Democratic National Convention, Day 3
It's Day 3 of the Convention, and nothing is happening.
That's not completely true. Somewhere out there, according to what I hear on the wrap ups, Dennis Kucinich gave a stirring speech. I take this on blind faith, because I saw nothing of it on the televised coverage. Tonight John Edwards speaks in prime time, and until then it's nothing but blather.
I've pretty much settled on MSNBC as my primary source for Convention coverage. The first night I went with CNN, figuring they'd be the least biased. They also seemed to have the best sound, oddly enough. Even now, speakers who sound muffled on MSNBC come across loud and clear on CNN. But you're also stuck with Larry King. Apparently, Larry's show is regularly scheduled for 9 pm Eastern Time, and he's not about to give it up just for some freakin' convention. So every night at 8, Chicago time, Wolf Blitzer goes away and Larry King takes over. MSNBC features Chris Matthews for their entire coverage, in some live, extended Hardball format. That I should prefer Chris Matthews over anyone (other than Bill "Satan" O'Reilly) gives you an idea of how much I cannot abide Larry King.
Matthews has actually been fairly well behaved the past few nights. Unlike the fux at FOX, he has enough of an open mind that he can respond positively to the likes of Barack Obama and Teresa Heinz Kerry, who I think he has a crush on. Tonight he interviewed the Democratic governor of Virginia, and let him have his say, even when 1) he wasn't answering Matthews' questions, and 2) he was repeating himself. Matthews has actually gotten fairly comfortable with people not answering his questions, perhaps because no one ever does. Tonight, his prime question is, "Is Edwards capable of being president, or was he chosen just to enhance the ticket?" The correct answer, according to Matthews, is B, he was chosen just to enhance the ticket, and everyone knows it (since he repeats it endlessly), so everyone just humors him. Part of Matthews' dislike for Edwards (though he does praise his speech) stems from the fact that he also has a crush on Dick Cheney. Tonight in particular, he mentions Cheney's name so many times that I become Dracula's daughter and scream, "Will you stop talking about that Dick!!!"
When I tune in, at 7 pm CDT (as all times will be from here on out) - which for me is prime time - some black man is ranting in the distance. And no, it's not Al Sharpton. And it doesn't sound like Jesse Jackson, though I hear he spoke today. I assume it's a black man, but it could be a white woman with a deep voice and a Baptist preacher style. Ron Reagan told us last night that the inclination is to shout, since the hall is so loud you can't hear yourself think. The Dems have put together an instructional video of Dos and Don'ts, and are priming the speakers before they go on. Apparently whoever's on stage now missed the lesson. In addition to speaking conversationally, since the directional mic will pick up your voice no matter what, the tutors encourage you not to hold too long for laughter or applause, because the din never completely dies down. They apparently have a clip of Jack Kemp delivering an address during which minutes seem to pass while he stares out at the audience. This tip may be why some speakers seem to be rushing through applause, but I'm happy they're keeping up the pace.
The first speaker I get to see, about 20 minutes in, is Al Sharpton, who doesn't need any instruction. He's here to rally the troops, and rally he does. Apparently Al was given 6 minutes to speak, and took 20, which causes some consternation among the pundits but not among the Party, which has scheduled 30 minutes of flab time into the evening, for just such an event. I feel two things. One, when has Al Sharpton ever spoken for 6 minutes? For him, that's a breakfast order. And two, you invite Al Sharpton, you take what you get.
Over the course of the primary season and some 20 debates on the trail, Al has toned down his appearance. He now looks like Toni Morrison in male drag. But he's brought the old fashioned hootin' and hollerin' and the crowd loves it. It takes a fiery black preacher to get fat white grandmas rolling their fists in the air and whooping it up.
And I'm right there with them. I know as well as anyone that Al is at least 60% clown, but he's a hell of a speaker and a great entertainer and you can't help but get swept away. He injects some serious Bush-bashing into a party that has for the most part been civil, and we're happy to cut loose. He opens by saying he's going to answer Bush's questions to the Urban League last week, so you know there's trouble ahead. It's hard to summarize Sharpton, because he's all over the place, but here are a few sound bites.
