Guided to web coolness — as I so often am — by Michelle Nicolosi’s Google Reader, I just made my first Wordle word cloud based on thenightnote. It is a cool word usage graphic based on the nightnote home page. Click the image to see it full-sized.

Be sure to check out the thing that made me experiment with Wordle in the first place — the Wired article that Michelle was pointing to in her reader — The Democratic And Republican National Convention Speeches, As Seen Through Wordle. Sweet visualization.

The Daily Show gives us a whiff of Republican hypocrisy. Stinky/funny/sad.

Sigh. From Time:

[Former Wassilla Mayor John] Stein says that as mayor, Palin continued to inject religious beliefs into her policy at times. “She asked the library how she could go about banning books,” he says, because some voters thought they had inappropriate language in them. “The librarian was aghast.” That woman, Mary Ellen Baker, couldn’t be reached for comment, but news reports from the time show that Palin had threatened to fire Baker for not giving “full support” to the mayor. Read more.

More Palin watch:
• NYT: Account of a Bridge’s Death Slightly Exaggerated
• Palin video: Iraq a “task from God,” natural gas pipline “God’s Will”

A slideshow of pix from my trip to Denver and the DNC: See it here. Above: As close as the uncredentialed (that’s me) could get to the Pepsi Center.

Just got a call through to my mom and we were able to talk for about 30 seconds before the connex dropped. She said high scary winds had been going on for several hours, but that she has no damage to the house. I’ve been watching the radar since 6 am pacific — and Tammany really got dumped on as an interior feeder band rolled over it for hours. But in our brief conversation mom said she was okay, but with no power. Her bad cold is her worst problem right now.

• WWL-TV Radar
• WWL-TV live video
• Times-Picayune Hurricane Coverage
• Times-Picayune Abita forum
• St. Tammany Parish government
• National Hurricane Center
• Big resource list from JefTek [thanks nik]

But I’m safe at home despite the best efforts of yay-hoos between Vegas and LBC.

A: Bryce Canyon National Park.

My little hotel is right on the Green River. I have a balcony up in the trees. Here is a pix of sunset on the river. What it doesn’t show are the dozens of tiny swallow-shaped birds hunting the dusk-feeding insects over the water. Very pretty, very peaceful after a long day of jockeying with yay-hoos.

Starting work on a convention wrap — but kind of tired, so don’t know when I’ll post. For now, a Bohemia and some reading about McCain’s creationist, anti-abortion, executive-power-abusing, WTF veep pick.

I’ve always been a big union booster, but you can keep Labor Day. That’s the holiday when any yay-hoo with a truck hitches a trailer-load of ATVs to it and drives through the Rockies like it’s a freakin’ NASCAR event — the Idiotapolis 300.

I’m going to pull into the pits at Green River, UT — about 2.5 hours from Glenwood Springs where I’m blogging to you from a burger joint while I let my old fashioned malted melt enough to be sucked through a straw. Had to get some ice cream to cool off, before I put one of those Labor Day Andrettis into the wall.

Below: Oh look, the Colorado River! And my current loc.

PS hot as hades here in Hellwood Springs.

Leaving lovely Denver now, headed west and home. This little visit to history has been fun, but I’m so tired! It will be a short driving day today, just a hop over the Rockies to Grand Junction, but of course, I’m already running a little late. So off I go … more from the open road to come.

That speech was really incredible. Plus, how do you like the color coordination of the Obama family wardrobe. Nice. Too busy gushing to gush.

Last night, when the Dems first string speechifiers were on stage, I was being treated to a fine birthday meal at the urban-swank Vesta Dipping Grill (thank you super-host Andrew). So this morning, I broke out the laptop to watch John and Joe and, of course, Bill, do their thing. It was a good start to the day to hear my party’s positions put forth with articulate vigor.

John Kerry gave a good speech, one he wrote himself [TPM], making an eloquent comparison of Senator McCain and Candidate McCain. And there was his rightful indignation. He wore it well. My favorite quote:

Never in modern history has an administration squandered American power so recklessly. Never has strategy been so replaced by ideology. Never has extremism so crowded out common sense and fundamental American values. Never has short-term partisan politics so depleted the strength of America’s bipartisan foreign policy.

And the old yellow dog dem in me — the one that’s voted democrat in every election for 30 years, couldn’t help but like Joe Biden. His son, Beau, off to the Iraq war any minute, gave him great intro. (Andrew reminded me that Mitt Romney’s kids were serving America by campaigning for their dad.) And Biden’s whole story came off as warm and authentic and wise.

But, Bill. Well you cannot stay mad at Bill. When he starts with that, “Oh Baby, you know how I am …” You just want him to keep talking. His smart ease slays you. You want to scold him for his campaign hijinks, but it comes out, “Oh, Mr. President, you can lead my free world … just keep talking.” “People the world over have always been more impressed by the power of our example than by the example of our power.” Lip bite. Finger point. That’s right, Mr. President, go on.

