The Reminder is making its archives back to 2003 available on our website. Please note that, due to technical limitations, archive articles are presented without the usual formatting.
Well, as you have read somewhere, some of the vegetarians and tree-huggers among the 233 Canadian athletes we are sending to the Olympic Games in Athens are protesting. It seems that Greece, in a panic to clean up Athens before the Aug. 13 opening, wants to get rid of all the stray dogs that roam the city. And, because all the homeless-mongrels hostels are full, they are proceeding to poison 15,000 dogs. This brings us back to the scribbler, who decided "stupidly" on a last-minute decision to fly to Beantown which will anoint a guy who, after all, on Nov. 2 may be elected to be the new president of the most and only powerful nation on this powerless globe. All scribblers, you must understand, love mystery and intrigue and suspense. The hanging chads in Florida that elected Dubya Bush while Al Gore got more votes. We all long for the days of yore, such as 1924, when the Democratic convention took 17 days and 103 votes before finally selecting one John W. Davis as its candidate. Now? We all know John Kerry is the nominee and the only story is the goofy hats worn by the lady delegates and the scribes ? who outnumber the delegates 6-1 ? have nothing to do but interview each other. And so, the usually reliable travel agent swears ? understandably considering the short notice ? that there is not a single hotel room in Boston available. Granted. The scribbler will take anything. Take anything is described as the Red Roof Inn in Woburn, described as "just outside" Boston. Woburn, it turns out, is somewhere in north Massachusetts. It has plastic cups. An "inn" usually has a restaurant. The Red Roof Inn has no restaurant. It is $89.99 (U.S) per night. There is a reason. The Red Roof Inn turns out to be a large motel. We are suggested, for breakfast, to find elsewhere a joint called Mexican Grill and Cantino. A Mexican breakfast has never been my taste. See 'Most' P.# Con't from P.# It is like covering a Vancouver convention from Chilliwack. It is like covering a Toronto convention from Wawa. X X X AND ANOTHER THING Beantown, where Paul Revere's 1680 house is the oldest in the territory, is the most-educated joint in North America. There are 64 colleges and universities. There is Harvard of course, the famous MIT ? Massachusetts Institute of Technology ? and Radcliffe, the "female Harvard." X X X And so, the drive from Woburn ? wherever it is, and hopefully will remain there ? into Fortress Boston is an impossible dream. The city, one must realize, is in a panic mode. This is where, from Logan Airport, the nutbar terrorists flew out ? without proper checking ? to down the Twin Towers in Manhattan. Boston, hosting its first presidential convention, is terrified that the world's scribes (i.e. poisoned dogs) will zero in on another historic attack. The highways into the city are closed at 4 p.m. The clouds are cluttered with the buzz of 24-hour choppers ? barring even the shock-jock radio traffic reporters. There is only one solution for the refugee from Woburn. The Fleet Center, home of Teddy Kennedy and Teresa Heinz Kerry, who may yet kill her husband's chances ? "Shove it" to a scribe ? to make it to the White House. The scribbler, in desperation, goes to where everyone in desperation goes, the Yellow Pages. Sheraton? Sold out. Marriott? Westin? Nadda. Fairmont? Forget it. One finds a "boutique" hotel, the Colonnade. Certainly. No probs. Single room. Non-smoking. There is only one problem. The scribbler's press credentials. Is it possible that the world's only power has never heard of the Chronicle Herald in Halifax? The Hamilton Spectator? The Red Deer Express? The Hill Times of Ottawa? Apparently not. The scribbler, who stupidly has not applied for press credentials months earlier as the rules apply, spends one day standing in a line-up for two hours to confront a poor, confused Democrat university volunteer who wouldn't know if he could recognize a typewriter from a computer. A second day spending four hours arguing with nerds who wouldn't know the name of John Edward's wife who ? after their 16-year-old son was killed in a car accident ? gave birth to children at age 48 and 50. Doesn't matter. The boutique hotel turns out to be $299 (U.S.) per sleep. Boasting that it is the only hotel in Beantown that has a rooftop pool. The cabbie tells me that it is a given on such presidential conventions ? the only one Boston has ever had ? that the hotels double their fare. It's no surprise for a dumb late-comer. Turns out there are just 4,350 Democrat delegates. And 15,000 journalists from around the world to cover them. The same number of the dogs poisoned in Athens. It figures.
