Who knew that’s how it would turn out. I was in for the biggest rockstar moment of my life. Bigger than Andy even.
I started out on the Sunday before, January 18, hopping the train down to DC which, miraculously, was on time. That alone seemed like a pretty good omen.
Once we pulled into Union Station, as luck would have it, our train parked right alongside the vintage train that Obama arrived in shortly before. An incredibly gorgeous number, decked out inside to the tops. Fully lit, empty for the most part except for a few handbags and laptops and the waitstaff relaxing off-duty. It made for some tricky disembarking, lots of photos being taken (except me because I couldn’t find my damned phone).
Normally, you can walk right out of the departure area into the grand hall at Union Station but on this night, the hall was blocked off with hundreds of yards of white sheets and metal poles, funneling everyone down to the northwest entrance near Au Bon Pain. A tight squeeze with all that rolling luggage but once out into the covered foyer the electricity was suddenly REAL.
The first thing I saw was an enormous gentleman charging a dollar to let you stand next to his life-size Obama cardboard cutout and to have him snap a photo with your camera/phone. An opportunity no one could pass up.
There seemed to be some glare so he asked me to tip Obama forward at which point I leaned the cardboard in close to me and puckered up for a presidential kiss. Hell of a way to start the festivities!
Eventually I dragged my ass and my ridiculously heavy luggage (I had to carry down an air bed to sleep on for the week) outside amidst throngs of people yardsale-ing every kind of Obama paraphernalia imaginable. The roundabout for pickup was in gridlock in part because of the Latinos-For-Obama ball taking place in the grand hall — hence the bottleneck out the northwest entrance. Quickly phoning my ride, we opted for a meet up at the gas station two blocks up the hill. As I turned against the wind to make the call, I got those patriotic warm and fuzzies that I’ve barely known in my lifetime, looking back at Union Station in all its star-spangled decadence.
Not much I can do without a flash but even in this crappy picture you can tell, there was the sense of romantic grandeur about the place. And it never seemed to quit.
That night, we lucked out without reservations in one of our favorite wine bars, Sonoma on Capitol Hill (lucking out will be a theme). Seating at the bar right away. Genius.
Naturally, we struck up a conversation with the woman next to us, Cyndi from Florida.
Turns out she’s staying around the corner at a hotel and her entire trip is comped to the begeezus, thanks to a contest she won, sponsored by the Obama campaign. It also turns out that due to logistics, she has to choose between being at the Capitol for the swearing-in or sitting in the parade viewing booth on the other side of town. She’s choosing the Capitol. And would we like her parade tickets? OMG!
Not five minutes after Cyndi leaves, two sisters, Stacey and Lisa from California occupy her space. I’m on the phone blabbing about how we just got these crazy sweet spot parade tickets. Guess what. Stacey and Lisa won the same contest (there were 10 winners) and would we like their parade tickets as well? Double OMG!
On Monday you could feel the energy in the city ramping up. On Capitol Hill, it was difficult to walk around, so many people. Never the case normally. I stood in line for 45 minutes at Good Stuff Eatery just to sink my teeth into the famed Obama Burger.
$7.50. Delicious. Totally worth it. Plus I picked up a couple of Good Stuff/Obama rubber bracelet tchotchkes while I was at it. I’m a sucker for tchotchkes.
Tuesday morning the alarm goes off at 7:30 a.m. By at least 1,000,000+ other people’s standards, we are running about three hours late. That includes my mom who’s in town with her two sisters. They started traveling around 4:30 a.m. from Silver Spring and have just arrived by Metro around the same time. They’ve already called me twice, adrenaline skyrocketing like gangbusters.
8 a.m. now. We are off. Two pairs of socks. Triple layer mitten/glove system. Hat. Neck-warmer. Long-johns. Cash. Chapstick. Phone. Tickets. Mysterious golden tickets. We don’t exactly know how close they get us or if we’ll even be let in it all (we heard threats of closing down checkpoints due to overcrowding).
Since we are on 12th St., NE, we’ve got a hefty walk in front of us. According to the tickets and the maps online, we’re in section Blue A, 15th in New York Ave., NW. 28 blocks. Whoa.
The city has been quarantined. Checkpoints and blockades everywhere. All the bridges were closed the night before. It’s kind of scary. But mostly exciting.
A quick stop for coffee, a bagel, and the loo and we keep moving. Around 11 Street NW, we take cover in a friend’s office building. Our last warmth for the day. And perhaps our last loo.
