August 2004

When Scholom and Lefty went to the Democratic Convention for an Evening
Letter from Massachusetts

A few weeks ago (you may have heard if you listened very closely to the mass media) the Democrats were having their quadrennial convention at the soon to be renamed Fleet Center in downtown Boston. Since Lefty and I are only fifteen minutes away by public transportation (a hour by private), we decided that we should check it out.

Checking out conventions is nothing new to me. In 1992 the Democrats had their quadrennial convention in New York's Madison Square Garden. Since I lived there at the time, it was no problem to go by the Garden and see what the hubbub was. Though there was not much to see, there were a lot of people giving out all sorts of buttons: Tsongas, Brown, Harkin, and Kerrey (not John Forbes). And since this was New York, the crazy person quota was more than fulfilled. Overall, I had a decent time hanging out by the Garden that summer day back in '92.

This time around my only expectation at this quadrennial (sorry, but how many times does one get to write quadrennial) Democratic convention, was to get a few buttons. I was really jonesing for a Sharpton button. He is way cool! Totally! He had given his "off-the-cuff" speech the night before and had put all of the fair, balanced, and right wing pundant's knickers (yet they all wear women's underwear) in a twist. By forcing THEM from their scripts, they could only say he had singlehandedly killed the Democrat party for eternity and there was no one else to vote for but Bush.

I had heard from a colleague that Faneuil Hall and other places around the soon to be renamed Fleet Center are worth checking out as well. So, we got off at Park Street and headed towards our destination, about a mile or two away.

Not a block away, right in front of Sam Adams' plot, dozens of people were hanging around, and, well, loitering. Across the street, in an alley way next to a hotel, there were several jet black SUVs with blacked out windows, and cops with silent sirens (lights only), which were also chilling. I guess someone famous was either passed out in the alley way or in the hotel, and no one seemed to know which. After several minutes of joining the large crew of loiterers, Lefty and I decided we were done being stupid, and walked on.

A few blocks on was Faneuil Hall or Quincy Market. They really are the same thing. A few plaques and a decent size tourist trap. There was a large crowd hanging around a blue tent that, from its center, emanated a white glow. Either all of these folks were witnessing the beginning of the second coming (and why Jesus would choose to send the Democrats to hell first I don't know, but I am sure the man I am about to introduce would have an answer), or it was live TV. Guess which one it was dear reader... Yes! Plain old TV. And then I heard that loud, obnoxious, self-righteous Aryan voice of Chris Matthews, pundent extraordinare. He was live and baiting some poor shumck who was helping this asshole gain ratings. I thought it would be awesome if Lefty and I yelled FUCK!!! as loud as we could. This would go on the air and Mr. Matthews would have to pain a large FCC fine for airing the deadliest of the seven deadly words. Alas, poor Yorick, Lefty would not yell FUCK!!. She can be no fun sometimes. (Sorry, I work in radio and am therefor terrified by the current FCC obscenity witch hunt. I don't even wish it on Chis Matthews, that right-wing asshat. -Lefty)

After leaving the tourist trap Faneuil Hall/Quincy Market, we were off to our true destination. Since this is Boston, I got lost walking there. The most holy of holies did help guide the way. Jersey Barriers. After we had cross a fortress of them, we knew we had reached our destination.

As we approached it we saw dinners eating outside, people like ourselves there to see what was happening, some anarchist teenagers protesting the fact that government exists, but not a single soul hawking political paraphernalia. There were no button sellers, or even stupid bumper stickers. DAMN! I did see some snipers in camouflage, with very large guns, helmets and body armor. They were just chillin' on the remains of the once mighty, ugly and useless central artery. If they thought that jungle camouflage was doing anything to cover them on an elevated highway, they were sadly mistaken. I saw them as clear as day. I was not going to take it up with them, but I did wave! As we walking towards the soon to be renamed Fleet Center, a couple of folks from Comedy Central kindly accosted us. One had a microphone and the other had a camera. Since we are Daily Show fans, we asked if any of the correspondents were around. They said no, they were inside; but would we participate in an interview for the Comedy Central web-site. I knew we should say no, but we said yes. We gave a stupid and moronic interview. Hopefully the gods shone on us and they just recorded over it with the next hip looking couple.

But the gods still had no fucking buttons for me!

Afterwards we headed towards the corner. On the corner were some very cute chickies from Planned Parenthood and NARAL, giving away not buttons, but stickers. Being a progressive male, with my equally progressive heterosexual life partner, we took the stickers, wished them luck and walked off. As we turn the corner, the street was divided by a three foot high metal barrier. On one side, our side, were folks just like us, on the other side, were the special people. They had credentials and were going inside to SEE the speeches. There were also some individual protesters. One Christian asshole, who did not know the difference between dolls with red paint and aborted tissue, was holding up a sign that had dolls with red paint saying that this was aborted tissue. I wanted to tell this misguide bastard to go fuck himself and keep his dirty pictures away from Lefty. Regrettably, Lefty does not like confrontation, so she just permitted me to tell this guy to go fuck himself as we walked by. Lefty is not fun sometimes. (I know, but Scholom, manly man, he protect me. -Lefty) After asshole Christan, I saw some big black women who had OBAMA buttons. I wanted one too, but I did not ask her for them. MORON ME!

Going around another corner, at the entrance of the special people walkway, we saw our only politician, Bob Graham. And not ten feet from him a Baldwin, Billy Baldwin. I am neither a Bob Graham fan nor a Billy Baldwin one, so I was not impressed.

We went back to where we gave our really shitty Comedy Central interview, and still saw no fucking buttons. The protest pen was right there, so I though maybe there would be something interesting in there. There was not. Just some kids handing out with apparently nothing better to do.

On the other side of the chain link fence making up the pen, were some big white tents. I put my face next to to the fence and looked closely at those tents. And then I saw it, my fucking buttons. Dammit! I would pay good money for some of those pieces of aluminum with a point to prick myself with.

But then, THEY came. First we heard the sounds of marching feet, then the sounds of hundreds of middle aged men shouting and chanting. It kept getting louder and louder. I knew nothing good would come out of this. They turned a corner and there they were. The Vietnam Veterans against Kerry. A bunch of 50+ angry males, who had nothing better to do that evening. It scared the shit out me. Lefty and I got out of that pen in a hurry. I much prefer the 18 year old unemployed anarchist anytime. At least I know why they are pissed.. they're teenagers.

After that we decided that this was a bust and went home buttonless. We couldn't even get our hands on a couple of Kerry/Edwards bumper sticker. The state of our democracy is surely sad if you can get within yards of a presidential candidate and their die hard supporters, and procure a simple red, white, and blue button with possible presidential names on it.

As Lefty and I were getting ready to head back to the People's Republic, she saw saw some teenagers a couple of blocks ahead with Kerry/Edwards bumper stickers. It was now or never, I had to run after them and get those paper/plastic sticky things. Three blocks later, and I got two!

Then off to hear the speeches of the night on the only channel that lets you listen without interruptions, C-Span.