Inauguration Day

I wasn't too cold, we had found a spot to the east of the capitol on the dirt. Somehow at my angle the sun shined directly on my face through a tall and bare winter tree. The very tall guy in front of me kept turning around to talk to his very short girlfriend behind him, so depending on the position of his shoulders I could see the screen in the trees perfectly or not at all. To my right was the steps of the capitol and the stage. Although I could see all of that, I couldn't really make out who was there, or even where the podium was.

We watched all of the various senators and VIPs enter the stage, many were cheered, and only Lieberman and Bush were booed. When Bush came out we all looked at each other, is this appropriate? to boo the president? And thats why being American is so great. Of course you can boo the president. And so the crowd of millions did. Looking at Bush's face during the ceremony, he looked unhappy. I am not sure if that was his sad to leave face or his sad I am hated face, but there was little joy.

Maybe it was where we were standing, but I didn't feel I was in a crowd of millions, but in a crowd of a hundred, all I could see were the heads around me and their feet on the ground. It was all local, my inauguration experience. At times I would try to look behind the heads around me to see the sea of people on the mall. It was a rather inconceivable sight. My brain had a hard time conceptualizing that many people so close by.

When the quartet began to play, the stillness and beauty of the music calmed us into observance. The trees and sky were open and the sun continued to blare down behind a thin curtain of winter haze. I looked up at a tree and wondered how many of these it had seen.

We could barely hear the oath, and upon its end, we thought we had been attacked as the cannons were fired off one by one. The floor shook and by the second or third shot we collectively realized, thanks to the large TV screen, that this was part of the inauguration. It was a nice feeling, the shaking of the ground, physically moving us all up to the immensity of the transition.

Strangely enough, being there was distracting, the little concerns of seeing the screen and the cold filled my focus. As Obama began his speech I felt I was in ballet class again, stretching my neck and back the most possible to see his face as he spoke. I thought of how difficult it must have been to try to live up to the expectations of that speech, how significant it was intended to be. And despite the pressure, he delivered. It was a less preacher like speech like Kennedy. It was a smart speech, clarifying through metaphors what his presidency would signify for various groups of people around the world. I couldn't help but nod my head in approval after certain phrases or points were made.

I have rarely heard politicians speak, but when he or she describes more eloquently,and articulates precisely my sentiments, the surprise and delivery gives a feeling of pure satisfaction.

That evening as I walked to the store and forced myself to reflect on the day's events, I came up with a strange conclusion. Being so close to the capitol building and having the crowds behind me so that I couldn't see them, and the media largely missing from the affair, I realized how plain and human all of the people on the stage were. It occurred to me that the powerful may not be exceptionally wiser, or convey a quality that we, the people, lack. In fact, they may be more fallible, they are definitely more vulnerable, and in so many ways senators and cabinet members impact us less than the Apple engineer, facebook programmer or the tv writer.

Obama seemed like a normal guy with great intellect and gusto, ready to try to solve the hardest problems. And George Bush looked like a man who was tired of his job, confused about its success, ready to go home.