Inauguration 44 ~~ Millions on the Mall

Washington, DC. January 20, 2009.

You saw it, right? Millions did. More. The whole world watched in utter amazement, as the seismic event unfolded. The country had elected a black man President. Incredible beyond belief.

“I feel the earth move under my feet,
I feel the sky come tumbling down, tumbling down…” Carole King

Millions descended on the Mall in the brutal pre-dawn wind chill. For hours the masses waited for Their Man to appear, to hear him again speak great swelling words of hope and change. Flags waved, tears flowed and smiles lighted the colorful tableau. He finally showed up, this cool hipster and techno-wizard that galvanized a youthful and enthusiastic Generation O. Status quo seemed shaken.

Barack H. Obama…who is this man? Even my spell check doesn’t yet recognize him. A man of words, for sure. Is he a god, a celebrity, a magician, a myth, a charlatan, an idealist? For now he defies definition, but we’ll soon know, just not today.

It’s interesting to watch large spectacles play out. They also defy definition, but engender questions. What’s going on? What do all these people expect? Why congregate in hostile elements to witness such an event?

Interviewers found no articulate answers, only the common theme of wanting to be a living part of this history, feeling good about being an American again.

Symbols emerged. President Obama’s blood-red tie was a ceremonial bone tossed to the “red state” losers, costing nothing. Biden wore a blue one…a politician’s between-the-lines-wink to the “blue states,” signifying where the next $1 trillion stimulus will go. Besides, some even say it’s Barney Frank’s favorite color.

In the Political Pomp Parade the Carters, outsiders still, totally ignored Bill and Hillary. I doubt either cared. Politics remains a nasty business.

Dick Cheney’s debut in the wheelchair was a nice touch. His “roll-out” was a grand metaphor for how the Bush Administration left things…weak, crippled and pitiful. Imagine if Tricky had exited on a gurney…now, that’d have been poetic!

I, the pragmatist, have some questions, like, “What happens when all these folks get home? Do they expect a check in the mail? What happens when the euphoria ends, reality returns, and nothing has really changed. The same old daily grind. Where is change and hope The Man had promised us?”

Bad news rules by day. A real change is needed. Who’s not looking at their own balance sheet and wondering, “How do I repair this damage?”

After the pomp and parades and processions, I joined the exodus, back to my own daily grind, expecting not much change, at least not soon. As I passed the hall mirror, it seemed to speak, “I see you’re looking at yourself…what do you see? What do you expect?” Frozen in the moment, I answered it, “I see just a man, a mere man with feet of clay.”

And then it dawned on me. The Man is not going to ‘fix” my problems, but I can…we all can. We can go back to work, quit bellyaching and move on to a better day again. And if that was what 44’s Inauguration was all about, I agree with it.

Who is The Man? Soon we’ll find out. But for now, like us, he’s only a mere man, with feet of clay, using words to unite and to find a better day. God Bless America, again.


Bud Hearn
January 22, 2009