On Iraq: "When it became clear that there were no weapons, they changed the premise for the war. ... If I told you tonight, 'Let's leave the Fleet Center, we're in danger,' and when you get outside you ask me, 'Reverend Al, what is the danger?' and I say, 'It don't matter, we just needed some fresh air,' I have misled you and we were misled."
On impending openings on the Supreme Court: "I suggest to you tonight that if George Bush had selected the Court in '54, Clarence Thomas would never have gotten to law school."
On English as an official language: "No one gave them an English test before they sent them to Iraq to fight for America."
On electoral rights for DC citizens: "It, to me, is a glaring contradiction that we would fight, and rightfully so, to get the right to vote for the people in the capital of Iraq, in Baghdad, but still don't give the federal right to vote for the people in the capital of the United States in Washington, DC."
Such is Al's power that each point, disconnected as it is, gets a bigger and bigger response. Then finally, in his closing, Al gets to Bush's suggestion that the Democratic Party takes black voters for granted, and that they'd be better off with the Republicans. Sharpton falls back on the 40 acres and a mule trope, but spins it this way: "We never got the 40 acres. We didn't get the mule. So we decided we'd ride this donkey as far as it would take us." The crowd is on their feet, cheering for nearly a full minute (53 seconds by my watch) before he can continue. He follows up on the relationship of African Americans and the Democratic Party until he culminates with, "In all respect, Mr. President, read my lips: Our vote is not for sale."
This is too much for Chris Matthews, who starts talking over Sharpton's speech, telling us that this is a guy who started his career with a lie, and then goes into the Tawana Brawley story. I can't argue his point, and wouldn't care to if I could. I'm not that big a Sharpton fan. It's Matthews, just 20 minutes earlier, who was going on about what a great speaker Sharpton is and how entertaining he is and joking - joking! - about which came first, Al or Bonfire of the Vanities (which he credits to Thomas Wolfe). So it seems a bit disingenuous, at best, for him now to be shocked by his rhetoric. Also, I want to remind him that as a commentator, his job is to respond to the speakers rather than interrupt them.
Instead, I switch to CNN.
Al's pretty much done as it is. The concern of the pundits - in addition to whether or not John and Elizabeth Edwards will make it into their prime time slot (short answer: easily) is whether the speech is "on message." They remind us, for the hundredth time, that this convention is all about staying positive, and that no one's supposed to attack Bush or the Republican Party, except maybe Jimmy Carter. They imagine how the organizers of the Convention are responding, and I think, Is there really anyone who was surprised by this? Sure, all the failed candidates got a chance to speak, but Carol Moseley Braun was at 4 in the afternoon and Dick Gephardt's working the panels. Jesse Jackson spoke today, but he didn't end up in prime time. As far as I can tell, the only ones who spoke in the evening were Sharpton and Howard Dean (and supposedly Dennis Kucinich, out there, somewhere). The Dems had the sense to schedule him at 7, knowing the networks weren't picking up the feed until 9, so the only ones who saw him were those who know better.
At the same time, I notice a story scrolling by at the bottom of the screen. As you may have read, computer crashes in Florida have deleted electronic voting records for Miami-Dade County. The records in question were detailed data from the 2002 gubernatorial primary, which may seem insignificant. Indeed, a spokesperson for the Secretary of State maintains that "There's a very distinct difference between votes being lost and data that they are required to retain for 22 months being lost." This is a compelling argument for anyone who's never used a computer. In my experience, it's far easier to lose new data in a crash than old data. Further troubling is that the data was lost more than 8 months ago, and is just being reported now. Suddenly, Sharpton's concerns about disenfranchisement in Florida seem less remote.
Meanwhile, nothing happens for another 90 minutes.
Then, just after 9, Cate Edwards appears. Cate is the oldest daughter of John and Elizabeth, and she's cute as a bug, but she kind of sounds like she's from The O.C., so there's only so much I can take of her. Cate is there to introduce Liz who will introduce John. They're like Russian nesting dolls. After the speech, the Edwards' two smallest children are brought out, so you can complete the set.
Cate describes her mom as both as lawyer and a PTA member, and when Elizabeth comes out, she is the soccer mom incarnate. She wears cool blue, in contrast to Teresa's fiery red, and their difference in dress reflects their difference in style. Elizabeth is cute and round and cheery, and she would never tell you to shove it. As she describes her husband, she makes him sound like a hell of a Rotarian.
