Inauguration Day!
Not in any real order, and I promise there's no wit or deep intellectual thought here -- I just want to get it all down before I forget.
I left home about 9am and got in the National Mall less than an hour later. Took the Orange line in. It wasn't too bad at all, other than the moronic British couple talking to the chick from Boston: the three of them may have been divided by the Atlantic, but they were certainly united in their stupidity. The entire conversation amounted to little more than each trying to show how much more knowledge they were, before switching to terrorism (yeah, for real), which consummated with the British guy saying that today would be the best day for a terrorist attack since everyone wasn't optimistic and all in one place. I was glad to depart at Foggy Bottom and walk the rest of the way.
It was a little crowded, but nothing too major. I ended up right near a jumbotron slightly west of the Washington Monument (I always think of the WM as facing the Capitol, so in this case, the Capitol is north). Couldn't see a damn thing of the Capitol, but by the sounds of things, nor could anyone else, even ticket holders. It was bleeding cold and windy. Standing around for two and a half hours in sub-zero temperatures is not something I anticipate doing again, at least not willingly.
The mood was amazing. There were muted complaints of not being able to see (I could rant about the father thinking that putting his kid on his shoulders was at all a good idea, but I won't. It's a day of hope and optimism, y'all.), but for the most part, people were kind and considerate. I've forgotten what it's like when Americans are decent and thoughtful, and I think I like it. We should do it more often.
Watching some boring kids choir sing for a bit before watching some boring military orchestra thump and thunder. I think there was maybe something else, but it was even more boring than the choir and the orchestra, so I'm happy to pretend whatever it was never happened.
Then it was on to introductions. Mohamed Ali was brought on stage. I don't begrudge his right to go to a ceremony he's invited, nor do I begrudge the right of the media to show that he was there, but there was something very off-putting about having to watch some elderly doddering old man far past his prime struggle to walk, with his aide periodically stopping to wipe the drool from his mouth. Particularly when dementia sets in, people lose their dignity; the impetus is on us as sentient beings to afford the less sentient some dignity in their final years, particularly as it extends to privacy and the ugly glare of the camera. Five seconds on camera so we know he was there is all we need. Lingering on the poor man for over a minute was offensive and entirely unnecessary.
Some other boring people showed up. There was some laughter as Steven Spielberg was on screen -- no one recognised him for a few seconds. Perhaps we were expecting someone more . . . important? Beyonce and Jay-Z were there. I'd love to know why they were there. Honestly, out of 300 million Americans, were the worthy human being pickings so slim that we had to resort to a collection passing musicians? Not discounting the effect music has on people's lives, but this lot hasn't -- and won't -- change the world with their empty pop songs about being 'crazy in love (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh)'. But anyway.
One of the things that has always frustrated me about this country is the blind devotion to leaders, past and present. They can be the most ginormous fuck ups, and we're still expected to respect them, simply because of the title on their business card. To me, respect has never been something to just 'have', you earn and maintain it. Australia, to me, has a healthy disrespect of authority: the more someone presses their worth merely as a result of their position, the more it is ignored and even reviled. I guess I miss that, and have always thought we'd be a better country if held that same suspicion.
So it was with surprise that I heard the booing and jeering at Bush and Cheney today. Spontaneous outbreaks of 'na na na na heeeeeeey, goodbye' when George W Bush was shown on the jumbotron. As Laura Bush and Cheney's bit of fluff walked down the halls to the Inauguration stage, someone nearby quipped derisively 'yeah yeah, goodbye goodbye, it's been nice knowing you', which was immediately followed by laughter from those of us nearby. The introduction of Democrats was met with cheering (particularly Al Gore, John Kerry* and Ted Kennedy), while mention of well-known Republicans was booed. When Cindy McCain showed on-screen, someone behind me let out an 'euggh' -- I'm still wondering whether this actually premeditated, or if it was merely an honest outletting of revulsion.
As Bush walked up those long hallways for the final time, I couldn't help but notice a mix of derision and nervousness in the crowd around me. It quickly became apparent I had completely misjudged. Rather than anxiety, it was more anticipation of the idiocy we've all become accustomed to with the 43rd President. Every person prior to Bush has treated the floor manager with respect: Bush gave her what amount to a high-school hand slap before walking outside. Hard to describe the crowds reaction, but it can probably be best summed up as 'What a fucking idiot' or 'How did he get a hold of the highest office?' As Bush walked outside and pretended to recognise the fellow politicians he was speaking to, someone next to me made a noise that mostly resembled Beavis laughing after inhaling a large dose of helium: few things could better sum up this presidency.
