Notebook: SWAT Teams and Limousines

DENVER, COLO. — Yesterday, the Democratic National Convention officially got underway. Thousands of delegates crowded the streets beneath the blistering Colorado sun to eat, drink and be generally merry while their opponents held signs that read “Ask Me Why You’re Going to Hell.”

The warm breeze blew as columns of bike-riding officers coasted down the street. A small contingent of Hillary Clinton supporters marched holding signs that read “Stop the Manchurian Candidate,” leading one young man with a Superman tattoo to comment, “Is Clinton even in the race anymore?” before commenting on how “Everyone else in Denver seems like they want this Obama guy to win.”

The anti-abortion van drove down the street, recklessly displaying a six-foot tall aborted fetus to folks of all ages as sounds of “Give Peace a Chance” rang through the air. Yet again. The suits were everywhere, as were the handkerchief-wielding anarcho-punks. For a few brief hours in the Denver afternoon, it was a mix of humanity. And then the politicos went o the Pepsi Center for Michelle Obama’s tear-jerking speech, the anarcho-punks congealed in front of the capitol and the police double-checked their own packs for gas masks and went out to enforce.

Smelling the teargas in the air, I set out to find its origin. My nose led me to 15th and Court, where I found this:

And that was about as close as I could get. Common Market emcee RA Scion, though, was on the other side of the Denver Police Metro Swat, as he later related. “I saw that something was happening,” he said later at the Hylton Tech Center, where he and this reporter are staying, along with the Washingon and Oregon delegations. “So I go up there and pretty soon I am between the protesters and the cops, on the front lines.”

For the next half hour or so, RA Scion was holding the line between the two parties. “There was one guy behind me who kept yelling over me at the cops. ‘Fuck the police!’ ‘What are you gonna do?’ ‘This is a police state!’ He wouldn’t stop and he was drunk and smoking a cigarette. After long enough I turned and said, ‘Hey, man. What do you think? You think the cops are going to step down if you keep yelling at them like that? Just be patient and let this thing work itself out.’ He stopped. But then he said to me, he said, ‘Okay, but I don’t appreciate your tone.’ Can you believe that?”

While RA Scion was holding the line (and reportedly keeping his shoes clean the whole while), I was wandering about downtown, away from the tear gas and towards the scent of intoxicated politicians. On the way, I was witness to one of the most interesting phone calls I have ever heard. I know it was rude, but I took a seat on a nearby bench, smoked a cigarette and recorded the conversation, in hopes that you would enjoy hearing a woman verbally castrate her ex-husband.

Cue angry woman:

Eventually I left and found my way, through numerous twists and turns, on a bus heading to the Rolling Stone party.

Arriving at the party, though, I was greated by a grand exodus, at 11pm. Rolling Stone, it seems, goes to bed early. I did, though, witness the meeting of RZA and Susan Sarandon. RZA’s a big fan. Susan has no idea who RZA is.

So, what is a music journalist to do but head to the next biggest music party, which was at the Denver Opera House, where Pete Wentz and Fall Out Boy were playing the Rock the Vote party. Ladies and gentlemen (but mostly ladies) here is Pete Wentz with his pants down (kind of).

After that, the party moved downstairs where the VIPs all drank and sang along to Bon Jovi.

Cue the slippery one:

And then, of course, it was a long limo ride home with the devil to rest in preparation for tonight’s Common Market and Blue Scholars show as well as the hotly anticipated speech fro Hillary Clinton. The devil tells me its going to be a bit of a letdown.