When I won the auction for backstage access to Netroots Nation 2010, it never entered my mind that I’d be playing with Speaker Nancy Pelosi’s granddaughter. But there I was, hanging out waiting for a photo op with the Speaker, with Isabella tearing up and down the hall. Pointing at the stage that her grandmother had just spoken from, she made a beeline towards the stage door. Having been in and out of that door many times, all I could think about was the floor level open access hatch that led under the raised floor and the Speaker’s protective detail tearing the stage apart to retrieve Isabella. But I had too little faith in the instincts that must run in the family. Isabella headed up the stairs to the stage where someone else corralled her before she could get hurt on the decidedly un-childproofed stage.
Seeing Netroots Nation from backstage was both a privilege and a blast. I saw the hard work that goes on to bring speakers to the stage, had the chance to mingle with some of the speakers. What I saw was the tip of the tip of the iceberg. I didn’t see the front-of-stage work, or the work that goes into managing the panels, the exhibit hall, or the social events. What follows is some of what I witnessed backstage to give you a taste of the scene behind the scene.
Thursday
I meet up with Nathaniel Charny, in real life an employment lawyer, but at Netroots, he’s the backstage guy, the person in charge of getting people to and from the stage, making sure they’re miked for sound and comfortable in the Green Room. He’s a constant presence backstage, joined at times by Mary Rickles, Netroots Nation’s Communication Director, who moves effortlessly from typing on her phone to schmoozing the folks backstage, and Nolan Treadway, Logistics Director. Nolan seems to be everywhere at once, handling problems in the room and escorting VIPs to their transportation. If you think you’re exhausted by a few days of Netroots Nation, they look like the walking dead by the end of Day 3. He takes me backstage to familiarize me with layout.
Being backstage for the opening program is mostly, very low key. Nevada State Senator Steven Horsford arrives alone, without handlers. When asked by Elon James White how he wishes to be introduced, he says "State Senator," omitting that he’s the Majority Leader of the State Senate, has a list of awards and honors that make it clear he’s a rising star, and that he’s become a special target of the right. Clearly a nice, unassuming guy, he asks me: "Do bloggers consider themselves journalists?" Fumbling for an answer, I tell him that that’s like asking if writers consider themselves journalists. Some do, some don’t. When he ever so slightly stumbles in the part of his speech where he talks about blogging and journalism, I realize he was using me for research. Ed Schulz moves around like a force of nature, oblivious to anything and anyone around him. Lizz Winstead arrives straight from the airport, ridiculously frazzled from air travel hell, but somehow manages to regroup. Markos comes back and is incredibly gracious. By the time I’m introduced to Governor Brian Schweitzer, I’ve figured out how to manage any awkwardness from being the guy who bought access to backstage. I won the auction for backstage pass, he’s told, and I say, "Yes, that’s right, I bought access". Was it cheaper than Washington where all it seems to take is women and cigars, he asks? Well, I say, I guess that would depend on the quality of the woman and the cigars.
Friday
Van Jones is in his dressing room, working on his speech, but there’s no sign of Ari Melber. A lot of back and forth on the walky talkies takes place, trying to determine whether anyone’s seen him or talked to him. He’s called, but it goes straight to voicemail. Just as it’s decided to skip Melber’s introduction of Van Jones ("Does Van Jones really need to be introduced to this audience?"), it’s Jones’s staffer who notices that Melber has tweeted that he’s on his way over. Van Jones goes on, introduced only by "the voice of God", that unidentified booming voice coming from seemingly nowhere and everywhere. I shake Jones’ hand after his session and get a picture with him, telling him that it was a privilege to meet him.
Saturday
This is the big one. Pelosi, Reid, Franken, and in the middle of all that, the lunch time economics panel with Elizabeth Warren. I arrive early for Pelosi and get told apologetically by Netroots staff the Capitol Police don’t want me backstage. They’re just being dicks, someone says. I tell them to stop apologizing; they’re not in control. Peolosi is, after all, 3rd in the line of presidential succession and has gotten death threats. They get assurances that I’ll have a photo op. There’s concern expressed about my knapsack, so I put it into the "Boardroom," what acts as Netroots’ command center. A plainclothes officer asks to see my Netroots badge. Almost as an afterthought, he asks to see picture ID. This is actually reassuring; my Netroots "All Access" badge was very creatively constructed and is indistinguishable from a hasty forgery. After the session I hang around the backstage door, as various progressive media and bloggers make the trek in for some time with Pelosi. I find myself standing with Marcy Wheeler and wonder for a moment whether I should get a photo op with her, too. After Marcy’s let in, things seem to relax and I find myself in the backstage corridors with the Speaker’s protective detail and staffers. One of them looks at what I’m carrying and asks, "Is that an iPad?" I have a moment to wonder whether they think this is some kinbd of rectangular Oddjob death frisbee that I’ll be trying to hurl at the Speaker, but I open it up and tell her it is. She has a MacBook at home, she says, and has been trying to decide whether to get an iPad. It truly is Steve Jobs’ world.
