Monday, 24 January 2005: Okay, so we went to the Inauguration. I’m sure that when I am an old lady, I will have glowing patriotic memories of the historic moment I was so privileged to witness firsthand. Indeed, this was certainly a highlight of our time here, thanks mainly to the Herculean efforts of our dear friend, Julie, to get us tickets and coordinate fourteen people through a massive crowd, as well as a massive snowstorm (at least by Alabama standards). However, the glory and grandeur of the day were somewhat mitigated by the fact that I was responsible for three little people who didn’t quite grasp the momentousness of the occasion.
The week leading up to the inauguration was like any other week. Except for discovering that Virginians, just like the rest of us straw-chewing yokels, totally flip out at the mention of the four-letter “S” word. I am talking about snow. This week, the activities of Community Bible Study were cut short two days in a row because of the weather. It has always been a matter of principle for me NOT to go to the grocery store when the forecasters begin ranting. I thought people up here wouldn’t notice, but I was wrong. The local news here not only has the option of choosing to report from among numerous violent crimes, but also has national news as their local feed, so you’d think they would not feel the need to show empty Wonderbread shelves, nor to interview hapless grocery shoppers who are wondering whether the amount of toilet paper purchased will balance out with the poundage of groceries they were barely able to secure. Go figure.
After about an inch of snow fell, I did have to break down and get groceries to prepare for our guests. So I sent Andrew to the store and was able to salvage my principles– it’s not like I went myself. The roads had mostly cleared in time to pick up John and Londa and kids from Dulles, so we were able to get everyone inside and fed and bedded down to prepare for the festivities to follow.
Inauguration Day dawned bright and sunny, and although the air temperature was barely in the thirties, there was little wind and little humidity. I thought it felt rather nice, but everyone else seemed ready for an Antarctic holiday. First we get on the Metro with about a bazillion high-schoolers, who were relatively well-behaved. Then we stand in line for about ninety minutes, just to get into the security perimeter. After standing in one spot for around twenty minutes, we noticed that no one was going through security. Hmmmmm… With our post-9/11 mentality, you can’t help but wonder what was up. The sharpshooters on the roof of the Smithsonian, the Congressional office, and every other vantage point made us begin to ponder if even the birds on top of the Botanic Gardens were security pigeons, wired to peck at the least sign of trouble. It’s kind of a weird feeling to know that you are very vulnerable, while standing quite probably in the most secure spot in the nation at that moment. Your tax dollars at work.
Anyway, we finally got to the security tent and were separated by gender…..(uh-oh). They asked us to have our tickets in hand and open our coats. Usually, people who hold their coats open in public gain the attention of the police, but not here. We were patted down, and passed by several layers of security forces before entering the Capital lawn. The Marine Band was playing, and about the time we got settled, the ceremony began. The first selection was a song called “Heal Our Land” sung by some big black dude who had the biggest voice I had ever heard. I don’t think he used a microphone. I have heard a song by this title before, but this one was different and absolutely beautiful and, after the crowd showed how classless they were by booing John Kerry and Hillary R.C., was very, very appropriate. I heard today that Orrin Hatch (R-Utah) wrote it–maybe he SHOULD give up his day job. So, as I was trying to have a moment to savor the full patriotic effect, I heard the phrase that strikes panic into the heart of any parent in a large crowd, “I GOTTA GO BAFFROOOMM!!!!” Ohhhhh,no……….
I look down at my precious three year-old in her snow overalls and ski jacket, and then at the seventy thousand people separating us from the line of port-a-potties (which we had visited less than an hour ago). The inquisition continued..”Is it pee or poop?” “I GOTTA GO POOOOOOP!!!! WAAAAAHHHHH-HAAAAHHH!!”. It’s only a few thousand people–we can do it. I lower myself over and down the retaining wall behind us and try to access the first line of defense. Chain-link fence. The second line was just to the left–if we can get up the steps, we can get to them. This was about the moment that the announcer said “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Vice-President of the United States, Richard B. Cheney!” and everyone pressed in to see and held their digital cameras up to preserve the moment for posterity. Meanwhile, I am running frantically behind everyone with my posterity bouncing up and down on my hip, hoping that we can make it in time. Too many people, too close together. Nuts!
Anyway, I realize that there will be no penetration of this crowd and I return to our spot in defeat, only to realize that I’m separated from the rest of our group by a chest-high retaining wall. Andrew meets me at the back of the crowd for a status report–we had not achieved our goal, but there was still hope (no pun intended). I pass her over the wall and start to climb it myself, which was when I realized there are no footholds (an Olmstead security measure) and I am about three inches too short. So, here I was on the lawn of the Capitol, head down, feet in the air being pulled by my jacket face first into the crowd. Kinda like a Republican mosh pit. Boy, if you EVER need to attract a policeman’s attention, just cause a minor disturbance by flailing about upside down in the middle of an enormously secure public gathering–that’ll do it. The kind folks who helped drag me up and over the wall got the brunt of the policeman’s wrath, while I just kinda disappeared into the crowd. I didn’t know whether to be embarrassed, feel guilty for getting in trouble, apologize for getting in everyone else in trouble, or what. I didn’t care too much SINCE THIS WAS AN EMERGENCY, PEOPLE!! Upon our arrival back at our spot, Hope – still professing digestive distress – prompted the two Eagle Scouts in our bunch to devise a temporary potty out of one of the two plastic lawn and leaf bags Julie had had the foresight to bring. Her five year-old son had fallen asleep on the other bag, as he lay on the frozen ground. Did I mention that he was sick that day? Poor kid…the snow-covered tundra probably felt good. I made sure that I voiced my objections that the kind people who had aided (and abetted) me over the wall did NOT deserve to see my daughter do what they were about to make her do.
However, when Hope realized that we were really serious about the bag and what her options were, her delicate sensibilities were offended by the thought of doing THAT in public. So I missed the V.P. swearing-in and Denyce Graves singing (sorely disappointed by that one. Really, I was.), while negotiating with Hope regarding her options–pants, bag, or hold it.
Long story short, she chose to avoid public disgrace and to just hold it for another two hours– all’s well that ends well. So, later I read about the Europeans and Canadians getting all huffy in response to Bush’s speech (did I mention that the roof of the Canadian Embassy was full of people? They really couldn’t hear what he was saying, anyway), and I just suppose I’ll have to look up what in particular it was that upset them so, because I don’t remember a word of what he said. Until next time….