GOP Convention 2008, Minneapolis, MN:
Day 3:
Bitter basement church ladies aren't buying a damn thing. To be fair they are not all bitter. But they clutch their collars a little tighter as they slink by.
The Sikhs across the way seem to fairing better. A bunch of turban-headed men doing brisk business selling software at a Republican National convention is not the strangest thing I've seen here.
Nevertheless, we ain't selling a damn thing. This event is a total and complete FLOP for all concerned.
We were promised 150,000 visitors. I'd be surprised if we see half that.
The actual numbers in the first 3 days are abysmal.
There's suppose to be 300 vendors. Is there half that here?
No one's buying anything.
All is lost.
But a glimmer of hope! The Log Cabin Republicans are here and plain looking curious college girls stealthily sneak up to steal a brochure when no one's looking. The Born-Agains mumble to us, "Frankly we don't need 'em." But it hasn't come yet to fisticuffs. Other visibly ignorant delegates saunter past, ask the question get the answer and say and "Oh... that's.... ..... .... nice." And then walk away flushed. This happens two dozen times.
What a terrible way to find out what a Log Cabin Republican is... for a Republican.
They've got a tough ho to row. And so do we. Like I said, we ain't selling a damn thing.
Showing posts with label failure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label failure. Show all posts
Monday, September 1, 2008
Sunday, August 31, 2008
GOP Convention 2008: Working the Convention
GOP Convention 2008, Minneapolis, MN:
Day 1:
There's a life-size cardboard cutout of John McCain across the aisle. No one wants their picture taken with him. I shit you not.
I'm at a convention-like commercial event attached to the Republican National Convention.
Next to McCain there's a life-sized Barack Obama cutout. Children run up to the Obama cutout, pose ramrod straight and smile even before their parent's can get out their cameras out. Soccer moms beam brighter than Obama's thousand-watt smile as they surreptiously sidle up to him. This is a Republican event. What the hell is going on?
Wait! McCain has his fans. Er fan. A few pose right between the two men. But so far it's four families for the ebullient Obama, 1 middle aged woman for McCain. She could be a Hillary supporter.
The cardbard cutout McCain looks sternly at the viewer. He might be going for gravitas; but instead he just looks like a bird shit on his head. He ain't happy with the situation.
It also doesn't help that McCain is diminutive and frumpy and Obama is as tall and dapper. Are these guys even runing for the same office? McCain looks like a alcoholic grandpa stuck on vacation with his excitable and photo-crazy wife: "Take the damn picture already, Rose."
Obama looks like he's about to ballroom dance.
It costs 15 bucks to get in the door. Children cost 10. So either these Obama fans are totally lost and flush with money, or some Republicans will be voting Democrat. Crazy, I know.
Day 2:
They have more Presidents today. Cardbard cutouts. Life sized. Reagan, the Hollywood cowboy leans against a rail since yesterday though. You can almost see the straw hanging out of his mouth. But no one seems to notice him. Its like he's not even there. He's far away from the other presidents.
A life-sized George H. W. Bush is now present. And a second McCain figure is here too. So here's the tally: 1 Reagan, 1 Bush, 1 Obama, and 2 McCains. Both McCains look like they're gonna punch someone. Rose better snap that picture quick.
Now Bush is getting pictures taken.
I'm beginning to feel sorry for McCain: When we got here this morning a small plush elephant was mounted mischieviously on his head. Whoever did it meant well, I'm sure. But it didn't soften his image, it just made him look he was angry that a damned elephant was put on his head.
Day 1:
There's a life-size cardboard cutout of John McCain across the aisle. No one wants their picture taken with him. I shit you not.
I'm at a convention-like commercial event attached to the Republican National Convention.
Next to McCain there's a life-sized Barack Obama cutout. Children run up to the Obama cutout, pose ramrod straight and smile even before their parent's can get out their cameras out. Soccer moms beam brighter than Obama's thousand-watt smile as they surreptiously sidle up to him. This is a Republican event. What the hell is going on?
Wait! McCain has his fans. Er fan. A few pose right between the two men. But so far it's four families for the ebullient Obama, 1 middle aged woman for McCain. She could be a Hillary supporter.
The cardbard cutout McCain looks sternly at the viewer. He might be going for gravitas; but instead he just looks like a bird shit on his head. He ain't happy with the situation.
It also doesn't help that McCain is diminutive and frumpy and Obama is as tall and dapper. Are these guys even runing for the same office? McCain looks like a alcoholic grandpa stuck on vacation with his excitable and photo-crazy wife: "Take the damn picture already, Rose."
Obama looks like he's about to ballroom dance.
It costs 15 bucks to get in the door. Children cost 10. So either these Obama fans are totally lost and flush with money, or some Republicans will be voting Democrat. Crazy, I know.
Day 2:
They have more Presidents today. Cardbard cutouts. Life sized. Reagan, the Hollywood cowboy leans against a rail since yesterday though. You can almost see the straw hanging out of his mouth. But no one seems to notice him. Its like he's not even there. He's far away from the other presidents.
A life-sized George H. W. Bush is now present. And a second McCain figure is here too. So here's the tally: 1 Reagan, 1 Bush, 1 Obama, and 2 McCains. Both McCains look like they're gonna punch someone. Rose better snap that picture quick.
Now Bush is getting pictures taken.
I'm beginning to feel sorry for McCain: When we got here this morning a small plush elephant was mounted mischieviously on his head. Whoever did it meant well, I'm sure. But it didn't soften his image, it just made him look he was angry that a damned elephant was put on his head.
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