Finally John appears, as the sound system blares "(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher." The entire evening has been scored by hits from 20 to 30 years ago (or in this case, nearly 40), in an attempt to recapture Bill Clinton's love affair with Fleetwood Mac. The Edwards camp favors the Jackie Wilson version over the Bette Midler remake, which isn't surprising for such nice clean people. The happy couple embraces - no Gorrifying smooch - and it's good that Elizabeth is so diminutive, because she makes John look less like a hobbit. Officially, he's 6 feet tall, but that must involve 2 inch lifts. He's also 51 years old, but looks at least 20 years younger. Either the devil has his name on a piece of parchment or there's a painting in his attic that looks like, well, John Kerry.
Edwards opens by remarking what a great job Teresa did last night. It's always good to suck up to the boss's wife. He also says, "Now, you know why Elizabeth is so amazing." Umm, 'cause she likes you? Liz had about 2 minutes and didn't reveal much more than that. After mentioning the rest of his sprawling brood, he offers a heartfelt tribute to his parents, who are present, and I think, "This will play in Peoria."
When Edwards discusses Kerry, he immediately and wisely places him in the role of Commander in Chief. These guys know that national security is where they've got to beef up their numbers, so while he's happy to let others talk happy talk, Edwards opens with the big guns. Then he grabs the values card, saying, "Where I come from, you don't judge someone's values based on how they use that word in a political ad. You judge their values based upon what they've spent their life doing. So when a man volunteers to serve his country, and puts his life on the line for others - that's a man who represents real American values." He follows that with an attack on attack ads, accusing the Republicans of "doing all they can to take this campaign for the highest office in the land down the lowest possible road." I hear this Edwards character is a lawyer. Almost immediately he issues what we in the marketing game refer to as "a call to action:" "This is where you come in. ... you can reject the tired, old, hateful, negative, politics of the past. And instead you can embrace the politics of hope, the politics of what's possible because this is America, where everything is possible."
This will play in Peoria.
By 9:30, Edwards has launched into his "Two Americas" stump speech. All of the reporters and most of the faithful have heard it before, but tonight Edwards is talking to the people at home. He is the first speaker since Clinton on Monday night to specifically speak beyond the hall, directly to the electorate. The speech is fairly simple: there are two Americas, one for those with money and another for those who work and struggle and can't get ahead. But as he spins it through its various iterations - health care, education, economy - you can see he's buffed it to a high gloss finish. And for a change, someone gives specifics. He talks dollars, and you think, at least for the moment, "Hey. Maybe he's serious."
[One thing he talks about is offering tax breaks for American companies that keep jobs at home and close those for companies that outsource. And I'm thinking, if we stopped offering any tax breaks to companies with more than, say, 100 employees and closed the sort of loopholes that allowed companies to incorporate in the Cayman Islands, we'd pay down the deficit in a year and a half.]
There's one topic that makes Edwards an old style Democrat in this New Democrat era: he addresses poverty. For him, it's a moral issue: allowing poverty to exist in the richest country in the world is morally wrong. And after years of hearing that premarital sex is wrong, that men sleeping together is wrong, that getting an abortion is wrong, hearing a politician state that allowing poverty is wrong is heartening. It's 1964.
As Edwards heads into the stretch, he launches into a series of short statements that ends with what he expects will be the rallying cry of this campaign: Hope is on the way. As he continues, the audience chants with him, holding up their "Hope Is On the Way" placards, just as they all shook their blue "Elizabeth" signs earlier and their red "Teresa" sign yesterday, and their long "Edwards" signs all along, and I'm thinking, "Whoever has the sign franchise for this event is making out like a bandit."
But I'm also thinking, this will play in Peoria.
Now it's up to Kerry to see if he can top Edwards. It's lucky for him that the bar has been set so low. Everyone expects him to be a stiff, so if he pulls it off at all, it's a triumph. But after Obama and Clinton and now Edwards, he really needs to knock it out of the park. Kerry goes up at 9 tonight, Chicago time, following veteran soldier and senator Max Cleland and a cadre of Kerry's fellows from the war. If it's anything like last night, it will be preceded by plenty of nothing, so I can't encourage you to tune in early.