The cheering upon hearing the announcement of Joe Biden or Barack Obama can be clearly seen on the TV coverage, so I won't bother recounting that. After Biden was inaugurated as VP, someone quipped 'One down, one to go!', which was immediately followed by racious laughter. As I said, the mood of the crowd was wonderful, and was exactly what I went in there for. I can watch the inauguration many times over on the telly (and probably will). The mood of the crowd that day could only be witnessed that day, in person.
As Michelle Obama was introduced, the cheers were overwhelming. Maila and Sasha had much the same reaction. But this was nothing compared to the cheers when Barack Obama entered the stage. All I can say is that he's a popular guy.
Something I didn't realise until immediately after Barack was inaugurated was the tenseness of the crowd. This whole thing since the election has been almost too good to be true. There's a part of me that still doesn't believe he was elected, but before today, I couldn't shake the feeling that this just couldn't be. It seemed too right, too fair, too just for him to be President. And I wasn't the only one who felt this way. The cheers that erupted after he became our president were not cheers of happiness but rather of relief. Two and half months of waiting, fearing that someone would happen preventing him from ever taking office were nullified. Fucking amazing.
Once the announcement of some lame poem came on, I decided to hightail it out of there. As I headed to the gates lining the Mall, I couldn't help but listen to the poem. God it was awful. The qualification for the writer apparently amounted to being 'An American Poet', an achievement surely even the most retarded of all could reach. Hell, I'm sure Bush's written a few rhymes, we should put him up there. We are forking out for his salary for the rest of his life -- make him earn it!
The Inauguration organisers, in their infinite wisdom, thoughtfully placed gates around the perimeter of the Mall. So thousands of Inauguration goers descend on the same two metres of exit space at the back of the Mall. How could've predicted that this wouldn't end well? A couple of people evidently realised that barring some escape, we would all be waiting there for a while (over an hour just to exit the Mall, as it turned out), so they helpfully pushed apart once of the fence links to shouts of 'yes we can!' Per washingtonpost.com (http://voices.washingtonpost.com/getthere/2009/01/concert_crowd_exits_mall_--_sl.html):
Crowds leaving the National Mall following Sunday's inaugural concert clogged the streets and Metro stations of downtown Washington.
On streets where vehicles were allowed, traffic creeped by. On streets where cars were banned, pedestrians couldn't move much faster. At 17th Street, some of the people crowded against a security fence eventually moved a large portion of the fence aside, so they could cut through. Some jokingly yelled, "Storm the bastions! Revolution!"
About 200 of us (in my estimation) managed to get through. Not long after the fence was first pushed apart, sirens could be hard. Someone shouted 'move quick, the cops are coming!', which hastened everyone's stampede out the Mall. I was one of the last 10 escape through before a couple of cops running from all different directions came to the fence and forced it closed, much to the chagrin of the remaining thousands eager to escape. Those of us who were the last out started running (though I don't know what we thought was going to happen -- what, the cops would shove us back behind the barricades?). I turned around for a brief second to see one lady who had very clear intentions of leaving the Mall, and very probably would have were it not for the solid metal construction of said fence. It's amazing what force people can have: four or five very strong cops absolutely struggling to hold back a 10-foot long fence. Those of us who had escaped to freedom were then presented with the problem of being in a place where we weren't supposed to. Most of us headed to 18th or 19th street (I think, though it might've been 21st), where we were stopped by a very confused National Guard. One guy turned to the other and said 'where did all these people come from?'. I turned to look back at the National Mall, only too see that from 17th to 21st where masses of people, most of them looking at us rather unhappily. We were let through after a minute (though again, what were they going to do? Keep us there?).
I walked up the street along with my fellow escapes and the others who had been allowed out of the Mall the proper way (i.e. through the exit gates). As I walked up 19th, I could still spontaneous outbreaks of cheering and song: never before has DC been so universally happy. I passed the Farragut West station on 19th and I. It didn't look to crowded, but I wasn't prepared to risk it, and I decided the walk home would be nice. I was home by 2pm.
Five hours to see what was one of the more momentous occasions in our nations history. It was bloody worth it. I don't have many photos: I took two with my phone when I first arrived, and they're pretty much what could be expected from a 2 year old camera phone. I don't really take photos anymore. It's all well and good to have something to remember the event by, but when you don't get to experience the event because you were busy taking photos in order to remember the experience of the event . . . well, it seems sort of purposeless. Memories are more valuable when they're held in your head: perhaps not as infallible as a photograph, but I'm happy to remember the event only in my mind, complete with great lighting and a perfect shutter speed. Just the way it should be.
*Yeah, WTF? This time four years ago, he was roundly blamed for fucking up the campaign and thus giving us four more years of Bush. Now, he's more popular than Lynne Cheney and her wheelchair-bound husband. The world is strange sometimes.