Around 10 a.m. now. Amazingly, the entire time we seem to be walking in the opposite direction of everyone else. Our path is clear and easy. And when we get to check point, always surprisingly civilized, perhaps 20 or so people in line, everyone smiling. Blue A. This is us. Hold up your Blue tickets, the volunteers are saying. And keep them up.
We walk through security which goes by in a flash. Every time someone takes a look at our tickets they smile and say stuff like Wait till you see your seats, you guys have the best seats!
We can see some of the bleachers now, fairly empty for the most part but the parade doesn’t even get started until 2:30 p.m. We’re early.
Blue tickets held high, we keep getting ushered past checkpoint after checkpoint, Keep going, people say, you’re right in front.
Indeed we are.
Plus, porta-potties right behind us, fully stocked with toilet paper. We can go in and out of the checkpoint at will to get coffee, snacks, etc. Inside the checkpoint there is even one vendor with delicious healthy snacks. Miracle.
The people around us are amazing. Spontaneous singing erupting all day. Sometimes patriotic, sometimes more on the soul side (Stand By Me, Lean On Me, etc.). Everyone is incredibly friendly, sharing supplies, giving directions, it’s a bona fide Kum By Ya. Even the Secret Service men were smiling.
We’re in the second row right in the center. In a few hours, Obama will walk by us and sit down no more than 25 feet across from us.
In the meantime, we are freezing our asses off. Sometime around 11:30 a.m. I think it is, my mom calls. They couldn’t get into the checkpoint because there is a water main break and also a generator went down which meant the security systems couldn’t operate. She slightly disappointed but happy to be warm in a bar downtown. They can watch on TV. Meanwhile, my dad calls. “Are you wearing a red jacket with a green hat. Sunglasses on top of your head? A black scarf?” Yes. “Are you jumping up and down?” Yes. Freezing my ass off. Apparently on TV! Can’t wait to watch it on TiVo. Naturally, after this news, we spent a good amount of time trying to figure what cameras were on us.
For the swearing-in, there weren’t any screens, just audio. Which as a radio girl, I liked just fine. Theater of the mind and all. The crowd was dead silent. I might have cried except it was too cold. But I did feel as though I was listening harder to anything that I’ve ever listened to before. I wanted to feel it.
Around 1 p.m. while Obama et al. were eating lunch, we were still freezing our asses off. But there was a little entertainment, some of the cars were lined up as well as police motorcycles, doing kind of a run-through thing. That kept us occupied for a little bit. About this time as well, the police who would be stationed on either side of the street took their posts. All super nice. Lots of friendly banter all day it seemed, between the people on the ground and us, the commoners.
Hours later the buses started to arrive. By then we’d gotten word about Kennedy and Bird. The sun was going in which meant about a 10° drop. I hadn’t stopped running in place since we arrived. Seriously. Was incredibly happy that I’d made a last-minute decision to wear my sneakers instead of my boots. As we watched the buses arrive and the dignitaries disembark, there was lots of cheering and shouting especially for celebs like Martin Luther King Jr. (Jr.), John Kerry, etc.
We’d seen representatives from the Honor Guard walk past all day but they started officially marching in around this point. You can see in this picture, the presidential glitterati making their way into the viewing stands, the honor guard in front at ready, and the blaring lights reflecting from the press crew who were standing right over our heads:
Also, those two cops were extra nice, gathering up hand warmers for a woman next to us who was really cold. They were also trading them with us, bartering, so that when the time came, we would take pictures with their cameras. They couldn’t turn around and gawk themselves while on duty.
I guess it was about 4:30 p.m. when the parade started to get going, led by this fuzzy hat guy (what are they called?):
Still running in place. But this is what we’ve been waiting for. Finally, the cops in front of us say He’s coming. They can hear what’s up on the radios. I’ve got one cop’s camera in one hand and my crummy phone camera in the other. It went by so quick. Just before we saw them, too huge trucks with open backs fenced-in like, carrying at least 25 reporters a piece and ginormous cameras go by… filming what we are all dying to see. I almost forgot to look with my actual eyes, so focused on taking pictures. But dammit, I saw those green gloves in real life!
It was about another 30 minutes that went by and we were really ready to leave but I was adamant. Nine hours in the freezing cold running in place, hell if I wasn’t going to wait to see him sit right across from me where I’d been looking all day. It was worth it:
Again, my crap phone camera. The green splash in the middle to left, that’s Michelle. Obama in the center, saluting next to Joe Biden.
