Put some fun into convention time

Well, I did it. I trudged through two political conventions. Can’t say I enjoyed them so why, you ask, watch them? I guess it’s because I like to be informed.

If I’m going to have a conversation with somebody about this or that, I like to have done my homework first. I like to get my information direct from the source when possible, rather than simply going with whatever headline I glanced at or whatever sound bite was provided. (And the more I talk to people, the more I see that more and more people are getting their “information” from just that.)

As I watched the amazing biological hot-air machines spew and belch forth their copious amounts of bovine manure (could do a whole study on greenhouse gasses at those conventions) I realized that this is boring. I mean, I don’t think anybody tuned in looking for any surprises, did they?

“WHAT? Obama is a socialist who wants to take all my money and run the country into the dirt? When did this happen?” or “Romney and his pals are taking money from the middle class and using it to light the cigars of their corporate pals? NO! Say it isn’t so!”

I think the only thing we really looked for was the delivery. How would they say it was really the only point. One exception, at least for me, was watching good ole’ Clint Eastwood talking to the empty chair. Although he got lampooned for that on a national scale, I guess I’m warped because I thought it was funny. And there you have it — the real solution to getting people to honestly pay attention and care about what you have to say — humor.

Who doesn’t like to laugh, and if we all know that the people prancing around stage aren’t really going to say anything new or enlightening anyway, why not mix it up a little?

The Republican National Convention was first. For them I say, embrace the stereotype. Let’s have the candidate and other politicians walk onto the stage wrapped in NASCAR-style jackets with corporate logos all over them (banks, oil companies, etc.). Maybe Romney could have dressed up in a Riddler-inspired suit only instead of question marks, his costume has the dollar signs all over it.

Ryan keeps getting teased about his age. So what if he pedaled out on a Big Wheel in knickers and a propeller beanie? He could ring a little bell on the handlebars every time Romney makes a point. Since the Republicans never seem to do well with musicians whenever they use their songs, stick to really, really old classical music. It’ll go along well with the stiff, old-school image. But stay away from “The War of 1812.” Not a good idea right now.

The Democratic National Convention would be more fun. I say play “Yakkety Sax” as the delegates run around the convention floor hall. Maybe the networks could speed up the film a little so it looks like they’re running around really fast. Michelle Obama should have started her speech about how tough she and Barack had it growing up with “once upon a time …” just to put it into the proper perspective. Maybe wear a “Cat In the Hat” style hat just for emphasis.

Bill Clinton should have shuffled out onto the stage with his pants down around his ankles, his boxers adorned with “Hillary 2016.” Elizabeth Warren could have delivered her speech dressed up like Sacajawea or Pocahontas. Then, at the very end of the convention, have the “Looney Tunes” music play while Biden pops his head through the backdrop, waves to the audience and says, “Buh buh bee ah dee buh … THAT’S ALL, FOLKS!”

Other than that, don’t let him speak! At the most, maybe let him do a puppet show or something. If he’s upset about that, just promise him ice cream after the convention is over if he’s a good boy and behaves.

Start running your conventions like that every presidential election year and it’ll be like the Super Bowl. Everybody will watch. Heck, the networks could probably score millions from endorsements from companies like Bain, BP, Solyndra (oops, scratch Solyndra). Maybe it would start a trend and we could enjoy elections run with humor at the local level.

Lord knows I would love to see a skit from our own assembly involving a ferry with no place to dock. Or, they could sit in a box wearing hats decked out like cellphone towers and as they pop their heads up through holes, you have to try and whack them. Hmm, think I’m onto something here,

Ben Compton is a Palmer resident and publishes his column as “Compton’s Corner,” the same title used by his grandmother, Phyllis Compton, a longtime Frontiersman columnist.