbors a helping hand, giving them a fair chance, and respecting their independence. And communities of faith across a myriad of denominations hold several crucial concerns in common — poverty, crime, education, health care, to name a brief few.
A basic train of logic:
• The Democratic Party is about communities — keeping them healthy, educated, well-fed, safe from guns and violence, economically secure, privy to fair and equal opportunities:
• Places of faith: Churches, synagogues, mosques, temples — all are communities.
• If the Democratic Party is a party of communities, it must also be a party of faith.
Daughtry even reconciled (albeit briefly) a common problem among Democrats with religious values that often conflict with party stances. Her explanation of how she can reconcile her Pentecostal faith with party stances on issues such as abortion and gay marriage was especially eloquent: It’s not her position to judge or dictate the decisions people make. Personal faith is just that: something personal.
Many Democrats already subscribe to Daughtry’s school of thought — that the United States Constitution guarantees freedom of religion rather than from religion, and that we should embrace the many people of faith who call this party home. I appreciate Daughtry’s efforts to push the party as a whole toward a greater acceptance and encouragement of personal faith.
Daily Reflection: Speakers:
Frankly, I was slightly disappointed with Ricky Kirschner, Executive Producer of the DNC…but then again, he’s a behind the scenes kind of guy. When I sit back and think about orchestrating the production side of a convention, it’s actually pretty awe-inspiring. This is a behemoth task. I just wish he had the fire (or narcissism?) to amp himself up more. He was so modest and shy, you’d think he was the producer of a low-budget local music video.
That said, I was pretty astounded by some of the fun trivia he shared. Never would’ve known the teleprompter went out during Bill Clinton’s speech at the ’92 (or was it ’96?) convention— though I can’t say I’m shocked he didn’t skip a beat when it happened.
A more rage-inducing speech, however, came from our Republican friend, Dr. Bob Lavey. Let me preface: I actually think his “Delaware Plan” isn’t half bad. From my understanding, the plan runs thus:
• 8 weeks of elections, with 10 states voting every 2 weeks.
• The 10 smallest states (by population) vote first, followed by the next 10 smallest, and so on, until the largest states finish voting.
• Anyone can vote, and the candidate list gets paired down after each round of voting, until there are only two left for the 10 largest states to vote between.
It makes sense, really. The smaller states, where candidates have an easier time campaigning face-to-face, get the chance to whittle the list down tot those candidates who’ve most successfully sold themselves on a retail, interpersonal level. As the populations grow, and by necessity, campaigns expand into wholesale efforts, the list of candidates pouring money into the campaign dwindles. The states with the largest populations (apparently, approximately 50% of the population lives in the largest 10 states) make the final call.
The plan is democratic. It does away with caucuses, which I think are categorically awful, undemocratic and archaic. It seems like a relatively diplomatic compromise, giving small states the attention they rarely receive while placing the biggest choice between the two front-runners in the hands of the largest group of voters.
But this plan has serious pitfalls. What happens to the states in the middle? The ones that candidates don’t spend months upon months campaigning in?
Won’t candidates continue to focus on a few, key, ”winnable” states early on, just as the do now?
But here’s my biggest problem:
What happens when a relatively unknown candidate does unexpectedly well in the first “round” of voting? He or she is suave, charismatic, great at grassroots organization…and completely mysterious. She could be a dynamo…but she could also have politically lethal skeletons lurking in her closet. Is 8 weeks really enough time to vet a candidate who gets a big “bounce” after round 1? I sincerely doubt it.
I don’t know how to fix our primary system. I have no doubt that it’s broken, but as far as I’m concerned, we need a system that meets the following requirements:
• No caucuses. Ideally, we’d have primaries in which voters rank their favorite candidates in preferential order.
• A relatively lengthy time span. We need time to vet candidates who come out of nowhere. Likewise, we need enough time for candidates to come out of nowhere in the first place. A national primary is a virtual death sentence for anyone who isn’t a multimillionaire or an extremely well-known party member.
