In Which We Go To The Inauguration.

I would say that I have no words.........


...but some of you actually know me and know that I *always* have words- frequently too many of them.

I Actually Kind Of Like Long Lines
We got to the inauguration very early- we found the purple ticket gate line at 5:00 A.M. and met a lovely bunch of folks who were already there waiting. We traded the usual "hi, how are yous",and the "where are you froms", and started cracking jokes and telling stories and jumping up and down to keep warm and generally having a terrific, if freezing , waiting-on- line time. We were toward the front of the line and assumed we would be in good position to get a very good spot at the ceremony. We were all congratulating ourselves on getting there without much trouble and being in such a great location and having the coveted purple ticket.
Even The Best Laid Plans
After a couple of hours our nice little line which was now stretching a very long way behind us, started falling apart. We had no idea what was happening or why it was happening. We started out in an orderly line about three folks deep and ended up being in a crush of people. There were moments when this was just a little scary. The line wasn't moving, there were no cops around, no volunteers, no one to answer our questions- just a lot of folks who thought they were going to be on the lawn of the capitol. Eventually it all just fell apart and we came very close to just giving it up. Our little original Five A.M. Line community had been split apart by the huge swell of the crowd, which was so packed together that we couldn't even reach our hands up out of our pockets- it was really a disaster waiting to happen.

But Oddly Enough I Wasn't Scared
Even though we were packed together like the proverbial sardines and in a potentially disastrous situation in a crushing crowd of people who were on the verge of being very disappointed , it was -fun. In the nearly six hours of waiting in sub freezing temperatures I heard very few words of anger- everyone was just incredibly *nice* and, in fact, were making the entire experience oddly enjoyable. Folks took care of each other, folks cracked jokes, every time we surged en masse toward the gate (which could eventually be seen by my very tall husband), someone would intone "The surge is working!"- and eventually it was our turn to go through security and end up on the Capitol lawn just in time for the ceremony. Sadly, we surged past many other folks who also held the prized purple tickets but who were unable to get in and were chanting,"Let us in!!"
We Couldn't Have Done it Without Help
We never would have gotten through the gate if two of our early morning friends, lovely and funny African American women from Missouri,from whom we had become separted in the sad demise of the Five A.M. line, hadn't seen us in what became known as the Ten A.M. line and encouraged us to try another access point in this sea of chilly humanity. So , hey, nice Missouri women-if you're out there, thanks. You rock. Hope you got in ok too.
The Ceremony
It was beautiful. I am someone who usually only goes to DC to protest things. This time I was part of a great affirmation. I actually sang along to the National Anthem . Those of you who know me well are probably laughing hysterically as you read this. I did. I sang that unsingable song along with everyone else. I have not felt that kind of pride since John Glenn orbited the earth when I was nine. And who knew that " My County Tis Of Thee" could blow my socks right off? Oddly enough, the sun which had been behind clouds most of the morning, came out just as the ceremony was starting and went back behind clouds after the ceremony ended.
The Best Thing About the Inauguration
The ceremony was great, Obama's speech was wonderful, all the pomp and ceremony was actually really moving, we all got to wave good bye to George Bush's helicopter, but the *best* part of the whole day were the people who were there to watch and celebrate-people who had traveled from all over the country, from other countries, from *everywhere*,and they were the happiest group of people I had ever seen. I had tears in my eyes and a silly grin on my face the entire day.
To the Five A.M. Line people, especially the Women From Missouri, to the folks standing next to me during the ceremony (African American couple in their sixties with whom I exchanged teary smiles and who said,as they were leaving, "good to be with you"), to the Tall White Guy With the Tiny TV and his wife ( who was leading us in trying to police ourselves early on in the Five A.M. Line and being hilarious about it), to The High Five Kid, and to, well, everyone we saw- you are all gorgeous -you are the America I have always wanted to believe in. Thank you all, two million of you, for being a part of one of the best days of my life . Obama says it is not about him, it's about us. I am loving us right now.
And Then We Went Home
We didn't try to see the parade, it would have been hard to get to it and we were exhausted and cold. We made our way very slowly to the metro , after hanging out on the mall for a bit, and then to our hotel where we ate all the food we could find within a five mile radius, and then collapsed. We drove north the next morning and stopped for lunch at a place off the freeway. The restaurant was filled with other folks coming back from the festivities. In the ladies room I chatted with an African American woman in a pink jacket and exchanged inauguration stories. On the way out she said " I have great faith that anything is possible". I said," I hope you are right" and she said " Oh, I know I'm right - it all just starts with someone saying '' hi, how are you?'"

wait a minute.... we never win anything...

