This morning, I woke up bright and early and drove to South Denver. Scott and I had agreed to meet at 09:00, and I thought I was going to be late since I didn't actually leave until 08:30. But traffic was surprisingly light, and I found myself pulling into the high school parking lot a few minutes early.

A crowed of people were already congregating in the middle of the lot, and as I walked around, I realized that Tobias was (almost) right at home amidst this batch of vehicles. Bumper stickers everywhere! "Impeach Bush." "Bush Lied / People Died" "Earth First" "John Kerry!" Some of the more bleeding edge ones read, "Kerry/Edwards 2004." A whole smattering of other nice random slogans. I even saw a Wesley Clark sticker on one car, which made me feel a little bit better about my Dean For America sticker, which I have persistently refused to remove.

As I stood around on the outskirts of the crowd, one woman asked if I was a driver? Umm.... Strictly speaking, the answer of the question would be Yes, in the sense that I have a license and drive a vehicle, but in whatever assumed context she meant... I answered with a blank stare.

She clarified. "Are you a volunteer?"

"No."

She smiled, said, "Oh ok," and suggested that I would still be welcome to partake of donuts and coffee sitting in the back of a nearby SUV. What the heck, why not?

I filled a cup half full, and drank the warm coffee. It tasted good. Warm enough to be good, but not super hot. I used it to wash down a glazed donut. Due to the small quantity, I felt no adverse effects on my nervous system, as I chatted briefly with a couple of the bus drivers.

I was psyched by the atmosphere. A nice festive group of people gathered to unite and make an effort to improve the country. A thirst for democracy in the air.

Scott showed up after a few minutes, and we learned that the venue had been changed due to possible rain, which might mean meeting Jenny would be trickier. Originally, it had been scheduled to take place outside the hospital where she works. (Which just happens to be the birthplace of John Kerry.) But now it was being moved to the Fillmore Auditorium.

We boarded one of several packed buses, and rode to the site event.

Outside the Fillmore, a large crowd of people were already lined up around the block, with all the commotion associated with a political gathering of national significance. We got off the bus, followed the crowd, and found ourselves waiting in one of several huge lines which spanned the streets.

While we waited in line, we learned that Dick Cheney is actually a robot designed by the Soviets, talked about Mike Miles (there were many Miles campaigners passing out flyers in the crowd, as well as a bunch of Salazar people), and signed a petition for a ballot initiative that would distribute Colorado's electoral college votes proportionally according to the popular vote. (For the record, I'm not necessarily convinced this is such a great idea, because a contest that isn't all-or-nothing could make us a less sought after state in presidential campaigns, but I decided it was worth putting on the ballot for the voters to decide anyway.)

Jenny called Scott on his cell, and confirmed that she and another coworker were coming. They coordinated, and met us in line. Now we were four.

It took ages for them to admit people into the building. Volunteers passed out bottled water to thirsty people in line. Eventually, we were finally admitted into the building.

At the entrance, there were metal detectors. When I saw those, it occurred to me that maybe it would have been a better idea to detach my pocket knife from my keys before departing. Had I been thinking ahead, I would have done so. Oh well. Too late now. Maybe they would let it through anyway. Many guards at other entrances with metal detectors have often allowed my innocent little keyring-attached multi-purpose tool through without comment. Such places included the Colorado Capitol Building and DIA (pre-9/11), so maybe common sense might prevail here too. I hoped.

No such luck. Doing as instructed, I removed all metal objects from my pocket. As soon as the 3 inch knife touched the table, one of the guards practically had a panic attack, and said that under no circumstances could it be allowed inside. Common sense was obviously too much to ask for here. (If you think that's a bit silly, get this: They were also refusing to allow people to carry umbrellas in. Paranoia taken to the degree of complete idiocy. And people say mental health patients can be kooky sometimes...)

The guard suggested that my knife could be put in their box for me to retrieve on the way out, but warned that they could make no gurantees that I would get it back. So be it. I parted with the knife, separated my two sets of keys from it, and continued in without further incident.

