Still jet-lagged and overwhelmed with the magnitude of pomp
and circumstance of the RNC extravaganza, occurring in a city I have only
travelled to once – sometime in my distant past. I have endured the noise and
mayhem of hoards of republicans crossing paths and mingling with each other. But I’m presently sitting high at the top of the Q, in the nosebleed seating section
trying to take it all in. But lets not
get ahead of ourselves.
The RNC assigned the Hawaii contingency housing about 19
miles out of the city in a town I had never heard of called Mentor. Appropriate for such a town of strip malls
and familiar, fattening, and flatulogenic fast food restaurants stands the
Holiday Inn that houses the Minnesota and Hawaii delegations. Not difficult to
tell the difference between the delegations with a lot of tall slender and
elegant looking Minnesotans.
And just to set the record straight, everyone from the Hawaii delegation was very nice, gracious, friendly and dedicated to the task at hand. No more sign of discord, disagreement or any inappropriate outbursts. I’m very lucky to be here and feel aloha, kindness and friendship from all of the members of the Hawaii delegation.
The first night was spent getting our credentials passed
out, information sharing and attending an opening reception at the Rock and
Roll Hall of Fame. What an event!!! There were thousands of folks, dozens of food
stations, and bars serving a decent assortment of wine and beer, which I
sampled on several occasions. The food
was excellent, but waiting on countless lines in the hot sun was no fun….the
sun sets late in July in Cleveland.
Music played by the Doobie brothers - whoever they are - was broadcasted
over several screens at several strategic locations around the vast landscape
of the museum campus. Folks dancing
freestyle, lots of beer drinking and networking, all having fun. We traversed
the museum and what a great museum it was.
Rock and roll was a part of my life even before I could dance. It still tickles my core hearing the songs of
the 50’s and 60’s with the coordinated rhythmic movement and sounds, all fluid
and intoxicating and familiar. Of
course, not all of them fit this stereotype like the flaming convulsive
performances of Jerry Lee Louis or Elvis. But it was fun reliving the music of
the past with all of the videos and paraphernalia on display at the museum.
Back to the reception, I was tempted to dance, but in the
end, the occasion did not present itself.
For one think, Ivanca did not show up…haha. For another, the music was only borderline
danceable. I could visualize being
miserable trying to lead some unsuspecting lady on the dance floor into moves
she had never done before with an audience looking on apathetically. But there was no remorse, and without
noticing - the night moved by swiftly
and by the time it felt right to go, it was really time to go because the
evening had ended. Forty minutes on the
bus and we were home. Some young man
from Minnesota sat next to me filling the last few seats on the bus. His father was a mortician in a small town
two hours south of the Twin Cities. I of
course, uninvited, I took the opportunity to pontificate endlessly about life,
and advise him on how he should approach college and graduate studies. And so the kid got paid back in spades for
asking to sit next to me. Poor kid.
And so ended night #1 with most everything going well and I
got a good six hours sleep. More tomorrow………..
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