Monday, February 12, 2007
Obamarama
We went to the Obama rally at the UIC Pavilion yesterday, which had its ups and downs. On the downside, there was a lot of standing in line outside in the cold behind a crazy lady who kept trying to get free t-shirts involved. On the upside, I wrapped my scarf around my face for warmth, which made be feel like a ninja. The hour of standing in front of the stage in a huge mess of shoving, occasionally stinking people was definitely a negative, but the nonsensical lies people told to try to get to the front of the crowd (i.e. "I need to be up close because I'm a diabetic") were an unexpected positive. I also thought Jan Schakowsky was an amazing emcee; if Rosie O'Donnell ever decides to retire or, well, settle the hell down, there may be a replacement available.
Anyway, the speech itself was pretty good, even if it was preceded by about half an hour of accidentally self-deprecating tributes from other politicians, who wanted us to know that "Barack Obama is different from all those other politicians." He talked inspiringly if not exceedingly concretely about health care and energy and education, while reminding us that he was against the war before being against the war was the cool thing to do. He used a handheld mike without looking like an American Idol contestant or, worse yet, Donahue, and jettisoned the podium in favor of a more theater-in-the-round approach (I hear he's also doing Our Town later this Spring). And though I really feel this term is overused, and rarely accurately when it comes to politicians, he has a certain charisma that really draws you in. He's like a smart black Julia Roberts, minus all those years of I Love Trouble and Mary Reilly.
Of course, we ended up standing next to a few interesting characters who added to the amazingness. One gentleman was quite intently "recording" the whole thing with a tiny pocket recorder that would clearly not actually catch any sound except perhaps the rustling of his pocket. Another was loudly declaiming his own personal commentary on the speech to the defeated-looking girl next to him. And still another was humming Nelly Furtado's "Promiscuous" to himself the whole time. Okay, the last one might have been me, though in my defense it's a really catchy song.
We went to the Obama rally at the UIC Pavilion yesterday, which had its ups and downs. On the downside, there was a lot of standing in line outside in the cold behind a crazy lady who kept trying to get free t-shirts involved. On the upside, I wrapped my scarf around my face for warmth, which made be feel like a ninja. The hour of standing in front of the stage in a huge mess of shoving, occasionally stinking people was definitely a negative, but the nonsensical lies people told to try to get to the front of the crowd (i.e. "I need to be up close because I'm a diabetic") were an unexpected positive. I also thought Jan Schakowsky was an amazing emcee; if Rosie O'Donnell ever decides to retire or, well, settle the hell down, there may be a replacement available.
Anyway, the speech itself was pretty good, even if it was preceded by about half an hour of accidentally self-deprecating tributes from other politicians, who wanted us to know that "Barack Obama is different from all those other politicians." He talked inspiringly if not exceedingly concretely about health care and energy and education, while reminding us that he was against the war before being against the war was the cool thing to do. He used a handheld mike without looking like an American Idol contestant or, worse yet, Donahue, and jettisoned the podium in favor of a more theater-in-the-round approach (I hear he's also doing Our Town later this Spring). And though I really feel this term is overused, and rarely accurately when it comes to politicians, he has a certain charisma that really draws you in. He's like a smart black Julia Roberts, minus all those years of I Love Trouble and Mary Reilly.
Of course, we ended up standing next to a few interesting characters who added to the amazingness. One gentleman was quite intently "recording" the whole thing with a tiny pocket recorder that would clearly not actually catch any sound except perhaps the rustling of his pocket. Another was loudly declaiming his own personal commentary on the speech to the defeated-looking girl next to him. And still another was humming Nelly Furtado's "Promiscuous" to himself the whole time. Okay, the last one might have been me, though in my defense it's a really catchy song.
