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New York delegates want a seat at the convention

Dan Janison | dan.janison@newsday.com

August 27, 2008

DENVER

One of the delegates here noted that in the old days, they'd trade their votes in the convention hall and conduct screaming fights and cut deals over platform planks. Now they do something vaguely described as networking.

Because the nominee and his health-care policy were settled before anyone showed up, and because we are a nation of spectators, the currency of the day becomes the good seat in the big hall.

"Basically, all political conventions are four-day telethons for narcissism," quipped Rep. Steve Israel (D-Huntington), who's been one of the traffickers. "We're talking about many hyperinflated egos wedged into confined spaces. I'm spending most of my time as a walking ticket master trying to get floor credentials for people who don't like where they're sitting."

As delegates and "guests" filled a second-floor area at the Sheraton to pick up passes, you saw so many of the usual people from the usual political spheres of Long Island, New York City and Albany that you wondered aloud why they even bothered coming 1,600 miles. Even a party operative or two wondered the same thing.

There was, of course, the Hillary Rodham Clinton speech. There's that historic attraction: the first nomination of an African-American presidential candidate - which every single person in the New York contingent undoubtedly wants to be in a good position to see today. But you also got the sense that, especially with the BlackBerry and the cell phone, they'd just exported themselves physically onto a faraway stage.

Why show up? "It's the political version of the All-Star Game," said Jon Kaiman, the North Hempstead supervisor. "You walk into an elevator and there are governors, senators, Teamsters, local officials, all in the same place. It's kind of what we do."

Not that Kaiman at that moment was expanding his circle. Nearby, moments earlier, stood Nassau County Executive Thomas Suozzi, county chairman Jay Jacobs and Comptroller Howard Weitzman, eating and mixing and speaking of matters beyond their borders.

Others said that election-year schmoozing gains special intensity when you're in hotel-and-bar-land. State Sen. Craig Johnson (D-Port Washington), engaged in a hot re-election race, said he's lined up meetings with certain prominent individuals. Sounded like potential contributors.

State Comptroller Tom DiNapoli is one of those lifelong political junkies, and he's been to the 1988, 2000 and 2004 conventions. When one killjoy noted that all three of those nominees lost, he quickly replied: "Fourth time's a charm."

And, of course, there are the business and labor people who analyze and genuinely appreciate the historical significance. Cordial relations with elected officials are not so bad for them, either. Developers and utilities had employees in the house for Clinton's speech and others.

"Obama is the John Kennedy for my kids," said Jay Kriegel, longtime party activist and fundraiser.

Why show? "To be part of history," said former Suffolk County executive and lobbyist Patrick Halpin. "This is my sixth presidential convention. ... It's the whole Democratic community in one place."

Coming from Clinton's home state, with the biggest share of them elected as Clinton delegates last February, the delegates and special guests alike stuck hard to the day's message.

They said she'd make a magnanimous gesture and the delegates would be Obama's. If Obama loses, go the lines, it's McCain, so we must be loyal and committed Democrats, or we get McCain, which is four more years of Bush.

For the moment, the New York crew seemed to be on the same page - at least for as long as they had seats.