I left home about 9am and got in the National Mall less than an hour later. Took the Orange line in. It wasn't too bad at all, other than the moronic British couple talking to the chick from Boston: the three of them may have been divided by the Atlantic, but they were certainly united in their stupidity. The entire conversation amounted to little more than each trying to show how much more knowledge they were, before switching to terrorism (yeah, for real), which consummated with the British guy saying that today would be the best day for a terrorist attack since everyone wasn't optimistic and all in one place. I was glad to depart at Foggy Bottom and walk the rest of the way.
It was a little crowded, but nothing too major. I ended up right near a jumbotron slightly west of the Washington Monument (I always think of the WM as facing the Capitol, so in this case, the Capitol is north). Couldn't see a damn thing of the Capitol, but by the sounds of things, nor could anyone else, even ticket holders. It was bleeding cold and windy. Standing around for two and a half hours in sub-zero temperatures is not something I anticipate doing again, at least not willingly.
The mood was amazing. There were muted complaints of not being able to see (I could rant about the father thinking that putting his kid on his shoulders was at all a good idea, but I won't. It's a day of hope and optimism, y'all.), but for the most part, people were kind and considerate. I've forgotten what it's like when Americans are decent and thoughtful, and I think I like it. We should do it more often.
Watching some boring kids choir sing for a bit before watching some boring military orchestra thump and thunder. I think there was maybe something else, but it was even more boring than the choir and the orchestra, so I'm happy to pretend whatever it was never happened.
Then it was on to introductions. Mohamed Ali was brought on stage. I don't begrudge his right to go to a ceremony he's invited, nor do I begrudge the right of the media to show that he was there, but there was something very off-putting about having to watch some elderly doddering old man far past his prime struggle to walk, with his aide periodically stopping to wipe the drool from his mouth. Particularly when dementia sets in, people lose their dignity; the impetus is on us as sentient beings to afford the less sentient some dignity in their final years, particularly as it extends to privacy and the ugly glare of the camera. Five seconds on camera so we know he was there is all we need. Lingering on the poor man for over a minute was offensive and entirely unnecessary.
Some other boring people showed up. There was some laughter as Steven Spielberg was on screen -- no one recognised him for a few seconds. Perhaps we were expecting someone more . . . important? Beyonce and Jay-Z were there. I'd love to know why they were there. Honestly, out of 300 million Americans, were the worthy human being pickings so slim that we had to resort to a collection passing musicians? Not discounting the effect music has on people's lives, but this lot hasn't -- and won't -- change the world with their empty pop songs about being 'crazy in love (uh oh, uh oh, uh oh)'. But anyway.
One of the things that has always frustrated me about this country is the blind devotion to leaders, past and present. They can be the most ginormous fuck ups, and we're still expected to respect them, simply because of the title on their business card. To me, respect has never been something to just 'have', you earn and maintain it. Australia, to me, has a healthy disrespect of authority: the more someone presses their worth merely as a result of their position, the more it is ignored and even reviled. I guess I miss that, and have always thought we'd be a better country if held that same suspicion.
So it was with surprise that I heard the booing and jeering at Bush and Cheney today. Spontaneous outbreaks of 'na na na na heeeeeeey, goodbye' when George W Bush was shown on the jumbotron. As Laura Bush and Cheney's bit of fluff walked down the halls to the Inauguration stage, someone nearby quipped derisively 'yeah yeah, goodbye goodbye, it's been nice knowing you', which was immediately followed by laughter from those of us nearby. The introduction of Democrats was met with cheering (particularly Al Gore, John Kerry* and Ted Kennedy), while mention of well-known Republicans was booed. When Cindy McCain showed on-screen, someone behind me let out an 'euggh' -- I'm still wondering whether this actually premeditated, or if it was merely an honest outletting of revulsion.
As Bush walked up those long hallways for the final time, I couldn't help but notice a mix of derision and nervousness in the crowd around me. It quickly became apparent I had completely misjudged. Rather than anxiety, it was more anticipation of the idiocy we've all become accustomed to with the 43rd President. Every person prior to Bush has treated the floor manager with respect: Bush gave her what amount to a high-school hand slap before walking outside. Hard to describe the crowds reaction, but it can probably be best summed up as 'What a fucking idiot' or 'How did he get a hold of the highest office?' As Bush walked outside and pretended to recognise the fellow politicians he was speaking to, someone next to me made a noise that mostly resembled Beavis laughing after inhaling a large dose of helium: few things could better sum up this presidency.
