Conventional problems

I'm trying -- honestly trying -- to watch the Republican National Convention on television without falling asleep or hanging myself, but I admit it's really difficult. \nIt's not the politics driving me crazy; the Democratic Convention in Boston was equally grueling and annoying, but I didn't watch it on television. I only managed to make it through, I think, because I was there, on the ground with a reporter's notebook. The first week of classes has delegated me to my apartment's sofa for the Grand Old Party's get-down in New York. \nAnd now, after watching a few days of coverage, I feel the need to come clean: I have spent much of my livelihood this year, following, covering and tracking the election, with trips to the Iowa caucuses and countless hours with C-SPAN on in the background as I work, and I have no qualms admitting that political conventions are among the most painfully boring events on television.\nIronic enough, the conventions are events which don't translate well for mass consumption. To be honest, conventions are much different, and at their most interesting, when you're actually there. I had a lot fun in Boston. But watching a convention on TV is like going to class on Monday morning and hearing about an awesome party over the weekend, one which I wasn't invited to, from some jabber-head sitting next to me.\nIt was so cool, he says. It was so wild, he says. You had to be there, he says.\nConventions tend to be exciting only for the people directly involved: the politicians, who never tire of hearing themselves speak; the delegates, whose primary job is to find time between wearing stupid hats and attending free parties to figure out how to get from the convention center to their lavish hotels and then back again; the media, who get to travel all expenses paid even if it means they have to cover a non-story story; and anyone else who can get free food or liquor out of the experience.\nFor everyone else (the vast majority of America, to be exact), political conventions are like the aforementioned weekend party you weren't invited to. It's hard to explain how boring the whole thing is and how much you don't care. \nThis also explains why host cities always hate the convention.\nFortunately, there are still a few things left that could make the conventions a little more interesting. \nFirst we could cut down on how long they last. Five days is too long; I say give each party three days, one day for media preparations, one for the vice presidential nominee and one for the presidential nominee. They can flesh out of the rest of the time with their party's best speakers, and hopefully they won't be tempted to give each day a "theme," which will promptly be forgotten by everyone at the first sight of an open bar.\nThe second thing is recognizing conventions have changed for the worst, while the coverage has changed for the better. \nConventions used to be hot-spots for drama, when they actually played a pivotal role in the democratic process. They were created to nominate candidates, but there hasn't been a second nominating ballot or a nomination battle at an American convention in 50 years. \nNow they're five-day-long staged commercials with few surprises and completely subsidized by the news. (Speaking of the news, why would we watch the convention in real time when you can simply click onto any major newspaper's Web site and watch the highlights in 15 minutes?)\nSure, if I had the chance I'd go and report on any convention in any city during any year. Like I said, it's fun to be there. \nBut conventions have only one plausible purpose nowadays, and that's to preach to the choir. \nThe people they actually want and need to listen -- the voters at home, who are their congregation so to speak -- are either not tuning in, falling asleep or looking for ways to hang themselves.