• Some element of change or randomness in the order in which states hold their primaries. One man, one vote is a crucial principal of democracy. If we’re going to commit to democratic primaries, let’s go all out. Spending inordinate amounts of money courting the same two states — New Hampshire and Iowa — year after year is neither fair nor effective. (Personally, I’m a fan of a rotational system.)
My biggest problem with Dr. Lavey’s proposal was his near refusal to offer straightforward answers to legitimate questions. My peers made excellent points, and he dismissed them with a rather closed mind. Was his plan better than most I’ve heard? Absolutely. Was it flawless? No. Perhaps it’s the best one anyone’s ever come up with, but that’s no reason to dismiss legitimate questions — especially not from a group of young students, many of whom are trying to wrap their heads around these kinds of topics for the first time.
New Terms:
Retail politics: Campaigning done on a more personal, face-to-face, hand-shaking, baby-kissing level.
Wholesale politics: Campaigning on a far broader scale — rallies, ad campaigns, public relations spin, etc.
First off, I have to say: It was an absolute treat to hear the Rev. Leah Daughtry speak. She’s a journalist’s dream interviewee — savvy, eloquent, witty, professional but warm, and seriously, the woman speaks in sound bytes. After an interview with her, I feel like an article would all but write itself.
Daughtry has style…but it’s the substance behind the style that makes her such a remarkable woman. Rev. Daughtry has a message, and she’s damn good at sharing it.
I’ve never given much credence to the idea of the Democratic Party as a party of faith. After all, most candidates who ride the donkey cart are pro-choice — a virtual death sentence when it comes to gleaning votes from many religious voters. As something of a lapsed Catholic myself, I remember being religious education teachers encouraging us to vote for pro-life (read: Republican) candidates when we turned 18. Let’s keep in mind, here: There was a time when Catholics were a core component of the Democratic Party’s voting base.
It’s hard to immediately think of the Democratic Party as a party of faith for countless reasons. Our civil rights views often clash with what many major religious sects preach. We’re a party to whom those who practice religions outside of the WASP (emphasis on the “P”) demographic often gravitate, so we aren’t a party of one faith, but of many. But I think, more than anything, Democrats just don’t talk about religion as often as Republicans. Sure, we have our Jesse Jacksons, but for every Jesse Jackson on the left, it seems like there are half a dozen equally vocal Pat Buchanans on the right.
Daughtry was right, though, when (among her many sound bytes) she mentioned that the Republicans don’t hold a monopoly over faith. She expounded, mentioning that folks can read the same religious text she can and jump to the other end of the political spectrum. It’s a question of interpretation, to be sure. Faith is personal, and so are politics — but faith needn’t force someone to a particular end of the political spectrum.
As Daughtry said: Faith is about community. And a community is about wanting the best for the people closest to you. It’s lending neighbors a helping hand, giving them a fair chance, and respecting their independence. And communities of faith across a myriad of denominations hold several crucial concerns in common — poverty, crime, education, health care, to name a brief few.
A basic train of logic:
• The Democratic Party is about communities — keeping them healthy, educated, well-fed, safe from guns and violence, economically secure, privy to fair and equal opportunities:
• Places of faith: Churches, synagogues, mosques, temples — all are communities.
• If the Democratic Party is a party of communities, it must also be a party of faith.
Daughtry even reconciled (albeit briefly) a common problem among Democrats with religious values that often conflict with party stances. Her explanation of how she can reconcile her Pentecostal faith with party stances on issues such as abortion and gay marriage was especially eloquent: It’s not her position to judge or dictate the decisions people make. Personal faith is just that: something personal.
Many Democrats already subscribe to Daughtry’s school of thought — that the United States Constitution guarantees freedom of religion rather than from religion, and that we should embrace the many people of faith who call this party home. I appreciate Daughtry’s efforts to push the party as a whole toward a greater acceptance and encouragement of personal faith.
