I’m ignoring the Republican National Convention as best I can. I ignored the DNC, too. Both conventions have become nothing but theater. The nominees are decided months in advance, everything is scheduled and scripted for TV coverage, and the speeches are nothing but rhetoric that preaches to the choir. It’s unlikely that they’re going to sway any undecided voters. This round of conventions also marks a new era of extraordinary security, the cost of which will undoubtedly cause potential host cities to think twice about taking on the burdon. Many Bostonians and New Yorkers simply left town rather than deal with the hassel of security, crowds, and protesters. The city of Boston’s post-convention financial analysis discovered that the dearth of citizens doing their normal spending actually negated the economic bump expected from conventioneers (“J-O-H…N-N-Y…K-E-R-R-Y!”*). Cities will have to begin taking that into consideration as well.

Rather than what’s going on inside Madison Square Garden, I’m watching what’s going on outside. Protestors fascinate me. Some of them I agree with, some I think are nuts. But you’ve got to admire them. They’re the voice of the people, unexpurated. They are the (sometimes not so) quiet revolt. America has turned and evolved throughout its history on the tide of these people. I say (in words GWB no doubt understands), bring…them…on. I want to see the streets clogged with masses who would otherwise be ignored by those who occupy the ivory towers. I want to see people demanding to be noticed. I want the world to know that we don’t all agree with those in power.

A group called Shut it Down! is working to organize a mass strike tomorrow, in protest of the RNC. As they put it on their web site, “Tom DeLay wants to go to the theater. Broadway Shows — SHUT IT DOWN!” Though I doubt they can pull it off, part of me secretly wants to see them succeed.

* most of you will not get this.

Indymedia.org an independent media organization, recently posted a list of delagates attending the RNC, all publicly-available information. Now the Justice Department has prompted the Secret Service to open an invenstigation on the organization. And we used to think that dissenters were hunted down like criminals only in China.

In the spirit of freedom of information, I give you The Money Race. You can plug in your address or zip code and see which of your neighbors have contributed to whom, and how much. You can also see a national map which shows which party the majority of money from your area went to.

Here’s a list of contributors in my neighborhood.

Ok, I got myself all emotional writing that Laura Branigan retrospective, and now I’m listening to Johnny Cash’s final album and trying to keep the tears at bay…

Laura Branigan died on Thursday. She was only 47. She reportedly died in her sleep of a brain aneurysm. Considered by some to be merely a one-hit wonder thanks to her smash hit “Gloria”, the throaty singer actually had a number of hits, including “Solitaire”, “Self Control”, “The Lucky One”, “Ti Amo” and “How am I Supposed to Live Without You”. Despite releasing more albums and singles, Laura was never able to emerge from the shadows of her similarly-voiced contemporaries Kim Carnes and Bonnie Tyler. Today, her legacy is perhaps best felt in the songs of Sophie B. Hawkins and Alannah Myles.

“Gloria” was one of the first two 45s I ever bought, purchased on the same day (a Sunday, at Pamida) as “Come on Eileen” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners. Of the two, “Gloria” spun on the turntable of my parents’ console stereo far more often, until the diamond-tipped needle had sheered off all of the high notes, leaving the sythesized horns strangely muted but Laura’s vocals intact. I still have it. To an 11-year-old on the cusp of a hormone typhoon, Laura’s full, sultry voice was pure lust. That may be partially why she spent so much time in my headphones (the big airline-pilot cans with cracking vinyl, telephone-syle coiled cord, and a jack as thick as your thumb). But why is it then that I felt such a compelling desire to return to Gloria’s story of unfulfilled desire and elusive happiness? Laura Branigan was much more than an appealing voice; she was also a great storyteller.

Laura, you’ll be missed.

The joy you gave me lives on and on
’Cause I know you by heart

You left in autumn
The leaves were turning
I walked down roads of orange and gold
I saw your sweet smile
I heard your laughter
You’re still here beside me every day
’Cause I know you by heart