Tonight, I tried to find the Courtyard by Marriott, where an “Iowa” party was being held from 9 to 11, and I would have known Super Delegate Richard Machacek through association with Dave (his Republican brother) and Marcy, my old high school classmate. I came home from the Charlize Theron thing and wrote till 5 and only then took a bath, did my hair and took a nap until I woke up, which, unfortunately, was 9 p.m. I dressed quickly and took my blue Mustang convertible with the GPS downtown, trying to find SOMEWHERE to park it. I was told to “try 17th St.” as 16th Street is a pedestrian mall with “light rail.” So, I saw a big sign that said PARKING GARAGE on Stout Street and entered, drove to the 4th floor and parked. I couldn’t figure out how to turn the lights off, which was a problem that took me at least 20 minutes to solve, and I am driving with what appear to be my “brights” on at all times, as I can’t figure out how to get the “brights” down to “normal” brightness, but the GPS is working like a charm! (Otherwise, I’d be lost the entire week.)
Anyway, after all this, it was close to 11 and the Iowa party was only going to last from 9 to 11, they said. As I exited the parking garage, I asked the attendant how to walk to the Iowa hotel, and she said I couldn’t leave my car there past 10 p.m. ! (It was already 11 p.m.!) I went back UP to the 4th floor, drove my car out onto the street and tried to follow some fairly poor directions about a parking lot that was open air. Just then I saw a place on the street, but what street? I parked and found A Marriott, but not the Iowa Marriott.
However, I knew Illinois was in a Marriott downtown, so I went in there and, sure enough, there was an Illinois party going on and it did not end until 2 a.m. I spent the time with 4 pretty young girls, whom I will feature on my blog. They were very nice to let an oldster like me sit with them. One even bought me my (only) drink. I saw Mike Jacobs and asked Callie King (whose father is the Chief of the Denver Fire Department) to go over with me, as she was a pretty young thing (born in 1984) and I figured Mike Jacobs might actually speak to me if I had a pretty young thing with me. We introduced her as “my chauffeur.” He was quite courtly, speaking primarily with Callie, of course, and he didn’t have a clue who I was. Later on in the evening, he was being fairly loud ebullient with his cronies in the lobby (after the party was over) while I was watching a big plasma TV set, but with no sound, because I let a different correspondent go tonight (Tuesday, Hillary’s night) and I will go again tomorrow (Wed.) and then go to Invesco Field the final night (Thursday).
I’m tired, but it’s fun!
Now comes the typical party. I couldn’t find my car and,, no, I was NOT drinking at all. (I had one glass of zinfandel in about 3 hours). I was drinking diet Coke, which was free. I finally hired a “pedi-cab,” driven by a kid from Wisconsin and we pedaled around until we found my blue Mustang convertible. I paid him $10, but it only took about 5 minutes on a bike to go around in circles. I then programmed my GPS without incident and arrived home only to discover that the local police have banned ALL parking on the side of the street that my 2427 W. 32nd triplex is. Luckily, there was one very small spot left across the street where it is still legal, and I managed to squeeze into that, and then realized that I never had dinner. I made a peanut butter sandwich and am waiting for my camera to “charge” and going to bed.
I’m sure glad I kept the car and also very glad I got GPS, although it cost me extra.
I don’t know, for sure, what I’m doing tomorrow besides going to the convention all night. They don’t have a TV set that works here (!) and there is no AC and the bathroom is smaller than Satch’s first bachelor pad and has a tub that is smaller than the one in my downstairs bathtub and an old clawfooted thing, to boot. Still, it is nice to have a kitchen, and I haven’t spent much at all on food, so far.