I had originally intended to write about all four nights of the Democratic Convention, but a flu bug going around my office found me on Wednesday, so I ended up sleeping through Bill Clinton’s speech and pretty much everything else that occurred in the world over the past 48 hours. I did wake up for Barack Obama’s speech, but I was still too groggy to make much sense of it. I could have sworn he said he was going to cut taxes for 95% of working Americans (or was it only 95 working Americans?) and pay for the tax cut by going through the budget line by line to cut out waste. Did I hear that correctly, or was that some stray Ronald Reagan memory?
Mostly what I focused on was the chicken coop podium that the DNC organizers brought with them from the Pepsi Center. As my wife pointed out, the columns behind Obama looked less like the Temple of Zeus than the windows in the Oval Office. Juxtaposing cornpone gimmicks and presidential power is a Republican trope, so it was surprising to see Obama with all his urban cool defining himself while standing behind an old Hee Haw prop.
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