By David Sarasohn

There will be lots of people missing at the Republican national convention in Cleveland this week. The party's last two presidents and last two presidential nominees found themselves unable to make it, and many of its senators, congressmen and governors - especially those whose stomachs get queasy at the idea of sharing a ballot with Donald Trump this November - checked their datebooks and discovered that they had other plans.

Still, the Oregon delegation will be there.

We're plucky that way.

But while they're up for going to Cleveland, they may not have unmixed excitement about checking into Trump Tower.

"Trump is a better choice than Hillary Clinton," says Kevin Mannix of Salem, a former state legislator and GOP nominee for governor and attorney general, in Cleveland as a delegate for John Kasich - Mannix's third choice after Scott Walker and Marco Rubio. "I'll leave it at that."

Even less excited is state Rep. Bill Post, R-Keizer, a Ted Cruz supporter elected an at-large delegate on a pledge to vote for the winner of the Oregon primary, won by Trump after both Cruz and Kasich withdrew. "I believe the nation has lost its moral compass," he explains, "and the result is Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton."

At least there is the excitement of not knowing what's going to happen. "This year, up is down and sideways," says former state senator Bruce Starr of Hillsboro, another Kasich delegate. "Who exactly is the Trump voter? It's hard to know. I'm done predicting."

Going to a convention to nominate a presidential candidate who was unimaginable a year ago is an unusual experience for a politico, even when conventions have become highly scheduled television shows with the delegates as extras. "I know," explains Post about the gathering, "it's basically one big party with a formality attached."

It's enough to stir a certain nostalgia for past times, when conventions were gatherings of party leaders making choices based on what they knew about the candidates and who had the best chance to win. "In the old days," muses Mannix, "(Kasich) would have been a great choice."

These days, Kasich says he won't even be at the convention - despite the awkwardness of being the governor of the state where it's happening. His most likely involvement will be if he has to call out the National Guard.

The Oregon delegation isn't exactly expecting to deliver the state to the nominee in November. "Oregon's a pretty blue state," notes Starr. "If a presidential candidate is in Oregon, I'm not sure why."

So far in this campaign, Oregon has seen one speech by Trump in Eugene before the primary, and one closed fund-raising event for Hillary Clinton in Portland last summer. The conventions may be the last time any Oregonians see either one.

Mannix agrees that Trump "will have more trouble in Oregon than in most other states," although he thinks Trump will draw support from blue-collar Democrats in places like Southeast Portland. "There is an anger out there among the public," he warns, "that we have to be aware of and respectful of."

Besides, there are other races out there besides the presidency.

"I'm going out there to represent Oregon," says Post, "to try to get some attention and resources sent to Oregon to win some more seats in the Oregon House.

"What the president does might affect me three years from now. What the Legislature does can affect you 90 days from now."

It will be an unusual convention; as Chris Cillizza of The Washington Post pointed out, the speakers include as many members of the Trump family (six) as U.S. senators. But even with a federal budget-sized list of Republicans finding someplace else to be this week, a lot of people will be there.

"I'm a networker, and I get a chance to build relationships with people around the country," says Starr, "and to celebrate what it means to be a Republican."

There is a complication, of course, that the presumed Republican nominee seems to be rejecting parts of what people thought it means to be a Republican.

"There are certain things I disagree with," Starr concedes. "The jury's still out to a certain extent. Ask me a year from now."

Still, there are some unambiguous attractions to traveling to Cleveland this week.

"I get to go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame," says Post excitedly. "That's after 30 years in rock and roll radio," before he got into political commentary.

So maybe, in this unsettling year and unnerving campaign, there's only one attitude to bring to the Republican convention, and maybe to the Democratic one in Philadelphia next week:

Rock on.

David Sarasohn's column appears on the first and third Sundays of the month. He blogs at davidsarasohn.com.