I knew
that this would be depraved. Not because I came down here with an
anus full of substances; if the $50 million in security preemptively
accomplished one thing, it was to scare me out of smuggling mushrooms
in my undies. Rather, my premonition came at Logan airport, where I
sat stranded in the terminal for two hours with the likes of Mitt
Romney cohort Eric Fehrnstrom, who's best known lately for boosting
Etch A Sketch sales; anti-choice, anti-marijuana, pro-charter school
New Hampshire Senator Kelly Ayotte; and Boston Herald gasbag
Howie Carr, who was rocking short-shorts and Birkenstocks despite the
promise that he'd sport bright-yellow hurricane year. It was the Mile
Low Club if there ever was one.
Fortunately,
it turns out that the Republican National Convention did attract some
respectable folks. I found a fleet of them on Monday morning, in a
field behind the buildings where Tampa's finance chumps crush dreams,
and not far away from one of the most bustling homeless populations
in America. They were gathered for the much-anticipated March on the
RNC, which, due to weather complications, was far less robust than
was projected. With that said, there were still a few hundred cats
outside enduring a kaleidoscopic spectrum of oppressive climates,
which is more than I can say for the Republicans, who otherwise
reject science but for some reason yielded to fickle weather gypsies
and postponed their festivities.
All
the better for protesters, who drove, flew, and bussed in from throws
as far away as San Francisco and Seattle. While GOP delegates were
shopping at big box stores, activists from seemingly every opposition
front imaginable – Occupy Wall Street, Elect Democracy, the Green
Party, Food Not Bombs, 99 Uniting, and you name it – were getting
warmed up for a week of belittling pols and delegates. Monday's march
was supposed to attract 5,000 heads; but with a little less than 500,
they got busy anyway, starting with a rally to fire up the crowd with
tales of economic woe and inequity. As one speaker noted, for
example, there are more than 20 empty homes for every homeless
American.
In a good way,
there's not much to say about the subsequent marches that hasn't
already been well-reported by the Tampa Bay Times and other
sources. With the Republicans taking most of Monday off, there was
something like a journalist and cameraman for every five protesters.
Cops and troopers, who must be under strict orders not to brutalize
peaceful marchers, handled everything with kid gloves. They even
brought the nice chief down to explain that masks are not allowed
(only one person didn't listen, and was arrested as a result). If you
can get over their new taxpayer-funded drone tanks, mountain bikes,
and uniforms – the latter of which, despicably, have Velcro name
badges rather than embroidery, so they can be removed if shit goes
down – then they're a decent herd for sure.
Using
their better judgement, authorities even allowed a brief but loud
late-afternoon rally five miles outside of downtown, in front of
headquarters for the Bain Capital-funded Bloomin' Brands, which owns
the authentic likes of Outback Steakhouse and Carrabba's Italian
Grill, and which furiously lobbies against efforts to raise the
minimum wage. In the thick of the picket, I met Simara Martinez from
Dorchester. At 21-years-old, she recently had to decide between
keeping her job at the Bain-backed Dunkin' Donuts, and attending
Bunker Hill Community College. She couldn't afford to do both, so,
faced with that conundrum, she linked up with the Bay State
organizing outfit MassUniting, and pursued a third option. Along with
more than 100 other workers from across America – most of whom have
also been denied a living wage by Bain companies – Martinez headed
to Tampa to fight for her future. “Romney says that he wants to
create jobs,” she said. “But if these are the kind of jobs he's
going to create, then we're all screwed.”
There
wasn't much action after that, other than a late-night street party
in Ybor City, which is the only part of Tampa where there are more
authentic eateries than chain holes like Carrabba's. Initiated by members of
Code Pink, who had their huge vaginas on display all day, the roving
bash grooved through the streets, sometimes aggravating cops but not
enough to provoke mayhem. When asked where they were going, one
protester told an officer that they were “dancing [their] way out
of the two-party system.” It was an absolute riot – but only
figuratively – and police must have realized that, because despite
their ridiculous 100-plus presence and accompanying helicopters, they
eventually cleared out, as most protesters headed to sleep or into
bars for a nightcap. Of course, we'll have to wait and see what
happens as the week progresses. I had similar nice things to say
about Chicago cops at NATO on the first day, and they went on to
commit some of the most heinous acts that American protesters have
endured in years.