Democratic National Convention - Denver, Colorado 2008
My impressions of the DNC August 25th – 28th
Long security lines at the airport. Sleep depravation. Too many parties. Million dollar handshakes. Free drinks at the McCain bar for Hillary Clinton delegates. Feeling light-headed. Chasing down Congressman Jim McDermott. Where’s the next event? What’s your name? Where are you from? Obama or Clinton, where do you stand?
Where’s my luggage? Where is my digital recorder? Do they really need to search me again? You can keep my fingernail clippers if you like. My press credential aren’t enough? Yes, I’m a reporter for KBCS and Pacifica. No, I don’t have any weapons. Yes, I’m going to stay for the convention. Yes, I have a place to stay, thank you very much. Why is this line so long? I’ve been here for hours. How long have you been standing here? I’m going to miss that speech. My editors will be pissed!
Meanwhile, outside on the streets, Iraq Veterans Against the War were marching to the Pepsi Center facing threats of tear gas. One hundred thirty-five arrests. Code Pink women singing anti-war somgs – “We Shall Overcome”. Rage Against The Machine throwing a free concert at the coliseum. Pepper spray, unwarranted detainment, dispersal orders, an officially designated “protest-zone” (Where are my First Amendment Rights?). Denver police in riot gear wearing no name tags for indentification, Hmmm…kind of reminds me of Seattle during the WTO protests. What’s that smell? Call over the legal observers. Quick, someone get a photo of this!
Folks from the 911 truth movement are there to hand out DVD’s. Someone mentions that Alex Jones is here. Hey, what does Ralph Nader have to say about 911? Anythng?
American Indian Movement representatives were dismissing the entire political spectacle as just another hoodwink. “Where are the representatives of the indigenous people inside that convention?” “There are oppressed people all over the world that they just walk on like they are garbage…”
An Obama delegate says to me, “I’m really concerned about what happened on 911.
I was talking to some people outside who gave me a DVD. Do you think they’re crazy?”
Security checks, background checks, being elbowed in the back by the Fox camerman.
Why are the corporate reporters always so crass? I’m exhausted after traveling and staying up all night. I admit I lost my temper. I said,
“Did you get your little five second sound bite? Oh, isn’t that cute. He’s leaving now.
Don’t stay too long, you might miss something.”
“No, I’m not drunk. Why don’t you go home now and let us cover this event? You’ll just use your footage for more propaganda.”
“What’s that? What about my long hair? No, I don’t need a haircut. This isn’t 1950. Why don’t you take your Brooks Brother’s jacket and hit the road and stop acting like a punk. What did you say?”
The Fox guy looks like he’d like to do something he’d probably regret. Fortunately, cooler heads prevail.
Where’s the food? Where’s the lounge? Who’s that coming out of that hotel? Is that Jimmy Carter? No, it’s Bill Clinton!
I see many diverse faces among the Obama delegates on the floor of the convention center. Cold icy stares from the Clinton supporters. Who’s going to get control of that huge money-making machine? Shouldn’t the Clintons and Obama just arm wrestle for it?
I see another sign at the protest – “911 – Ask Questions!”
A woman from Brazil, a photographer asks me, “Do you think any of these politicians will ever tell the truth about the trade towers? Do they even want to know? Where is Bin Laden and why hasn’t he been held to justice by your country?”
Finally he speaks. It’s the 45th anniversary of Martin Luther King’s “I Have A Dream” speech. The crowd is exuberant. They are witnessing history right before their eyes. Women begin to cry. Grown men shout like excited children. People hug each other and kiss total strangers. Is this the moment we’ve all been waiting for? Will it really matter? Will the United States finally enter the 21st century?
I see a beautiful family up on the stage. Fireworks are shooting over our heads. Tons of confetti come down from above. Streamers are flying, the crowd is elated. The media is amazed. The neo-cons frown. They ask themselves, “How did this happen?” The Democratic party leaders are asking themselves, “Why didn’t we see didn’t see this coming?!” Party hacks are getting drunk off the realization that something new is being born. They don’t know quite what to do with it. Surely they can turn this into just another mad dash for money, can’t they?
Meanwhile, out on the streets, police are lining up to block another group of demonstrators who are trying to get close to the delegates. A police captain picks up his megaphone and declares, “Anyone in this vicinity will be arrested unless you disperse.
We will use pepper spray and tear gas to clear the area. Leave immediately or you will be arrested!”
A quick response by the Obama team avoids another riot. But on Monday 91 people were arrested. Tonight a rep from his campaign meets with the veterans and they deliver their letter. “Leave Iraq immediately, give aid to the returning veterans, and make reparations to the Iraqi people.”
Barack Obama’s assistant on veterans affairs meets with the IVAW, takes the letter and goes back inside the ivory tower of officialdom. Delegates are still arguing over Hillary versus Barack and corporate logos cover everything. I follow the protesters home as they celebrate their small victory and this democracy on parade. But deep inside, I wonder if it will amount to anything at all…
