Power is in positive conventional thinking

Wednesday, March 24, 2004

Why is anyone shocked that Republican Gov. Mitt Romney [related, bio] is trying to throw a wrench into the upcoming Democratic National Convention by questioning whether it should be at the FleetCenter?

Rep. Michael Capuano has angrily said Romney ``wants to make the convention worse for the Democratic Party and the nominee.''

Well, yeah. Romney - unlike his predecessors, it seems - takes politics seriously. There's none of this ``one big happy family'' stuff from Mitt. He's already upset state Democrats by having the gall to fund challengers to incumbent reps and senators. Now he is doing all he can to help the fortunes of a Republican president.

Still, there's more at play here than a bit of political mischief or some newfound partisanship. Romney's elbows feel sharper because of a gnawing fear: He might be right. Sure, we - or let's give credit here: Mayor Thomas Menino - persuaded Democratic National Committee Chairman Terry McAuliffe to have the convention in Boston. But we're damn certain we're going to screw it up.

This is a uniquely Boston phenomenon. Since the mid-1800s, lots of cities have hosted political conventions. In almost all cases, they've done fine, approaching the task with a determination to make it work. Not so in Boston.

Since the beginning of the year, there have been hundreds of news stories about the upcoming convention. Most of them have been negative. City unions, for example, are threatening to picket the convention. Transportation planners think they might have to close I-93. The MBTA may close nearby stations. The workspace for journalists is too cramped. Security will be nightmarish. Boston hasn't been able to raise the $40 million it needs. The city's host committee is poorly staffed and wasting its money. Streets will gridlock. The police department might not be up to the task. There are turf battles between city folks and DNC folks. Boston will look a mess, with the ugly, rusting central artery still standing and debris everywhere.

The litany of horribles is never-ending and each one, we believe, will make the event a disaster.

Meanwhile, New York City is hosting the Republican National Convention and hardly anyone seems to care. Some have voiced concerns about security, but they appear resolved. There was brief anxiety that, like Boston, that city might not raise enough, but billionaire Mayor Michael Bloomberg made it clear he'd step up to the plate if needed.

In fact, I looked at local press coverage for a number of past conventions, and the same is true of other cities as well. Los Angeles hosted the Democratic National Convention four years ago. There was some squabbling, a last-minute shuffling of staff and a worry that the city might not duplicate the success it had with the 1984 Olympics, but no one panicked. The 1996 Democratic convention in Chicago was a breeze. There was a tussle over control (not surprisingly, Mayor Richard Daley won), but no one ever feared the city couldn't pull it off.

Of course, you may say, New York, Los Angeles and Chicago are all large cities, each home to millions of people. Given their sizes, political conventions just don't amount to much. That's true. Indeed, the Democratic convention in Chicago ranked 10th - 10th! - on the list of that year's events (three times as many people showed up for the International Manufacturing Technology Show).

Yet even smaller, Boston-sized cities have handled their conventions with aplomb. Philadelphia hosted the Republicans in 2000, San Diego had them in 1996 and Atlanta went all out for the Democrats in 1988. They all succeeded. Most news stories leading up to the conventions were positive, extolling the benefits of the event to the city's image or its businesses. Naysayers were few. Instead, there seemed a calm-headed effort in each city to pull together, handle the problems that arose and show visitors a good time.

So what's our problem? It may be we are simply hypercritical. On the road to the Boston convention, every bump is a chasm, every bend leads to a cliff and our car is always about to run out of gas. It's part of our deep-seated inferiority complex, the one where we always worry we're not ``world class'' and secretly know ``Hub of the Universe'' is intended as sarcasm.

Or perhaps there is some truth to it. Maybe, unlike every other city in America, we aren't up to the task. We're a city of almost 600,000 that's been around for 374 years, but a four-day event with 35,000 is just too much of a challenge.

I suspect we'll manage, though. Inevitably, there will be stories about congestion and demonstrations and the like. But the TV cameras will spend most of their time inside the hall. We may think we're failures. To the rest of America, however, we'll appear to be doing just fine.

Talk back to Tom Keane at tomkeane@tomkeane.com.