Look at the example the Republicans have set: American workers have given us consistently rising productivity. They’ve worked harder and produced more. What did they get in return? Declining wages, less than ¼ as many new jobs as in the previous eight years, smaller health care and pension benefits, rising poverty and the biggest increase in income inequality since the 1920s. American families by the millions are struggling with soaring health care costs and declining coverage. … Are these the family values the Republicans are so proud of? What about the military families pushed to the breaking point by unprecedented multiple deployments? What about the assault on science and the defense of torture? What about the war on unions and the unlimited favors for the well connected? What about Katrina and cronyism? America can do better than that. And Barack Obama will.”

Yes. Mr.President. Yes.

Later, I headed downtown on a bus crowded with people going to the big speech at Mile High. Everyone on the street was talking about the speech. I hooked up with Andrew who gave me a tour of the Denver Post newsroom (great views, hot flat screen displays, graphics dept. right in the newsroom) and we went off to lunch. We went down to see if we could eat at the Ships Tavern in the Brown Palace Hotel, where Barack and Hillary are staying. When we rounded the corner, there was a large group of people around the hotel watching a side door. “Doesn’t look good for the Tavern,” I told Andrew. As we walked through the crowd, we heard several people say that they didn’t know what they were waiting for. Andrew went to check with the doorman. Secret Service told him no one could enter the hotel now. So we were discussing alternate destinations — maybe we should wait too — when we saw the confused wait-ers turn their heads as one. And out of the side door came Hillary, resplendent in her cream pantsuit. She walked past the big SUV/Limo and right to the crowd that cooed, sighed with delight, extended their hands. There was the snap of excitement. “Thank you Hillary,” someone shouted. Every cell phone camera was working. Andrew got onto a newspaper box and took some pix with my camera, but Hillary was moving quickly down the line. A young woman came from the front of the pack, speed dialed someone on her cell and then said, tearing up, “Hillary Clinton just shook my hand and I’m going to cry. I’m crying. Hillary just shook my hand.”

Then Hills hopped in her ride and left the waving crowd looking as delighted as if they had crossed paths with a unicorn. They giggled with one another. Did that just happen? Then they started to reassemble themselves for another round of waiting for someone. Maybe Barack would be next.

But Andrew had to have lunch and get back to work, so we headed back to the main drag, the 16th promanade. On the way, I thought I saw House Majority Whip Rep. Jim Clyburn walking toward me, all by himself. He made such a great speech yesterday, but it was buried deep in the daytime session and there’s not even video of it on the web … I wanted to tell him I saw it and how good it was and how he should gget video of it up on his website. “Mr. Clyburn?” I asked as I extended my hand. “Willie Brown,” said the man who’s hand was already in mine. He was smiling. I was embarassed. “Well, it’s a great pleasure to meet you,” I said. Doh. It really was a pleasure. He’s a famous outspoken California pol and it would be fun to shake his hand any day. But I sounded so stupid. Ick! He laughed it off and went on his way. Me too. We walked on to the restaurant. I got got a big plate of pot stickers for lunch to remove the flavor of foot from my mouth. Mmm … plenty of ginger.

Now, I am back at Andrews listening to Al Gore give a really good speech at Mile High. Got to pay better attention. More soon!

The HFJ are out in force in downtown Denver — their message: perverts will burn and you’re all perverts. So typical that I almost didn’t notice this group, despite their bullhorn. But there was this kid calling them out for their hateful ways, quoting scripture right back in their red faces, all the while juggling three little leather balls. “Surrender!” screams the HFJ designated screamer. “Hey, I am a Christian by choice,” says the little juggler. Bullhorn: “There is no choice. You are a sinner who must surrender your life to the will of Almighty god.” Juggler: “Hey, free will is an important Biblical concept.” Kate: “Go, little juggler!” Laughs. Guy next to bullhorn: “Why do you perverts always hang around us?” More laughs. If only they knew I was a California wedding deputy … But barrel-fishing can be a bore and the kid’s got it well in hand, so I keep my identity to myself and with a wave to the little juggler, I move on down the street.

Walked all over downtown Denver this am — and tho there are lots of people on the street — things are quiet — sleepy even. I grab a spot on a shady bench near one of the convention bus stops to blog to you and watch the world go by.

On one corner a guy hawks Obama shoeshines. “World’s only Obama shines!”

Six raggedy-looking PUMAS walk down the street chanting “Hillary, Hillary!” They’re followed by a fistful of McCain people calling “He’s not ready!” The guy sitting next to me on the bench is wearing a live snake for a necklace. He watches the puny protests, impassive. Three middle-aged couples roar by on Harleys waving McCain signs and screaming at the top of their lungs. “AAAARR!” Belching exhaust, they literally stink. Snake guy moves on.

