First of all, many apologies to those who expected us to blog from the convention. Apologies and yet, hmmm: Fuck you.
OK, that's harsh. But you have to understand: We were drunk most of the time. That, and consider that the Gawker Media Empire vacation plan is sort of skimpy. Like, uhm, there isn't one. So the convention was sort of like a vacation. A vacation in a smelly, steamy brute modernism building in which McDonald's and Dunkin Donuts were the only dining options and where the local currency was not cash but red floor passes. On the plus side, there were celebrities present. Ben Affleck was everywhere but in my hotel room (and don't think I didn't ask). All in all, it was a little like Tijuana-meets-band camp plus the Golden Globes. But with fire marshals.
Summing up the convention in any narrative form would require remembering more of it than we actually do, but our sketchy recall can summon some highlights:
•Lamest credential: MSNBC. They had no presence in the Fleet Center, so all this credential really communicated was "I work for MSNBC. We're broadcasting from a tent."
•Second lamest credential: The "Honored Guest" pass, which got you onto the floor where the hospitality suites were, but not into the actual suites. Damn you, DNC credentialer, damn you to hell!
•Most obscure celebrity sighting (real celebrity division):Jerry Stiller. (Still not on top of why he was there.)
•Most obscure celebrity sighting (famous for DC division): The entire press building, the bar at the Four Seasons.
•Grossest sight: The tables outside the security check, where people left half-eaten sandwiches and half-finished drinks and all of the ever-changing menu of what wasn't allowed inside. Close second: Larry King.
•Best fashion statement: Sneakers with suits. Spotted on Brit Hume (running shoes) and Joe Scarborough (Converse). Did they know something we didn't?
•Most hilarious personal experience: Briefly becoming a part of Rob Reiner's entourage.
•Best status check: "So, Creative Coalition? See you there?"
•Best accommodations: BU dorms, home to DNC staff and the Daily Show, thus the center of real power.
•Most overrated party: All of them. Long lines for free liquor, celebrities cordoned off into VIP rooms, hot, sweaty, bitchy people with clipboards at the entrance. Except for the parties that I was actually invited to. Those were great.
•Best text message we received (8AM, Friday morning): "Why am I wearing your belt?"
