On the Jumbotron screen you could see him making his way through the crowd, the people throwing themselves at him, shaking his hand like he knew all of the answers. It was dark except for camera flashes and blue glow sticks. The music was loud, pumping across the arena so you could almost feel the bass waves beneath your feet.
Which rock concert am I talking about? None. This was the Colorado Democratic State Assembly and Convention. I’m talking about Mark Udall, Democratic nominee for U.S. Senate. I’m talking about thousands of Democrats waving their blue glow sticks and their Udall and Hillary and Obama signs inside the World Arena as Udall walked to the stage to become the Colorado Democratic nominee for U.S. Senate.
The Democrats weren’t just supportive. They were fanatical.
I attended the convention as a delegate on May 17 at the World Arena in Colorado Springs. I couldn’t help but be reminded of my experiences at concerts, the parallels too evident to ignore.
It started with a long registration line on Friday afternoon at the State Assembly, a line that stretched around the Double Tree Hotel and took four hours to get through. The only other line I’ve stood in for over four hours was a queue outside of The Ogden before a Bright Eyes and The Faint concert. I was in middle school, so eager to be in the front to see the morose but at the time oh so captivating Conor Oberst of Bright Eyes. It was winter and I couldn’t feel my toes for the rest of the night. I told myself I would never again wait in a line for so long. Rain or shine. Indoors or outdoors. It didn’t matter. Nothing warranted so much time spent acting like a cow being herded into the slaughterhouse.
And then came the Democratic State Assembly and Convention.
This time my queuing was not by will, but mandatory in order to register. Whoever organized the assembly decided it would be a great idea to have only one area available to register all districts. This meant one line for thousands of people. It was crowded. I felt claustrophobic.
It reminded me of the Coachella Music Festival, in California, masses of people crammed together for hours by their own choice, bonded by one major similarity. At the convention it was by love of the Democratic Party. At Coachella, love of music.
I noticed one major differences between the events: At the assembly people passed chicken down the line, sharing with their fellow Democrats. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t chicken they were passing at Coachella.
Next characteristic attributable to both the convention and a concert: the people. At concerts people flaunt their dedication to the band, shunning those who have never heard the band’s home produced, limited edition four-track recording released in the first month of their bandom.
I felt the same cold glare I was given by devoted fans at concerts pierce through me from lifelong democrats at the convention. “You’re too young to be here,” a man from my district shouted at me from across the room. I’m only 18 and had been a registered Democrat for a mere six months. Clearly, I wasn’t worthy of my delegate position. I hadn’t shown enough loyalty to the party. I was probably going to report back to the Russians on the convention’s events.
Other zealous democrats simply ignored me, speaking loudly about how they voted for Kennedy to establish their superiority. People also dressed to express their enthusiasm, wearing nothing that wasn’t doused in either red, white or blue and proudly displaying the face of their favorite presidential candidate on the back of their shirts. I’ve never seen Obama’s smile so much in one day.
While the long line and the people were the first to put the concert comparison in mind, it was Udall’s entrance that clinched the parallel. He walked to the stage from the back of the arena for a dramatic affect. Glow sticks. Loud music. The crowd went wild. I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Does entertainment have to precede valuable political discussion? It’s disappointing to me that we need the whistles and bells to get people involved as citizens.
The campaign for the Democratic presidential nomination has in many ways been treated like a rock band’s big national tour.
Maybe Hillary and Obama will be bigger than the Beatles. Nah, that’s blasphemy.
Laurelin Kruse (lbkruse@gmail.com) is a graduating senior at Alamosa High School. She will enter Yale University this fall.
