It was the night of Kerry's speech at the Democratic National Convention. I had decided to volunteer at the Kerry office in Center City for a few hours earlier in the evening. I was told volunteers would only be needed until 8 p.m., so I figured I'd be home in time to adjust my TV's antennae to get halfway-decent reception for the speech. (Hey, cable's expensive.) Once I arrived at the office, I realized things were going to be a bit different than expected. Instead of stuffing envelopes, we volunteers were being shipped off to "Convention Parties" as campaign representatives. You know, because we were so qualified. I looked down at my Converse shoes, T-shirt and jeans and pictured myself at some swanky Rittenhouse gathering. This would go over well.
I didn't worry for long. As one of the two volunteers who was 21 or over, I was sent to different sort of party. I was going to the "Kegger for Kerry" at 4040 Walnut St.
Yep, the Kegger for Kerry. Listed on the campaign's website and everything.
As many of you know, 4040 Walnut is the home of Pi Kappa Phi. Even though I was dressed appropriately for the kegger, I was still anxious. Yeah, I've been to a few frat parties, but I never quite found my niche in Penn's Greek system.
All right, let's be honest. I don't understand Greek life. Sure, I've known plenty of fine people who are in frats or sororities, but I just can't understand why these people join a club to have friends. And why the hell were these people having a Kegger for Kerry? I mean, were they even going to have the DNC on? Or was I just going to spot keg stands and hope that no roofies found their way into my drink?
Once I arrived at Pi Kap, I was greeted by a dude who was probably still recovering from last night's party, never mind the one that was supposedly about to happen. "Um, I'm from the Kerry office," I said slowly. "They sent me here as a rep for your party."
"Oh! I didn't realize it was gonna be like, so official!" he said. I looked at the John Kerry for President button pinned haphazardly to my T-shirt. Official, indeed.
I was surprised to see that the DNC actually was on. The house's big screen TV was tuned to C-SPAN. At one point, during Rep. Nancy Pelosi's speech, a guy pulled out his cell phone. "Hey, Mom? Yeah, I'm watching Nancy Pelosi right now. I just wanted to make sure you and Dad were watching. Oh ... yeah, I'm um, at a friend's house, and there are some people over." He turned away to drown out the cheers from the Beirut table in the next room.
As more and more people filled the living room, I circulated the e-mail sheets from the campaign around so people could sign up. As people wrote down their addresses, we talked about how cool it was that the Kerry campaign cared enough to send a representative (albeit an inexperienced one) to a party that was sure to bring in no monetary support. I talked up the volunteering aspect. After all, as a volunteer, I was getting free beer (Coors Light, but free beer nonetheless) and the chance to watch the convention on a big screen TV instead of my fuzzy 19-inch.
By the time Kerry's speech started, the room was full. We all cheered as Sen. Kerry bounded onto the stage. The Kegger for Kerry group wasn't quite as rowdy as the delegates at the Fleet Center, but we did break into applause at multiple points in the speech.
There was one line that got more attention than any other. When Kerry pledged, "I will be a commander in chief who will never mislead us into war," the entire room erupted. "Woot! Woot!" the guys next to me howled. Beer cups were raised. I think the people playing Beirut might have even stopped to see what all the noise was about.
I left the Kegger for Kerry excited that even frat boys are interested in what Kerry has to say. Maybe I let my preconceived notions of beer-guzzling ass-grabbers get the best of me. Maybe Bush has gone so far that even those nestled safely in an Ivy League frat house have decided it's time for change. It's probably a lot of both.
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