The plane began to descend in to Denver, rocking back and forth like a giant metal feather. Out the window was the quilt of another American state: Colorado.

I’ve been through this place before in my younger years, riding on Greyhound bus cross-country. In the couple hours I spent here I can’t remember much. I remember mountains in the distance, a subway and a grabber video game at the bus station that took my last quarters.

This time around I’m going to the Democratic National Convention. People tell me it will be a great couple of days. I would say I was excited but I kind feel like I ate a bunch of caterpillars a few days ago and now their full-grown butterfly’s reeking havoc on my poor stomach. This is the biggest thing I’ve ever been to, let alone covered and I want to do a good job.

I’m gonna have to pull a Michael Phelps and crank up lil Wayne on my iPod to try and regain some of my confidence.

Rock The Vote gave me a list of things going on in Denver for the convention and I couldn’t believe there were enough buildings in the whole state of Colorado that could house that many events but I guess there are and I will be going to a bunch of them.

Now I’m waiting in the airport with some people I’m supposed to car pool with to the hotel trying to think of ways to not make a fool of myself on this trip. Now things are quiet but I know things are gonna get loud, I know things are gonna get crazy, but for now at the baggage claim I’m as Zen as one can with hundreds of little monarch butterflies banging around in my gut.
—Donny Lumpkins