Inauguration Day

I usually waste time on set-up and then tell the story in two paragraphs. Straight to it this time.

We had initially been given Silver tickets, located behind the reflecting pool, and including the front of the mall. Awesome tickets.



Right before we left Christi’s office for the night on Monday, a good friend in the office handed us Blue (South Standing on the House of Representatives side) tickets. I was psyched for this. The 2008 election was the first time the candidate I voted for had won. Had I voted in 2000 (I was unable to vote due to job requirements), this would have been the second time. That said, I would have been excited to attend ANY Inauguration, and would have been energized to go see Senator John McCain become president. But maybe not this energized.





We spent the night at my brother-in-law's place. He and his girlfriend Jill live less than a mile from where Mark and Beth lived in northern VA. We would have stayed with the Skubis’ had they not ditched us for Europe a few years back! I did not get to sleep until 1:30 AM, because I was excited. I woke up at 4:30 AM, and got dressed. Thermal shirt, thermal pants, jeans, tennis shoes, sweatshirt (Navy, of course), gloves, cold weather beanie, single pair of socks (I regretted that later), and my winter coat (which I never buttoned). I wanted to leave at 5 AM, but we didn’t leave until 5:20 AM. Family, you know. I expected crowds, and boy was I right.





We stopped by Best Buns (local bakery) for some box lunches and breakfast and hit I-95 towards the city. Thanks to Christi’s job that day (drive her boss’ daughter home after the Parade), we had been given a special pass allowing vehicular access to some major roads. Of course, once across the 14th Street bridge, roads that were expected to be open were not, so we diverted to South Capitol street (by the new baseball park in SE). The crowds were already very large, and we followed some taxis until we got near Independence. I popped out and quizzed a Capitol Police officer, who was very helpful for the first and last time that day. We got onto the “special roads” and parked in Christi’s office building. Which was on the Senate side, and not particularly close to our Blue Gate. We dropped the lunches and junk in her office area, ate breakfast, used the “facilities”, and started the long walk to the Gate (located right next to the DHHS – Health and Human Services – building) at about 6:15 AM. Crowds were massive already, and we started the walk in pre-dawn light, and finished as the sun was coming up. We followed the line for the Blue Gate for about 4 blocks until we found the end.



The Capitol Dome was on the other side of the US Botanical Gardens building, which was a nice picture. It would be a LONG wait. Gates were set to open at 8 (or 9, depending on who you believed). We chatted with some of our neighbors, and the temperature stayed about 20 degrees. With wind. I started to need to pee at about 7:30, finally asking a CP officer where restrooms were. Either blocks away at a McD’s (which I’m sure would be empty), or in a port-o-potty on the other side of security. Tough crap for me. I’ll wait.





The line finally started moving a bit after 8. Unfortunately (and I could write a tome about this), the line was uncontrolled, and some people just ran to the gate, later complicating the process immeasurably. We stayed in line, because it was the “right thing to do”, and we eventually paid for that decision. We slowly wrapped about the HHH building (DHHS – Hubert Humphrey) until we could see the gate. But it appeared that a LOT more people were going towards the gate that just our single line (about 8 people across). In between buildings, it was colder than usual, probably just below 20 with the wind chill. But we were all still optimistic. Though we were moving slowly, and the clock was not. We got slightly separated from JD and Jill (Christi’s brother and his girlfriend), and that distance grew as we got closer.

We inched closer to the front, and by about 10:30 AM, I accepted the very distinct possibility that we might not make it in. It became clear that the line was a sucker’s bet, but that epiphany went unformed until we were well into the scrum heading into the single entrance to the Blue metal detectors. By about 11 AM, we were still about thirty feet from the entrance and hardly moving at all. We couldn’t see JD and Jill anymore, and no cell phones were working. Spirits were STILL high, but I was nervous. I wanted to be there. Rumors flew that the gate would shut at 11:30 AM. Come to find out, random barriers were up, funneling some people sideways, while enabling others much faster access. Only a handful of USCP (US Capitol Police) could be seen, and NONE were directing traffic or facilitating traffic. They were simply ensuring no one was hurt (and to their credit…barely… no one was hurt). Entrance was a free-for-all. Honestly, no one was hurt because the crowd was peaceful and happy. The CP had little to do with it. The gate was literally two normal doors wide. On the other side were the detectors, and we knew we could not make it before 11:30 AM.





