convention blogging advice

I still don't understand the formal media's nervousness about bloggers attending a political convention.  Given the role of blogs and the internet in this year's Democratic primary season, it seems that it would be natural to allow folks to come in and blog about the convention.

America's political conventions died some time ago, victims of television and political reform.  Americans like to govern themselves through such entities as conventions.  Go to any church governing conference and you will see similar principles at work (a cultural mark that our non-American brothers and sisters don't fully grasp).  But while a diocese may be comfortable with electing a bishop on the third ballot, we don't do that any more at the national level to elect political candidates.

I've attended one Democratic Convention -- my boss chaired it in 1992, and I worked for a week in Chicago just prior to the 1996 convention (different boss, different job).  I grew up watching conventions the way some people watched the World Series or the Olympics.  But I was a child hack, reading Theodore White's breathless portraits of American politics when other kids were playing baseball.

Now a recovering hack, I ignored the 2000 conventions -- and by that, meaning I only watched a couple of hours as opposed to flipping between news channels.  But I will probably watch the speeches this year.

Here's my advice for Boston DNC bloggers:

1. Realize that it is a scripted television show.  In 1992, I watched each night in one of the upper tier balconies at Madison Square Garden.  One night, Dr. Ruth was seated next to me interviewing someone.  The next night the New York comic Jackie somebody - I forgot his name -- was interviewing him.  Or the MTV newswoman was interviewing him).  Every dumb, thoughtless and inconsequential idea, action or event will be covered by somebody. Leave this thoughtless coverage to the professionals. 
2. Make friends.  Political activists, hacks and community leaders will be there from all over the country.  Get to meet a few of them.  Go have a beer with them.  Hear what's it is like at their hotel -- each delegation is assigned to a hotel and all think they have unique horror stories.  That will get them to talk.  Staff of politicians are all over the place.  Get to know them.  Outside of DC-based staff, they're probably thrilled to be there, and wouldn't mind giving you their angle on what is happening (or not happening), on what it is like to be there, on what their story is.
3. Understand that a political convention is not one big event, but a collection of events.  There are people who will attend the convention who will not have to wait in long lines, who will stay in the best hotels, and who will attend private parties and receptions.  They will do this because they give big bucks to the party, to the candidate, or to the officeholder from their state or district that has some clout at the convention.  That's how it works.  It's like walking among parallel experiences -- yes, we're all in the same city, but no, we're not all having the same experiences.
4. This creates a certain desperation on some people's part to crash, score tickets, get into whatever exclusive event they think they are missing.  It is a nasty thing to behold, and I would avoid getting caught up in that.  Most of the exclusive parties are not that exclusive (you won't hear or probably read about the really exclusive ones).  The must-go to party is an invention. People will be crushed into a space, the noise will be intolerable, and you may only get a drink or a little something to eat. 
5. Take breathers.  In 1992, the week before the convention, I got to attend a Broadway production of Falsettos.  I sat next to the comedian Reno (who had a little dog stowed away in a bag)   on row 4 and got to meet briefly Bill Finn, the composer, after the show).  During the convention I snuck away for an hour or so to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden.  The last night, I decided I didn't need to beg or block someone else from hearing the acceptance speech and I got half price tickets to see an incredible production of Loesser's Most Happy Fella.  I sat on row 11.  My boss was a guest on David Letterman's show and I got to sit in the audience.  The political work I don't remember.  I don't remember many of the speeches.  I remember those fun things quite well.
6. You'll see famous media and political people.  Ted Koppel is quite short.  I stood behind him on an escalator.  Dr. Ruth is short.  Jackie (whose name I cannot remember) is short.  Must be a blog entry there.
7. Avoid 18 year old overcaffinated political staff.  These 18-20 somethings run DC and most political operations.  No, not from the top.  But from next to the top on down.  Political life is gypsy work, long hours, requiring ambitious smart people.  Draws in these kids like moths to light.  When they have a title, and a radio, they become dangerous.  They are the senator, or the candidate, or the chairman, or whatever magic word represents power at that moment.  And they are tough.   Many of them are good people, but some of them are not.  They are power crazy.  They are often the enforcers of the parallel conventions.  Don't mess with them.  Not worth your time.
8. Yes, people from Kansas and all the other states wear goofy hats, pins and signs.  Put it in the context of America.  Think sporting events.  Gay pride marches.  Rallies and walks.  We like to decorate.  No, it won't be tasteful.  It will be tacky.  And funny.  And some of the people wearing them will be excessive in their political views.  Others won't.  Try to picture them as people having a good time.  Goofy, but real.
9. Pray for your country, if you are so inclined.  We need it.  The world needs it. 
10. Try not to become too jaded.  Talk to the people who work in the hotels. Who clean the rooms.  The policemen on the street.  Yes, it's staged, yet it's weird.  But it is also a celebration of American democracy.