Get to the Barack of the line
How badly do you want to witness history in the making?
Denver was having such a nice convention. We were so efficient, so nice. The traffic detours, the police conduct, the weather -- so much cooperation, so few snags. But the grotesque logjam at Invesco Field, as folks spiral through Disney World-like lines on the unshaded asphalt for two hours or more to get into the damn stadium to hear the damn acceptance speech of this historic candidate, is making us all look like a bunch of boobs.
You can see the true believin' public clutching their hard-won tickets and melting in the heat like gummi bears.Yes, security has to be tight, and we were warned to expect delays. But just whose bright idea was it to close all the entrances to Invesco save one, fail to put up any signage whatsoever, have a bunch of know-nothing volunteers and terse cops man the gates, and let 'em eat asphalt? The grim marathon awaiting the average joe who comes to Invesco, absent some special pass (not that the media types could figure out a way through the logjam, either -- we're talking about you, Rick Reilly, texting John Hickenlooper, who doesn't seem to have any answers, either) is really getting his tolerance for Democratic clusterfucks truly tested right now. And delegates don't seem to be faring much better, their pressed suits wilting in the still-hot sun.
Fortunately, Angel's bar, at 1630 Federal Boulevard, has an excellent view of empty gate 10 -- the gate where the media is supposed to check in, but cannot get to, because cops keep sending you to the single line -- and besides, everything is fenced off.. Still, if you can tell us how to get to gate 10 (the city's Joint Information Center suggests Colfax, but we think they just want us to jump off the Colfax Viaduct), we'll buy you a beer at Angel's. -- Alan Prendergast and Patricia Calhoun
Get the This Week's Top Stories Newsletter
Every week we collect the latest news, music and arts stories — along with film and food reviews and the best things to do this week — so that you'll never miss Westword's biggest stories.