This is it. Day 4.
I feel watching the DNC 2024 is like I am watching the Avengers saga for the first time running up to Endgame. Every episode just gets impossibly better. And today is Endgame day. Yesterday was just packed with raw emotion. Expected and unexpected emotion. Walk with me.
Music is a huge part of my life. I have a soundtrack that goes with it, as many of us do. I love the way it has always been there for the Democrats, not in a cringe way but in a joyful and beautiful way. So before I move on to other emotions I want to acknowledge that feature in this year’s DNC. From the awesome live band that plays the intros and outros AND performs covers with amazing talent to the DJ Cassidy Roll Call, from the recorded music to the live artists on stage.
Day three was no exception. Stevie Wonder chose the classic “Higher Ground”, a great choice among his stellar playlist. ““People keep on learning/Soldiers keep on warring/World keep on turning/’Cause it won’t be too long.” It can’t be too soon. The house went crazy but wait a minute, there was John Legend too, bringing none other than Sheila E to the stage! Wow! And I mean WOW! The minute she stepped on stage I knew Prince was coming. And we REALLY went CRAZY!
This DNC is a celebration. Some cynical voices would tell you conventions are marketing ops and to a degree they are. The difference with this one is that it’s a celebration of us. We are celebrating our newfound unity and purpose. A TikTok user I love, KJ Miller, defined it perfectly. This feeling we have reminds us of 2008 but it’s different. I was here for Obama that year, he was also a kid from modest origins rising up, but we were like in a transe of hope and History.
We were not in a personality cult but Obama made us look up to him and place our hope in him and the feeling HE would make history was inescapable. It was glorious but, like I mentioned a few days back on these threads, this time it feels different. And the reason is, as KJ Miller pointed out, that although Harris has that same aura of hope and history around her that feeling is not just about her. It’s about us. We are the cause for celebration and joy. She lifts US up.
Kamala and Tim are the vessels of our hopes and dreams and when they take the stage it’s like we are there with them. They are exactly like us. It feels like they look up to us and we feel this urge to not let them down, to deserve their trust. And yesterday it was Tim’s acceptance day. A day filled with talented, bright speakers, some young and some old, some on the way in, some on the way out, but all touched by that light that shines through this campaign. A light that comes from us.
We knew some of the orators, we expected some words and were pleasantly surprised by others. Our preferences made us smile a little wider or cringe just a bit to them and that’s okay. Let’s just say there were very few cringes and a whole lot of smiles. We are moving forward, my Thriends. To the old guard we say thank you for your service and good bye. Let’s leave it at that. On the younger, brighter side I loved Shapiro’s swagger and Buttigieg’s passion. They rock.
Like some are saying our bench is deep. Our future is bright. There is no limit. All we need to do is one thing: keep on voting. Not just this once. Every single time. If we do that one thing, that one simple, precious thing we will achieve so much. Together. Every day so far has been such a joy to watch and such an emotional roller coaster. For there are the things we dream of and fight for and then there are those we dread and battle. We are feeling both. Intensely.
The surprise of day three was a gut punch. I was not prepared for it, nor were the thousands at that arena in Chicago. When the announcer introduced Rachel Goldberg and Jon Polin my heart just stopped for a second. I wasn’t ready. The applause… The standing ovation that went on for minutes as they took the stage and then, as the hands stopped, this chant that swelled and filled the house: “Bring them home.” Rachel broke down in tears, over the lectern, Jon gently pulling her back up.
That moment was lost as the cameras showed the crowd for exactly those few seconds, as if for some miracle the production foresaw it and spared that amazing woman the televised unimaginable grief that took over her for a few seconds. When they went back to her and her husband she was standing tall again as she had been for 320 days since her son Hersh was taken from life, herself and Jon, as she said. It was the first time such emotion was shared and viewed by millions. 320 days later.
Both Rachel and Jon delivered their remarks for their son and all the other 108 hostages still in the hands of Hamas, deep in the tunnels of Gaza. As he said, they may have been at a political event, but their cause is not political. It’s human. And he begged for an end of both the suffering of the hostage families AND the despair in Gaza. And the crowd was with them. And there was this moment when the applause roared again when the cameras focused on a face. One face on the screen.
It was the face of Ilhan Omar. I don’t know what others felt in those split seconds. I know what I felt. I felt I was looking at the face of hate. She could barely disguise her disdain and her sheer disgust at all those thousand of people applauding “the Jews”. Sorry Not Sorry. It’s what I saw on her face. Thank God it only lasted a few seconds. We have had enough of that. And then, with a voice that all her strength could muster, Rachel Goldberg called on her son.
“Hersh… Hersh, if you can hear us… We love you. Stay strong. Survive.” I was crying by them. Jon finished with the call we have been repeating for 321 days now: Bring Them Home! Thank you, DNC, for giving the hostages a voice. Not a political voice. A human voice. In contrast to this humanity, at the Loop, downtown, the chants of “death to America” and “killer Kamala” were faint but were there, as the “Make it great like 68” repugnant shit stains purposefully clashed with the police.
Last night was game night. The coach was up and for that we were ready! With his wife, Gwen, and his children, Hope and Gus, in the audience, Tim made a passionate acceptance speech during which he touched on familiar passages, among which his personal experience with IVF. We’ve heard it before but not like last night. We watched Hope and Gus tear up and witnessed the moment that boy stood up and pointed at his father, tears rolling down his face, and proudly said: “That’s my dad!”
Today I found out Gus is neurodivergent. And like so many of us let me make it clear to the fascist pigs out there: keep this kid’s name out of your fucking mouths, you pieces of shit. He’s off limits. Period. That emotion, those tears of joy, remained through Walz’s last words as he gave us the Coach pep talk we expected. We listened as if we were a bunch of kids in a high school, somewhere in America. And it hit us: no matter where in America. Anywhere.
Suddenly, I was back to my Friday night lights post a few days back. The Coach said: “We’re down a field goal. But we’re on offense and we’ve got the ball. We’re driving down the field. And, boy, do we have the right team.” We sure do coach! We fucking got this! Let’s get out there and leave it all on the field. We got just about 70 days. We’ll sleep when we’re fucking dead! Now let’s go win this thing!
We’re not going back!
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