That picture pretty much represents the moment it sank in that the country had elected Barack Obama as its next president. Immediately thereafter I felt a compulsion to attend the inauguration that took me a bit by surprise. I wastd little time putting requests in to my various elected representatives for tickets — three: for Susan, my mom and me — and I started scoping out airfares and hotel costs.
Reality soon set in. My humble pleas for ticket consideration went unanswered, and the only rooms at inns in our nation’s capitol wre going to cost a LOT of money. The cheapest the four-day trip was going to set us back was something like $3,000. That’s not counting the time off work, the pet sitters… food.
And so I let most of the dream go, begrudingly so.
The last nail came last week, when I finally got an email response from Congressman Xavier Becerra’s office about my November 5 ticket request. In so many words, it said “Sorry, can’t help a constituent out,” and that’s just as well.
I suppose had I been reeeeeeally motivated I woulda/coulda found a way and gone. After all, there’s a kid from nearby Highland Park who biked across country to be there and I’m sure there are a helluva lot of other people gathered in DC right now who didn’t let nonresponsive politicians, or responsibilities, or costs, or the lack of convenient lodging (or any for that matter) kill their desire to be an eyewitness to history. Good for them.
As for me, here in LA I’ve already hung the stars-and-stripes from the front porch, and a little later I’m going to put on my red, white and blue bike jersey on and roll downtown to take in some of the festivities leading up to the inauguration of Barack Hussein Obama as the 44th President of the United States.
Then I’ll go to work.
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