Daily Reflection: Speakers:
Frankly, I was slightly disappointed with Ricky Kirschner, Executive Producer of the DNC…but then again, he’s a behind the scenes kind of guy. When I sit back and think about orchestrating the production side of a convention, it’s actually pretty awe-inspiring. This is a behemoth task. I just wish he had the fire (or narcissism?) to amp himself up more. He was so modest and shy, you’d think he was the producer of a low-budget local music video.
That said, I was pretty astounded by some of the fun trivia he shared. Never would’ve known the teleprompter went out during Bill Clinton’s speech at the ’92 (or was it ’96?) convention— though I can’t say I’m shocked he didn’t skip a beat when it happened.
A more rage-inducing speech, however, came from our Republican friend, Dr. Bob Lavey. Let me preface: I actually think his “Delaware Plan” isn’t half bad. From my understanding, the plan runs thus:
• 8 weeks of elections, with 10 states voting every 2 weeks.
• The 10 smallest states (by population) vote first, followed by the next 10 smallest, and so on, until the largest states finish voting.
• Anyone can vote, and the candidate list gets paired down after each round of voting, until there are only two left for the 10 largest states to vote between.
It makes sense, really. The smaller states, where candidates have an easier time campaigning face-to-face, get the chance to whittle the list down tot those candidates who’ve most successfully sold themselves on a retail, interpersonal level. As the populations grow, and by necessity, campaigns expand into wholesale efforts, the list of candidates pouring money into the campaign dwindles. The states with the largest populations (apparently, approximately 50% of the population lives in the largest 10 states) make the final call.
The plan is democratic. It does away with caucuses, which I think are categorically awful, undemocratic and archaic. It seems like a relatively diplomatic compromise, giving small states the attention they rarely receive while placing the biggest choice between the two front-runners in the hands of the largest group of voters.
But this plan has serious pitfalls. What happens to the states in the middle? The ones that candidates don’t spend months upon months campaigning in?
Won’t candidates continue to focus on a few, key, ”winnable” states early on, just as the do now?
But here’s my biggest problem:
What happens when a relatively unknown candidate does unexpectedly well in the first “round” of voting? He or she is suave, charismatic, great at grassroots organization…and completely mysterious. She could be a dynamo…but she could also have politically lethal skeletons lurking in her closet. Is 8 weeks really enough time to vet a candidate who gets a big “bounce” after round 1? I sincerely doubt it.
I don’t know how to fix our primary system. I have no doubt that it’s broken, but as far as I’m concerned, we need a system that meets the following requirements:
• No caucuses. Ideally, we’d have primaries in which voters rank their favorite candidates in preferential order.
• A relatively lengthy time span. We need time to vet candidates who come out of nowhere. Likewise, we need enough time for candidates to come out of nowhere in the first place. A national primary is a virtual death sentence for anyone who isn’t a multimillionaire or an extremely well-known party member.
• Some element of change or randomness in the order in which states hold their primaries. One man, one vote is a crucial principal of democracy. If we’re going to commit to democratic primaries, let’s go all out. Spending inordinate amounts of money courting the same two states — New Hampshire and Iowa — year after year is neither fair nor effective. (Personally, I’m a fan of a rotational system.)
My biggest problem with Dr. Lavey’s proposal was his near refusal to offer straightforward answers to legitimate questions. My peers made excellent points, and he dismissed them with a rather closed mind. Was his plan better than most I’ve heard? Absolutely. Was it flawless? No. Perhaps it’s the best one anyone’s ever come up with, but that’s no reason to dismiss legitimate questions — especially not from a group of young students, many of whom are trying to wrap their heads around these kinds of topics for the first time.
New Terms:
Retail politics: Campaigning done on a more personal, face-to-face, hand-shaking, baby-kissing level.
Wholesale politics: Campaigning on a far broader scale — rallies, ad campaigns, public relations spin, etc.
Since there's no extra time for writing, here's Sunday and yesterday's "official" program journal entry
Goals:
The Washington Center’s program is offering me a condensed glimpse of what I missed by majoring in something other than political science. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fairly politically savvy. But I knew after high school that journalism was — at the time — the best major for me.