The detail drifts in and out of whispered conversations about travel plans, while we compare notes about Las Vegas ("I’ve been in serious suites before, but this one had TWO bathrooms. TWO bathrooms. Who needs two bathrooms?"), I tell someone the story of how I married my wife in Las Vegas, that the Las Vegas Marriage Bureau is like a big city DMV, and what it was like to walk the gauntlet of marriage chapels and Elvis impersonators selling weddings after you’ve gotten your marriage license. Isabella’s antics are the one thing keeping us all from sheer boredom. At last, the media parade is done and I get my 15 seconds. "I’ve been so eager to meet you, Saul" says Speaker Pelosi. I hope that was the only lie she told that day.
I decide that, of the lunchtime economics talks, the only speaker I’m interested in for celebrity purposes is Elizabeth Warren. It’s another handshake with a "privilege to meet you" from me. A picture is taken, and then Warren stops us. Take another, just in case, she says. Clearly, a level of care and caution that recommends her well to be the first head of the Consumer Finance Protection Bureau. I decide to comment on the fact that she’s used actual notecards to give a talk about a Bureau that she says should be wired from the start. If she uses anything else, she says, she writes the whole speech, and she doesn’t want to do that. I stop myself only after I blurt out something dorky about outlining software.
By the time things are gearing up for Harry Reid, there’s more urgency about security. I get backstage where Reid’s meeting with Franken, and catch a glimpse of them both. While Speaker Pelosi travels with plainclothes Capitol Police with some local Las Vegas plainclothes officers, Senator Reid seems to have a large number of uniformed Las Vegas officers as well, augmented by Rio security. I start chatting with someone I assume is a Reid staffer. Nope, it’s mcjoan. Oops. The security, it seems, is all about Dan Choi. He and others were arrested after blocking the Las Vegas strip earlier in the week, protesting Reid's inaction in taking action on ENDA. What Choi wanted to do was give Reid his West Point ring because it was no longer meaningful to Choi. Netroots organizers had already diffused the situation by engaging mcjoan to give Reid Choi’s ring on Choi’s behalf. Nonetheless when Choi stood and saluted Reid, and Reid motioned to Choi to come on stage, security tensed and gathered at the sides of the stage ready to pounce. They only relax after Choi leaves the stage. Afterwards, I overhear intense discussion amongst the Las Vegas officers about how Reid had invited Choi to the stage, perhaps realizing how close they’d come to creating the sort of incident they were there to prevent. After Reid’s session, I move to go backstage but get cutoff by Rio security. I start to try and explain myself, but then decide I’d rather thank Dan Choi for his service. He’s surrounded by people and I wait my turn, shaking his had and thanking him. I’ll continue to serve by holding people accountable, he says.
The closing program is another long line of speakers. Franken’s holed up in his dressing room, working on his speech, interrupted by another parade of progressive media and bloggers getting some face time with the Senator. Lawrence O'Donnell strides in, wearing a badge that from someone named Brad. I’m standing in the wings of the stage listening to Chuck Rocha when Franken comes flying by me, his staffer a few steps behind. He stands there listening intently to Rocha’s speech. I imagine he’s having the same reaction I did when I first heard Rocha at last year’s Netroots Nation: Who the hell is that guy? His speech done, Franken sits down in the audience, watching speakers, especially his former campaign manager Stephanie Schriock and Tarryl Clarke, a fellow Minnesotan seeking to unseat Michelle Bachmann. I wait in the wings as Franken gathers himself, goes onstage and starts his speech. Afterwards, Netroots staff gather backstage. Markos comes back, thanks everybody and hands out and signs prerelease copies of his book, American Taliban. I get motioned into the traditional picture with the keynote speaker. It’s Franken who takes charge of framing the shot ("you’ve done this before, I gather" somebody says). Me, I’m thinking that this should be a curtain call on stage, an opportunity for Netroots attendees to thank the volunteers and staff whose tireless efforts bring the conference to you.