My inauguration

I consider myself extremely fortunate. My time in the military has been extremely fortunate as well. The places Uncle Sam has taken me and the people he has introduced me to have led to some great adventures.

DC is a cool town. I often complain about the weather and cost, but living in the nation’s capital has its perks. Unique ethnic cuisine. Kickball at the Washington Monument. A Saturday spent looking at the ol’ Declaration of Independence. The inauguration of America’s first black president. The Watergate.

I’ve never cared so much about a political campaign. I think our country is at a crossroads and I thing the next four years are crucial. So I cared. I consider myself a moderate who leans left. I supported Obama since early in the primaries because I thought he would be best at bringing us together as a nation. His campaign was a journey. His proposals made sense to me. I defended them. And I defended him. At times it caused friction with some of those who are close to me. They cared about their side. I cared about mine. Shit happens. In the end blood is thicker than politics.

My guy won and this made me happy. I’m used to voting for the losers, although I didn’t really care for the past two losers too much. I cared about this one. I haven’t cared about something this much in a long time.

When Obama won, I had full intentions of being on the national mall for the inauguration. I got the day off right away. As the weeks passed, the radio airwaves filled with warnings about the crowds and the hassle that it was going to be. DC area residents were advised to stay at home. Not a chance. Last week, however, a good friend of mine who works for the sergeant major of the Army offered my girlfriend, Sarah, and me tickets to the Commander in Chief ball, one of the 10 official balls the president was going to attend. I leaped at the opportunity. We decided not to attend the inauguration during the day because getting in and out of the city twice would be too much of a hassle.

On Monday, Sarah and I went to an art show in Georgetown with pieces highlighting the grassroots campaign that helped get Obama elected. It was cool. Georgetown seemed like it does most Saturdays. Crowded. Rich people. But where we got off the metro, near the Kennedy Center, a carnival atmosphere filled the air.

I know DC is always crazy during inaugurations. Haven’t been in the city for one before, but I know that the crowds are normal. Regardless, there was a buzz in the air and you could feel that you were in the presence of history.

After the show, we walked to the Lincoln Memorial so Sarah could meet a high school friend of hers who had traveled to DC. I’ve never seen a line at the Lincoln Memorial. The crowds were thick. And there were porta potties. I’ve never seen so many porta potties in my life. It was my Shangri-La. I have the bladder of a small woodland creature. I peed several times not because I had to but because I could. It was glorious.

It was also cold, and the traffic, sirens, humvees, busses and crowds were making me grateful I wouldn’t have to come down the next day.

I woke up the next day around 6. I had a friend staying the night so that he didn’t have to drive through DC that day to get to work. I don’t have TV, but I found a couple websites that were streaming the event live. I honestly didn’t think it was going to be as crowded as there were saying. I thought the frigid temperature and the ominous threats of crowds would drive a good chunk away. So when I turned on the video feed and saw that sea of people at 7 in the morning I was shocked. It was amazing. I also saw the lines for the metro trains. I was grateful I was drinking hot coffee in my warm living room with a bathroom 20 feet away.

And then they announced the mall was full and was being closed off. For those who have not been to DC – the mall is a beast. To fill it up a couple hours before the event even started was impressive.

For the next couple hours, Sarah, my friend and I watched history on my 22-inch Mac screen along with the rest of the world.

It was then time to get duded up. I threw on my uniform with a bow tie. Sarah got a little more into it. At about 3 o’clock, we hopped on the metro to head to Chinatown – about a 30-minute train ride. The train got more packed as we got into the city. Sarah and I looked good. We looked real good. And we were a little early for the ball crowd. A lady complimented us and we struck up a little conversation. They had traveled from California. They talked about how cold and cramped it was but how awesome it was for them. They looked miserable and cold but gleamed when talking about what they experienced. They asked which ball we were headed to and were impressed with our response. I felt very lucky.

Chinatown is located a few blocks off the parade route which had yet to happen. They had the exits before and after Chinatown blocked off so that exit was packed. As we ascended from the subway, the carnival took over again. The sirens, crowds, cheering and music filled the brisk air. We had some time to kill before the ball and we were meeting a friend, so we found an Irish pub. Good call. Having an Irish coffee in a crowded pub with a humvee parked right outside is comforting. We watched the parade there and then headed to the ball.

The ball was intended for enlisted and junior officers. It wasn’t an open bar. Smart move. About 2,000 guests filled the beautiful National Building Museum. There wasn’t a bad seat in the place. Wounded warriors from Walter Reed were in attendance as were family members of the fallen. Holes opened quickly in the crowd for our wounded comrades to pass through.

It was an affair I won’t forget. Biden talked to some troops in Iraq through a teleconference. Obama talked to some troops in Afghanistan. Barack and Michelle danced with a Marine and Soldier. They were 20 feet away. I thought about those freezing Californians on the train and how far they traveled knowing they would probably only see him on a teleprompter. I felt very lucky. The Obamas were greeted very warmly by the crowd. Yes, the military is more conservative than not. But the excitement was no less in that ballroom as we greeted our new boss. He left the stage with the troops chanting his name.

Then Bon Jovi came on. I do not support Bon Jovi since he started frosting his hair.

We stepped back out into the cold air drunk off of whiskey and the moment. Bag pipes pierced the night. I love pipes and they were just off the path back to the train. The piper was outside the pub we were in earlier. We decided to stop for a night cap. I stood outside to listen to the piper for awhile. He played the Army song for me. I did a little jig. We ended up talking for awhile. He had been to Gitmo to play for the troops there. He was a staunch republican. We discussed some of our differences in opinion. I told him I thought it was a good day to be a soldier. We both agreed it was a great day to be an American.

I’m not a cynic. I have a lot of hope for the next four years. I am a realist though. I know the honeymoon is going to end. I know Obama’s not going to keep all of the promises he made the last couple of years. I know I won’t agree with everything he does or says. I think he’s done a good job in the transition. I like the fact that he has pissed off some of the left. But Tuesday wasn’t a day to worry about policies. Republicans and democrats alike stood side by side and recognized what this moment meant for us as Americans. It was moving to say the least. It’s a new day and I’m smiling with the sunrise.