Christi asked what I wanted to do, and I love her very much for staying with me and letting me decide. She was cold and tired, and our feet were killing us, and we might miss the whole damn thing sitting here. But I wanted to stay in that line until they shut the gate in my face or until we made it. It was 11:30 now, and we were still in the line, though we could see the exit. It was snaking around at one point, while people were piling in one section at another. But I managed to muscle Christi and I through to the final line by 11:40 AM. Security was a breeze, and there were the crappers, right in front of the Botanical Gardens. Christi again waited, while I whizzed for 90 straight seconds. And then we ran towards the Capitol. We found a spot where the jumbotron was beneath the Dome and we had a good view, watching as VP Biden was sworn in. Aretha sang her bit (in a crazy hat, but what can you say to Aretha) and Rev. Warren gave the Invocation, but maybe not in that order. I did tear up a bit during Aretha’s rendition of “My Country ‘Tis of Thee”. Warren’s comments were OK, but he went on too long. At some point President Bush was announced, and he did not get booed where we were, but I’m certain he did elsewhere on the Mall. He didn’t get many claps either. He looked exhausted.

And then it was time. The crowd roared, and Chief Justice Roberts swore in President Obama. Our audio was hosed, so it was not clear that CJ Roberts bumbled it a bit at the time. But it was done, and the crowd was deafening. We had a new president. It was still cold, but the sun was shining, and it was a pretty clear day. I kept looking the other way at the crowd, and often the jumbotron showed how many people were actually there. I could not tell from where we stood. The view from the podium must have been glorious.





And finally, what I really wanted to be there for. The Inaugural Address itself is very meaningful, because it sets the stage for the country under the new President’s leadership. As with the Inauguration itself, it is the exact moment our country fought for. The ability to choose our own leader. And for our president to tell the people how he was going to lead, and where he was going to lead them. President Obama spoke for 18 minutes, and the audio wavered a bit, and I enjoyed his address. The Washington quote touched me deeply, and overall I thought it was a good first address. I didn’t agree with every sentiment he expressed, but I agreed with where he said he would be going together. Later, I’d reread it and find a lot more to like. A lot more. It wasn’t a great address, because the proof is in the pudding and not the recipe. I’d love for time to prove me wrong. I still am not sure many in our country are willing to do everything that is asked of them, to take that responsibility. A lot of people want to push the “Obama” button and have him fix everything. But his conviction won me over. On a superficial level, the man is a brilliant orator. Even better than he is a writer. He has a dazzling smile, and a voice that join wisdom and warmth.





As it ended, Christi wanted to head back to find her brother and Jill, so we missed the poem and the convocation. But who wants to follow President Obama’s first speech anyway? I didn’t come for those.

The walk back was easier. We essentially retraced our steps. We were able to cut right behind the Capitol, and as we were nearly centerline with the Dome, we saw a crowd cheering lustily. Marine One was revving those blades, and the new President and First Lady were saying goodbye to the old. I got a picture for my friends, since I know they will treasure this image. I am a bit torn myself. I too was more than ready for President Bush to be Former President Bush. I wanted a new leader, and a new vision. For a moment though, I remembered that President Bush served in good faith. I remembered that he endured a lot of unjustified criticism, albeit along an even larger amount of justified criticism. The tenor of that criticism near the end disturbed me, though. I remembered how unwavering he was after 9/11, and I appreciated that. There was a time when he was almost as loved as President Obama was that day. But that time was long past, and so was our faith in him. I was happy to see him go. I would do anything, however, to have looked into him as the helicopter lifted off. I am almost jealous of the power of the emotions he was feeling at that moment, probably very, very similar to those that our new President must have faced as he finished the oath less than an hour before.

The helicopter looped over Washington DC twice, and then he was gone.





