Day Three at the RNC: When You're In the Fetal Position Everything is Looking Up

Let’s Republican Party!!

You can hear what’s happening at the Republican National Convention wherever you go in the building. Everyone is yelling, and it is loud, turned-to-11-loud, all the time, no matter what. The first female Shuttle Commander Eileen Collins was possibly the first speaker of the week to use her inside voice. I watched Ted Cruz’s speech from a closed Quicken Loans Arena employee cafeteria on a little television, on a delay. There was a weird reverberating echo, mouths were moving not in connection to the words. You get the same effect. There’s not much too it. Ken the station manager says he watches it on mute and understands everything perfectly.

I get to the arena as early as I can, drink some coffee and prepare myself for what awaits me. I’ve watched a lot of the mic checks — the Gettysburg Address is loaded into the teleprompter. Sometimes speakers will read it, usually kind of poorly. When Ted Cruz did his mic check today he had a blue shirt on and no tie. He looked relaxed, at peace with himself. Confident even. He counted from 1 to 10. He recited a few lines of “Green Eggs and Ham.” That was funny! People laughed. Heidi emerged from a group at the podium and they practiced holding hands and waving to the crowd. Like a couple of weird robots might. And I was like, this is going to be a great night for Ted Cruz.

Forget Ted Cruz — Laura Ingraham was the most exciting speaker of the night. They should have her speak once an hour. I know people today are making fun of a Nazi salute moment. It’s stuff like that that makes everyone attending this convention loathe reporters. Take one innocent frozen moment that’s optically bad and blow it up to be a something. She was exciting! I didn’t agree with a word she said! But we should be thankful to anyone who brings energy to this arena. Mike Pence was like a total normal Republican person giving a totally normal speech. I don’t agree with him. But that’s what convention speeches are supposed to look like. All of them.

I spent a long time on the floor of the convention. The delegate convention seats are so soft. How can you be angry when you are seated on such comfy chairs? The only thing I would be chanting on the floor of the RNC would be “I love this chair!” Everyone could probably chant that for hours. I sat in Chris Christie’s seat. It felt like I was in the center of a broken universe. I have walked where LeBron James walked and I have sat where Chris Christie sat. Those are tough shoes to fill and a big butt to emulate. But I was feeling pretty good.

Public Square, the big protest area in downtown Cleveland, has become a central gathering point for anyone who wants to act nuts and get in the Washington Post this week. Preachers, people in canvas ponchos with Donald Trump’s wall painted on them, lots of bored legal observers from Amnesty International who are here to make sure no one’s rights are trampled. People hungry for delicious truck food. There are 50 reporters to cover every crazy person, like a guy riding a bike dressed like a Weiner with a glass that says Donald Trump Eats farts or a man in a diaper you’re supposed to kick. We’re here, we’re bored, we’ve all been assigned by our bosses to go to Public Square and talk to the craziest people we can find.

Like these free hug people. I was skeptical. I don’t usually like being touched by other people. But it was kind of nice. I was feeling less like I was in the belly of a Kraken and more like I’d been thrown up by a Kraken. And throwing up always makes me feel better. It seemed like a kind of naive, woo-woo thing I would normally hate and make fun of. But I’m having kind of a week. My phone broke and I had to buy a new one. My computer died and I have to buy a new one. Everyone keeps asking me when Tim Tebow is speaking. I needed a fucking hug. And I got one. They gave me a Free Hugs t-shirt, too. Which is good because I really packed light.