(In an objective sense, the knife's value is probably negligible, but I got it as a gift long ago, and I've carried the damn thing everywhere for years, so I've developed a sort of sentimental attachment to it. I almost wished I had just kept it and stayed outside. Screw Kerry and his goons. But that would have complicated things for the others in the group. Stupid me for not leaving it at home or in the car.)

Inside, we were directed where to go based on the color of our tickets. Tickets to the event came in three colors: Red, white, and blue. Each color of ticket allowed access to different areas inside the auditorium. The reds were closest to the stage, the blues slightly farther away, and the whites were relegated to the crappy area where you couldn't see much of anything except the backs of tv camera operators.

We had blue tickets, due to the connections through which they had been obtained at Jenny's work. We were special, but not extra special. A stratified society, including social classes and the implications they bring, all encapsulated inside this campaign rally.

Due to this and other factors, once we were inside the building, I no longer felt the exuberance and wonder of open participatory democracy anymore. Here, the people's energy had been twisted into something more sinister. The place was crawling with agents. We were being herded around like lemmings.

Even the way the auditorium was arranged lent the suggestion that all these bodies who had bothered to show up and cheer were nothing more than props for the show. A massive platform, spanning almost the entire width of the hall, was placed a few decameters back from the stage. On it sat a long row of tv cameras. Anyone standing behind it (i.e. the bulk of the crowd; the ones with "white tickets") wouldn't be likely to see the stage at all. This is the new republic. Of the television cameras, By the television cameras, and For the television cameras. Everything else is incidental.

A sign, held by a lone dissidant who had been standing outside the front door, suddenly seemed to hold greater relevance. "Democrats are the Left Wing of the Fascist Party."

Or maybe I was still just annoyed that they had taken my pocket knife.

Not content with the place we had found to stand (there were few to no chairs anywhere), Scott started wandering around the building, and invited me to wander along. Had I not been behind him, he probably would have successfully made it into the Red Ticket area undetected, even while remaining blissfully ignorant that it had been designated as a place where only Red Ticket holders are allowed to go.

As it was, he slipped by, I got stopped by a cute campaign volunteer who asked to see my ticket, and when I revealed it, she told me blue was not allowed to go there. I shouted to Scott, who had almost disappeared into the red crowd, and he returned. It was all very amusing.

Scott eventually discovered that we were allowed admittance to the balcony at the very back of the auditorium, which had the advantage of bleacher style seating. The four of us found seats in this sparsely populated distinct, and minutes later it was packed with people.

We waited, and waited, and waited. Inch by inch, the White Ticket area filled with more human fodder. Someone suggested that it seemed a lot like a high school prep rally. The comparison seemed fitting.

A somewhat elderly man -- himself enthusiastic -- began trying to lead our section of the crowd in chanting some catchy thing about Kerry and the Freedom Trail. I tried shouting and clapping, hoping maybe I could get into it, but my heart just wasn't there. Neither, apparently, were most of the other people in the area. The best he got was a minority to go along with it in a sort of half-hearted compliance, which quickly died out several times.

It was a far cry from the spontanious energy and excitement of last year's Dean rally.

We waited. And waited. And waited. Our butts got tired. Scott got hungry. Hours passed. Literally.

Rows of people got on stage and started standing on the risers behind the distant podium. More waiting. They didn't look comfortable up there at all.

Eventually, the Kerry/Edwards family entourage took the stage to standing ovation. (Well, everyone else was already standing. But we in the back got to stand up and stretch.)

A couple of lesser politicans spoke briefly. One of them led the crowd in the Pledge of Allegiance, which seemed slightly odd, but I guess it was no less so than anything else. (And yes, the words "under God" were included in this rendition.) I noticed that a few people in our section were sitting silently while everyone else stood and recited.

Since I have never bothered to form a clear policy on the issue, and didn't have time to think about it, I did the default and said it along with the majority of the crowd. Afterwards, I sort of regretted it, because I know of its fascistic connections, in addition to the symbolic pseudo-religious mingling in state affairs caused by the controversial 2 extra words. Oh well. Good for the courageous sitters.