That's not completely true. Somewhere out there, according to what I hear on the wrap ups, Dennis Kucinich gave a stirring speech. I take this on blind faith, because I saw nothing of it on the televised coverage. Tonight John Edwards speaks in prime time, and until then it's nothing but blather.
I've pretty much settled on MSNBC as my primary source for Convention coverage. The first night I went with CNN, figuring they'd be the least biased. They also seemed to have the best sound, oddly enough. Even now, speakers who sound muffled on MSNBC come across loud and clear on CNN. But you're also stuck with Larry King. Apparently, Larry's show is regularly scheduled for 9 pm Eastern Time, and he's not about to give it up just for some freakin' convention. So every night at 8, Chicago time, Wolf Blitzer goes away and Larry King takes over. MSNBC features Chris Matthews for their entire coverage, in some live, extended Hardball format. That I should prefer Chris Matthews over anyone (other than Bill "Satan" O'Reilly) gives you an idea of how much I cannot abide Larry King.
Matthews has actually been fairly well behaved the past few nights. Unlike the fux at FOX, he has enough of an open mind that he can respond positively to the likes of Barack Obama and Teresa Heinz Kerry, who I think he has a crush on. Tonight he interviewed the Democratic governor of Virginia, and let him have his say, even when 1) he wasn't answering Matthews' questions, and 2) he was repeating himself. Matthews has actually gotten fairly comfortable with people not answering his questions, perhaps because no one ever does. Tonight, his prime question is, "Is Edwards capable of being president, or was he chosen just to enhance the ticket?" The correct answer, according to Matthews, is B, he was chosen just to enhance the ticket, and everyone knows it (since he repeats it endlessly), so everyone just humors him. Part of Matthews' dislike for Edwards (though he does praise his speech) stems from the fact that he also has a crush on Dick Cheney. Tonight in particular, he mentions Cheney's name so many times that I become Dracula's daughter and scream, "Will you stop talking about that Dick!!!"
When I tune in, at 7 pm CDT (as all times will be from here on out) - which for me is prime time - some black man is ranting in the distance. And no, it's not Al Sharpton. And it doesn't sound like Jesse Jackson, though I hear he spoke today. I assume it's a black man, but it could be a white woman with a deep voice and a Baptist preacher style. Ron Reagan told us last night that the inclination is to shout, since the hall is so loud you can't hear yourself think. The Dems have put together an instructional video of Dos and Don'ts, and are priming the speakers before they go on. Apparently whoever's on stage now missed the lesson. In addition to speaking conversationally, since the directional mic will pick up your voice no matter what, the tutors encourage you not to hold too long for laughter or applause, because the din never completely dies down. They apparently have a clip of Jack Kemp delivering an address during which minutes seem to pass while he stares out at the audience. This tip may be why some speakers seem to be rushing through applause, but I'm happy they're keeping up the pace.
The first speaker I get to see, about 20 minutes in, is Al Sharpton, who doesn't need any instruction. He's here to rally the troops, and rally he does. Apparently Al was given 6 minutes to speak, and took 20, which causes some consternation among the pundits but not among the Party, which has scheduled 30 minutes of flab time into the evening, for just such an event. I feel two things. One, when has Al Sharpton ever spoken for 6 minutes? For him, that's a breakfast order. And two, you invite Al Sharpton, you take what you get.
Over the course of the primary season and some 20 debates on the trail, Al has toned down his appearance. He now looks like Toni Morrison in male drag. But he's brought the old fashioned hootin' and hollerin' and the crowd loves it. It takes a fiery black preacher to get fat white grandmas rolling their fists in the air and whooping it up.
And I'm right there with them. I know as well as anyone that Al is at least 60% clown, but he's a hell of a speaker and a great entertainer and you can't help but get swept away. He injects some serious Bush-bashing into a party that has for the most part been civil, and we're happy to cut loose. He opens by saying he's going to answer Bush's questions to the Urban League last week, so you know there's trouble ahead. It's hard to summarize Sharpton, because he's all over the place, but here are a few sound bites.
On Iraq: "When it became clear that there were no weapons, they changed the premise for the war. ... If I told you tonight, 'Let's leave the Fleet Center, we're in danger,' and when you get outside you ask me, 'Reverend Al, what is the danger?' and I say, 'It don't matter, we just needed some fresh air,' I have misled you and we were misled."
