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We went. We saw. We conquered. It’s estimated that 1.8 million people swarmed the National Mall (and surrounding areas) on January 20, 2009 to Witness History. We were three in that crowd. Our day started at 8:30 that historic morning, when we ventured out to catch the “Special ‘16S’ Bus” running from The Other Part of Arlington to Southwest D.C. Soon realizing we were, in fact, too special to wait for this Special Bus, we quickly caught a cab whose driver managed to take us all the way down to Eastern Market despite the bridge closures. Diva-licious. Our comfy-cozy diva ride was well earned, however, for we had to endure listening to our driver explain how black people never tipped before Obama got elected, and how now, of course, “they” all tip so well, and are “finally” friendly to the City’s hard-working cabbies. Trust him, he knows. He’s a social psychiatrist. Mr. Taxi was right, however: black people were friendly that day. So were white people. And Asian people. And Latino people. And all people. It truly was remarkable, and my favorite part of the day, just the excitement and energy one could feel just being among the masses. Everyone wore big smiles. Everyone was friendly and helpful and exuberant. The sense of pride and togetherness was tangible. And it felt good.
Unfortunately, our Great Virginia Senators and Congresspeople did not bestow upon us any of the coveted tickets to the swearing-in ceremony. Probably a good thing, for I totes would have tried to sell them Craiglist-style like this dude. Or this guy. Obviously, I kid. That would be illegal. And just wrong. Plus, as we later found out, tickets didn’t guarantee anyone admission into the swearing-in (sorry, SassyBaskets). Apparently broken metal detectors and winter coats were to blame. (Seriously, someone failed to take into account how many people would be wearing bulky winter coats and clothing in 18 degree weather?? Hmm…Let’s hope that guy left with the rest of the Bush Administration). Undeterred by our lack of tickets, we made it Downtown early enough to secure a spot on the parade route. Great success.
The lines to pass through the security checkpoints were long and daunting. So long, in fact, that they almost led this girl to abandon ship and go watch the inaugural ceremonies from a nearby bar (warm and toasty-style). Thankfully, we spotted a hidden alleyway that the three of us, despite all working close-by, had never stumbled upon before. I will liken it to Platform 9 and 3/4; it truly was magical. Hidden at the front of this alleyway was a Super Secret Security Checkpoint. After a brief wait, which lasted just long enough for me to inhale a tasty bagel (and a handful of Pringles), we were thoroughly frisked and granted access to the parade route. Time check? 10:30 a.m. The parade was set to begin at 2:30, so we definitely had some time to kill.
We began Operation Let’s-Try-And-Make-The-Next-Four-Hours-Go-By-As-Fast-As-Possible by scoping out prime real estate. A near fist-fight with a extremely pushy, tiny little lady later (okay, so not everyone was in super friendly happy sharing-mode), we staked out a great spot right along the barricade on a raised landscaping ridge. Too bad after standing there for about 2.5 hours, we discovered we were too far up on the route, and would only be able to see the Presidential Procession, and not the actual parade, which didn’t start for another few blocks past where we were. Frozen at this point, but still undeterred, we ran down a few blocks, finding an equally prime spot, passing Holly Robinson Peete (of Hangin’ With Mr. Cooper fame) and Matthew Modine on the way. We made friends with our neighbors in our new location, one of whom had a radio, so we were finally able to hear more than the muffled sounds we had been hearing earlier. Our neighbors also included several young children, who couldn’t have been more than 5 and 7 and 9 years old. These children (and their families) had been out since 6:00 a.m., and, despite this, were better behaved and less cranky than at least two of our group, who had taken to wearing gloves on their toes and who had cacooned themselves in hot pink blankets (okay, I’m talking about myself here). It was truly frigid out. My toes were numb, my nose was runny, my teeth were chattery, and I was hungry and tired and thirsty and had to use the restroom all at once.