The real speeches began with John Kerry's daughter, who said some stuff about how much she enjoyed being around the Edwards family. This was followed by a talk by Elizabeth Edwards, who actually did a pretty good job of giving some impassioned oratory about the future of the country, her husband, and the would-be President who had chosen him.

Then came Teresa Heinz. Her speech was... well, pretty flat. Fortunately, it didn't last too long.

Then John Edwards took the podium, and talked about health care, education, and how America needs to be united, not divided. He does know how to get people inspired. I like the way $mentor[0] put it a few weeks ago: There is a warmth to the man. You can just feel it when you hear him speak. He's likable, and somehow engenders trust in a way that's indescribable. Maybe because you get the feeling he knows what it's like to be at the bottom, and wants to help you get up. Like a male version of Eva Peron. Or something.

Then, finally, there was John Kerry. His speech.... well, it was what I might have expected, but even shallower than I might have hoped for. Lots of platitudes, clichés, nice sounding but meaningless statements, and... well... to be honest, I got bored and my mind started wandering. People applauded his statements quite often, although it rarely got very intense. (Or maybe I've just been spoiled by an unnamed person from Vermont.)

One thing I did notice was that he never mentioned Bush by name (nor did anybody else who had spoken). A few times, he did elude to Bush's failures, but never talked about them directly. I guess the theory goes that Bush can make an idiot of himself just fine without Kerry's help, Kerry can let other people do the criticizing, and he will stay above the fray. It's probably a wise strategy, but quite boring, especially when you consider that Kerry's most endearing trait as a candidate is... well... he's not George Bush. :)

At some point, while feeling around in my pockets, I realized that my second detached ring of keys was missing. Had they fallen out somewhere? I double checked my pockets again, searched the floor, and could find them nowhere. They were gone. Period.

At least I still had my main keys. There were only 2 keys on the ring that was missing. Both were replacable. One was the key to my dad's apartment. Another could be made, if necessary. The other was for my bike lock. I had a duplicate at home.

An annoyance? Yes. But not a catastrophy.

I concluded that maybe in my rush to catch up with the group after my delay at security, I had simply grabbed the pile of keys that had been whisked across the table past the metal detector, and somehow, the second set hadn't made it around. Carelessness, strike two. At this point, I was getting very annoyed with myself.

Kerry finished his speech, and we headed for the exit. I scanned around, asking attendants at the door about where the boxes might be (the entire metal detector setup had been removed, and the floodgates opened). I looked through a box full of umbrellas, and didn't see it. Another box in the corner did not yield anything. I was about to give up, when I spotted another box between the sets of doors, resting behind a group of police.

I went over and asked one of the officers if my knife might be in the box. She held it up, and amidst a pile of other pocket knives, my little red piece lay peacefully. I retrieved it, and also scanned briefly for my other keys, but did not see them. At least I got the knife. That was the important part.

As we exited the building, it was 1500. This had taken significantly longer than any of us had expected.

Instead of taking the bus back, Jenny and her coworker offered to give Scott and I a ride to our cars. So the 4 of us rode together. We ended up waiting not once, but twice, while roads were blocked off for Kerry's massive caravan of vehicles to pass. Motorcycles, SUVs, minivans, on and on. And he isn't even the President yet!

As we neared the high school where our cars were parked, Scott and I spotted a Cici's Pizza across the street. After they dropped us off, we went over and feasted. Yumm...

1700. Due to the loss of keys, I wouldn't be able to get back into my dad's apartment until he arrived back home. So I went to mom's place, checked my email, and surfed the web from there for a little while.

Now, I'm back over here at the Neighborly Abode. I got another duplicate key made. It's late at night now. I'm tired.

Everyone please vote for Kerry and Edwards because they suck less than the rest.

God, that was a pathetic sentence. Oh well. It's as good a political argument as I can come up with at this point. Peace out. I'm going under.