Note: Shadow Convention websites: http://www.drugpolicy.org/
http://www.shadowconventions.com/

DEFYING CONVENTIONS

For those who'd like a little straight talk from the speakers at a national
political convention, good luck. It's been ages since anybody shot from the
hip at one of these things. There hasn't been a truly stirring speech from
a party nominee since George McGovern did his impassioned "from the
mountain to the prairie" riff in 1972, and look what happened to him. He
got 17 electoral votes to Richard Nixon's 520.

You could spend endless days and endless nights at one of these
entertainment-impaired parties, waiting for a single speaker to light your
fire. You could sit through something as somniferous as Gov. Bill Clinton's
1988 address prior to Michael Dukakis' nomination, which droned on like an
Ingmar Bergman double feature.

The saving grace of the '90s came when Elizabeth Dole decided to work the
house with a hand-held microphone, transforming before our very eyes from a
respectable candidate's spouse into Leeza Gibbons. It was candid and
unexpected, a couple of unconventional qualities at conventions.

Perhaps that's why we're beginning to hear more and more about these
"shadow conventions" that will run concurrently with the genuine articles
coming up in Philadelphia and Los Angeles. We're starving for a little pizazz.

We all know the chosen candidates won't go within a 10-foot pole or a
10-point poll of America's most unpleasant subjects, so the alternative
shadow conventions will endeavor to pick up the slack.

John McCain can be blunt about campaign finance reform and Jack Kemp candid
about poverty in ways unwelcome at the actual Republican convention. Gary
Johnson, the GOP governor of New Mexico, can clarify his views on the
legalization of drugs without making George W. Bush's people turn purple.

Jesse Jackson can wrestle with racial issues at L.A.'s shadow convention
with no holds barred. Warren Beatty will say what's on his mind and Arianna
Huffington what's on hers, while Bill Maher and Harry Shearer vie for the
right to be the modern-day Mort Sahl.

Each has serious issues to discuss, but if a little humor seeps in like
sugar to make the medicine go down, fine. The whole concept is to get a
point across, not put the audience to sleep.

Kenneth Kahn is a lawyer-comedian, a hyphenate you don't see every day. He
carries a business card that reads: "Kenny Kahn. World's Funniest Attorney."

He did his stand-up act Thursday night at a Pasadena club called the Ice House.

"You know," one of his favorite gags goes, "99% of lawyers give the rest of
us a bad name."

Kahn is also a member of the Los Angeles Shadow Convention's steering
committee. As with those whose idea it was to convene this
counter-convention in the first place, Kahn was attracted by the promise of
an event where citizens could finally hear a little frank talk on topics
that most mealy-mouthed politicians duck.

A criminal defense lawyer in the L.A. area for 30 years, Kahn is, like a
lot of Americans, fed up with candidates accepting indecent amounts of
money from special-interest groups to finance their campaigns. Sick of
politicians who promise to aid America's impoverished and then funnel
billions elsewhere. Tired of undue punishment for drug possession that is
often little more than thinly disguised persecution of minorities.

"The drug war is over. Drugs won," Kahn jokes in his act, but as with a lot
of cutting-edge humor, he isn't entirely kidding.

Kahn was a radio program's guest when he first heard about the conventions
Huffington and others were organizing. The idea appealed to him
immediately. Pundits and actors might be a part of it, but at least they'd
be upfront about it.

"The Democratic and Republican conventions are fully staged, Hollywood-type
productions," Kahn believes, "and the public is sucked in by this. It's
nothing but bad programming."

Sometimes preliminaries turn out to be better than the main event. With
daily sessions in Philadelphia next week and beginning Aug. 13 at the
Patriotic Hall in downtown Los Angeles, the shadow conventioneers will
address such subjects as why the world's wealthiest nation can't aid its
underprivileged, then dare the elephants and donkeys to follow that.

"We ought to turn the Statue of Liberty around 180 degrees, so it faces
America," Kahn proposes. "It's about time we face our own poor."

As for special-interest groups that donate millions to buy a candidate like
a commodity, "any public servant who accepts a monetary gift ought to be
formally charged with taking a bribe," Kahn says, talking as citizen, not
comedian.

You won't be hearing much talk like that out of certain convention halls
over the next few weeks. Snoring, yes, but probably not much else. Then
again, maybe the speechmakers and stand-up acts of the shadow conventions
will do what's needed most--get the two stars of the other conventions to
wake up.