Maybe it's hearing the bostonians I know talk about finding refuge elsewhere at the end of the month, or my fellow New Yorkers strategizing about how to skip Penn Station in their daily commute. Or maybe it's because as a reporter I covered these non-events and combed my notebooks for some color to arrange artfully around the emptiness like journalistic landscape architecture. But every time I consider the upcoming political conventions, a single word comes to mind: why?
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