..so how is it that our congressperson's eager young assistant just called to tell us that we have two tickets for the inauguration? No seriously, we won the ticket lottery. I can't believe it. We pick up the tickets tomorrow. We are a little bit excited. I think I may have to play that mega- millions type lottery that I never play and always complain about not winning this week. Oh my goodness. HAH!

Bill Cosby was on...

.....Meet The Press and David Gregory asked him what it was like for him personally voting for Obama. Cos said that he brought pictures of his deceased parents and brother into the booth with him, set them up and said " and now we vote". He said it was wonderful.
I took a picture of my vote. Anyone else out there do anything interesting? Keep it clean. I think a collection of such stories would be an interesting project. To me anyhow.
We are still heading to DC next week to try to get somewhere within several miles of the inauguration ( no tickets yet, but they haven't been distributed yet- so ...hey.... maybe we will get lucky ) . It's probably crazy but it will be an adventure. Besides its two days after our wedding anniversary so - what the heck.

Took the youngest back to school today . The eldest has also flown the proverbial coop. It's suddenly a bit too quiet here.

Smoke is coming out of my ears..

...because of Rick Warren's inclusion in the Obama inauguration. Read why it sucks here.

I understand that Obama wants to be inclusive, to be everyone's president, but I don't believe bigotry is something that should be included anywhere. Warren wants to deny rights to a minority population. Isn't that bigotry? Isn't that a human rights issue? I am severely disappointed.

We went to see the movie "Milk" on Friday night. Harvey Milk was my supervisor in the district where I lived in San Francisco. Harvey Milk was the first openly Gay official elected to public office . Harvey Milk also ran a camera store that never never lost my film (unlike the local one that lost some of my kid's pictures from her trip to Kenya) and Harvey Milk was a really great guy. Everyone should go see this movie. I thought it would be hard for me to watch - it was an incredibly rough time for San Francisco and it was also a really rough time for me personally , but it is a triumphant movie and is incredibly entertaining. It's not depressing at all.


But I digress. Milk was murdered along with the mayor ( George Moscone) by another city supervisor who could not tolerate Milk's sexuality( among other things). Fellow supervisor Dianne Feinstein found Harvey's body. Dianne Feinstein is now A US Senator from California. Dianne Feinstein is also the head of Obama's inauguration committee. And now an Anti- Gay pastor is delivering the invocation at Obama's ceremony. This is ironic. It's also making me a little bit nauseous.

I should say ,in Obama's defense, that the minister doing the benediction is a social progressive who is a strong supporter of GLBT rights. However, It peeves me (I love the word peeve) that Warren is speaking at all. I don't see this as a simple difference of opinion. How does Warren's anti- Gay stance differ from a racist stance?
Anyhow, if this pisses you off as much as it pisses me off I invite you to write letters, make phone calls, stand up and scream to express your displeasure. Start here .

I used to use chocolate.....

Found myself feeling a bit down in the proverbial dumps last night- I have been hearing about a lot of old friends dying lately- and I cheered up by watching videos very much like the one below.
One month has passed and it still hasn't gotten old. Ask me again in a year when I am yelling and screaming about "that jerk in the White House", as I am prone to do, and I might not feel as warm and fuzzy. Right now, though, this is still great stuff. I can only imagine what it must have felt like for African Americans all over the country. It felt damned great to me. No matter what the cute tall guy's failings will be- the moment of his election will still be a great great moment.That will be eternal. I was lucky to see it. Enjoy.

      One more teensy election day note. I began election day by blasting "Signed Sealed and Delivered" by Stevie Wonder. This song was played at every Obama rally and at the Democratic convention and playing it on the morning we all went to vote seemed like a good idea to bring good luck. I may play it every day that someone needs some good luck -apparently it works. Send your "Signed Sealed and Delivered"needs to me and I will play it in your honor- it will bring you good fortune and might even get you elected to something. After the ceremonial Stevie Wonder fix, my daughters and I went to cast their first presidential ballot and my ninth. This was the first one that felt really really good. 