On that note, the DNC is my opportunity to set a list of extremely personal, career-oriented goals. As a senior, I’m approaching a cliché (but nevertheless terrifying) crossroads. By December or so, I have a host of decisions to make:
• Do I stick with the reporting career?
• Can I repress — do I WANT to repress — my strong political convictions enough to feel like I can honestly be a good journalist?
• Should I head to graduate school to delve into political science?
• Can I fuse a love of journalism with a passion for politics?
• Should I parlay the skills I’ve honed Missouri School of Journalism into a political career — writing speeches, working spin/pr for candidates, lobbying, engaging in punditry, etc.?
…the list goes on. My goal isn’t to hammer down concrete answers to these questions. I’m simply looking for a sense of direction. My goal is to, through my media fieldwork in a political vein, discover what makes me “tick” more: the spirit of politics and democracy, or journalism.
So, in short, my goals:
1) Through my media/political fieldwork, gain a better sense of vocation: politics, journalism, or both.
2) Through our group discussions and guest lecturers, decide if I find politics fascinating enough to pursue a graduate degree.
3) Schmooze, socialize and rub elbows to either a) gain me journalistic connections, or b) gain political connections for a post-graduate degree or career.
4) Meet Kathleen Sebelius, Larry King, Wolf Blitzer, or any of this year’s crew of folks who vied for the Democratic nomination.
I want to learn if my avid political blog consumption and rants about assorted candidates really render me the breed of political junkie that can survive among ambitious, D.C. politicians, lobbyists and reporters. I want to see if being in a veritable Disneyland for Huffington Post fans will help me decide where I’m going and what I’m doing for…well, for all I know, the rest of my life.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Reflection on the day’s activities — speakers and group discussion:
Before 10 a.m. today, I was worried about this entire experience. After all the harping on no alcohol and the hour-long icebreaker Sunday night, I suspected my parents and I just dropped $4,000+ on a program for amateurs and immature, spoiled college students. Would Missouri’s crew of students — a high-achieving, deep-thinking bunch — prove to be an anomaly…an isolated band of responsible, motivated convention-goers scattered among a bunch of kids who’re hell-bent on get trashed with big wigs at convention parties?
Fortunately, I was way too hasty to judge. Dr. Thomas Cronin quelled my fears within seconds of taking the podium. By the end of his speech, the fire was back. My God. I’m at the Democratic National Convention!
His “What ifs” ran a gambit of topics. What if…
• We had a national primary?
• Florida and Michigan hadn’t violated committee rules?
• Edwards’ affair came to light in January, forcing his campaign to end before the Iowa caucuses?
• Mitt Romney wasn’t a Mormon?
• Justice O’Connor voted for Gore over Bush, and the Gore/Lieberman team were winding down a successful eight years?
• Bloomberg and Paul ran as third-party candidates?
• Kathleen Sebelius, Claire McCaskill, Oprah, Caroline Kennedy, Ted Kennedy, etc., hadn’t endorsed Obama?
• The convention isn’t a success?
• McCain amps up national security-centric attacks on Obama?
Each question could merit pages of commentary, but for me, the real “whoa” moment was when Dr. Cronin posed this question:
What if John Kerry didn’t ask Barack Obama to do the keynote address at the 2004 DNC?
It’s this “What If?” question that ties, I think, rather neatly into the points Dr. Genovese later made about three of the flaws in the American campaign process — that it’s too long, too costly, and too media-driven. To me (an unabashed Obama supporter), Barack’s success thus far has grown from a soil of genuine political promise, media coverage weighing in his favor, and, frankly, luck.
Kerry undoubtedly picked Obama as a keynote speaker in Boston for a reason. Kerry saw had something special in this young guy — a fresh face who hadn’t even won his senate campaign. And Obama has proven he has genuine political talent. He’s a killer orator. He knows when to change his mind. He knows when — and how — to smooth over even the most seemingly insurmountable political speed bumps (e.g. Rev. Wright.)
