Act One--They Meet
Honestly, when I first heard about YearlyKos I didn't expect a whole lot out of it. I figured it'd be maybe 50 or 60 of us playing poker and knocking back brews (strictly a side note...never bluff a Russian in a game of poker). Instead it was the political Woodstock (minus all the sex and drugs) of the modern liberal era.
I wanted to get some observations out there while they were fresh on my mind. I keep trying to do this with the
book tour, but between media stuff, my day job, my travel schedule, and spending downtime with my lovely and gracious wife, I keep forgetting. So here we go, starting with day one.
I arrived on Thursday night after registration closed (around 6:00 p.m. local time) and gave Jeffrey Feldman a call. He was nice enough to come to my book signing in NYC and we exchanged info for Vegas. I met him (along with John Javna and a few other people who shall remain nameless for privacy reasons) at the Riviera food court where we ate cheap Mexican food. For future reference, never eat cheap Mexican food at the Riviera food court. In fact, forget that last qualifier. Never eat chap Mexican food. Period.
After finishing our `food' we were off to the opening night keynote hosted by Laughing Liberally's Baratunde (a "funny, funny murf" as we would say in Memphis). Markos gave a fantastic speech, and Tom Tomorrow premiered a couple of strips. Hy-freaking-larious. Will Keenan wrapped things up with the "Mission Accomplished Man" video, and thus "Vote for fear!" became the hot phrase of the conference. It later became sort of like the D-Day sign-countersign "Thunder-Flash" thing. Folks would ask it as a question "Vote for fear?" and see if they got an enthusiastic "Vote for fear!" response, or the "oh God, what is this crazy person saying" look. Both looks were rewarding.
After the keynote we went to the Hard Rock Casino for Wesley Clark's shindig. I was happy to go because I owed the General an apology. When I was a dittohead I once verbally abused a Wes Clark supporter. I've since been able to apologize directly to that supporter (which was very cool. Needless to say she was more happy that I'd seen the light than angry that I was such a dick. In fact, her exact words were "sure you were a dick! You were a dittohead!" Fair enough. Where was I? Oh yeah...), but I still felt like I owed one to Clark.
So we all head down to the taxi stand. For future reference, taxis don't stop on Las Vegas Boulevard. It's too dangerous, against local ordinances, and so you have to go to a hotel taxi stand. Lots of folks were waving hopelessly at cabs on the street. I hope they figured it out eventually...otherwise they might still be there. Anyway, we go to the taxi stand and there's a line a mile long. Cabs don't generally go by the Riv because it's kind of isolated, and it's not as big as it once was. So we're waiting for a cab, and it looks like it's gonna be HOURS before we get one. At around this point a guy from the Riv asks if we want to take a limo over. It'd cost more ($40 for the 8 of us), but we'd get there, you know, TODAY while the party was still raging.
So we're riding over in the limo, and folks are talking politics. What should we do about Iraq (Duh! I already answered this one...give it to China! Hello?), how can we get the economy back on track, why are we mandating flex-fuel engines, that kind of thing. I couldn't resist the opportunity to say, "Here we go...all you libs fixing the world from the backs of your limousines. You guys are SO out of touch!" It got a laugh.
We got to the Hard Rock and headed over to the party (after first realizing how much nicer the Hard Rock is compared to the Riv...which, sadly, is true of most hotels in Las Vegas). Problem was I didn't have a credential since I got there after registration closed, so there was some concern as to how I would get in. So I just walked up and pretended like I had one, but that you couldn't see it. I had a whole "Emperor's New Clothes" idea I was going to use about why my credential was invisible, but I didn't need it. The bouncer dude just slapped a wristband on me and we were off to the "Private Event."
Clark held the event on the balcony level of the Hard Rock's auditorium. It was cramped, crowded, oddly lit, and didn't have anywhere near enough seating. When Clark addressed the crowd, he did so without a microphone despite the fact that there was a PA system piping in music. He didn't have a podium either. He just stood on top of one of the bar tables. While this ordinarily might have had a populist feel, it was so dark up there that the General looked more like a dark, shadowy figure. The acoustics were surprisingly bad, and as a result I don't think most people understood a word he was saying. I got as close as I could get given the crowd, and I still couldn't make it out, so I went back to my group and the conversation I was having. This resulted in lots of folks `shushing' us, which I understood, but it kind of seemed like maybe he could have gotten a mic and avoided the whole problem. I'm too fidgety to sit silently and listen to something I can't hear.
I rode back in a cab with some folks I'd met at Clark's event (you're free to identify yourselves in the comments section). They asked why I was there, and I explained how I was the `Former Dittohead' guy. Turns out they'd gone to the party with Mike Stark, and they were looking for me. How's that for a coincidence? One of them calls up Mike and hands me the phone. We talk. I've long been and admirer of Mike, and told him so. Mike wanted me to be there for his panel the next morning to discuss what works and what doesn't when talking to Rush's audience. I told him I'd be there and got back to the hotel at about 1:30 a.m. Mike's panel was at 8:00 a.m. This would be a recurring theme for YearlyKos. There will be stuff you want to do very late at night, and stuff you'd like to attend very early in the morning. Expect to sleep between 3:45 p.m.-7:00 p.m. and you should be fine.
I got back to the Riv. Walking down the hallway I noticed that part of the ceiling had fallen--you know, that little knubby, spackley stuff? Aside from being unfortunate I don't give it much thought. Remember this stuff. It'll come up again later. I go around the corner and enter my hotel room for the first time. One curious thing that I notice almost immediately--there's no bed. This was a first. What exactly was the purpose of a hotel room with no bed? I was about to call the front desk when I noticed a handle on the wall. Pulling it revealed something I wasn't expecting. For some inexplicable reason my bed folded up into the wall (my mother-in-law would later explain that this is called a `Murphy Bed.' I don't know who Murphy was, but my guess is he slept like shit. Probably that same dude who came up with Murphy's Law. If I had to sleep on one of those for a prolonged period of time, I'd probably be about that pessimistic, too).
Finally, mercifully, I fell asleep.
God, three pages and I only managed to cover the shortest of the 3 days I spent in Vegas. Looks like this diary's gonna have to be a series.