On impending openings on the Supreme Court: "I suggest to you tonight that if George Bush had selected the Court in '54, Clarence Thomas would never have gotten to law school."
On English as an official language: "No one gave them an English test before they sent them to Iraq to fight for America."
On electoral rights for DC citizens: "It, to me, is a glaring contradiction that we would fight, and rightfully so, to get the right to vote for the people in the capital of Iraq, in Baghdad, but still don't give the federal right to vote for the people in the capital of the United States in Washington, DC."
Such is Al's power that each point, disconnected as it is, gets a bigger and bigger response. Then finally, in his closing, Al gets to Bush's suggestion that the Democratic Party takes black voters for granted, and that they'd be better off with the Republicans. Sharpton falls back on the 40 acres and a mule trope, but spins it this way: "We never got the 40 acres. We didn't get the mule. So we decided we'd ride this donkey as far as it would take us." The crowd is on their feet, cheering for nearly a full minute (53 seconds by my watch) before he can continue. He follows up on the relationship of African Americans and the Democratic Party until he culminates with, "In all respect, Mr. President, read my lips: Our vote is not for sale."
This is too much for Chris Matthews, who starts talking over Sharpton's speech, telling us that this is a guy who started his career with a lie, and then goes into the Tawana Brawley story. I can't argue his point, and wouldn't care to if I could. I'm not that big a Sharpton fan. It's Matthews, just 20 minutes earlier, who was going on about what a great speaker Sharpton is and how entertaining he is and joking - joking! - about which came first, Al or Bonfire of the Vanities (which he credits to Thomas Wolfe). So it seems a bit disingenuous, at best, for him now to be shocked by his rhetoric. Also, I want to remind him that as a commentator, his job is to respond to the speakers rather than interrupt them.
Instead, I switch to CNN.
Al's pretty much done as it is. The concern of the pundits - in addition to whether or not John and Elizabeth Edwards will make it into their prime time slot (short answer: easily) is whether the speech is "on message." They remind us, for the hundredth time, that this convention is all about staying positive, and that no one's supposed to attack Bush or the Republican Party, except maybe Jimmy Carter. They imagine how the organizers of the Convention are responding, and I think, Is there really anyone who was surprised by this? Sure, all the failed candidates got a chance to speak, but Carol Moseley Braun was at 4 in the afternoon and Dick Gephardt's working the panels. Jesse Jackson spoke today, but he didn't end up in prime time. As far as I can tell, the only ones who spoke in the evening were Sharpton and Howard Dean (and supposedly Dennis Kucinich, out there, somewhere). The Dems had the sense to schedule him at 7, knowing the networks weren't picking up the feed until 9, so the only ones who saw him were those who know better.
At the same time, I notice a story scrolling by at the bottom of the screen. As you may have read, computer crashes in Florida have deleted electronic voting records for Miami-Dade County. The records in question were detailed data from the 2002 gubernatorial primary, which may seem insignificant. Indeed, a spokesperson for the Secretary of State maintains that "There's a very distinct difference between votes being lost and data that they are required to retain for 22 months being lost." This is a compelling argument for anyone who's never used a computer. In my experience, it's far easier to lose new data in a crash than old data. Further troubling is that the data was lost more than 8 months ago, and is just being reported now. Suddenly, Sharpton's concerns about disenfranchisement in Florida seem less remote.
Meanwhile, nothing happens for another 90 minutes.
Then, just after 9, Cate Edwards appears. Cate is the oldest daughter of John and Elizabeth, and she's cute as a bug, but she kind of sounds like she's from The O.C., so there's only so much I can take of her. Cate is there to introduce Liz who will introduce John. They're like Russian nesting dolls. After the speech, the Edwards' two smallest children are brought out, so you can complete the set.
Cate describes her mom as both as lawyer and a PTA member, and when Elizabeth comes out, she is the soccer mom incarnate. She wears cool blue, in contrast to Teresa's fiery red, and their difference in dress reflects their difference in style. Elizabeth is cute and round and cheery, and she would never tell you to shove it. As she describes her husband, she makes him sound like a hell of a Rotarian.
