A few months back I was e-mailed an invitation to apply for a credential to attend the 2004 Democratic Convention. Since I haven't actively participated in partisan politics in over a decade, I have to admit the offer didn't intrigue me; I mean, who the hell wants to spend four days in Boston during the summertime. The type of blogger who would get all moist over attending is probably already in the pocket of Terry McAuliffe, so I could hardly see how the party would benefit from my presence. And, convention or no, I'm not that hard up to get laid.

But I guess the real problem I have is the same one any serious journalist would have about attending: its lack of importance. At one time, delegates attending a party convention were prepared to advocate policy and enact a platform, even if they weren't choosing the next President and Vice President. The last time the outcome was in doubt going into the convention was 1980, and now, the festivities are little more than infomercials, ratifying decisions that were made many months earlier. Why go to something I'm not planning on watching in the first place?