What I Saw at the Inauguration

A week later and I finally get around to posting my inauguration adventures.

The Metro station, 5 am.:
Not bad, considering that NPR had just reported that another station had lines extending out the doors and down the street. I just walked up. The train itself wasn't that crowded, although, with each stop, it gradually filled.

Transferring to the green line, I found Ikea's co-optation of "change."
I briefly wondered if they had approached the Obamas and offered to redecorate the White House.

Leaving the Metro station:
Months ago, I thought that this would be my only view of the inauguration. I was pretty sure that I would be packed onto the escalator, which would have broken down, and someone would have a radio playing the speech.

One of the many, pre-dawn hawkers of Obama crap: He's holding up what looks like a press pass, which got people's attention, but it is really only something saying something to the effect of "I was at the 2009 Inauguration of Obama and all i got was this stupid souvenir."

The Capitol:
It was this dark when I got to what would be my standing place for the next 6-8 hours. I ended up on my feet for over 12. At this point, everyone liked having a crowd because the body heat kept you warm and the other people blocked the wind.

"Hello, my name is Bob and I will be your sniper today:"
"Hi, I'm Dave, and if Bob misses, I won't:"
Like I said, the temperature was freezing cold. Seriously, I thought I was going to get frostbite and I prayed for my toes to go numb because then they would stop hurting. Some of the people around me began singing, which did hold off the worst of the cold. This woman, along with many around her, had some spectacular vocal chords. Lots of church groups attended, so the singing went from pop standards like "Lean on me" to a sad attempt at Civil Rights songs, for which no one knew more than the title lines ("We Shall Overcooooome, We Shall Overcooome, We Shall Overcooome lalalala...Keep Your Eyes on the Prize dadada...."). Then the church groups kicked in. When people start talking Jesus, I get uncomfortable. Jesus people can go a lot of ways, and many of those ways are fairly bigoted, regardless of race.

Here is one of the ways that they can go. This guy was singing his heart out, but couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. He said, "I know, I know, I don't have the talent but I have the heart and the soul." He did, too! His joy was contagious. Then the spirit overcame him and he shouted, "Let's have a prayer!"

"Let's not," I thought, fearing what the prayer might contain.

"This is a Pentecostal prayer!" he shouted.

"Amen!" said the group.

"Oh, shit!" thought I.

Then he launched into what was a fairly secular and clearly joyful expression that Obama had become president and that Civil Rights was moving forward:

I tried not to be cynical about what they might think about gay civil rights. Still, I almost envied the way that he gave himself over to this feeling with such abandon, and the way many of the people around him did the same.

One woman held up a Martin Luther King, Jr. picture (I didn't take hers). I showed her my Frederick Douglass t-shirt (oh, c'mon, you knew I had one), which was the second to last of my ten layers of clothes. She was thrilled. "It's so good that you care," she said. "It's really about all of us." Then she wanted to know, "Do you know Jesus?"

I did not say, "not personally." I did say, almost apologetically, "no." She looked at me with sadness. "I thought you might." At least she didn't try to convert me.

I did think of what Babu says about religious people. He doesn't take it personally when they try to convert him. He just says, "good for them" that they have found something meaningful. I felt the same.

Some of the other people around me: Notice the Spellman cap? Another woman came up to her and said, "Hey, Spellman! What class?"

"Ninety-six," said the woman in the cap.

"Ninety-four," said the new woman, then winked.

A little later, the people in charge of the big t.v. screen -- Jumbotrons! -- started to play the big concert from the previous Sunday. "Yea!" I thought, "no more Jesus! Bruce Springsteen instead!" We all have our religions. Mine used to be rock-n-roll. It can save your mortal soul, you know. This is a picture of people looking in the general direction of the nearest Jumbotron:It's that white square toward the left side of the picture. It is also facing in the other direction. The one in front of us was not playing the concert. By "in front," I mean a whole chunk of the Mall away from us:See the blue truck? See the tree behind it? See the dark squarish thing behind the bottom branch of that tree? That's the Jumbotron. This was my view. The woman next to me said, "You know, I know it's not all about me, but couldn't they just move that tree for one day.

She was joking, just in case that wasn't clear. Sometimes, it isn't.

Incidentally, Garth Brooks sang "American Pie" in the concert. At least, he sang a bastardized version of it. "Wait a minute," I thought, "a country singer, who is not the Dixie Chicks, performed for a Democrat?" I respected Brooks just a tiny bit more for that; although, having the Dixie Chicks perform would have been awesome.

Then, the main event began. I thought a gay chorus was supposed to sing. Unless they are letting elementary school age kids come out, the gay chorus did not sing. Instead, we were serenaded by a large children's choir. It sounded like a Christmas concert that would not end. Over and over and over.

That was followed by that bigot minister's prayer. The people around me -- the Jesus people -- all bowed their heads and prayed along. One woman raised her hand up to god and swayed. About a sentence into the dude's prayer, I couldn't take it. This guy hates gays. I love gays. His definition of civil rights is "I got mine, fuck the rest of you." Mine is best stated by Fannie Lou Hamer, "Nobody's free until everybody's free."

