Trailhead: A campaign blog.

Disruptions

So far, the security here at Xcel has been a tight seal. But just as McCain starts to speak, a young many on a balcony unfurls a sign—“McCain Votes Against Vets”—and starts yelling. “Ask McCain about his voting record,” he shouts.

The crowd turns to look and drowns him out with a round of “USA! USA!” (He chants along with them.) Security guards are trying to reach him, but he’s all the way in a corner. Instead, an RNC volunteer reaches out, snags his sign, and tears it up.

Police finally persuade the guy to leave his perch.

Now others in the audience are yelling. Men with "Law Enforcement" tags are roaming the aisles.

Update 11:48 p.m.: The American Prospect's Dana Goldstein got an interview with the heckler.

The Adkins Diet

ST. PAUL—John McCain is about to do his 2 p.m. walk-through in the Xcel center arena. But for now, the center of attention is Trace Adkins, the 6-foot-6 inch, goateed country singer slated to sing the National Anthem tonight.

“Oh my God,” says convention attendee Deb Suchla into her phone when she spots him. “I can’t breathe.”

Adkins is hard not to spot. He’s part cowboy, part Norse god, with a bass to match Sam Elliott. He hangs back in a corner next to the stage, but fans keep drawing him out to the rope line, asking to take pictures with him. Each time he tries to vanish, another fan grabs one of his enormous hands and pulls him back. Adkins’ hang-dog expression never changes, except when a camera is about to flash, at which point half his face cranks up into a crooked grin.

“Will you take a picture with my daughter’s elephant?” asks a man, shoving a stuffed doll into Adkins’ arms. Adkins looks confused. “OK,” he says, holding the elephant up next to his head. “But that’s kinda silly.”

His fans are diverse, at least for the RNC. Young girls, security guards, elected officials, older women—especially older women. Suchla says Adkins is “the only man I’d leave my husband for.” (Don’t worry, her husband knows.) One of his songs, “Hot Mama,” talks about how his wife is still sexy even if she can’t squeeze into “them old jeans.” When the ladies hear that, Suchla says, “they just melt.”

Adkins is an avowed Republican. Fans cite his song “Arlington,” sung from the perspective of a dead soldier, as evidence of his support the troops in Iraq. But it can also come off a little creepy. Here’s the chorus from “Arlington”:

And I’m proud to be on this peaceful piece of property, I’m on sacred ground and I’m in the best of company,
And I’m thankful for those thankful for the things I’ve done,
I can rest in peace, I'm one of the chosen ones,
I made it to Arlington.

His most famous turn, though, was as a runner-up on The Celebrity Apprentice, where he faced off in the finals against British tabloid editor Piers Morgan. Suchla described it as a “battle between good and evil”—she must have watched Mitt Romney’s speech—in which Adkins was “decent and honorable” from start to finish.

Real life has been more complicated. Adkins was charged for drunk driving in 2001 and has battled alcoholism. He was once a barroom brawler. His second wife shot him in the heart and lungs.

But of course that’s not a disqualification for the RNC. I ask Adkins if he’s nervous. “Not really,” he says. “I did the World Series.” Indeed, his sound test sounds marvelous. His high note—“land of the freeeeee”—must be somewhere around middle C.

When I ask Suchla for her last name, she jokingly suggests I include her number. You know, in case Adkins is reading.

Buzz Kill

Hurricane Gustav is more than 1,000 miles from St. Paul, but its impact on the Republican Convention has already been substantial: canceled speeches, parties (they’re now charity fundraisers), and appearances. Equally flustered are mischief-making Democrats in St. Paul.

The Dems had planned a whole week of counterprogramming right across the street from the Xcel Center in St. Paul. They plastered billboards across the city featuring the famous McCain-Bush hug. Their war room, the “More of the Same Media Center,” was going to hold daily briefings for reporters (“with breakfast!”). They were even passing out flash drives with up-to-the-minute agitprop, which they called “St. Paul Survival Kits.”

Needless to say, survival kits aren’t quite as funny now.

Even before the Republicans decided to cancel all of Monday’s events save the most technical proceedings, the Democrats started dismantling. Sunday’s afternoon reception was canceled, as was Monday’s morning briefing. The MOTSMC is in hibernation until further notice. “Our thoughts and prayers are with the families in the region,” wrote DNC spokesman Damien LaVera in a statement.

If Republicans are in a tough spot, then Democrats’ position is even more difficult. The GOP doesn’t want to look insensitive by ignoring the hurricane, nor does it want to appear to be exploiting a tragedy. The Dems, meanwhile, don’t want to be seen as accusing the Republicans of exploiting a tragedy for political purposes—because that’s exploitation, too. In other words, if the Democrats attack, neither party comes out looking good. It’s kamikaze or nothing.

So instead, it’s become a contest to do the most good. Republicans are urging RNC party-throwers to collect money for charity. Obama has promised to use his list of millions to mobilize donors and volunteers. He also declined to hit McCain for his intended visit to New Orleans. “I think for John to want to find out what's going on is fine,” he said. If only there had been a presidential race going on in August 2005.

Of course, peace can’t reign forever. McCain campaign manager Rick Davis emphasized that as of now, they’re canceling events only through 5:30 p.m. Monday. The Dems have likewise kept their options open past Monday morning. But it’s up to the Republicans to make the first slip. Today’s press conference was a masterwork in tact—McCain made a passionate appeal, while Davis exuded calm. But the Democrats are no doubt operating with a hair trigger. The first whiff of exploitation or insensitivity or managerial incompetence, and the snipers across the street will snap back into action.

Then again, if the Republicans manage to turn this from a distraction into a redemption story, the Democrats may need all the survival kits they can get.