Finally John appears, as the sound system blares "(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher." The entire evening has been scored by hits from 20 to 30 years ago (or in this case, nearly 40), in an attempt to recapture Bill Clinton's love affair with Fleetwood Mac. The Edwards camp favors the Jackie Wilson version over the Bette Midler remake, which isn't surprising for such nice clean people. The happy couple embraces - no Gorrifying smooch - and it's good that Elizabeth is so diminutive, because she makes John look less like a hobbit. Officially, he's 6 feet tall, but that must involve 2 inch lifts. He's also 51 years old, but looks at least 20 years younger. Either the devil has his name on a piece of parchment or there's a painting in his attic that looks like, well, John Kerry.
Edwards opens by remarking what a great job Teresa did last night. It's always good to suck up to the boss's wife. He also says, "Now, you know why Elizabeth is so amazing." Umm, 'cause she likes you? Liz had about 2 minutes and didn't reveal much more than that. After mentioning the rest of his sprawling brood, he offers a heartfelt tribute to his parents, who are present, and I think, "This will play in Peoria."
When Edwards discusses Kerry, he immediately and wisely places him in the role of Commander in Chief. These guys know that national security is where they've got to beef up their numbers, so while he's happy to let others talk happy talk, Edwards opens with the big guns. Then he grabs the values card, saying, "Where I come from, you don't judge someone's values based on how they use that word in a political ad. You judge their values based upon what they've spent their life doing. So when a man volunteers to serve his country, and puts his life on the line for others - that's a man who represents real American values." He follows that with an attack on attack ads, accusing the Republicans of "doing all they can to take this campaign for the highest office in the land down the lowest possible road." I hear this Edwards character is a lawyer. Almost immediately he issues what we in the marketing game refer to as "a call to action:" "This is where you come in. ... you can reject the tired, old, hateful, negative, politics of the past. And instead you can embrace the politics of hope, the politics of what's possible because this is America, where everything is possible."
This will play in Peoria.
By 9:30, Edwards has launched into his "Two Americas" stump speech. All of the reporters and most of the faithful have heard it before, but tonight Edwards is talking to the people at home. He is the first speaker since Clinton on Monday night to specifically speak beyond the hall, directly to the electorate. The speech is fairly simple: there are two Americas, one for those with money and another for those who work and struggle and can't get ahead. But as he spins it through its various iterations - health care, education, economy - you can see he's buffed it to a high gloss finish. And for a change, someone gives specifics. He talks dollars, and you think, at least for the moment, "Hey. Maybe he's serious."
[One thing he talks about is offering tax breaks for American companies that keep jobs at home and close those for companies that outsource. And I'm thinking, if we stopped offering any tax breaks to companies with more than, say, 100 employees and closed the sort of loopholes that allowed companies to incorporate in the Cayman Islands, we'd pay down the deficit in a year and a half.]
There's one topic that makes Edwards an old style Democrat in this New Democrat era: he addresses poverty. For him, it's a moral issue: allowing poverty to exist in the richest country in the world is morally wrong. And after years of hearing that premarital sex is wrong, that men sleeping together is wrong, that getting an abortion is wrong, hearing a politician state that allowing poverty is wrong is heartening. It's 1964.
As Edwards heads into the stretch, he launches into a series of short statements that ends with what he expects will be the rallying cry of this campaign: Hope is on the way. As he continues, the audience chants with him, holding up their "Hope Is On the Way" placards, just as they all shook their blue "Elizabeth" signs earlier and their red "Teresa" sign yesterday, and their long "Edwards" signs all along, and I'm thinking, "Whoever has the sign franchise for this event is making out like a bandit."
But I'm also thinking, this will play in Peoria.
Now it's up to Kerry to see if he can top Edwards. It's lucky for him that the bar has been set so low. Everyone expects him to be a stiff, so if he pulls it off at all, it's a triumph. But after Obama and Clinton and now Edwards, he really needs to knock it out of the park. Kerry goes up at 9 tonight, Chicago time, following veteran soldier and senator Max Cleland and a cadre of Kerry's fellows from the war. If it's anything like last night, it will be preceded by plenty of nothing, so I can't encourage you to tune in early.
posted by John Bliss at
10:13 AM
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