I’m watching the Republican convention on TV. I said I wouldn’t, but after a couple of drinks, I can almost tolerate it. Almost. Although I wasn’t born yet in 1954, it reminds me of cold war era conservative vitriol and Reagan era yard sale philosophies.

As I tune in, Mike Huckabee is lecturing the congregation. “Democrats are tackier than a costume change at a Madonna concert.” Wow, he is “cool” and “with it”. Just say no, Mike. “My dad lifted heavy things.” I’m like you. Wtf? I lift heavy things and I think you suck.

My blood is boiling. An auditorium full of the people I avoid and smile politely when I see them in the grocery store, or at a school function. Tight lipped sanctimonious bastards. Mean spirited or rich, take your pick.

Reminds me of why I hated going to Sunday school. Reminds me of why I turn the radio when Paul Harvey comes on. Reminds me of why so many people don’t want any part of democracy.

In between speakers, they play a mix of 70’s disco and contemporary country. The camera pans the audience – bald bespectacled businessman trying to “get down” with a McCain sign. Why can’t any of them dance?! They try, but no go. They look like their backbones are fused. I’m actually flipping off the tv – with my middle finger. I watch it on CSPAN so I don’t have to listen to the talking heads. If you want to experience apoleptic rage, watch it on Fox news.

Another speaker, Rudy Giuliani. And what is with the hokey, funky bad truckstop photo backgrounds.

I can’t take it, so I turn on my laptop and watched Rage Against the Machine from earlier in the day, in St. Paul, MN. Real heros. Denied, by the police, an opportunity to play, they make the best of it peacefully. Zach de la Rocha takes the bullhorn by the horns and asks everyone to peacefully protest the fascists in charge of this government. He brays out the line he used when I saw RATM last summer. “They’re not afraid of 4 musicians from LA, THEY”RE AFRAID OF YOU! Since they can’t perform with instruments, the perform acapella. Testify Bulls on parade, with Rudy Guilliani, still blah, blahing on the tv, in the background. It seems appropriate.

Cindy Mcain, with her haute coture and pearls. reminds me of Nancy Reagan which reminds me of how pissed off and frustrated I was in college when Ronald Reagan was elected. The young republicans. Errgh.

Back to the convention. They all look goony-eyed, the way only religious zealots and teenaged girls can. (and when did nuclear power become political again? Are we going to have to call Jackson Browne out again?)

The camera pans the crowd. I saw Steve King, Iowa’s looney senator and almost puked. Why am I wishing the building would be hit by a mind erasing funny beam.

I grew up with grandparents who were fundamental Christians and grandparents who were Irish catholics with a sense of humor. I liked the Irish catholics better. The baptists made me eat peas and say things I didn’t believe in.

What it boils down to is that for me, it’s about the people, not the suits and dresses on stage. When I look at the Republicans on TV, and when I brush elbows with Republicans here in Iowa, and when I meet Democrats here, it’s clear to me – the people that I like are most likely to be Democrats. The people I’m most likely to avoid in a drunk obnoxious state are Republicans and sport fans. The Democrats just seem cooler, not as cool as a room full of radical socialists, but cool, none-the-less – and have a lot better taste in music, hands down, and since music is food for the soul, I gotta beleive Democrats are better people.

Now it is time for the main show. I get the feeling that Sara Palin could take a shit onstage and the crowd would go wild. To me she sounds like a homecoming rally senior class president. I feel like I”m watching a Saturday Night Live skit – the church lady. I woiuld like to have Quentin Tarantino rewrite the script with a lot more blood. I listen with an almost open mind. Ok, now I hate her.

Observation: Feverish pitch of a tent revival, without the snakes. In all sadness, this strikes me as the first political battle over energy. A harbinger of dark times to come.

As a musician, I can’t help but comment, with all their stinkin’ money, they can’t afford a real band for John Rich. After a weak version of the Star Spangled Banner (Rich, Gretchen Wilson and Cowboy Troy(?) Rich performs some kind of radio commercial, rah, rah with just a Karaoke tape and a guitar. Go figure. If for no other reason than the Democrats have better musical taste, I’ll vote for Obama.

I have never watched a RNC convention, and may never again.