The Rake Magazine

Tag: 2008 primaries

  • Signed, Sealed, and Delivered

    We deserve Barack Obama.

    That is tonight’s message.

    And Obama has arrived!

    The crowd roars — everyone on their feet, so many of them smiling, laughing, a few even silently crying. Is this the message of change?

    He can barely be heard above the din. For three whole minutes the crowd roars, only getting louder before they finally leave their voices in Obama’s care.

    "Thank you…"

    And the crowd roars again.

    He dedicates the evening to his grandmother.

    And the crowd roars again. MN for Change. Women 4 Change. Students for Obama. Aarp for Obama. Vets for Obama. Even Christians for Obama. They’re all here.

    "Our primaries season has finally come to an end," he declares.

    And, of course, the crowd roars again. We all know what this means.

    "I will be the Democratic nominee for president of the United States."

    There it is people. Yes you can.

    And I think I’m deaf now.

    Obama continues. He sings Hillary’s praises, claiming to be a better person because of her, from running against her.

    He addresses those that say the Democratic party is weaker now because of their campaign. He brings up the millions of Americans who have cast their first votes. Judging from the crowd in here, he is right about this. Sure, there are folks of all ages — but so many young ones. Folks of all races, ethnicities, cultures, even countries. Folks of all kinds. And I wonder how many of these — even I — might vote this year were it not for him. For this campaign. And I wonder how many other — who might not even vote for him — might vote because of him. And I can’t help but think that this is good. That this is something.

    Something is happening here. Oh, I hope — whatever it may be. Something is happening here.

    More applause.

    "We may call ourselves Democrats and Republicans, but we are Americans first."

    The crowd roards again, and a man, far back in a third-row seat, stares dumbfounded at the screen as we wipes his eyes.

    People believe this guy. They believe in him. And they believe that he believes in them.

    "America, this is our moment. This is our time to turn the page on the policies of the past."

    Do they really believe this is going to happen? That we will care for our sick? That we will provide jobs for all? That we will stop destroying our planet? They sure seem to. And I must say, it’s a beautiful, beauitful dream.

    Before he waves good-bye, he hugs his wife. And she says, "I love you." I’m pretty sure she’s not the only one.

  • Inside the Press Area

    7:28
    Inside the press area

    Obamamania takes no prisoners. The bloggers, who never entertained the pretense of objectivity, are the first to fall. One writer for local blog MNpublius is pacing the press area looking for a way out.

    "We are quarantined here!" he tells me.

    "It is morning in America. I wanna be cheering," he bellows to another writer, and then he turns and heads for the nearest gate. "I’m gonna go see if I can go to the risers…with the people. I don’t wanna miss this!"

  • Not with a Bang, But a Whimper

    This is the way the Democratic Primary season ends, not with a bang but a whimper.

    The presidential campaign that started with a listening tour designed to state the obvious — that people wanted Hillary Clinton to run — will end the same way, with people telling her it’s time to hang it up.

    Earlier in the day, McCain’s speech got the attention of the crowd. Two hours later, as Hillary addresses supporters in New York, there is not even a mention of the event inside this venue.

    Hillary Clinton is speaking in New York. She looks more relaxed than she has looked throughout her entire campaign, but gives the same speech she has been giving all along. Nothing new. Even now. Nothing new.

    "This is a long race, and I will not be making any decisions tonight."

    There will be no concession this evening, my friend.

    She asks the viewers to visit her website, as if somehow raising her traffic numbers will win her the race.

    She thanks. And she thanks. And she thanks her family, of course. She thanks Bill, of course.

    And she tells us of a woman in South Dakota, a woman who wants health care, and woman who — like everyone in this country — should have health care. And she is right. But we all know this.

    "There is nothing we all can’t do, if we just start acting like Americans again."

    She’s right. We’re not acting like Americans. Thank goodness.

    And yet… aren’t we?

    Here in the Xcel Center, no one is hearing this speech. Here we are all listening to Stevie Wonder and watching ourselves cheer on the overhead screen. Here we are clueless, except for those with laptops and portable devices.

    Here — down in the press area — we are worshiping our gods. Thomas Friedman is passing again, my friends. And Hill is done.

     

  • Turn It Down

    Press access to the general public has now been cut off. The only way out of the press area is through the tunnel.

    According to Tim Russert, Obama’s people are negotiating Hillary’s withdrawal. Hillary insists she should be offered the VP position, so she can turn it down and withdraw with dignity. Obama’s people are game, as long as she puts it in writing that she will not accept.

    At this point, it’s hard to say what speech to expect. How long before the Democratic nominee can gloat a little?

    Tom Friedman just walked in surrounded by cameras. Biggest star treatment yet. Thomas Jefferson arriving in Paris.

