I either hate national party conventions or I love them. I can’t decide. I either hate them because they remind me of our high school assemblies, they’re so cornball, they’re full of puns and plays on words, too much emphasis and pauses for clapping, where good politicians can get away with bad, overly dramatic speeches that read like a third grade essay on Why I Love America.
Or I love them for the same exact reasons, because they’re as American as the mullet; because they’re like the lemon shakeups at the Canfield Fair - you love them because they’re the shakeups at the Canfield Fair, not because they taste good or are worth what you pay for them.
I haven’t seen much of the Republicans, but so far it looks like an AmVets high school speech contest I judged in Cleveland once. More old people in wheelchairs and bomber jackets than you’ll ever see in one big room.
Some observations about the Democratic National Convention:
- I liked the orange pantsuit. I don’t care what the other people in my house said. Orange says “bold,” “confidence” and “this time I really do want you to support him.”
- I like Bill again. We had a falling out there for about nine months, but his face is now back to a normal skin color and he’s calmed down considerably. Other than posing for the picture wearing a trucker hat that says “MILTF Hunter,” he hasn’t done anything too embarrassing lately. He’s back to being my favorite speech-giver. I may bring my Bill Clinton sweatshirt out of the mothballs and start wearing it again, if it would ever get below 90 degrees here.
- Who was that crazy guy who spoke before Joe Biden? What a nut case. Where do they find these people?
- Ted Kennedy looks good, don’t you think?
- If the Democrats want to keep their standing as the smart party, they need to stop making speeches with a repeating phrase that the audience joins in on. Joe Biden’s “That’s not change, that’s more of the same” left convention attenders hopelessly confused and off synch. Some delegates were just yelling vowel sounds just to try to keep up with the rhythm. Some had to clap just to keep the beat. Others were crying. Did anyone even listen to what he was saying or was everyone, like me, waiting for the next chorus to see if they could get it together and pull it off? What’s not change? What’s more of the same? I don’t know.
- I wish I had counted the number of times the word America was uttered. When some people say it, it sounds overly zealous, and something that should have a Confederate flag in the background.
- Remember the 1992 convention, when Bill, Hillary, Al Gore and Tipper got down with their bad selves on stage to Fleetwood Mac’s “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow?” Sadly, that was the hippest any presidential candidate had been up to that point. That photo of Barack Obama with a cig in his mouth and a shirt with no collar comes close, but that didn’t actually happen at the convention, so that’s not who we officially nominated.
Let’s all watch the Republicans this week and see if they can out-hip the Dems. The McCain and Palin kids might be able to pull it off. But only if their parents let them break free of the Peter Pan collars, tucked-in-shirts and dress shoes. That's not change. That's more of the same! America!
Labels: 1992 convention, barack obama, bill clinton, democratic national convention, democrats, hillary, republicans