Thinking specifically of VUBOQ, and GayProf, and Tenured Radical, and my old crush Farnoush, and my old crush Chris , and my student in my Civil Rights class last year, and very especially of Lori, I turned my back on the bastard. He stood there invoking both god and civil rights while denying the second to a significant chunk of the population. It was just me, but I felt something had to be shown, some dissent, even if it went unnoticed. I hope other people did the same.

When he finished, I turned back around. Then the parade of luminaries to the stage began. The crowd, cold and tired and excited, had no compunction about expressing opinions. Newt Gingrich? "Boooo!" I said, "you know it just kills him to have to watch Obama inaugurated." Roberts conducting the swearing in, same there.

All of the Bushes -- not just the presidents but their wives as well -- received vocal disapproval. "Laura Bush?" one woman said. "She should be ashamed of herself being a librarian. No child left behind is such crap. My child takes 7 tests a year and she's just 9." She kept going with her indictment until George W. appeared on the screen. I've heard people in other parts of the crowd began singing the same "na na na" song that I posted on the day (which I actually set up the night before and timed to go up at noon on Tuesday). In my part of the crowd, people began singing "Hit the Road, Jack" ("and don't ya come back no more, no more, no more!")

The same woman who editorialized about "No child left behind" -- with much support, I might add -- said, "you know the news is not going to report the booing. They will tape over with some cheers and no one will know just how much we really do hate him."

I have since learned that some people, even people who dislike W., think that booing him lacked manners and civility. This is an instance in which the charge of rudeness is in fact a silencing mechanism. Consider the man's record in office, his boorish attitude toward even his own people who disagreed with him. Consider what he did to our country, our economy, our world. Booing is the least of his deserts. We should have all thrown our shoes -- except Bob and Dave would have taken us out.

Clinton and Carter, on the other hand, got cheers. I've grown to respect Carter in the past few years. The man had an undeserved reputation for being "weak," but he stood down both Begin and Sadat. That took some big brass swinging huevos.

Hillary Clinton got cheers too, which made me happy. She's got a set of huevos herself. Suddenly, I realized, despite many people wanting her to be the Vice President, she will probably be much more effective and happy as the Secretary of State. Of the two offices, which one actually has power? (Aside from during Cheney's reign.) In fact, when Mrs. Biden revealed that Mr. Biden had been given a choice of position, I began to wonder what really went down. Clinton might have been given the same choice and given it first. She chose well.

Then, the raison d'etre for the gathering began. Biden took the oath. "Cheney is outta here!" I yelled.

"Hell yeah!" someone nearby said.

Obama takes the oath, from my point of view:

The crowd went wild! Including me! We yelled and screamed and jumped up and down and people cried and hugged and slapped high-fives and high-tens and maybe even a high-twenty or two. Little flags waved. Fantastic! The long evil reign had ended (and from the past week, we may actually have reason to believe life might possible perhaps get better at some point in the future -- repealed gag rule, open presidential papers, now let's get some gay rights and a better economy!)

Obama hopped right into his acceptance speech, which I like to call "The George W. Bush Smack Down." Ah, yes, the sweet smell of schadenfreude as I thought of that smug little bully sitting up there on the platform having to listen to all of his sins listed, and yet not be mentioned by name. I did a little evil Snoopy dance.

As many have pointed out, this wasn't Obama's greatest speech by far, but he could have just stood up there and said "blahblahblahblah" for 20 minutes and everyone would have been happy. President Obama -- not President Bush -- that's what mattered.

At some point, Aretha Franklin sang. Talk about icing on the sweet sweet cake of the day! (I didn't see the hat until later -- only she could make that work -- from my "seat" I thought she was wearing an African head wrap.)

Some people also have made a big deal about the Yo-Yo Ma bit being recorded. Actually, being a former band geek from way back in the day and being the child of long-term band geeks, I sort of wondered about the effect of the cold on the instruments and their sound. So, no big surprise. I wondered the same thing when I saw the various military bands line up behind the Capitol for the parade.

Speaking of which, once the festivities ended and the last prayer was said (do they really have to drag god and Jesus into everything?), I began my race to give W. the double bird as he flew off. I honestly thought that I had about two hours. The Post reported that he was supposed to have lunch in the Capitol and then fly away. I braved the human traffic to get to the opposite side of the Capitol:In my sojourn, I saw Marine One fly overhead and thought that it was headed toward the Capitol. Little did I know that the little coward hightailed his sorry butt straight through the building, out the back door, and off to Texas. Marine One was leaving.

In my ignorance of his departure, I spent the next two hours hiding from the cold in the vestibule of the Library of Congress. Two professional freelance photographers working for one or another wire service (I don't ask questions, I just eavesdrop), sought shelter there as well. That's how I learned I had missed the ratbastard. So, I'm not completely sure that he is gone. I can only trust the news.

I stayed there in the Library of Congress, waiting for the parade to start:

Then I headed home. The Capitol South Metro station was closest, being only a block to the left of this picture. There, the line led around the block, and they had ceased letting people into the station because the platform had filled to capacity. After about 15 minutes, I decided to walk home. Five miles, sure, but I'd get there sooner. On my way, I passed Union Station and decided to try my luck there. The crowds seemed much larger, but most were going to Amtrak, which is housed in the same station. I ended up just hopping on the next train out and was home within 20 minutes.

Asleep within the hour.