Yesterday afternoon in the far reaches of Parking Lot B of the Pepsi Center, the Democratic National Committee held a BBQ for the 125 or so party credentialed bloggers here at this week's Democratic National Convention. Parking Lot B, as it turns out, is about halfway between Denver and California, and by the time I had hoofed it out to the party on a sweltering afternoon, I was entirely sweaty and DNC Chairman Howard Dean was just wrapping up his appearance. Dean fielded some questions and was swamped by those of us wielding cameras, before making a break for it. This was a decidedly humble affair. On the menu were some pale turkey burgers and corn on the cob. Half the tent given over to a rest space for Pepsi Center security.

Back in Boston in 2004, I was somewhat on the other side of things, staffing a congressman and in particular putting together a catered breakfast event at a fancy hotel where he could meet and mingle with about a dozen or so "big name" bloggers. (In fact, IIRC this was the event where Atrios outed himself.) Our breakfast was only one of the events specifically tailored by the Democratic establishment to wrap its arms around bloggers and to show that they were considered an extension of the Democratic family -- the slightly rough activist branch of that family. There was a high-profile breakfast gathering with many of the bigger names in the Democratic Party. Bloggers were given seats overlooking the floor of the Fleet Center. There was a high-profile and fairly blingy party over at a nightclub over the river in Charlestown which was one of the hotter tickets that convention week.

Here in Denver, the official "Blogger Lounge" in the Pepsi Center where bloggers are expected to file from is located off the Denver Nuggets' practice court, which has been given over to the traditional press as unassigned workspace. As far as I can tell, Blogger Lounge is where basketballs and other equipment are normally stored. There are actually some terrific seats set aside for bloggers -- complete with blessed ethernet hook-ups -- in the second level of the Pepsi Center, but those are a well kept secret. We found out via a single flyer posted in the Blogger Lounge last night, and it seemed to be as much of a surprise to the staff working the room as it was to us. Is it fair to say that bloggers seem to be slotted into the DNC universe here in Denver as less party activists than as members of the press, with all of the benefits and indignities that carries? Three days into the convention, it seems to me that like that might be the case.

Now, there's been much talk this week about the purpose of having political conventions in the first place, and sending so much traditional press to cover them. There's really no arguing that what happens on the stage of the Pepsi Center is scripted within an inch of its life. So what's the difference between covering the convention from the "media filing center" in the Pepsi Center and from the coziness of your home sofa? Why bother making it all the way to Denver and dealing with all the chaos and craziness that comes with an event of this size and complexity? Believe me, it is fairly crazy. I spent about what seemed like an hour after the BBQ trapped inside the perimeter of the Pepsi Center, singing "Hotel California" ("You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave...") quietly to myself before I finally managed to slip out between a stream of buses through a back gate. Glamorous stuff.

What I'm seeing, though, is that bloggers are covering the stories that make conventions unscripted, organic events -- from Planned Parenthood passing out pink anti-McCain condoms and Clean Coal handing out coal chunks painted green in the streets of Denver. Does that earn them a lot of love and chocolate fountains from the DNC? Nope, probably not. And that might not earn them a lot of respect from the Democratic Party when it gathers to celebrate itself and plan for its future, every four years. But what I'm thinking today, on Day 3 of the Democratic National Convention, is that stories like that point to the role that they can serve as the eyes and ears trained on what happens beyond the podium.