We stayed for just a few minutes longer to see the parade go by. Obama doing the hang loose Hawaii greeting, hell yes that was worth it. And then, we came to our senses. Time to get warm. So off we went and just outside of the checkpoint stumbled into an authentic German restaurant, cozy as can be, where we were serenaded by a top-notch German accordionist, Sylvia:
Crazily wonderful and the total opposite of the environment we just came from. Spaetzle and all.
Here’s what four happy people who’ve just survived inauguration look like:
Happy that is, until we remembered we had to walk all the way back home 
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Tags: CUT THROUGH THE NOISE, KATE BRADLEY, OUTLANDOS MUSIC —
Well folks, please forgive the less than thoughtful musing this week. Still digging out from the holidays! Plus, it’s my birthday on Friday (shameless self-promotion). And then it’s off to DC for the inauguration!
In the meantime, this is perhaps the funniest thing I’ve watched in the long time, oh my GAWD:
Kind of makes you want to watch the real thing?
They don’t make them like they used to… perhaps thankfully xx.
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Tags: CUT THROUGH THE NOISE, KATE BRADLEY, OUTLANDOS MUSIC —
Guest post this week from a new fave, singer-songwriter Denison Witmer (his 2008 CD Carry the Weight
Dear You, Whoever You Are,
Kate at Outlandos Music sure has been patient with me. After three reminders (and to her credit not a touch of nagging) she is finally getting the guest post blog letter she requested from me months ago. I have always wanted to believe that I could surpass the age-old slacker musician type categorization and get things done promptly when asked. The truth is, I have fallen victim to my lifestyle and put this post until the last minute. I have a lot of surpassing to learn.
My tardiness excuse is lame: I released my new album on November 11, 2008. My promotional tour started on November 5 (one day after our monumental election – which also happens to be my birthday! I got my birthday wish!) and ran through the middle of December. I returned from tour exhausted from the day after day flights and driving to find myself in full holiday preparation. So many things got piled onto my to do list. So many things happened that weren’t even on any type of list. I baked dark chocolate cookies and put sea salt on top of them. I wrapped gifts in the most beautiful houndstooth wrapping paper I could find. I scanned old family photos, reprinted them, and re-framed them ever so gently. I watched my 2 year old nephew cover himself in wrapping paper as he climbed into a empty gift box to play peek-a-boo. I listened to Willie Nelson’s Christmas album “Pretty Paper
It is New Year’s Eve. Here I sit, covered in a blanket and positioned upright on a friend’s fold-out futon. I am in Washington D.C. (well, technically Falls Church). It’s 3:57pm and I can hear my girlfriend’s closest friends downstairs. They are chopping vegetables and boiling noodles for our lasagna dinner tonight. I just woke up from an afternoon nap. I’m still in my black long underwear (I never thought I would type that sentence.. Oh well, here’s to full disclosure!). I still feel groggy and exhausted. We woke up this morning at 5:30am and went to volunteer at a Miriam’s Kitchen. By 8:30am we had helped serve almost 200 of Washington D.C.’s food insecure citizens. By 9:00am, I was finally having my first cup of coffee at Peregrine Espresso. I am somewhat obsessed with coffee (espresso and drinking Americanos). Peregine was nothing shy of amazing.
Tomorrow is the first day of 2009 (and my Grandmother Mary’s 82nd birthday). Today is typically a day of refection and resolutions. Before I sat up to type this post, I took a few minutes to consider the last year. I have been thinking a lot lately about collective consciousness. I once read that schools of fish experience this phenomenon (or maybe it is not a phenomenon at all). Hundreds or perhaps thousands of them form schools and swim in unison; moving seamlessly with one another as if they know what the other is thinking. I sit here hoping that maybe our country is moving toward some type of peaceful and agreeable collective consciousness. I sense this in the cities I travel to and people I have met on tour in the last few years. I feel like people are rebelling against constant technological connection and searching for true face to face relationships. I sense a willingness to get along that I haven’t sensed before in my lifetime. This excites me and fills me with purpose. Who knows, maybe this feeling I have is just a byproduct of my age (now 32) and not what I romanticize it to be. I can’t say for sure. Some days feel like an impending boundary and other days feel like a window to whatever expanding view we wish. I prefer the latter of the two and can say with confidence that most days feel infinite and exciting. Though, keeping your days infinite and exciting can sometimes be the byproduct of a routine that feels like a boundary. That is the conundrum of it all for me. What is the balance?
George Winston’s “December
Happy new year,
Denison
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1/5/09 | Comments (0)Tags: CUT THROUGH THE NOISE, Denison Witmer, KATE BRADLEY, LETTERS FROM THE ROAD, OUTLANDOS MUSIC —