We finished our walk to Christi’s building, meeting JD and Jill. They had gotten in at 11:20, and so we were happy they were able to see it. We went up and rested our feet, warmed up, and took in some overwhelmingly fawning coverage. A few hours later (still at the office), I finally sat down and read the Inaugural Address, and it actually spoke to me quite a bit. Nuances that were lost thanks to crappy audio became apparent. It was an address that spoke directly to the source of my patriotism. Even more importantly, it was the most inclusive political speech ever given. There was no them. There was only “us”, at every turn. Many of the audience (some quite near me) were wrapped up in the racially historic nature of the day, and I understand that. I was wrapped up in the universality of the man.

This is a man I will be proud to have speak for the country. This is a man that promises to resist the petty partisan temptations, and remember how America has succeeded. In my head, I know we will fall pretty short of many of his lofty goals. But it won’t be because of President Obama. So in my heart, I believe him anyway.





(If you look at the bottom image, the very bottom left is the US Botanical Gardens. About a half-inch up and an inch over is a small covered building casting a shadow north. Directly to the northwest of it, there is a small circle. That is a raised garden spot (all dead now) where Christi and I stood.)

Independence

It was easy to be an Independent during the past 8 years

The President wasn't a very good speaker and inspired (very) little confidence, his administration seemed to trip over themselves at nearly every turn, and together they presided over catastrophe after catastrophe. But they were not alone. Paired with an ignorant or ineffectual Congress for both terms (regardless of political make-up), the nominally accepted bipolar political parties moved farther and farther apart. The rhetoric began to sear into the permanent areas of my brain. I eventually defaulted to abject horror when subjected to seeing any national politician on television.

As the media began to lean on Former President Bush (and yes, it is nice to say that...I will eventually provide some defense for this beleaguered sin-eater), I eventually rejected their facile condemnations and constant barrages. Often I push against conventional wisdom until I find a place I can be happy with it, and suspect many do the same. Conventional wisdom decided Fmr President Bush (FPB, I'll never type that out again) was the worst president EVER, and this was/is our worst crisis EVER, and time will tell. I'm happy to say good riddance, but not ashamed to say that I wish he and his family well. I own up to my part of the sins of the country, and do not merely thrust them upon him and walk away. But I'll save any understanding or consideration of the Bush presidency for another time. At it stands, it is a failure.

So lets get to my "point". Yesterday was a swirling conflict of emotions for me. Being independent is nice. Instead of a single political party to deride, you are blessed with two. By removing your affiliation, you enable yourself to navigate the good and the bad of both partisan prisms; to be your own person, so to speak. This does not come without price. And it came due on a momentous day.
I happened upon the simplest analogy ever late last night. Being politically independent is like being unable to love. There was such passion and energy yesterday, such rampant enthusiasm...it was new love. It was a requited crush writ impossibly large.

And it certainly stirred in me, and swept me up often (and rightly so), before my hard heart yanked me earthward, time and again. It was not the crowd that fueled me. I thrilled at the outpouring of patriotism and yearning, for certain, though I do wonder at the permanence of it, the commitment towards it.

So I don't get to revel in the day with the same fervor as my friends on the left. It is a bit sad being left out; all the more because I think their joy towards the new President is justified. I'll share my thoughts on the new President (as if anyone cares...everyone has an opinion, and most are similar). But perhaps the engine of my enthusiasm for him will be intriguing!

Return of the King

I reactivated this specifically to share my thoughts and pictures from the Inauguration of our 44th President with my friends. I might even try to keep it up after that, because it is cathartic and pleasant, though I regret having less interaction with the 4 people who would potentially read this. So give me a few hours, and we'll make this happen.

Until then:

Clark (age 5) reminding me why I do not kill him:

I look forward to sharing the adventures of an independent during a Democratic administration!

UNITED 93

Before:

I thought I wouldn't see United 93, but after a discussion with my father I felt compelled to see it. My father, who likes generic action and sci-fi pictures, felt obligated to go see it. That surprised me. I thought I might wait until the DVD, but decided I couldn't wait. I love movies, and this is a movie that should be seen.

