Went to see George Galloway last night at a church up on Willshire. It was an enormous church, and the place was packed. Hundreds and hundreds of people. Galloway was superb. He talked for over an hour (without notes) about the current international situation, and was by turns hilarious, heartbreaking, and rousing. Unfortunately, he was bookended by some stuff that wasn’t so much fun.
Doors opened at 6:00 and he was supposed to go on (I thought) at 7:00. I ordered a ticket online. I wasn’t sure how long it would take to battle my way up Vermont, so I left around 5:00 p.m. (having earlier retrieved my car from the parking center to go grocery shopping). Vermont at rush hour was hell. As far as I can tell, there are no green arrow left turn signals anywhere in Los Angeles. Since traffic flow is continuous, if you want to turn left you have to pull into the middle of an intersection, wait for the light to turn red, then quickly go before the stopped cross traffic can start moving. This means that about two cars can turn left per green light, so if you’re the eighth car in line, as I was, you’re going to be there a while.
Finally I found parking, but it was still only about 5:30 p.m. I was one of the first people there. I got in the line for preordered tickets and gave the guy my name. He couldn’t find me on the list. He went off to consult higher powers. The line froze behind me and started to swell. Nothing happened. Finally the guy came back and told me to stand aside, then he disappeared again. Much later he came back and asked, “Did you order your ticket recently?” I said, “This morning.” He said, “That explains it,” in a tone like I had done something wrong. His list of names had been printed out last night, so I wasn’t on it. But he swore that the updated list was on its way. I had to wait longer. I thought this was silly. Couldn’t they just take my word for it that I’d paid? Did they imagine I was some super-spy who somehow knew that their name list would be incomplete and was trying to bluff his way past the desk to avoid paying $13? Finally they let me past.
At that point, the church was still practically deserted, so I got a front row seat. Then I waited. And waited. Did some more waiting. Around 7:00 p.m., they made an announcement that due to the bad traffic they were delaying the start of the program until 7:30. More waiting. By then I was really ready for some hot Galloway action and then a quick exit. But first there were four opening acts, who each spoke for about twenty minutes. They weren’t bad, but the delay was maddening. By the time Galloway actually appeared on stage, it had been almost four hours since I left my apartment. Anyway, Galloway, like I said, was great. (He had better be, after that wait.)
But then would come the dreaded Q&A session. One guy, a Native American activist, couldn’t wait, and started addressing the crowd while Galloway was still talking. Security came over and encouraged him to sit down. Galloway kept saying, “Peace be with you, brother.” Finally the guy sat down. Galloway offered to answer four questions, but the first six people he called on (including the Native American guy; don’t ask me why he called on him) came up to the lectern to deliver long, incoherent diatribes instead of asking questions, so Galloway kept calling on people, desperate for someone who would actually ask a question. Finally he got a couple sort-of questions, tied them together into a closing statement, and called it a day.
Today I wrote an essay about Gladiator for class, attended the first meeting of the newly-formed USC Literary Association, and went over to the bookstore to buy a USC T-shirt. I picked one out, and was holding it up in front of me before the mirror when a random girl walked by and exclaimed, “Looks good!” So I bought it. Obviously.
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