Ever wonder how the phrase ‘we're number one' became the signification of a hand shaped piece of foam?

The political convention season is upon us. Put a few thousand people in a big room with balloons, offer a defrosted chicken or salmon plate and watch hay get spun - highly significant hay! Even if said hay's only purpose seems to be its way with catching on fire.

But not all conventions are political, and not all of politics is hot air. This authoritative-seeming history of the political bumper sticker (part 1, part 2) is more riveting than your typical network commentator, and comes from a blog dedicated to how we advertise with our vehicles' rears. Curious! Even better is a similar account tracing the history of the #1 foam hand. The story begins: "In 1978 former high school teacher, Geral Fauss came up with the #1 foam hand. Since then it has become a universal symbol for the phrase ‘we're number one' and is among the most popular pieces of U.S. sports merchandising." Makes me feel like listening to some Queen.
I caught the indie movie "Conventioneers" at the 2005 TriBeCa Film Festival (trailer below). It's a Romeo-Juliet/Republican-Democrat love story that was filmed guerilla-style among the chaos of the 2004 Republican Convention in New York. Included is a story line about a liberal activist being President Bush's onstage sign-language translator (which appears to actually happen in the film), and deciding whether or not to alter the President's speech for his select audience.

Considering the audience, I prefer conventions that transcend politics for nerdier plateaus. Here is a list of upcoming conferences on alien studies and extraterrestrial phenomena (e.g., the "2008 Culture of Contact" convention, "where real experiencers meet real researchers to figure out what's really going on.") For more grounded interests, there's this dated but still hilarious video of Triumph, the Insult Comic dog mocking Star Wars fans. But the best is Lebowski Fest, where fans of the film "The Big Lebowski" can gather to appreciate the Coen Brothers' stoner masterpiece. As seen from photos of attendees dressed up as Maud, the Dude and all the rest, it must be the most fun convention on the circuit.



Llebowskifest is a meeting spot for enthusiasts of all things Lebowski.
Networking, though, is more the point of conventions than fun: bringing people together, connecting small groups to a mother hive. Ethan Hein's Flickr collection of illustrated networks is interesting to browse through. More remarkable is Nicholas Felton's convention of one: a stunning annual report of his life in 2007 in which he details graphically all the year's events, travels, even movie tastes. (Even better, soon you'll be able to use the site Daytum to create your own annual reports).

At www.feltron.com, one blogger delivers an annual report on his life.
I can't think of a visually more arresting concept to bring people together than being identical - i.e., the Twins Days Festival, held each August in (yes, really) Twinsburg, Ohio. As the festival's Web site states: "The Twins Days Festival is open to all multiples - identical, fraternal, young and old, twins, triplets, quads - and their families." Presumably quintuplets are invited, too, though I didn't find them in this gallery of photos.

Double twins at the annual Twins Days Festival in Twinsburg, Ohio. (Charles Robinson)

The best conventions linger past their end date, hopefully with a keepsake. In the case of the documentary "Hands on a Hard Body," it's a truck. As Wikipedia describes:
"The documentary is a 1997 film documenting an endurance competition that took place in Longview, Texas... Twenty-four contestants [compete] against each other to see who can keep their hand on a pickup truck for the longest amount of time. Whoever endures the longest without leaning on the truck or squatting wins the truck."