Really I don't think I could have handled four nights of the GOP convention in Tampa. Thank goodness I was able to flip between tennis and the convention: The USOpen, The USClosed, U.S. open, U.S. closed.
It was like being in some horrible comedy club -- Tampa's Yuck Yuck [as in icky] Comedy Cellar. The opening acts were teabagging governors, also-rans and up-and-comers roasting Obama, whom I choose to call President Obama. I don't know if I was more disheartened by the stand-ups or the fact that they got such huge laughs in the hall.
The first night headliners were Ann Romney who wanted to talk to us about love, then Gov. Chris Christie who didn't want to talk about love and mistakenly gave an angry acceptance speech. That made Condi Rice look like a reasonable person. The second night headliner VP nominee, Paul Ryan gave himself goose bumps and fact-checkers time and a half. The theme of the third night was "Awkward" and showcased Clint Eastwood, exhibit A of how the GOP will treat seniors and finally Mitt Romney, who succeeded by not being Clint Eastwood. Cue balloon drop and many many adorable blonde mini-Mormons ignoring their parents.
The front of the house was chaotic and unfocused. Because the embedded media was fascinated with the train wreck of a convention, they never covered the backstage where all the cut-throat fundraising and focused fat-cat deal-making was happening. The clever GOP ploy worked.
I am going to talk to an empty chair now.