The national political conventions are a lot like professional wrestling. Sure, we know what’s going to happen, but every four years, it’s fun to see who’s throwing around chairs and getting slammed into the turnbuckle.
Each gathering offers up unique opportunities for mocking and scoffing and taunting purposes. And this Republican meeting on the banks of an eerie lake promises wacky zany antics o’plenty; like a Ringling Bros. Circus tent with all the poles chewed through by termites in the middle of a Nor’easter.
Yours truly is now in the land of Cleve, and I’m enjoying being embedded in the upper Midwest just in time for the Humidity Festival the way a crustacean enjoys boiling water. I also have plans to travel to the delphia of Phil, but for now here a list of indispensable items I’ve taken with me to the first part of this summer sojourn.
Will Durst’s Packing List for the 41st Republican National Convention in Cleveland, Ohio:
White shoes and belt to blend in with the fashion style known as the “Full Cleveland.”
A Trump University alumni ring to flash at security checkpoints.
“Make America Grate Again” hat.
A Cleveland Browns golf towel to wipe away the tears when visiting the Lee Atwater exhibit at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
The secret password to get into the Log Cabin Republicans party, which always has the best appetizers.
An umbrella, because the last two GOP national conventions were shortened a day because of hurricanes. Also, it’s designed to protect from the deluge of partisan splooey that has descended on the 216 area code.
Two packages of Tums to follow up taste tour of local pierogi shops.
A bandanna soaked in eyewash for a walk through the protest pit.
An Anonymous ID to present to authorities when apprehended in the protest pit.
A Guy Fawkes mask.
A couple of Bill Cosby albums for Roger Ailes to play at the Fox News party to help female staffers get “in the mood.”
Two stories of scaffolding and a case of hair spray in the unlikely event of being conscripted to groom The Donald’s hair.
A chauffer’s cap to facilitate commandeering a limo after attending one of the good parties.
A baker’s dozen of Krispy Kreme donuts to assuage the ego of Chris Christie.
Snake bite serum.
A “Six Wives Club” t-shirt with the Donald and the Newt’s pictures on it.
A DVD of “Hoosiers” to get a sense of the Mike Pence experience. Director’s cut.
12 pack of Viagra for Bob Dole to sign.
Sunglasses to protect eyes from the legions of journalists and politicians who overused their white strips.
A hand mirror to occasionally hold up to the personality-challenged Mike Pence’s lips to insure he’s breathing.
A dowsing rod to root out the GOP donors who kept insisting that Jeb Bush was “the smart one.”
A roll of dimes, which, as waitresses all over town will be able to tell you, is the traditional Republican tip.
Portable espresso machine to stash in hotel room in attempt to stay awake.
Copy of the “Kama Sutra” to keep track of Donald Trump’s ever changing positions.
One Golden State Warriors sweatshirt in anticipation of next year’s rubber match.
Will Durst is an award-winning, nationally acclaimed columnist, comedian and former Pizza Hut assistant manager