hail to the chief

Tuesday, in between taking sips of milky English breakfast tea, wedging out bites of a Florida grapefruit, and typing out comments to friends in Gmail Chat, I watched the Inauguration with my spotty digital receiver. And I cried.

I didn't cry on Election Night when Barack Obama won Pennsylvania. I didn't cry when he won Ohio. I didn't cry when CNN called the election for Obama, and from the crowd of over one million gathered in Grant Park erupted a cheer that could be heard for miles (see above photo). I didn't cry when the future first family stepped onto the stage, and I didn't cry when he spoke. Maybe I was too sleep deprived from the weeks leading up to the election to really process what was happening, or maybe I wasn't really all that surprised. Part of me wondered if January 20, 2009 would ever come. And, thanks to overly intrusive but strangely, guiltily alluring sites like Politico 44, it did.

So, I found myself on Tuesday, marveling at my own ability to get emotional over something that was, of course, historic, but also for something that was two months and two weeks -- or, really, two years -- in the making. In the evening, when my tears had been sufficiently shed and dried, between bites of Chicago-style hot dogs in honor of the occasion (poppyseed bun, vegetarian hot dog, yellow mustard, relish, diced onion, two sport peppers, two tomato wedges, a wedge of dill pickle, celery salt), I asked a friend if she had a similar experience. She hadn't. "Now the real work starts," she said grimly. "The inauguration is just a ceremony. Now he's got to deal with the economy, the war; the fun part is over, the waiting and planning is over." (I may be putting some words in her mouth) I considered that for a moment, before responding, "But I trust him now more than ever. I trust him to be able to handle all these things."

As we later admitted to a party attendee who *gasp* wasn't an Obama supporter (he was opposed to government and mainstream party candidates in general), we both "drank the Kool-Aid" long ago, but I think it wasn't until recently that I could see, through his various appointments and plans, how he would actually accomplish this daunting task that lay before him. Well, and us.

Before it was about winning the election. Now, it's about change.

We ask you to help us work for that day when Black will not be asked to get back, when Brown can stick around, when Yellow will be mellow, when the Red man can get ahead, man, and when White will embrace what is right. -- Reverend Joseph Lowery, adapted from the song "Get Back (Black, Brown, and White)" by Big Bill Broonzy.