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At the DNC: Spike Lee just wants to eat his hot dog

Spike Lee, with relish.
Spike Lee, with relish.

Spike Lee, with relish.

In the few minutes before Bill Clinton spoke at the Democratic National Convention on Wednesday night, I was inching along the perimeter of the floor in the same type of delegate scrum I'd experienced the night before when the Pepsi Center started vomiting celebrities. Suddenly, I was literally bumping into Tim Daly, of Wings and The Sopranos fame, followed by Anne Hathaway (she's tiny) and Ellen Burstyn, who seemed pretty fragile. I hope none of the heftier representatives crushed her.

As soon as Clinton wrapped, I headed up and out of the venue's main bowl, figuring that witnessing Joe Biden trying to follow that act would be a bit like watching U2 fail to measure up to Rage Against the Machine. (I saw this last scenario back in the '90s; it can't be Bono's finest memory.) I miscalculated, of course: Had I stuck around, I would have caught Barack Obama's unannounced appearance live instead of on the tube. Oh well. Hopefully I'll see him today at Invesco Field -- from a really long distance away.

At any rate, I was heading toward the exit when I saw poor Spike Lee trying to put condiments on his hot dog while fending off not one but two camera crews. Being famous anywhere can be a trial -- but being famous in Denver has got to be the drag of a lifetime. -- Michael Roberts


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