Why I'm Not Going to the Inauguration

MY FAMILY AND I are staying home for Barack Obama's inauguration as President in three days. And so are most of the people I know who live here in the Washington area.

That may shock many others around the country who are, like us, excited about Obama's move to the Oval Office and awed by the historical moment (first African American President). Why, ask many friends and relatives of mine from out of town, wouldn't you take advantage of your proximity to history being made?

I'll let Yogi Berra answer. In response to a question about a popular New York restaurant, the great philosopher once said: "Nobody goes there anymore. It's too crowded."

That's what it comes down to for a lot of us here in the Washington, D.C., area. Sure, we'd love to go to the Inauguration. But, amid reports that more than two million people (down from the initial estimate of four million, which is roughly equal to the entire population of this metro area) will be coming from out of town to attend the festivities, it doesn't sound very appealing. Add onto that some extraordinary provisions police and inaugural event organizers are taking to ensure security and manage the flow of the crowds; huge swaths of the city will be closed to vehicular traffic, a number of Metro (the subway and elevate trains) stops near the National Mall will be shut, which means most of us will have to walk at least a mile to get there, and they are closing all the bridges across the Potomac River that tie Virginia to the District of Columbia, which will give us a sense of what it must of been like here during the Civil War. This could turn a historical moment a hysterical one.

Whether this will turn out to be true or not, the word is that if you don't get on the Metro by, say, 5 or 6 a.m. on the morning of the Inauguration, you will be out of luck. If you're one of the "lucky" ones who gets to the Mall early, you'll be standing for hours in the cold, and all you'll only be able to see the ceremony on one of the many giant TV screens that will be sprinkled from the Capitol to the Lincoln Memorial, the opposite end of the Mall (about two miles or so, I think). Slightly luckier will be those in the ticketed standing area, a privilege reserved mostly for those who have been spending every waking minute since Election Day going through every person they knew who might connected enough to get one of the relatively few available tickets, or who are connected themselves. (The royalty, who have tickets in the sit-down area, right in front of the swearing-in podium, are another story.)

For maybe a few days two weeks ago, I considered taking the whole family down very early and braving the whole thing. But the more I thought of the inconvenience, the fact that I can't stand being in big crowds and what I think is a fairly small pay off (the ability to watch the swearing-in on an outdoor TV screen and to say I was within two miles of Obama, even if I couldn't see him in person), it didn't add up. We're staying home that day.

I've informally surveyed friends and work colleagues over the last few weeks to see what they're doing. This may surprise many of you who don't live here, but hardly anyone I know from around here is going either. Even some who worked hard for Obama during his campaign and some who are political junkies and love this kind of stuff. Even they draw the line.

For them and myself, I've come up with a rationalization for staying home, other than we don't want to freeze our asses off and fight crowds all day long:

Yes, we should celebrate on a day like this. Every Presidential inauguration is historic in its own way, and this one surely is. But the real history will be made after the swearing-in, after the parade and after the dozens of inaugural balls that will go on that night (for a price, there were plenty of opportunities for those, but that's not my scene either).

Let's celebrate the history that will be made with every decision Obama makes, every piece of legislation he gets passed, every challenge this country faces and that he tries to address.

Sure, I'll probably be watching most of that on TV and reading about it in the paper. But, even from a distance, it will be fascinating to see how this new President shapes history, especially given the almost unprecedented preponderance of challenges we Americans and the rest of the world face. It's great that everyone will be paying close attention to every word of Obama's Inaugural Address, searching for some deep meaning in every gesture and facial expression on his and the podium dignitaries' faces, pointing out with almost chauvinistic pride the civil and dignified way in which power changes hands in this democracy. (TV commentators will have hours of air time to fill, so brace for all of this.)

But, like a wedding, what counts is what happens for a long time after the big party ends and the real work begins. That's the part that deserves our close scrutiny and constant presence.

Again, this is my rationalization. Also, I'm trying not to sound snotty here. If others want to crowd their way down to the Mall and freeze, I truly applaud their determination and hope they have a great time. I have a feeling they will be happy to have done it, unless the weather turns on them (the forecast, as of today, is mid-30s and cloudy, which isn't too bad). But I'm happy with my choice, too.

Jeff

Comments

[Rinky]

Me too. I'm staying home as well.
There are buses leaving from our town to take big groups of people on package deals to PA where they have hotel rooms. I'm happy for those rejoicing, (many senior citizens)but I wonder if they know what they are in for. At least it gives the TV stations good material and PA is close by, isn't it?

[Audrey]

Growing up I watched a significant amount of modern history unfold with my family sitting in front of our average size television in suburban Chicago. The moon walk happened while our neighbors and our family gathered around the t.v late into the night. Similarly, this part of history will happen for my family and me sitting in front of an average size television set with friends in Takoma Park, MD.

[Becky Klein Ault]

Common sense tells me I don't want to be part of the Crowd either. For others coming in from out of town, I am certain they will enjoy the once in a lifetime experience. For me, the sights, crowds, street closures, and, yes, the chilly weather all are things I believe I have experienced before and certainly plan to live long enought to experience again.

[Sherwood Hill]

Hi Jeff, although it was much warmer at the time, I felt much the same in early July of 1976 at the time of the bicentennial - - but I took my family to D.C. anyway and I'm so glad I did. All the best to you and your family.

[Sherwood Hill]

Hi Jeff, although it was much warmer at the time, I felt much the same in early July of 1976 at the time of the bicentennial - - but I took my family to D.C. anyway and I'm so glad I did. All the best to you and your family.

[nan]

Just my .02, but in my opinion you have focused here on externals and thus missed the nub of the matter. We went downtown, braving crowds and cold, barricades and long walks, not for the "payoff", as you put it, of getting a closer or better view of the ceremony - quite the reverse, in fact! Rather, the payoff was precisely to be PART of it, one of the vast crowd. We had the opportunity to watch from the comfort of an office at 1st and Constitution but declined it to be part of the masses on the Mall. The people, the millions of people, THEY were the point - not Obama. As he says, "It's not about me - it's about you!" We took our 9 year old and spent 6 hours hanging with folks from all over, sharing blankets or offering cocoa, trading "war stories" of how we'd managed to get there, comparing everything from Obama buttons to life stories. No one was cranky or unpleasant, even in the massive wave of humanity that simultaneously swept away from the Mall after the ceremony. We wept together, cheered together, prayed together, booed Cheney together, and sang "Hey Hey Hey/Goodbye" as Bush flew overhead. Black, white, and all colors in between were, on this day, one. We Had Overcome.
What can I say... you missed it, man.