I’m not the only person in Chicago who’s excited about getting a socialist president in office. People have their dogs dressed in Obama sweaters. Hundreds are showing up hours early for the Grant Park rally. Somewhere, I’m sure some breasts are being painted.
The downtown loop is bustling. News vans are lined around the block, and the talking heads are doing stand-ups, most of which are hilarious. You know all those stupid hot chicks who used to become strippers? They’re all television anchors now.
Police officers are on patrol in every mode; some are even on Segways, which makes it difficult to take them seriously – even if they’re strapped with so much artillery that they look like suicide bombers.
I walk around the back of Grant Park for a sneak peek at Obama’s $2 million microphone set-up. There’s a pack of military meatheads and secret service agents getting schooled by CPD officials, and I’m worried that they might confiscate my camera. Despite the shaved head, Army types always scowl at me as if they’ve read my articles.
It’s amazing how much a mere lanyard and access badge can inflate a small person’s ego. It’s like laminated platinum. There are thousands of these dipshits out here; I think there might be two reporters for every three spectators.
I’m looking for some cool Obama flare. So far the winner is this kid with a custom skateboard that he appears to have painted with White Out. You have to wonder if fans will keep rocking their Barack-N-Roll gear after the big win.
On a similar note, they’re already selling buttons that declare a blue victory. Surely nobody in Phoenix printed up 10,000 t-shirts that say “President McCain.” But if they did I want one to hang next to my New England Patriots Super Bowl XLII Champs g-string.