Rapture doesn’t come easy.
At least not when it involves Barack Obama’s acceptance speech and the countless folks finagling for access to Invesco Field on Aug. 28.
Take, for example, the South Korean high-office seeker who had his people phone Denver host committee chief Mike Dino for a ticket. Somehow, his aide explained, his attendance is vital to her boss’ electability.
Then there’s the guy named Richard from Massachusetts whose hubris stunned even Mike Stratton, a Denver Democratic consultant who has made a living brokering access to eight national conventions.
“Hey Mike, it’s Richard,” said the unfamiliar voice on the other end of the cellphone.
“Who?” Stratton asked.
Richard — with whom Stratton had lost contact after the two worked briefly back East on Gary Hart’s 1984 presidential bid — has called seven more times since June angling for entree.
Neighbors, relatives, yoga instructors, stock brokers, pedicurists and office mates to party hacks working even tangentially with the convention are trying to schmooze their way into seats witnessing history.
“Not an hour goes by that I don’t get hit up,” says Dino, who got the ask even by his family dentist.
“Everyone I’ve ever talked to has called and said, ‘Boy, I’d like a ticket to Obama,’ ” adds host committee finance chairman Steve Farber, 64, who has had inquires from people he hasn’t heard from since grade school.
One Obama staffer reports being approached in a span of three hours by a guy renting him a car, another delivering room service and a guest milling around his hotel lobby.
While Democratic consultant Jill Hanauer was in California for her sister’s wedding, a stylist offered her free convention-week blow-dry services in exchange for a pass to see Obama.
“I told her I’m not even sure I’ll have a ticket for myself,” Hanauer says.
Remember Veruca Salt, the spoiled daughter of a wealthy magnate who relied on her daddy’s workers to snag a golden ticket to Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory? It seems she has inspired one local financier’s daughter. Rather than apply for a ticket online like the masses, the young woman has dispatched several members of her father’s investment team to make daily calls for credentials, planners report.
One city official was amazed to hear from a man she dated twice 12 years ago pleading for passes for his friends.
Like cries for autographs, the requests often are phrased as if they’re for somebody else.
“Nobody wants to admit it’s for themselves,” Farber says.
“Everyone wants to tell their kids and grandkids they were there the night Obama accepted the nomination,” adds Obama co-chair Federico Peña, who reports inquiries from a bevy of “not terribly close friends.”
Cole Finegan, managing partner of Hogan & Hartson’s Denver law and lobbying office, has a pat response when approached about the speech.
“Are you one of our clients?” he asks. “If not, I’ll add you to our list.”
A veteran of the I’ll-scratch- your-back-you-scratch-mine world of Democratic politics, even Finegan was surprised by the call from his in-laws’ minister in Oklahoma City.
Aside from a hospitality suite and other Democratic face time his D.C.-based firm is offering clients during convention week, he declines to discuss what methods he uses to gain access at Invesco Field.
“There’s no way that comes across well,” he says. “Let’s just say I’m one of the grovelees.”
Susan Greene writes Sundays, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Reach her at 303-954-1989 or greene@denverpost.com.