Unfortunately, our Great Virginia Senators and Congresspeople did not bestow upon us any of the coveted tickets to the swearing-in ceremony. Probably a good thing, for I totes would have tried to sell them Craiglist-style like this dude. Or this guy. Obviously, I kid. That would be illegal. And just wrong. Plus, as we later found out, tickets didn’t guarantee anyone admission into the swearing-in (sorry, SassyBaskets). Apparently broken metal detectors and winter coats were to blame. (Seriously, someone failed to take into account how many people would be wearing bulky winter coats and clothing in 18 degree weather?? Hmm…Let’s hope that guy left with the rest of the Bush Administration). Undeterred by our lack of tickets, we made it Downtown early enough to secure a spot on the parade route. Great success.
The lines to pass through the security checkpoints were long and daunting. So long, in fact, that they almost led this girl to abandon ship and go watch the inaugural ceremonies from a nearby bar (warm and toasty-style). Thankfully, we spotted a hidden alleyway that the three of us, despite all working close-by, had never stumbled upon before. I will liken it to Platform 9 and 3/4; it truly was magical. Hidden at the front of this alleyway was a Super Secret Security Checkpoint. After a brief wait, which lasted just long enough for me to inhale a tasty bagel (and a handful of Pringles), we were thoroughly frisked and granted access to the parade route. Time check? 10:30 a.m. The parade was set to begin at 2:30, so we definitely had some time to kill.
We began Operation Let’s-Try-And-Make-The-Next-Four-Hours-Go-By-As-Fast-As-Possible by scoping out prime real estate. A near fist-fight with a extremely pushy, tiny little lady later (okay, so not everyone was in super friendly happy sharing-mode), we staked out a great spot right along the barricade on a raised landscaping ridge. Too bad after standing there for about 2.5 hours, we discovered we were too far up on the route, and would only be able to see the Presidential Procession, and not the actual parade, which didn’t start for another few blocks past where we were. Frozen at this point, but still undeterred, we ran down a few blocks, finding an equally prime spot, passing Holly Robinson Peete (of Hangin’ With Mr. Cooper fame) and Matthew Modine on the way. We made friends with our neighbors in our new location, one of whom had a radio, so we were finally able to hear more than the muffled sounds we had been hearing earlier. Our neighbors also included several young children, who couldn’t have been more than 5 and 7 and 9 years old. These children (and their families) had been out since 6:00 a.m., and, despite this, were better behaved and less cranky than at least two of our group, who had taken to wearing gloves on their toes and who had cacooned themselves in hot pink blankets (okay, I’m talking about myself here). It was truly frigid out. My toes were numb, my nose was runny, my teeth were chattery, and I was hungry and tired and thirsty and had to use the restroom all at once.
Upon finding out that the parade was now delayed due to Sen. Ted Kennedy’s seizure, Sen. Byrd’s illness, and this relatively unpublicized mishap, I, again, was ready to throw in the towel and abandon ship (What? I like mixed metaphors. So what?). Thankfully, we remained steadfast, and a little before 4:00 p.m., we were able to catch amazing glimpses of Barack and Malia (!!) Obama, and the ineffable Joe Biden (love him!). Photos to follow. Our excitement renewed, but frozen solid, we bailed on trying to see the rest of the parade, and instead moseyed on over to the new Matchbox on Barrack’s Row. So began our own Miley Inauguration Celebration, after we were joined by SassyBaskets, who decided to give the Inauguration and D.C. another shot, after a disappointing morning. Obama Day turned into Obama Night, and subsequent stops at 18th Amendment and Pour House were made. Lady GaGa ensued, and all was right in the world. It was a day to remember--a day of crowds, a day of cold, and a day of celebration--all in the name of Hope. And Change. And Obama. I can’t wait to see what happens next.
2 comments:
hahaha what in the world does your title refer to? wink wink.
I'm still so bitter about that day. I'm glad you dragged me back out for impromptu dance partying afterwards.
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