DNC Spy Log Part Three: Celebrities Abound; Life on the Floor

Today Dan and I spent the majority of the day on the floor, hunting celebrities. Our feed is mainly for Europe, so we have to be mindful that no Limeys in London know who Governor Douchebag is, so we shouldn't waste tape.

The floor of the convention is an interesting place. CNN has their spot in the lefthand corner, everybody else is up top in the media suites. Media is all over the place, mostly snappers, but a good deal of hand-held cameras as well. If anybody of importance or mass popularity is speaking, like Bill Clinton, Howard Dean, or Teddy Kennedy, they pack the aisles so tight that the delegates on the aisles can't see. So we're made to crouch or kneel in the narrow aisles.

If a celebrity happens to be on the floor, they're swamped by cameras and microphones, and can barely move. There are constant Fleet security guards, secret service, bodyguards and fire department offcials telling us to move or at least get down. Most press ignore them until they get the shot they need. Technically they can't push you out of the way, so they just get right up in your face and yell until you move.

Dan and I started the day on the floor, but since the convention doesn't convene until 4pm, the only people on the floor are media, politicians and others who work for the party. We talked with Tom Curly, the head of the AP for about 20 minutes. He's a fascinating guy, and was telling us stories about how Bill Clinton met him once, and three years later remembered his name. Peter Jennings made his debut appearance as well and had a brief interview with George Stephanopolous.

Our assignment was to just wait for somebody that people in Europe knew and liked. The only person that really met that standard was Howard Dean. An anchor friend of Dan's from CBS who knew Howard Dean fired off several questions, and we got some good stuff. But of course the day can't always go that well. Next we were sent off for two bullshit stories.

First, flag down Ben Affleck at a fundraiser event at Jillian's. We didn't get there in time to catch him going in, nor going out. But we did go shopping. Me and Dan were accompanied by Kelly, a woman who works for the AP and Tom Daschle's daughter (Senate Minority Leader). Dan was insistent on finding a leather band, so I took them to Newbury Comics where Dan was free to revel in his mid-life crisis.

Next up was "find crazy hats" story part two. The really stupid part about it was that while we were in the cab on the way back to the Fleet center we saw a protest gathering on the Common, and a large line of police quietly putting on riot gear. Dan called it in, only to be informed that delegates from Bumblefuck Idaho with idiotic hats are far more news-worthy than potential riot. Our fate was sealed to the Fleet parking lot. Delegates were greeted with the "God Hates Fags" fringe group and a couple of exhausted and slightly irritated members of the press.

Back on the floor around 6, we ran into Rob Reiner and got some good sound bites. We meandered all around the floor, getting cutaway shots and generally getting in people's way. It's almost comical, really. Dan just sticks that thing wherever he wants, blocking aisleways and smacking people in the face with the battery.

Things got interesting around 7:30. Dan and I were headed off the floor to change tapes and take a breather when we were pushed back by Fleet workers. A circle of about 10 people holding hands quickly moves in our direction. Inside their impenetrable circle of love was none other than Bono. Looking rather haggard and silly in his trademark ugly sunglasses, he was rather friendly with media. The poor bastards holding the line were no match for the 20 or so cameras and 50 odd snappers that swarmed the circle like gay men to a hair gel sale. I could barely move, being completely surrounded by other press, but managed to stick the microphone in Bono's face, although he really wasn't saying much besides "my ear wig is cold." Fascinating stuff.

The next couple hours were exhausting. We moved all over the floor, talked to a couple dozen people, and had a couple battles with security. Then Michael Moore shows up. I shit you not, it was like Jesus had entered the arena. He was actually very amicable, and I am honored to say I made eye contact with the liberal juggernaut. He had his own people standing at his seat on the aisle in the Michigan delegation, but never failed to speak to anyone who wanted to talk or shake hands or take a picture.

Dan and I are getting to know each other fairly well, working 12 hour days together. He constantly expresses dissatisfaction and irritation towards his job. It's frustrating and disheartening to hear. Right now I feel like the field that I'm trying to get into, be it media or film, would never make me feel that way. Of course there is no guarantee I won't end up feeling the way Dan does, and its a frightening thought. Sometimes I feel like we're all doomed to hate our jobs.

On a lighter note, Jerry Springer and Everclear's Art Alexaxis won't leave us alone. Sunday we saw them both at the Rock the Vote party, Monday we saw them again on the floor, twice for Springer. Today we saw Art on Newbury Street and watching TV in the Fleet hallway, and Springer three more times. It's like trying to shake a bad cold. It's becoming a bit ridiculous.

The catering is good, but I barely had time to eat. From the time I arrived at 11am to the time I left at 11pm, I had a hamburger and a few bites of ravioli. While running back the tapes of Bono, Reiner, Moore and Dean I managed to shove a dinner roll in my mouth before running back to the floor. It sucks. Not only that, but we hardly sat down. It's a tiring and really rough on the body. Being on your feet for 10 hours is not natural, and by the end of night I was sore all over.

Day Two, though tiring, was great. I really wouldn't want to be anywhere but the floor. Its where all the excitement is. The atmosphere on the floor is fantastic. The delegates excitedly chatter amongst themselves and other states, and love talking to the press. They give up their seats for us if they're going to the bathroom or moving, and the press laugh and exchange stories while crouched next to each other on the floor. There is a genuine feeling of hope and excitement for the election, and I can only hope it lasts through November.

So ends Day 2. Until next time, my vigorous fan(s).