Posted on | August 27, 2012 | 30 Comments
You don’t want to hear about my wasted morning — the attempt to drive downtown to the Sheraton to pick up my media credentials, the godawful gridlock caused by the lunatic security, being turned around at the barricaded intersection, forced to drive back to Ybor City, pay to park the car, call a cab to take me downtown again, then discovering that my credentials were in the possession of Jim Antle who, contrary to our previous discussion about the topic, was not downtown to meet me.
Getting a cab out of the security perimeter was obviously impossible.
You don’t want to hear about my mile-long walk back to Ybor City, in a muggy sweat-soaked heat, to retrieve the car, then drive here to this McDonald’s, logging on to get directions to where Jim Antle is staying, and discovering that it’s 10 miles south of here.
Exactly why the Republican National Convention set things up this way, with one person from each news organization designated to pick up that organization’s credentials — rather than the more obvious way of having each reporter pick up his own — defies my ability to imagine or describe.
Exactly why The American Spectator‘s designated credential obtainer, Jim Antle, having made it inside the high-security perimeter around downtown Tampa would have then left to return to his lodgings 10 miles south of downtown — this, too, defies my ability to imagine or describe.
This is probably no one’s fault in particular. There are times when it seems as if the universe is organized as a sadistic conspiracy to inflict psychological punishment on me, to make my life an endless series of hassles and humiliations, to render excruciatingly difficult my attempts to earn a living as a journalist.
Life within this sadistic universe — really, could so many things go so completely wrong by coincidence? — might be pleasant for masochists, who enjoy suffering. But I lack that perverse appetite for punishment, and so am compelled to complain about the routine abuse that I seem unable to avoid, no matter how much I try.