Other possible subjects were: The Facebook phenomenon and why does its board of directors look like a reunion tour of the Backstreet Boys and their managers? Or: The new sensation of dancing dogs on TV talent shows and how many of them do you think were ever made to ride on the roof of a car? But, no, I think we should go with the conventions. The Republicans are having theirs in Tampa, Fla., in August and then the Democrats will be in Charlotte, N.C., at the beginning of September. The presidential nominees have been chosen, but there’s still a lot to look forward to. The speeches! The funny hats! And, um ... Little-known factoids about the upcoming conventions: • The Democrats have an official barbecue sauce. Actually, three. You can buy them on the official Web site, along with a bunch of T-shirts and a very fetching oven mitt. • The Republican National Convention says that it is expecting 13,000 to 15,000 members of the news media, which would make it “the single largest media event in the world except for the Olympic Games.” The convention should try to use this Olympic theme more extensively, perhaps decking out all the potential vice presidential nominees in Speedos and recounting heartwarming stories involving ailing family members who are rooting for them back home. • The governor of Florida has rejected Tampa’s attempt to ban the carrying of concealed weapons downtown during the Republican convention. I guess this is one way to ratchet up excitement, but I’d prefer Donald Trump nominated for vice president. • You, the taxpayer, are paying the bill. Yes! Back in the 1970s, after a Watergate scandal involving lobbyists who traded huge donations to the Republican convention for special favors from the Nixon administration, Congress passed a law providing federal funding. Indexed for inflation, it’s now about $18 million per. “It’s the one part of the public funding program both parties seem more than happy to accept,” said Anthony Corrado, a professor of government at Colby College and an expert on the financing of political conventions. (Isn’t it reassuring that there are people struggling to get the country worried about presidential nominating convention finances? It reminds me of the year I was in charge of making it fun to read about the New York City Charter Revision Commission.) The parties swear, when they take the cash, that they won’t solicit additional contributions. But in American politics, when there’s a law against raising money you want to raise, the answer is: A) Break the law. B) Find a crazy billionaire. C) Form a committee. Option C wins! The cities that want to be a convention site create committees, which promise to raise copious cash if chosen. The host committee in Charlotte, for instance, is pledged to raise $36.65 million. This is turning into something of a struggle, particularly since the Democrats, in a little-noted reform effort, prohibited the host committee from accepting donations above $100,000, or money from lobbyists or corporations. (The Republicans will pretty much take anything from anybody.) Instantly, like a daffodil in spring, a new committee popped up in Charlotte, called New American City. Its mission is to “showcase all that the city and region has to offer” during the convention and, of course, it has none of those irksome limitations. While they were banning corporate contributions, the Democrats also reduced this year’s convention to three days from the usual four. However, the eliminated day will be turned over to a celebration at the Charlotte Motor Speedway, during which viewers will have the opportunity to note the close ties between the Democratic Party and Nascar dads. And since it is happening before the official opening gavel, it can be paid for by New American City. Do not tell me that this country has lost its capacity for innovation. In a sane world, the conventions could run one day and $18 million would be plenty. They could skip almost everything but the speeches by the candidates, and President Obama will actually leave the convention to make his at Charlotte’s unfortunately-named Bank of America Stadium. Why do they stretch it out? Well, there are a lot of politicians out there yearning for a chance to address an empty auditorium at 2 o’clock in the afternoon. And our public officials have to deal with an endless line of really irritating people who are impossible to make happy. A convention is a mound of favors they can do for their special interests — a party invitation, a seat in the vicinity of Joe Biden, or just the opportunity to mingle on the floor with the South Dakota delegation. (Good hats!) If it wasn’t for the need to treat the monied troops, the Republicans could hold their convention at Mitt Romney’s vacation house. Which I hear is much more pleasant than Tampa in late August.
