Yesterday the freshman effort of Impact Film Festival drew to a close, with a rip-roaring screening and panel discussion of "Boogie Man," Stefan Forbes' well-done look at the life and controversial times of late Republican strategist Lee Atwater (see: Willie Horton, jumper cables, and the pillorying of Michael Dukakis.) Stefan was there to screen his film before a good audience, with a Q&A afterwards with Roger Stone (natty bow-tied Republican consultant who knew Lee since the early 70s) and Joe Conason (liberal and eloquent journalist for Salon and the NY Observer). Questions were pointed and well educated from both sides – starting out with a comparison to the 1860s election, in which rumors flew that Abraham Lincoln's VP was a "mulatto." (News story broken by Ye Olde National Enquirer,)
And let's not forget our celebrity-studded, talk o' the town parties in both cities. Effecting real change on the most important issues of our time is all well and good, but I got to hang out with Charlize, Ben and Fran Drescher, baby! I mean, The Nanny was a real turning point in the vital debate on providing an adequate hairspray allowance for childcare workers.
So let's just take a blog-pause for a moment to give a round of applause to the women who really made it happen, Jody Arlington (Festival Director), Jamie Shor (Marketing Director), Kimball Stroud (Development Director) and Laura Sullivan (Festival Producer). Not to mention our amazing volunteer staff who spent the majority of their time actually getting everything done (as well as keeping me in Vanilla Lattes) – especially the kick-ass, all-around wunderkind Mia, the wonderfully centered and organized Minjae, the incredibly resourceful and persuasive Leslie, and the up-for-anything Rachel E. And John, and Melissa, and Jeremy, with whom I didn't work as closely, but who kept things running smoothly on their end as well.
We watched the Convention speeches from our hotel bar, and marveled at the curdling contempt the Republicans reserved for words like "community organizer" and "inspirational." Sarah Palin's speech seemed well received all around (although there was a low bar. Simply refraining from announcing that she also forgot to mention that she's had an illegitimate love child with Al Sharpton, or that she was actually a Puerto Rican man was, I'm sure, a relief to the Republicans.) I know it rallied the troops, it'll be interesting to see what it did for the agnostics.
Some of the Impact folks went to eat at the CNN Grill and see the speeches the day before. They marveled that they could park a block away from the Xcel Center, in a free lot, and, at 7 pm, there were still lots of spaces. In Denver you couldn't park in the same time zone as the Pepsi Center, much less walking distance from it. A bunch of people have asked me what the differences are between the two Conventions. And there are so many. Aside from the easy potshots about pleated khaki pants, a two-decade average age difference in conventioneers, and a virulent aversion to poor people, there really was an entirely different vibe. In people, in demographics, in celebrity crush, in security, in energy.
Denver was like an unholy cross between the Oscars and the Camp David accords, all historical import, idealism, high security and the nagging worry that you weren't on the list for the coolest events. St Paul is more like a mix of the American Masters Golf Tournament and the moderately successful opening weekend of a big action film. Sure it's hard to get in, and parking can be sticky, but as long as you have your ticket, it's ok to show up a half hour before it starts. You'll probably get a seat, and maybe you'll even get Chuck Norris' autograph.
No great ending photos from the day, but a lot of protesters with various color schemes and ideological platforms.
My favorite quote was from a big bearded hippy passing out special Convention copies of the Onion right next to the REPENT AND BE SAVED folks, who apparently felt that their message was most effectively delivered through a bullhorn at the "Partial Eardrum Damage" volume setting. "Excuse me," he said politely as they blared Jesus into his face from 6 inches away, "my mind is hard of hearing."
And here my friends, is where we part ways, at least in the blogoshpere. I'm on my way home to my family and real life, relieved to be watching McCain's speech tonight from the worn comfort of my own couch. From teargas to pig lickers, Ben Affleck to Pat Mancini, Joe Biden to Pitbull Palin, this has been, as I promised in my first post, both a bumpy AND inspiring ride. Let's do again, shall we? Just not for another 4 years....