Earlier, a knot of gawkers formed around a cafe where Annette Benning was having coffee for a cause. I was too short to see and not interested enough to muscle my way in. Nicolosi would have got that shot.

I was interviewed by high school students working on a project. They asked me what I thought of George Bush. “Worst president ever,” I say. “Ever?! Wow!” says my interviewer, underlining it in her notebook. “Yup,” I say, “read your history.” They ask me what I like about Obama. “He’s smart,” I say. She nods, serious. More questions: Will it matter that he’s black? What’s the most important issue? Why are you a Democrat? When we finished, they thank me for taking the time to talk. “Stay smart,” I tell them. “We will,” they say in unison — like at a pep rally.

An old guy wants to talk to me about overpopulation. I tell him, “you’re preaching to the choir … I’m all about the ZPG.” He gives me the thumbs-up and walks on.

Up the street, a grayboy leafleteer-coordinator monopolizes his hot-girl vol. He’s passionate about the cause. He’s talking fast. Looking into her big sleepy eyes. 300 people walk by while he talks at her.. She doesn’t hand out a single flyer.

Down the pedestrian mall, a Barack look-alike sells Salsa dance lessons and when two girls dressed as streetwalkers join in on the demonstration, a TV crew stops to shoot. K-pix later.

Lots of smokers on the street. Lots of cameras. Lots of cellphones. Lunchtime, lots more credentialed people milling around.

Time to walk again. Below: Me ready for the day. And sad PUMAS.

Oh, I’m still a Dem, I just can’t party anymore. I guess Andrew and I put away a bottle plus of wine pretty fast last night, carelessly, in the rush of talk about politics, protest, art, business, workouts, religion, sweethearts and the future of newspapers. A little after midnight — not feeling particularly sloshed — I fell happily asleep in the pleasant room Andrew had prepared so nicely for me. The cool Denver night came in through the open window and I had a great feeling of momentum, the drive had been beautiful — though 13 hours long — and I was looking forward to going downtown in the morning.

But at about 5am I woke up in a sweat and knew immediately that I had screwed up bigtime. A hangover! A big one too, 7.5 on the doof scale (where 10 is when you beg to be put out of your misery and you mean it). And that was that, I was up and paying the price and by 5:30, my host was up too — actually being cheerful and offering help.

Poor Andrew! He was expecting a guest, not a patient or a fraternity pledge. How embarrassing. But Andrew and I go a long way back now and he has pretty much seen it all. Gracious as always, he wasn’t cross with me. He set me up with house keys, a transportation map and Denver info and went off to work today saying he would meet me anytime for coffee or lunch downtown. A lovely idea, but not possible. There were aftershocks all day long.

About an hour ago, the thing started to let go of me and I got up and made the bed, took care of the ice chest, set myself up to watch the convention on msnbc.com, sat quietly in Andrew’s serene apartment. I got my nerve up and tried a little of the cut watermelon Val sent with me and I’m actually feeling half human. Tonight, I’m pretty sure I will be together enough to take Andrew out for a nice dinner.

Andrew seemed in the pink this morning, doing his workout, going to the office. I guess I was pushing it — the long drive, the altitude, the last days of being 47 — these things add up. Well, I’m paying attention now.

Tomorrow I’m 48 and I’ll be sending some news from downtown Denver. Today, a nap might be in order.

I am safe at Andrew’s very nice Denver digs … Where I’ve been fêted in wonderful style … The widow, yummy crabcakes, outrageous desserts (pictured here) … And the premier showing of Andrew’s civil unrest video shot from the D Post’s roof today. A perfect beginning to my DNC … But for now, gotta get some sleep. More soon …

Greetings from Green River UT … Tanked up ($4.19/gal) … Blogged up (another gas station in the desert, another perfectly good Internet connex) … Got to fly … Rockies still between me & the dnc ( and Andrew & the veuve) …

SOME REST STOP IN UTAH — Utah is so majestic that it is hard to keep my eyes on the road! I’m running parallel to some kind of weather line that’s keeping me cool in the shade. Here’s a cloud pix. Got to make time now — blog ya l8tr …

Around 6 pm, I started to feel like quitting the blast furnace, so I asked the phone for motels in St. George, UT and in a few secs I was talking to the good folks at the Best Western. They had this nice snug room with high ceilings — it is clean, comfy and COOLED. Includes all the mod cons — but its wifi seems slower than the iPhone’s 3G. Had a great dinner of Indian food packed by Val (Sorry Applebees, but I had to go for the Aloo Gobi.) A cold Bohemia and a warm shower should make for an early bedtime. The phone tells me I have 632 miles to drive tomorrow, 9 hours 12 minutes. Big day.

PS: It is 9:45 now and 93 degrees in St. Geo.

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