    8:25 p.m.

    The Xcel Center is filled to capacity, the crowd high on caffeinated drinks, fried foods and nachos are getting restless. We’re told the Xcel administration cut the crowd off at 20,000, but the center continues to fill with people, even behind the press risers, where the view, if any, is very limited.

    Outside the stragglers and protesters are dispersing. Inside the music is blaring.

    Hillary Clinton is expected to speak to her followers in New York at any moment.

    In 39 minutes the final polls close, and this marathon of a primary will end.

    Tonight, the buck stops here.

     

  • MSNBC — Reporting from the Twin Cities

    The screams continue as the overhead screens show MSNBC reporting from right here, the Xcel Center. Ah… now I understand why news reports always show people cheering in the background. They’re just cheering themselves on. How quaint. Somehow, as a viewer, you always assume the cheers are for the politician. (I should have known better.)

    It’s 7:12 PM, and the entire front area of the arena — the only part from whence you can see the stage — is now full. My bad. I see about twenty seats in the upper far corner, all the way in back.

    O-BAMA! O-BAMA! The crowd chants.

    Really we’re just sitting here watching the news, only with more applause — and more traffic on the way here.

    7:44 — Watching McCain’s speech in Lousianna.

    7:56 — "Yes We Can" video playing overhead.

  • Eye of the Storm

    After the press is settled in, the doors open to the general public. It’s about 10 past six. The crowds file in, steadily, slowly, filling the arena. Is this an arena? I think it is. And right now, it feels like we’re the show — broken gladiators. I don’t see anyone turn to the crowd. Photographers line up on the riser before the stage. The rest of us sit at tables behind them, on computers, on phones, jabbering away with fellow reporters, documenters of the times.

    $175 for an internet connection. $175! There are two of us. One of us will Twitter from the phone. Awful. Just awful. $175! (So much for Minneapolis public wi-fi when you’re in St. Paul.) Sodas are $4. They banned me from the $2 soda machine, which I though was bad enough.

    About three sections of the Xcel Center are completely full. That and half the center area — with press folk, of course.

    The crowds will continue to file in. We will continue to wait. It’ll be a while before the Man arrives. But now, he appears on the overhead screens. The crowd roars.

  • When I say "O", You Say "Bama!"

    7:00 p.m.

    Out on the sidewalk, the lines of people snake around the block. A pack of Obama playing cards sells for $10.

    The Obama volunteers are warming up the crowd as they make their way into the venue.

    "When I say O," chants one Obama volunteer. "You say…"

    "BAMA!" the crowd yells back.

  • Meet the Press

    Finding the press area was hard enough. All the way on the other side. No, go back the way you came. Straight down there and to the left. Down by the loading area. Across the street. Down. Down. Really? We have to cross the street — away from the Xcel Center — to get in. You’re kidding me.

    No. It’s true.

    I’ve never been here before, you see. And I’m already overwhelmed. But… this is the press. This is underwhelming — albeit the Harley strapped on to the back of a truck station. That’s something.

    The press area — an underground tunnel across the avenue and into the Xcel Center — is packed with… well — press. Your typical press peeps, really. Lots of ties. Ties with jeans. Slacks. Cameras. Suitcase even. Fairly loaded all around. I’m traveling light today.

    The workers keep telling everyone to be patient. They’re letting in live TV, 5-o’clock news in first. Of course. Makes sense to me. So why are people complaining?

    At least an hour and half until the doors open to the public (the beautiful public). Two more hours, more like three, until Obama steps up to the plate.

    Why are people complaining.

    We talk to a freelance photographer who is also waiting to get in. She never made it outside. Here’s the press, corralled into an underground tunnel, as the stories form outside. What are we doing here.

    Finally, they take us one more stage in the journey that awaits us — about 50 feet forward, to another line. Really? Why do we have to stand in lines? We can’t work here. Can’t we sit off to the sides? Can’t we mingle? Ask questions? Explore? We stand in line.

    But first the people roar as they run — yes, run! — fifty feet to the line. Yay! Another line. You’ve got to be kidding.

    One line here. Another there. There are about four separate lines, all at cross-purposes. The volunteers apologies. They blame it on the dogs. The dogs are busy sniffing for explosives now. I wonderful what god-awful place I may have placed my bag recently.

    Members of the press grow inpatient. Volunteers apologize, keep it in control. Members of the press grow indignant. One man raises his voice, upset because they’ve held him back due to his heavy loads. The dogs need to sniff them for explosives — now more than ever.

    Why are the media folks just standing there? Why is not even a single one of the 30-or-so photographers snapping photos? Why? Why?!

    Meet the press.

    …off to the metal detector.