But it would be foolish to claim that Barack Obama’s almost meteoric rise from relative political obscurity to the democratic candidacy hasn’t been largely fueled by a media and pop-culture blitz. In 2004, here was Obama: a young, eloquent black man with a message of change and, presumably , the chutzpah to back that message up. However, Obama was far from a front-runner when the campaign season started. He had his DNC keynote address, and as far as anyone on a national stage knew, that was about it.
Obama’s candidacy — tough I’m downright giddy about it — is a direct product of the three flaws in the campaign process Dr. Genovese discussed. And to answer Dr. Cronin’s Obama “what if”: If Kerry hadn’t tapped Obama for the keynote address in 2004, we’d be celebrating the Hillary Clinton or John Edwards candidacy right now.
Now noticed, Obama had a chance — because the campaign process is too long, expensive and media-centric. As primary season began, Obama was fresh, different, and from a news media standpoint, that’s downright sexy. In a world of 24-news cycles and perpetually updated political blogs, fresh blood revitalizes political coverage.
So Obama garnered more coverage than many of his rivals, and by the time the Iowa caucuses rolled around, he was a household name (though perhaps only among dyed-in-the-wool Democrats.) Thanks to political punditry, Obama was momentarily touted as the likely winner of the next contest in New Hampshire. He lost, but it didn’t matter. We media folks had a real horse race in our hands.
Because the primary season wore on so long, Obama had a chance even after the real front-runner — Clinton — claimed New Hampshire. Nearly every week, we had a new victory to tally in the Obama and/or Clinton columns. This was the race journalists fantasize about, offering something to fill those oh-so-daunting 24-hour news cycles. On and on the race dragged — but it was that length that gave Obama a fighting chance. Iowa (Illinois’ next door neighbor) truly got Obama noticed. He took advantage of what limited media exposure he could, fired up supporters at a grassroots level, and kick-started a brand new kind of campaign.
Had we had a national primary or an abbreviated campaign season, voters less familiar with this junior senator probably wouldn’t have given him the time of day, much less check his name on the ballot.
I’ve already explained why I think the length and media-centric nature of the campaign process played in favor of Obama. But there’s one more relationship I want to address, and it’s linked to the “sound byte of the day,” so I’ll segue.
Sound byte of the day: “Societal A.D.D.”
Yeah…I used my own sound byte — but only because Profs. Joliffe and Davidson suggested it!
Anyway, it ties in to a point I had trouble expressing in our group discussion. Yes, the campaign process is too media-driven and far too expensive, but Obama’s campaign beautifully took advantage of both these flaws in the system.
The nature of political coverage today really does render citizens passive. We sit and consume horse-race coverage instead of feeling like we have a personal stake in the political game. Instead of rolling over and playing dead, Obama fought voter complacency. With some of the best grassroots campaigning the Democratic party has ever seen (so far as I know), Obama not only energized his voting base, he raked in record-breaking funds for his campaign and consequently garnered still more political coverage.
Today’s news grows ever more geared toward quick consumption. Stories are broken into bite-sized pieces that news consumers can pluck for easy consumption. Lose interest? It’s okay. Click another link! Flip the channel! Watch entertainment news instead!
By engaging voters more directly (who hasn’t received umpteen e-mails from the Obama campaign?), Obama gave a society with an attention deficit something to do. Donate. Volunteer. Follow this campaign, because it’s yours. Obama raked in more and more donations, generating more and more bite-sized headlines, fueling his image as a strong candidate. Now, we’re here, celebrating his candidacy and approaching the next big “What if”…
What if America finally elects a president who isn’t an old, white guy?
Reflection re: Goals
So far, I haven’t done a ton toward my goals. However, my second goal (deciding if I find politics fascinating enough to pursue a graduate degree) is moving right along. I’m loving the politics already. So far, it looks like I’ll be applying to grad schools.
The Washington Center’s program is offering me a condensed glimpse of what I missed by majoring in something other than political science. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been fairly politically savvy. But I knew after high school that journalism was — at the time — the best major for me.