That said, I was not looking forward to it. I DON'T think it's too soon. I DO completely trust the director and the studio to get it as right as possible. It doesn't affect my personal or political feelings either way. I just know how badly it's going to hurt. The only relatable film is The Passion, which was a soul-draining and exhausting affair. But 9/11 is etched into my memories, the cruxifiction. I'm fairly laid back, but I couldn't get through the opening section of the 9/11 Commission Report. I was bawling. So, I dreaded seeing the film.

Day of:

I'm not going to actually review United 93, so please bear with me. The film is unbearable, and gets more and moreso approaching the conclusion. But in the end, it provided a clarity long since lost in the 4.5 years since the day. I had a knot in my stomach, and it grew and grew, and I simply couldn't cry it away, though I certainly tried. In the middle of the film, it was enough that I found myself looking at the margins of the images...not quite looking away, but having a hard time concentrating.

1) It's very well-made.
2) There is no party line or slogan.
3) There is no overt audience manipulation in the direction or editing.

It's been a long time since 9/11. We've had 2 elections since then, and countless reminders, and new (and reshuffled) Departments, and thousands of "news" stories to dull the memory a bit, to gloss it, to put it in the backseat. And rightfully so...you can't live with that horror every day. Humans endure with such tricks. But a solid reminder every now and then is a very good thing. There are two stories in the film...the morning unfolding for the FAA and the military, and the events on Flight 93. One informs the other, but the stories never cross.

It reminded me of the uncertainty of that day...no one knew the seismic shift that had occurred, and we were all very scared. It was valuable to see that again, without the government and media bywords we've used to distance ourselves from how we felt. I felt like shit, and I feel like shit now. It's not closure. It's not a silly call to arms. It's just a call to remember how we felt, and why we felt that way, and how we responded.

It doesn't stack up as a film. There is no narrative plot, no characterization, and no "flair". It's fly on the wall. The sets were exceptional, the performances were good, not great. It felt workmanlike, but there is no razzle dazzle.

I thought it was all for the better. The story needs no enhancing, no directorial flourishes. It is not Hollywood at all.

Today:

I can't live with it every day. It's simply too much, and my heart goes out to all the families that lost a loved one to 9/11, to the conflicts that followed, to the USS Cole and earlier (mostly forgotten) attacks. But I can feel those emotions closer to the surface. It's makes me both more intolerant and more forgiving of the government. But the film isn't about assigning responsibility. It's not about fake hero-building. It's not swelling music and a last stand. It's a window to a horrible emotional state. It does have heroism and courage. But it's earned and real.

I will buy it, and I might even watch it again, because I don't want to forget that emotional state. I don't need the film for it (and neither do many of you), but it's a nice focus. The images, the confusion, the overwhelming unreality of it all was captured. And that's my impression. It's overwhelming.

If you dig around, you can find the names of everybody on United 93.

Immigration

I saw United 93. It's deserving of a thoughtful and measured post, so I plan on saving it and letting the film sink in. I will say it's excruciatingly painful to watch. To say it as quickly as possible, it made me feel the way I felt September 11th, 2001 all over again. In many ways, that's a GOOD thing.

Back to immigration:

I don't get nearly as hot and bothered about this as many people. As usual, I end up in the middle. I definitely supported the Kennedy-McCain bill that Reid allowed to be shot down for political advantage, even if it was the best possible outcome. But that's neither here nor there. The key word in illegal immigrant (not undocumented*) is not immigrant. I love immigrants. Except for 100% Native Americans, we're all immigrants, some even forced. The key word is illegal. There is a right way, a wrong way, and a legal way to enter the country. Unfortunately, the right way hasn't been made yet, thanks to our politicians. but until then, the answer is the legal way.

This might be seen as highly conservative, but I think English should be our national language. Our communication unifies us, forces assimilation, breaks down barriers. It still allows citizens to treasure their culture, and speak whatever at home. But a national language would assuage many of those who fear we are losing our national identity and culture as the melting pot spills over. Other cultures strengthen us, enhance us, make us better. But only when they assimilate with society. Language is the biggest barrier of all. Voting, driving tests, etc...English. This would require funding to support English language teaching as a part of the process. I don't want a financial burden on new immigrants...just a cultural one. I want it to unite, not divide.

