There aren’t many shows that I watch on television at the time that they are broadcast anymore.
Five percent of the reason for this is that I am the kind of person who leans into new technologies. I embraced streaming video, navigating its twists and eddys as an intrepid explorer might, until it isn’t just the technology that’s new, but the way I am able to live, work, and communicate. I embrace the future, look it right in the eye while holding its shoulders, then make it a cup of coffee and offer it a scone.
The other ninety five percent is that I have entered a new phase of life akin to hibernation; I am unwilling (read: unable) to stay up past 10PM to watch a tv show at night when I can so easily see it on my phone during next morning’s commute. Yawn. Silly old bear.
But very recently I have indeed been up late watching tv: not action or comedy or drama, but watching people give speeches. A lot of speeches. You might be doing this too. I just can’t help myself…it’s…what’s that phrase? Must See TV. It’s like the Olympics kept going and this is the Oratory event.
Thus I am, without a doubt, a special brand of exhausted, but very much looking forward to a gold medal contest tonight, so I’ll keep this short.
Political conventions are Live Events. Everyone in the hall is electrified, generating excitement for the home viewers as they participate and in many ways create what is going on. It’s a nationwide Panto play, where the crowd is meant to interact with those on stage, gleefully shouting answers to their questions and responding when called upon. And we are there, on that floor, holding up colorful signs and cheering, all through the magic of television. I like it better from home, where there’s a hot meal and no line for the bathroom and I’m wearing unpatching pajamas.
My grandfather actually attended one of these, as a delegate from Kansas City. I am not aware if he was on the line up for the dias, but he was an incredible orator: we even have a book of his speeches that my mother put together. I’ve given quite a few speeches, but at the end of each I looked up to find a sea of warmly agreeable yet undeniably puzzled faces. I am enthusiastic as a speaker, if not quite “inspirational”.
That’s what’s fun about the speeches at political conventions: they are all engineered to lift and motivate us. And it’s fun to “be there”, LIVE, as it’s happening. The only tv shows that everyone wants to watch live anymore are key sporting events and fancy award shows – this seems a perfect combination of both those things.
While the format had long been a staple of radio broadcasts, in 1951 I Love Lucy became the very first television show to be filmed live before a studio audience. Seventy five years later, if you watch that show, it is still effervescent, joyous laughter spilling from the speakers as the action unfolds. Because people were there, in the room, and even though you can’t see them, their electricity adds to what is being recorded, and somehow transmits through time and space along with the performances.
These political parties every four years are fascinating to watch no matter your personal stance, because America is RIGHT THERE, all together, happening right in front of us. We are, each of us, Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy.
Oh, I know, it’s gonna get crazy later, but just look at all of us, standing there, even the Northern Mariana Islands.
Wait a minute, WHO?
Live Studio Audience.