The cheering upon hearing the announcement of Joe Biden or Barack Obama can be clearly seen on the TV coverage, so I won't bother recounting that. After Biden was inaugurated as VP, someone quipped 'One down, one to go!', which was immediately followed by racious laughter. As I said, the mood of the crowd was wonderful, and was exactly what I went in there for. I can watch the inauguration many times over on the telly (and probably will). The mood of the crowd that day could only be witnessed that day, in person.
As Michelle Obama was introduced, the cheers were overwhelming. Maila and Sasha had much the same reaction. But this was nothing compared to the cheers when Barack Obama entered the stage. All I can say is that he's a popular guy.
Something I didn't realise until immediately after Barack was inaugurated was the tenseness of the crowd. This whole thing since the election has been almost too good to be true. There's a part of me that still doesn't believe he was elected, but before today, I couldn't shake the feeling that this just couldn't be. It seemed too right, too fair, too just for him to be President. And I wasn't the only one who felt this way. The cheers that erupted after he became our president were not cheers of happiness but rather of relief. Two and half months of waiting, fearing that someone would happen preventing him from ever taking office were nullified. Fucking amazing.
Once the announcement of some lame poem came on, I decided to hightail it out of there. As I headed to the gates lining the Mall, I couldn't help but listen to the poem. God it was awful. The qualification for the writer apparently amounted to being 'An American Poet', an achievement surely even the most retarded of all could reach. Hell, I'm sure Bush's written a few rhymes, we should put him up there. We are forking out for his salary for the rest of his life -- make him earn it!
The Inauguration organisers, in their infinite wisdom, thoughtfully placed gates around the perimeter of the Mall. So thousands of Inauguration goers descend on the same two metres of exit space at the back of the Mall. How could've predicted that this wouldn't end well? A couple of people evidently realised that barring some escape, we would all be waiting there for a while (over an hour just to exit the Mall, as it turned out), so they helpfully pushed apart once of the fence links to shouts of 'yes we can!' Per washingtonpost.com (http://voices.washingtonpost.com/getthere/2009/01/concert_crowd_exits_mall_--_sl.html):
Crowds leaving the National Mall following Sunday's inaugural concert clogged the streets and Metro stations of downtown Washington.
On streets where vehicles were allowed, traffic creeped by. On streets where cars were banned, pedestrians couldn't move much faster. At 17th Street, some of the people crowded against a security fence eventually moved a large portion of the fence aside, so they could cut through. Some jokingly yelled, "Storm the bastions! Revolution!"
About 200 of us (in my estimation) managed to get through. Not long after the fence was first pushed apart, sirens could be hard. Someone shouted 'move quick, the cops are coming!', which hastened everyone's stampede out the Mall. I was one of the last 10 escape through before a couple of cops running from all different directions came to the fence and forced it closed, much to the chagrin of the remaining thousands eager to escape. Those of us who were the last out started running (though I don't know what we thought was going to happen -- what, the cops would shove us back behind the barricades?). I turned around for a brief second to see one lady who had very clear intentions of leaving the Mall, and very probably would have were it not for the solid metal construction of said fence. It's amazing what force people can have: four or five very strong cops absolutely struggling to hold back a 10-foot long fence. Those of us who had escaped to freedom were then presented with the problem of being in a place where we weren't supposed to. Most of us headed to 18th or 19th street (I think, though it might've been 21st), where we were stopped by a very confused National Guard. One guy turned to the other and said 'where did all these people come from?'. I turned to look back at the National Mall, only too see that from 17th to 21st where masses of people, most of them looking at us rather unhappily. We were let through after a minute (though again, what were they going to do? Keep us there?).
I walked up the street along with my fellow escapes and the others who had been allowed out of the Mall the proper way (i.e. through the exit gates). As I walked up 19th, I could still spontaneous outbreaks of cheering and song: never before has DC been so universally happy. I passed the Farragut West station on 19th and I. It didn't look to crowded, but I wasn't prepared to risk it, and I decided the walk home would be nice. I was home by 2pm.
Five hours to see what was one of the more momentous occasions in our nations history. It was bloody worth it. I don't have many photos: I took two with my phone when I first arrived, and they're pretty much what could be expected from a 2 year old camera phone. I don't really take photos anymore. It's all well and good to have something to remember the event by, but when you don't get to experience the event because you were busy taking photos in order to remember the experience of the event . . . well, it seems sort of purposeless. Memories are more valuable when they're held in your head: perhaps not as infallible as a photograph, but I'm happy to remember the event only in my mind, complete with great lighting and a perfect shutter speed. Just the way it should be.
*Yeah, WTF? This time four years ago, he was roundly blamed for fucking up the campaign and thus giving us four more years of Bush. Now, he's more popular than Lynne Cheney and her wheelchair-bound husband. The world is strange sometimes.