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• Author: Clinton, Kate
• Position: Watching the Democrats and Republicans at their conventions - Unplugged - Column

One August morning four years ago, as I was rushing out my gate, I was intercepted at the fence by my seventy-two-year-old Portuguese neighbor, Peter, in his mesh cap and belted navy-blue, one-piece yard-work uniform. He huffed to catch up with me.

"Didja hear that fight last night?"

"No. Where was it?"

He indicated with a discreet nod of the head: "next door."

I said, "I have never heard them fight."

"Oh, dahlin', they were goin' at it, calling each other f. . .in' liar, f. . .in' this 'n' that, every name in the book."

"Are you sure? What time?"

"Had to be 10:00, 10:15."

Then it dawned on me. "Oh, Peter! It was us! We were watching the Republican convention, screaming at George Bush during his speech. We had the windows open. Sorry."

He waddled away. "I agree, dahlin'."

This August, the only sounds from our house were muted sighing and clicking, the refrigerator door squeaking open, ice dropping in glasses, and murmurs of, "Let's watch Mystic Pizza instead of Tipper Gore." I don't know why I ever asked my editor for an extension on my August deadline so I could watch the Democratic convention.

But I wanted to see if I could discern any differences between the Republican and the Democratic extravaganzas. Not only are there no real differences--Clinton is beginning to make Nixon look like a liberal--the whole summer is a huge, deadening blur of blockbusters, Olympics, and conventions. They run together like a puddle of food on a plate without dividers. What the heck, I'll throw in the Reform Party convention too, especially after the New Alliance Party and their chanteuse, Lola Folana, joined up.

Both major parties were promoting not so much family values as production values. The Republicans put more gloss on their San Diego trade show than they did on their war in the Persian Gulf. The Democrats layered it on, too, but added the "I Think I Can" train.

All productions involved large video screens of the huge outdoor, drive-in type. It's summer and we're in our jammies watching "The Attack of the Hundred-Foot Politicians." The eight African-American delegates in San Diego were exhausted by the end of their convention because they were on screen the whole time. And the only difference between Republicans and Democrats seems to be that when Republicans are flashed on large screens at conventions, they pretend not to see themselves. When Democrats notice their twenty-foot faces, they poke each other, point to the screen, and mouth, "Hi, Mom!"

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