The Americlintonian Era is now upon us. Again. Get used to it or face "peril."

The next question we must answer: From which decade would we like our Hillary to hail?

We prefer ’60s Hillary. The minidresses. The flip. The gravitations toward nonviolent resistance and sympathy with the colonized over the colonizers. Or whatever. Man, college.

It's possible we are going to get either ’90s Clinton or, more frighteningly, 2003 Clinton.

Yet, like a good Tarantino soundtrack, it may be a solid mix of it all.

Up to and after the moment she received the nomination, there were also things.

8:30 a.m., Florida delegation super-secret bunker at the downtown Philly Marriott.

Bernie soothes the Bern — or tries to.

The man who lost a presidential bid but won a fucking movement, man! shows up at a Florida Democratic Delegation breakfast at the Philadelphia Downtown Marriott to tell his supporters to chill the fuck out.

After all, Florida is fucking important and it was our state's Bernie delegates who had a shit fit when system-rigger-in-chief Debbie Wasserman Schultz dared show her system-rigging face in public Monday before she realized she maybe might not wanna do that.

In all hope, he is telling them to stop focusing on this presidential nonsense and to instead focusing on spreading the Bern to state and local races, which are too boring for most people, hence Rick fucking Scott being governor of Florida twice, hence green slime, among other things.

Patrick Devine drove 3,000 miles to attend the convention. “I borrowed money to get here. This is very important to me, it’s about my grandson and all the children that follow.” He says he will write in Bernie Sanders in November. Lisa Mone, who came from Los Angeles for the convention, says she is voting for Green Party presidential candidate Jill Stein. Credit: Joeff Davis

All. Day. Protesters, protesting the things.

Yeah, protesters are still out there. No matter what one's beliefs are, we should celebrate all of this, damn it. Sixty years ago people would be asking me why I was out here all alone without my husband or boyfriend or whatever, as if it mattered whether or not I have one…Oh, wait, they're criticizing the presumptive nominee because of her husband's actions?

Oh. Fuck that.

We may have to, ironically, marry, like, a cousin of someone we know in New Zealand to avoid all of this.

You can have America back, Ted Cruz, though you've never had it.

4:00 p.m., Not-hard Rock.

The Florida delegation is having this reception at the Hard Rock Cafe ahead of Gavel/Roll Call. We are excited.

Alas, despite the Elvis Presley, James Brown and Jim Morrison iconography on display, it isn't much of a party.

They probably knew we were coming and were intending to drink them all under the table.

5:10 p.m. Roll Call

Humans, state by state, in an incredibly procedural matter, have the most civil fucking debate possible. State by state, despite prior fractiousness, delegates say how many of them prefer Clinton and how many prefer Sanders. Like grownups. Weird, huh? Well, let's maybe not hold our breath; Thursday will be a long day.

Michigan delegates show their support for Hillary during the roll call vote. Credit: Joeff Davis

6:50-ish. Menschland.

Bernie concedes, essentially, leaving in his wake a well-thought-out, compassionate set of values for the Dems that deeply contrasts with the divisive frat barf that constitutes the Republican platform.

California’s Bernie Sanders delegates cheer their candidate during the roll call. Credit: Joeff Davis

8:05 p.m. Xanadu.

Someone is handing out free drink vouchers for xfinity Grill.

It's kind of like CNN Grill, in that it's a restaurant taken over by another entity for the week and is only accessible by those with certain credentials and/or connections. CNN Grill is more exclusive, though, and the drinks are all gratis there.

We discover xfinity Grill while, on the large television screens mounted everywhere, the convention carries on.

The mothers of African-Americans who died at the hands of police — either while shot during a stop or who died in custody — obviously would rather not be there, but they speak in favor of Clinton.

Their preference?

That their children were still there with them.

9:30, in the arena.

Howard Dean, the last politician to make a big noise out of Vermont, reprises the Dean Scream. But this time it's on purpose.

10 p.m., everywhere.

Former president Bill Clinton stumps for his wife without making it all about him. Except, nah, that's what he did in a way. It was adorable at some points, saccharine at others. Lots of state-dropping (the political-convention equivalent of name-dropping, guaranteed to get delegations cheering) about places Hillary lived/moved/changed the world in. But what, no territories? What about the time she was helping plant kale fields in Guam?

Sometime after 11.

La Streep talks "grace" and "grit" as rumors spread that Hill herself is about to make an appearance. CBS's Gayle King gets up hurriedly from her seat on the floor, looking like something's up. Oprah and HRC together?

Alicia Keys sings, then… a parade of male prezzies on the jumbotron, culminating in…

Hillary! Live from New York!

And the crowd goes wild, which means Hillary has to keep smiling for a loooong time and the little girl whose hand she's holding has to keep waving, and waving, and waving.

But it's a nice capper to an evening that emphasized Clinton's support of female empowerment, and that leaves everybody (maybe even the Berners, if any hung around) feeling pretty good.