I adore the national conventions. They’re like a rather embarrassing dinner party where the grown-ups have drunk too much wine. There’s the fun of “spot the celebrity” (”Oh, look! There’s Walter Mondale!”) and the head-shaking as Dad digs out his records (”Oh, puh-leaze don’t play ‘We Are Family’ again.”). There’s the utter proof that people committed to making America a better place — regardless of their beliefs — have no rhythm. And then there’s the crazy aunts and uncles with way too many buttons and floppy hats. They haven’t been outside Iowa in years.
I just love it. It’s silly. It’s not really news. But for four days, there’s a group of people that just seem so happy to be together and listen to speeches and bounce to disco.
Tonight, the Democrats booed Fox News’ banner when they had to look in that direction for the group picture. Hooray!
My major disappointment is missing Andre 3000 of Outkast on the floor, but the AP snapped a picture of him.
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