More on United 93 later. But see it if you think you can handle it. Please.

Happy Easter

I promised a while back to discuss The Passion of the Christ. I thought it was arguably the best film of 2004, though it was woefully ignored at the Oscars for forces beyond the actual film itself. Today is NOT the best day to post about it, of course...Good Friday is. But I missed that, so you get my thoughts on Easter.

I've only seen the film once, pulled to a showing the day after it was released. I love movies. I have my favorite genres and themes, but great movies come from everywhere, and some movies simply HAVE to be seen. I don't regularly attend church. I find a convergence between philosophy and spirituality, and that's where I let my mind wander. I consider myself just barely on the dividing line between Christian and agnostic, interested in the intent and message moreso than the concept of being saved. It was argued by many that The Passion was intended for converts only. It does not discuss the life of Jesus, his virgin birth, his Apostles, or anything else outside of the events of the Passion itself. The title is an accurate depiction of the film. But I think the film does have some value for the atheist. But it does need the viewer to know the story at least.

There is not a defined narrative. I considered it experiential, like Black Hawk Down or the opening of Saving Private Ryan. It goes for a simple "you are there" approach to historical events. It assumes you know about the life of Jesus, his purpose, and the Biblical background of the most important event in Christiandom. Thanks to some Sunday school, I knew a little bit. I did not feel a strong connection as a Christian, but I did as a human. The notion of the Passion is that an innocent human suffers for his fellows, to spare them, to save them. That theme has endured since well before Christianity, and it permeates all great storytelling. Gibson's camera is unflinching, and he simply demonstrates a horrific, barbaric act...meaningful to me because it was done, not just to Jesus (though he suffers greatly, moreso most than most who are crucified), but to countless people, guilty and innocent alike. So, in effect, Jesus does represent all of us, children of God, whether you buy the mystical aspects or not. And that is why the film worked for me. In a nutshell.

The direction is beautiful. As the events on-screen get unbearable, Gibson allows a safety valve to pop, and a flashback occurs...to the Last Supper, to the speech at Galilee, to Jesus and his mother (who acts as a sort of surrogate for his Father as well - the most spiritual of relationships -- parent to child). These respites are necessary for the audience. The scourging and crucifixion, the demeaning and hostility is an mirror to the worst excesses of human nature.

The criticism is a charge of anti-semitism. To use another film analogy, The Passion is like the dark force tree on Dagobah in Empire Strikes Back. It only possesses what you take in with you. Anti-semitism is there subjectively, if you look for it and interpret it. but the deeper message is far beyond such petty failings. Gibson ensured it was his hand that nailed Jesus to the cross (that was his appearance), as a symbolic point that the Jews (if you'll excuse my informality) are no more responsible than every other person. The entire point of the Christian faith demands all are guilty. Foolish religious leaders have used some biblical history to blame Jews for their own purposes, but it is immaterial to this story. The interpretation is there...but you have to make it. The director said it was not anti-semitic. Mel Gibson is many things, but he's not a liar. He's very direct and honest, and I believe him when he says the film is not anti-semitic. Beyond that, a culture war raged in America in 2004, with two polarizing films. This was the "red state" film, as designated by the media and bloggers. They were wrong, short-sighted, ignorant, and petty. But that's their interpretation...see the dark side cave analogy.

Why, two years later, am I talking about it. The film resonates. Jesus represents minorities, gays, the poor, the down-trodden, the marginalized. The power of the film is the strength and conviction of it's subject. He is not just willing to die to save those he loves. He is willing to have God turn his back, and suffer to the limits of what humans can suffer. I can ignore the spirituality of it, the biblical connections, and understand the purity of that.

Another note, the film itself is beautiful to watch. Caleb Deschanel was the cinematographer, and the film looks like a Carvaggio painting. Keep in mind...this director also won an Oscar once.