  Then it was off to Democratic Headquarters to oversee a phone bank. Lots of people came in to make incredibly annoying (I am sure) calls to remind people of the location  of their polling place,  to give them a number to call if they had any concerns or needed a ride to the polls.. blah blah blah... I made calls as well once everyone was settled. Only one person told me to "tell that Barack Obama to kiss my ass". I told that guy I would probably not be able to convey that message but that I appreciated his input( oh so very much).

     After a couple of hours of calls we all took a short break and chatted with with an eighty- six year old woman who was volunteering. She had the most beautiful accent. She told us that she was a French "war bride" and told us powerful stories of what it was like to live in occupied France during World War II . She said she was supporting Obama because she didn't think he would take the nation to war without a "damned good reason". I could have listened to her stories all day long. Towards the end of the day an African American teenager came into make calls with us. She sat next to the eighty six year old "war bride". I looked at them sitting there together making those calls and had to pretend that I had gotten something in my eye. I was teary all the way home.

    At home a few friends gathered at my house to drink champagne. My pal Lois and I started toasting every state Obama won, starting with Vermont. This turned out to be not such a great idea. I don't normally drink and by Ohio( Ohio ! He frakkin' won Ohio!) I was pretty wasted.  I proceeded to drink coffee and eat a lot so that I wouldn't pass out when the polls closed on the West Coast. I didn't. Instead I resumed the weeping that had started when I watched those two women from incredibly different backgrounds sit next to each other at the Democratic headquarters phone bank making calls to encourage people to vote for the tall guy. It was a good day. 

  

This Train

This is absurd. I don't believe I have ever felt quite like this. I am way too old and cynical and I have been disappointed too many times to be sitting here reading election polling with tears of joy running down my face.
The first time I was moved like this was when I was twelve years old. I was sitting in front of the television watching Rev. Martin Luther King Jr's," I Have a Dream " speech on TV. It was 1963. A light went on in my little middle school brain and changed me forever. I wanted to be at that march more than anything else. In 1968 , just a couple of months after King was murdered, I went to the Poor People's Campaign March on Washington and experienced the great joy of working with so many people for a common cause. I've been involved, one way or another, in one kind of civil rights struggle or another, ever since. Sometimes my involvement has been nothing more than writing letters to the local paper while raising my kids up to believe what their father and I believe so deeply. Other times,It's been a deeper involvement, sometimes, in my youth, to the point where I would burn out and be overwhelmed by hopelessness and have to step back for a while. The need to be involved has always been there .I don't feel right unless I am doing something, no matter how small, to help folks out who aren't as lucky as I am. My parents had a lot to do with that, of course, but that speech in Washington DC in 1963 formed a great deal of my life. It's astounding how one man or woman can have that kind of effect on someone so far away and so small.
For the past few months I have been involved, joyfully involved, in Barack Obama's campaign for the presidency. I have no unrealistic expectations about what a president of this mess we call a nation can accomplish, but I do know that the most important thing a leader can do is affect someone the way Martin Luther King affected me when I was twelve years old. Obama has already done that. Obama has made that connection. I see it in the faces of the kids who volunteer with us. I see it in the faces of African Americans who are surprised by joy. I see it in the already long lines of folks voting who never thought they had a reason to vote before. And somehow, by some strange perfect storm of events,Barack Obama is about to get elected president. I never thought I would see this happen in my lifetime. Never. The national tragedy that is racism is so strong in our collective American soul. We are such a young country but I think we may be about to grow up.
We have one full day left until election day. If he wins I will be drinking champagne and probably crying a lot. If he loses I will probably be drinking something stronger and yelling, like Liam Neeson in Schindler's List," I should have done more! I should have done more!!!" I am betting on the first scenario. But still... I should have done more. This isn't an end , it is just an exclamation point, a moment to sit back and say, "hey, something good just happened!" and celebrate for a bit before getting back on the train.
And this train...this train carries everyone.

