Everybody is Their Own News Outlet - the Trump Rally 10-14-15

The media was at the Trump rally, but what's the point? Every group at the fairgrounds exhibit hall had someone with a cell phone or tablet camera and was recording Donald Trump making a speech. They took photos of themselves with Trump at the podium in the background. They held up selfie sticks to get shots above the crowd. After Trump left, they took photos of themselves at the podium.

The media tried to play up one racial incident that lasted barely a minute and was quickly swept away by the police, so they only know what angle will sell ads. (I say racial because I think it was a Black Lives Matter shoutathon that quickly got crushed by angry white people. That's what the photos looked like, anyway.) The real story is told by the crowd. It was all about them being there. Even so, I was fascinated to watch the last remnants of the old school campaign trail press corps at work, although none of the big names from TV news were there...yet. Depends on how far Trump goes.

I took all my photos on my phone, too, and live-tweeted the event.

Three buttons for $10. T-shirts went to half price after the event ended.

Jeff Shapiro of the Times-Dispatch, the last of the bow-tied, owl-eyed political commentators in the South.

The media platform is the best place to be although it seems like you're in leg-breaking danger of falling off at any moment.

Behind the platform are several TVs. Who pays for all this.

They will never look at the candidate throughout the event. They are glued to their laptops or phones.

Radio show broadcasting. I don't know if it was live or on tape. They pulled people out of the crowd to be a guest. 

He's on the left.

Either writing notes for a column or sending a text that he'll be home late for dinner.

The media was reporting that fire marshals turned people away after 5,000, but there was still room in the back of the hall. You just wouldn't have seen much. It was at this point that I got paranoid about a creepy looking teen boy with a ski hat on and a coat draped over his arms, hiding his hands, who was there alone and just kept drifting from side to side, not really paying attention to the candidate. A shooter? Why are you here? You don't look like you ever vote. There was no weapons check to get in...of course. This is a Republican rally in Virginia.

After Trump left, you could stand where he stood.

In fact, a line formed to stand where he stood and get a photo.

These girls hung back to interview each other.

Shut Up, Millennials

Last night I attended a "One Party" after work event at the Urban Farmhouse. Urban Farmhouse in Scott's Addition seems to serve craft oatmeal and craft beer, an interesting menu. Oh you millennials, with your craft everything. True, it was mostly a happy hour, but they -- for some unknown reason -- had three people who were operating successful local businesses to each give a ten minute speech on how they got started and how they market.

The event was co-sponsored by the Richmond Ad Club, American Marketing Association Richmond, Legal Marketing Association, and the Richmond Chapter of PRSA.

Interesting, right? Especially for me since according to the published agenda, the speakers were supposed to go first at 5:30, followed by nearly two hours of networking (code for drinking and talking), ending at 8 p.m., instead of the other way around, which I hate because I just want the program, and maybe some free food.

Silly girl. When does anything ever start on time? The program started closer to 6:15 when the host introduced the first business partnership and was roundly ignored, as were the first business partnership, two young women who make a living renting out unique looking chairs and tables for weddings, parties, commercials, and movies. (How did they get started doing that? Where do they find the furniture?)

Okay, you amazing millennials, life must be grand for you. You all have these great marketing jobs, and you got them even though you have visible tattoos, Manic Panic (am I dating myself?) hair in shades of bright red, blue and purple, and you don't remotely wear "office appropriate attire." Here are the guys with the messenger bags; here are the women with the Lady Gaga shoes. Here are gluten-free choices on the buffet table for all of you. This event was certainly billed as a "party" in the title, and two hours and 15 minutes of "networking" time was programmed in so you could talk to each other. Your one job was to shut up for 30 minutes so three of your peers could each speak for 10 minutes about how they started their amazing businesses.

And yet, you could not do that.

You could not do that when the third speaker jumped up to the mic after the first speaker and called you all rude and reprimanded you for your bad manners and pleaded with you to hush up just long enough to show some respect to the people who had agreed to come there and share their stories, ever so briefly.

And you could not do that when the third speaker started her ten minutes by shouting into the mic, "Shut up, shut up, shut up." Standing in the back doesn't mean we all still can't hear the deadly continuous drone of your voices, you amazing millennials. Your lives are so fascinating, you cannot stop talking about yourselves for 30 minutes.