That said, it's an atypical film...very demanding of the audience. There is precious little context in the film...you must provide it. And it is excruciating to watch (which is why I've only seen it once). If you've stayed away for political reasons...maybe give it a shot. Just remember Yoda's message :)

And why do we celebrate Easter with jelly beans and chocolate bunnies?!?! What frigging sense does that make??

Long Time No Blog

You'd think I have a lot to say...immigration continues to illustrate the realities of our country's economic system, the Duke rape case is illuminating some far deeper class issues, and some great movies just came out on DVD.

I have had random thoughts here and there, but nothing worth anyone's time. So I have spared the rod and spoiled the children.

But even without much to say, I wanted to say it. I considered dropping some chauvinism, but that's my go-to. No need, as it's usually ignored :) So I am going to MSNBC blind, picking a random story, and commenting on it.

Stand by...most of these look like dogs.

1) Google defends supporting some censure in China, which is apparently news because they won't cooperate in the US. Part of me is angry, because cooperation could be key support in actual national security. But that's their call. It is totally consistent because Google is a BUSINESS. They have no wiggle room in China. Expecting them to be the bastion of free speech is ridiculous. They either comply, or they lose millions of dollars. Does it make them hypocritical? No...it makes them a business. A self-interested, profit driven business.

2) Muslim hardliners attack the Playboy HQ in Indonesia. Scratch another country off of my visit list. Why do I care? Because these fundamentalists are psychopathic dark agers. Didn't they read the articles?!?!?

3) Famed Indian actor dead...RIOTS IN THE STREETS!! Another scratch off.

4) As for sports, it's all Bonds, all the time. Baseball is the worst TV sport in the world. They've been juicing for years, and cheating was rampant before them. In a sport built on stats, cheating sort of destroys the myth...but no one cares. Neither do I.

Well, it's something...

V for Vicious Cycle

Went to see V twice this weekend. I had promised both people trips, they did not overlap, and I was happy to pay the money twice. In turning the film over in my mind, I stumbled across a new paradigm that may be old hat to my illustrious readers, but it struck me as true and deep.

Some want to paint the film as American Liberals vs. American Conservatives. The film certainly draw some auspicious connections, but in reality strays quite a bit down the path.

I wrote this Sunday morning:

The filmmakers upgraded the war (from the graphic novel), and used some ties to current situations, but nothing more involved than that which could be used as a framework. The political framework of the government was not representative of any major political party in power in any major First World country. It was an extreme, taken to extremes, to prove a point. Any serious connection to current events would have to be made by the viewer, and would lead to a discussion far beyond the point of the film. Political discussions inevitably devolve into partisan corners and pointless bickering, because such conversations (like religion, the other taboo topic) are deeply personal, and woefully inadequate over the faceless and anonymous internet.

[b]Why I loved the film is that it points out that an imbalance in the system (of human interaction), which is ALWAYS dynamic...the system is never settled...will find a way to correct itself. Too much freedom (the opposite of V) leads to anarchy and chaos, and forces the people to find a viable social contract to prevent the excesses from destroying innocent lives. But that's not what the film is about. V is about the pendulum on the other side...too little freedom, too much control...and the effects on the human psyche and soul. As before, an opposite reaction occurs, and humanity finds a way.[/b] I found the film hopeful. It certainly keeps to the philosophical underpinnings of the Matrix trilogy. I loved that the film celebrated the individual, through art, through expression, through outrage.

I was happy I wrote that before I read an interview today where the author validated my opinion, stating that V (the novel at least) is about anarchu vs. fascism. Two ends of the spectrum. It did teach me that I know very little about the history of societal contracts and the psychology that drives them. The film did explicitly state the universal law...for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This applies to much more than physics.

As Martin Luther King stated...hate can not drive out hate. It merely multiples it, breeds it. Only love can drive out hate. Love begets love.

Sappy, but I appreciate any film that allows me a glimpse of the divine.

For what it's worth, the film is also very well made, features two awesome performances (Stephen Rea and Hugo Weaving), and a good one from Natalie. It is ballsy and wears it's intentions on it's sleeve. With some sweet action scenes :)