Sacred Stories

       I've been re-reading Barack Obama's memoir of his childhood and his early days as a community organizer: Dreams from My Father. It is a remarkable book. In a chapter describing community building in inner city Chicago he  writes about  holding a meeting where folks just started talking about their lives, telling  tales of their own childhoods, sharing the challenges they still face every day,and revealing hard  truths about their lives. Obama referred to these stories as "sacred stories". As soon as I read that phrase, one I have used so often,I burst into my usual sappy Ruthie tears and started thinking.  

     The phrase "sacred stories" was referenced frequently in my former life as a Unitarian Universalist. I am , I should mention, not religious at all, but the nice thing about Unitarian Universalist  Fellowships is that you don't really have to believe in anything of a spiritual nature to belong. You do, however, have to believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every individual and you are committed to trying to understand our shared humanity. It is not as easy as it sounds. On Christmas Eve Unitarian Universalists everywhere repeat one line several times :" Each night a child is born is a holy night". I get goose bumps just writing it here."Each Night A Child Is Born Is A Holy Night". All of us are holy, all of us are sacred, and all of our stories are sacred stories.

     I have been a mental health worker most of my adult life. I used to tell people I went into the business because I am inherently nosy and wanted to hear peoples' gossip. This is essentially true. I wanted to hear stories about what makes us real. I wanted to hear stories that transcend our differences, that help us step into someone else's shoes, as the saying goes, and walk that extra mile. I wanted to hear stories of struggle, truths found, victories shared, pain given into, pain over come. I need these stories to fuel my own exploration of my own humanity. I read them in books, I listen for them on street corners and I elicit them from my clients and from the people in my life. I am consistently  delighted, amused, horrified, scared, but mostly inspired when someone tells me the truth of  his or her life. These stories are as important to me as any belief in a supreme being could ever be. 

         A woman who I am proud to call my niece, has written such a story, and you can find it here  (check out the entry for October 18, 2008). It's hard, it's gut wrenching and it is ultimately triumphant. Bring tissues. 

   Sacred stories. Those revelatory stories that bring us together. That important and courageous sharing. I have heard so many over the years and I even have a couple of my own. I think that I have found the focus of this blog. More to come. 

   

not a good day to forget the good camera..

 when one ends up being 15 feet away from the Next President of The United States at a rally in Philadelphia. 

This will have to do... Again, and as usual, the cell phone takes the pictures. I am a servant of the cell phone.

We left for the rally that started at 8:15 at 5:00 AM. Stood on line for an hour or so with the nicest people in the world and ended up a lot closer to the stage that we had any right to be. The crowd was amazing.

     Obama is a smart guy, and I will vote for him without reservation, but what really astounds me and delights me is the movement that is his campaign. The folks "on the ground" are terrific. I haven't felt anything like this in a long long time and I have been doing stuff  like this for about 40 years. It really is inspiring.  He has a lot to live up to. The hope in the faces of his supporters is heartwarming and heartbreaking all at the same time. I've seen that look before. It hasn't ended well. But that was then, and this is not then. This is not then. 

     It certainly has been, so far, a very interesting ride. David and I always seem to end up getting all teary eyed at these events and believe me, we are two of the crankiest cynics I know. But not right now. That feeling won't last long, it never does, but right now, for two people whose political consciousness ' were formed watching the March On Washington on the TV in 1963, this feels right. 

     The Senator showed up at 8:15 and did his usual campaign " stump speech" with some mouth watering allusions to pie ( for some reason), specifically sweet potato pie, and that made us hungry so after the rally we had a lovely breakfast. But not before taking a picture of some of our  crowd mates which you see above. I don't know who they are but for about an hour they were our very good buddies . And we saw Barack Obama speak, for the first time, together. I think that means I have to send them Christmas cards and stuff. 

    We did get a look at Chris Matthews of "Hardball" fame ( MSNBC) and his hair is really scary in person . 

   Tomorrow more voter registration and then possibly, for me, an extended visit to Montgomery County, Pa. 

How about Wordless Sunday as well?

more on this later...

Best thing said by a politician today...

Barack Obama " I think that a president should be able to do at least two things at once".

No shit.

Any mom will tell you that having to do two things at once means you are having an easy day.

 

 Me to John McCain ; Mulitask!