‘Ready, Set, Now Be Spontaneous!’
On television it looks like spontaneous bursts of unrestrained enthusiasm.
Hardly.
Turns out the delegates are told - by a cadre of Republican convention floor lieutenants called whips - when to stand and when to sit, when to shout and when to stop.
“I know it seems a little organized,” says one whip, Audrey Scott, a Maryland delegate. “But the effect has been wonderful.”
At a meeting of the delegation, Scott addressed her troops: “My job is, I’m in charge of the spontaneous reactions. And you are doing a great job.”
The “spontaneous reactions” are so precisely timed that the convention schedule allotted three minutes, not a second more, for celebrating when Bob Dole went over the top in Wednesday night’s roll call.
Over in the 15-member Maine delegation, whip Carolyn Murray explained her duties this way: “I lead the clapping and the whooping and the cheering. Basically I am the leader of the pep rally.”
Murray let slide a secret. Pointing to TV cameras in the rafters, she said convention managers keep an eye on every delegation.
“If they think we’re looking sleepy or are not paying attention and need a reminder, they call the communications whip and tell him,” she said. “It’s easy to get distracted. They know if we’re not focusing.”
Italians serve up a celebration for Dole
The Italian mountain town of Castel d’Aioano where Bob Dole was wounded in World War II was cooking up lots of pasta Thursday to celebrate its honorary citizen’s Republican nomination for president.
The party, to include dancing to a Dixieland band and entertainment by majorettes and a military marching band, was scheduled for Friday because residents had another celebration on their agenda Thursday: the national holiday of Ferragosto.
“Today’s celebration is for the country. Tomorrow’s is for Bob Dole,” restaurant owner Pietro Tondi said while cooking up a “ton of pasta” for Friday’s party in this town 25 miles outside of Bologna in north-central Italy.
Dole was injured while serving in the 10th Mountain Division, the U.S. force that cracked the German defenses in northern Italy. His right shoulder was shattered by German machine-gun fire, a wound that cost him the use of his right arm.
Largent drops the ball
Rep. Steve Largent, a former record-setting wide receiver for pro football’s Seattle Seahawks, dropped the ball at the Republican National Convention.
Largent got tied up in traffic and was late arriving at the San Diego Convention Hall Wednesday afternoon for his scheduled talk on family values. The show went on without him.
As the first-term congressman put it Thursday, “I was a little bit late and the convention was a little ahead of schedule and stayed ahead.”
Largent said he was told he could speak on Thursday, but he had previous commitments.
He said his speech was about “moral leadership” from the White House to “our house.”
So, what else is on?
Viewership continued to erode for the Republican National Convention’s third day.
During the 10 p.m. EDT “prime” hour Wednesday, NBC had a 5.2 rating, while ABC scored a 3.6 and CBS notched a 2.5, according to Nielsen Media Research figures.
The total 11.3 rating showed a drop-off of about onequarter million households from Tuesday’s 11.6 rating. Monday night, the three networks got a 12.7 combined rating.
This tune-in was 28 percent below that for the same period of the GOP’s 1992 gathering, and 32 percent below its Wednesday viewership in 1988.
They’re conservative spenders, too
Delegates to the Republican National Convention can take home souvenirs aplenty, including rhinestone elephant earrings, black velvet portraits of George Bush and buttons, buttons, buttons.
But some vendors at the convention hall say they’re barely making it.
Why? Conservatives don’t buy much, the sellers say.
“There’s been a big shift in the Republican Party to the religious right, and they don’t spend money. They’re older and poorer,” said Drew Kuhn of Michigan, who operates a button booth.
Her biggest sellers, she said, were not Bob Dole GOP buttons, but “Buchanan 2000” and “Christians For Dole.” But she said she’s selling only one-eighth of the merchandise she sold at the 1992 gathering in Houston.