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Each time I sit down to say something to you people, I stop, because I feel like I should be writing to you about our trip to the inauguration and not about how Henry told me last night that I was going to get older and older and taller and taller and that I would get witch hands and then went to get a book to show me what witch hands looked like, and then gestured to my hands and looked at me apologetically. 

I don't have anything important enough to say about the very important event I witnessed.  But, in the interest of giving the kids some record of what I witnessed, I'm going to tell you about it anyway.

Just after Obama was nominated, Adam booked our hotel room.  He's a planner, that guy. Then, after the election, when everyone was scrambling for rooms, there was nearly some sort of snafu where the hotel attempted not to honor our reservation. Adam was able to persuade them that this was not the ideal course of action.  I was reminded anew that I'm glad to be on the right side of Adam.

Adam went down a couple of days earlier than I did, which means that he got to spend two nights alone in a hotel room.  Bastard!  My train got in on Monday, but not quite in time to go to the Illinois State Society ball with him.  He took his childhood friend, the gorgeous Danielle.  See?

 

Yes, I took that photo.  You see, I got in late, and then I took a bath and put on my pajamas.  Just as I was climbing into bed, Adam called and asked me to come down to the lounge.  I attempted to demur, referring to my attire.  He told me just to put my coat on over my pajamas and just come down for a minute.  I said OK, forgetting for the moment that the only coat I had was my grandmother's mink, which is so conspicuous and looks so ridiculous on someone my age.  So, I met my husband and his beautiful date looking like this. 

 

I'm not proud.  And I realize I'm at great risk for sounding like oh-look-at-me-I'm-so-eccentric-and-adorable-in-spite-of-myself.  I just wanted my kids to know that you cannot go unnoticed in a mink and that it only draws attention to the fact that you're wearing pajamas in a bar.  If you do this, you are certain to run into both Jim Lehrer and Bob Bennett, and if you then sit down at a table where your husband is wearing a tuxedo and sitting with a similarly-attired female friend and your husband stands up and kisses you on the lips?  People will stare at you and then take your photo with their iphone. 

I forgot to mention that Adam's aunt Christina and uncle Fran stayed in the room with us on Monday night, and it was so much fun.  Poor uncle Fran had to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag, but I was consoled by his snoring that he wasn't faring too poorly down there.  Hi, Fran!

So, the next morning was the big event.  The inauguration.  It is true.  Everyone was in a good mood.  Even on the crowded metro, even in the freezing cold.  And, most impressively, even when standing, squeezed tightly, shoulder-to-shoulder in a throng of people that stretched for blocks and blocks, through a dark, cold tunnel in a line that did not move one foot for hours and hours.

If you haven't heard of this, it is because the mainstream media didn't want to blemish what was a great day that went off nearly without a hitch.  Nearly.  The hitch was called Purplegate.  We had purple tickets.  We were crushed together with some other merry souls, and I was afraid.  Seriously, if folks hadn't been so damned joyous, it could have been dangerous.  We were squeezed so tightly together that when an ambulance came down the street, I had to brace the girl in front of me slightly so that she could lift her feet up and back so that they wouldn't be run over.  The side of the ambulance was just a few inches from my face, and, obviously, even closer to that poor girl's.

After standing there for a couple of hours, Jesse Jackon squeezed past us.

 

We decided if Rev. Jackson was having that much trouble getting around that there wasn't much hope for us, so we started trying to squeeze our way out of the "line" to find another place to watch it -- you know, like on television.  But about a block after we emerged from the crowd, there was a little sign saying "purple gate" with an arrow.  We shrugged and took the turn, and we were through the gate within an hour.  It was another large crowd, but it was moving and orderly.  We learned later that none of the literally thousands of the folks in that first line got in.  Again, I felt guilty.  It was blind luck that we managed to get in. 

Of course, our view was pretty funny once we were in position.  So close -- yet behind a giant bush.

 

We had the good sense to hightail it back to the room after the swearing-in and watch the parade from bed, with a giant room service cheeseburger.

That night we went to the health care ball, which was not one of the official balls.  So, while we didn't get to watch the Obamas dance, we also didn't have to endure all the security and crowds that would have been involved.  And, the best part?  Jackson Browne.  Seriously.  Do you know how much I love Jackson Browne?  Some of you do.  And I got to see him play an intimate and surprisingly lengthy set in the National Museum of Natural History.  I would have made the trip just for this.

 

You see my crazily shining yellow head up there?  That picture looks just how I felt.  It was just dreamy.  And, speaking of dreamy?

 

Comments

[Stamford Talk]

I'm glad you posted about the inaug. Great pics of Adam- I didn't realize til now how much he and Henry looked alike. I love you in the mink and red boots!

[Jennifer]

Ah... now I can say I was there....

[scrob]

damn, adam looks handsome with that beard!

[betsey]

so glad you have finally captured your historic adventure!!! if i had been in that lounge i may have also snapped a photo of you in your mink-n-pj glam look, but only because i would have thought you were someone famous!

[lorraine]

THANK YOU for sharing!!!!Awesome...including the witch hands.
love l