"Ninety-nine percent of the Mexicans that cross that border are not coming across the border with the intent to kill anyone," mind-reader Martinez claimed, adding, "I'm defending the president's position. That's all I'm doing."
Defending the indefensible, some would say.
Gov. Bill "Open Borders" Owens, impotent on the illegal invasion, was on hand as his chosen successor, Congressmen Bob Beauprez and challenger Marc Holtzman faced off, focusing (!) on immigration policies they would institute as Governor. (The name "Bush" was notably missing from the podium.) Delegates then began what became an hours-long wait to get ballots. (Martinez later blamed Holtzman, the stronger candidate on immigration control policies, for the snafu to certify delegates prior to the vote—even though all had shown photo ID to register that morning. (Today's newspapers report Holtzman secured 28% of the delegate vote, just 2% short of votes needed for a Beauprez/Holtzman primary.) In a pot-calls-kettle-black move, Martinez says he may ask Holtzman to step aside rather than gather Citizen signatures, another option to force a primary run-off. [ Beauprez seizes GOP By Karen E. Crummy and Chris Frates Denver Post May 21, 2006]
As the wait for ballots stretched into the lunch hour, 2,000+ delegates discovered that (English-speaking, for a change) food service workers had failed to replenish hot dog grills. Hungry, huddled masses chose between nasty-looking nachos or icy, cold "hot" dogs served by gloved workers handling money, food, and their hair with no concern for sanitation. Heading out to my car for uncontaminated foodstuffs, I saw scores of angry, still undocumented, delegates bailing out of this sinking ship without being able to vote. After lunch, I headed to the ladies room to wash my grimy hands, and found soap in only one dispenser The Third World has come to Colorado!
At 2 pm, Martinez managed to change his idiotic rules, finally permitting Candidate ballots to be distributed along with what were to be separate Resolution ballots. An hour later, I got my voting package, minus text for the Resolutions. I finally found a delegate with a copy of the Resolutions, and cast an informed ballot. Shuffling along with hundreds of tired, poor, delegates, yearning to be free of this mess, I found my car—now much closer to the gates thanks to rightfully disgruntled delegates who had left earlier without being able to vote.
As delegates' cars crawled towards the freeway, ambulances coming from the direction of the Arena screamed past. I can only guess that Bob Martinez and his cohorts were beng rushed to local hospitals to check for brain activity. Is this Party over?