On that note, the DNC is my opportunity to set a list of extremely personal, career-oriented goals. As a senior, I’m approaching a cliché (but nevertheless terrifying) crossroads. By December or so, I have a host of decisions to make:
• Do I stick with the reporting career?
• Can I repress — do I WANT to repress — my strong political convictions enough to feel like I can honestly be a good journalist?
• Should I head to graduate school to delve into political science?
• Can I fuse a love of journalism with a passion for politics?
• Should I parlay the skills I’ve honed Missouri School of Journalism into a political career — writing speeches, working spin/pr for candidates, lobbying, engaging in punditry, etc.?
…the list goes on. My goal isn’t to hammer down concrete answers to these questions. I’m simply looking for a sense of direction. My goal is to, through my media fieldwork in a political vein, discover what makes me “tick” more: the spirit of politics and democracy, or journalism.
So, in short, my goals:
1) Through my media/political fieldwork, gain a better sense of vocation: politics, journalism, or both.
2) Through our group discussions and guest lecturers, decide if I find politics fascinating enough to pursue a graduate degree.
3) Schmooze, socialize and rub elbows to either a) gain me journalistic connections, or b) gain political connections for a post-graduate degree or career.
4) Meet Kathleen Sebelius, Larry King, Wolf Blitzer, or any of this year’s crew of folks who vied for the Democratic nomination.
I want to learn if my avid political blog consumption and rants about assorted candidates really render me the breed of political junkie that can survive among ambitious, D.C. politicians, lobbyists and reporters. I want to see if being in a veritable Disneyland for Huffington Post fans will help me decide where I’m going and what I’m doing for…well, for all I know, the rest of my life.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Reflection on the day’s activities — speakers and group discussion:
Before 10 a.m. today, I was worried about this entire experience. After all the harping on no alcohol and the hour-long icebreaker Sunday night, I suspected my parents and I just dropped $4,000+ on a program for amateurs and immature, spoiled college students. Would Missouri’s crew of students — a high-achieving, deep-thinking bunch — prove to be an anomaly…an isolated band of responsible, motivated convention-goers scattered among a bunch of kids who’re hell-bent on get trashed with big wigs at convention parties?
Fortunately, I was way too hasty to judge. Dr. Thomas Cronin quelled my fears within seconds of taking the podium. By the end of his speech, the fire was back. My God. I’m at the Democratic National Convention!
His “What ifs” ran a gambit of topics. What if…
• We had a national primary?
• Florida and Michigan hadn’t violated committee rules?
• Edwards’ affair came to light in January, forcing his campaign to end before the Iowa caucuses?
• Mitt Romney wasn’t a Mormon?
• Justice O’Connor voted for Gore over Bush, and the Gore/Lieberman team were winding down a successful eight years?
• Bloomberg and Paul ran as third-party candidates?
• Kathleen Sebelius, Claire McCaskill, Oprah, Caroline Kennedy, Ted Kennedy, etc., hadn’t endorsed Obama?
• The convention isn’t a success?
• McCain amps up national security-centric attacks on Obama?
Each question could merit pages of commentary, but for me, the real “whoa” moment was when Dr. Cronin posed this question:
What if John Kerry didn’t ask Barack Obama to do the keynote address at the 2004 DNC?
It’s this “What If?” question that ties, I think, rather neatly into the points Dr. Genovese later made about three of the flaws in the American campaign process — that it’s too long, too costly, and too media-driven. To me (an unabashed Obama supporter), Barack’s success thus far has grown from a soil of genuine political promise, media coverage weighing in his favor, and, frankly, luck.
Kerry undoubtedly picked Obama as a keynote speaker in Boston for a reason. Kerry saw had something special in this young guy — a fresh face who hadn’t even won his senate campaign. And Obama has proven he has genuine political talent. He’s a killer orator. He knows when to change his mind. He knows when — and how — to smooth over even the most seemingly insurmountable political speed bumps (e.g. Rev. Wright.)
