Heeding media reports advising attendees of Barack Obama's Invesco Field at Mile High acceptance speech to get an early start, I left Westword's 10th and Broadway offices at around 12:30 p.m. Thursday. On 15th, I asked a DNCC volunteer for the best route to the stadium, and she told me "Larry-mere," which I correctly interpreted as "Larimer" -- and I made great progress until reaching the Auraria campus, at which point I, and everyone else, encountered a line so epic that Homer should have written a poem about it. I dutifully took my place at the end of the queue even though I knew my family was ahead of me somewhere. But after a few minutes of watching bicyclists speed past, I decided to become a scofflaw and trace their path until someone told me to stop -- and no one questioned me until I reached an underpass train crossing. At that point, I realized I had a press credential hidden beneath my shirt, and upon flashing it, the representatives guarding the tracks allowed me to move forward. There were thousands upon thousands who weren't as fortunate, however, and that only added to Obama's challenge. How do you infuse more than 70,000 people with optimism about the future when their recent past has left them feeling justifiably upset. -- Michael Roberts
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