But it would be foolish to claim that Barack Obama’s almost meteoric rise from relative political obscurity to the democratic candidacy hasn’t been largely fueled by a media and pop-culture blitz. In 2004, here was Obama: a young, eloquent black man with a message of change and, presumably , the chutzpah to back that message up. However, Obama was far from a front-runner when the campaign season started. He had his DNC keynote address, and as far as anyone on a national stage knew, that was about it.
Obama’s candidacy — tough I’m downright giddy about it — is a direct product of the three flaws in the campaign process Dr. Genovese discussed. And to answer Dr. Cronin’s Obama “what if”: If Kerry hadn’t tapped Obama for the keynote address in 2004, we’d be celebrating the Hillary Clinton or John Edwards candidacy right now.
Now noticed, Obama had a chance — because the campaign process is too long, expensive and media-centric. As primary season began, Obama was fresh, different, and from a news media standpoint, that’s downright sexy. In a world of 24-news cycles and perpetually updated political blogs, fresh blood revitalizes political coverage.
So Obama garnered more coverage than many of his rivals, and by the time the Iowa caucuses rolled around, he was a household name (though perhaps only among dyed-in-the-wool Democrats.) Thanks to political punditry, Obama was momentarily touted as the likely winner of the next contest in New Hampshire. He lost, but it didn’t matter. We media folks had a real horse race in our hands.
Because the primary season wore on so long, Obama had a chance even after the real front-runner — Clinton — claimed New Hampshire. Nearly every week, we had a new victory to tally in the Obama and/or Clinton columns. This was the race journalists fantasize about, offering something to fill those oh-so-daunting 24-hour news cycles. On and on the race dragged — but it was that length that gave Obama a fighting chance. Iowa (Illinois’ next door neighbor) truly got Obama noticed. He took advantage of what limited media exposure he could, fired up supporters at a grassroots level, and kick-started a brand new kind of campaign.
Had we had a national primary or an abbreviated campaign season, voters less familiar with this junior senator probably wouldn’t have given him the time of day, much less check his name on the ballot.
I’ve already explained why I think the length and media-centric nature of the campaign process played in favor of Obama. But there’s one more relationship I want to address, and it’s linked to the “sound byte of the day,” so I’ll segue.
Sound byte of the day: “Societal A.D.D.”
Yeah…I used my own sound byte — but only because Profs. Joliffe and Davidson suggested it!
Anyway, it ties in to a point I had trouble expressing in our group discussion. Yes, the campaign process is too media-driven and far too expensive, but Obama’s campaign beautifully took advantage of both these flaws in the system.
The nature of political coverage today really does render citizens passive. We sit and consume horse-race coverage instead of feeling like we have a personal stake in the political game. Instead of rolling over and playing dead, Obama fought voter complacency. With some of the best grassroots campaigning the Democratic party has ever seen (so far as I know), Obama not only energized his voting base, he raked in record-breaking funds for his campaign and consequently garnered still more political coverage.
Today’s news grows ever more geared toward quick consumption. Stories are broken into bite-sized pieces that news consumers can pluck for easy consumption. Lose interest? It’s okay. Click another link! Flip the channel! Watch entertainment news instead!
By engaging voters more directly (who hasn’t received umpteen e-mails from the Obama campaign?), Obama gave a society with an attention deficit something to do. Donate. Volunteer. Follow this campaign, because it’s yours. Obama raked in more and more donations, generating more and more bite-sized headlines, fueling his image as a strong candidate. Now, we’re here, celebrating his candidacy and approaching the next big “What if”…
What if America finally elects a president who isn’t an old, white guy?
Reflection re: Goals
So far, I haven’t done a ton toward my goals. However, my second goal (deciding if I find politics fascinating enough to pursue a graduate degree) is moving right along. I’m loving the politics already. So far, it looks like I’ll be applying to grad schools.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Just arrived
After cruising miles upon miles of barren, Kansas highways, we're finally in Denver...and I'm literally too tired to muse about it. So I'm taking a nap.
More later.
More later.
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