obama

It is Tuesday, January 20th, 2009 and I crawled out of bed to watch the inauguration. We are in Seattle and I see thick fog and evergreens through the plantation shutters at dan and kristie's house. I curl up on the couch under blankets and watch the cameras roll. I'm proud and I'm teary. An estimated 2 million people are there to see it happen. I remember discussions with friends about whether we would ever see a black president in our lifetime. I had thought probably not. I liked the speech. It was inclusive, global, and strong. Obama directly addressed Muslims in the world which we need to do. He seemed nervous, uncharacteristically stumbling as he took the oath. His wife, Michelle, was decked out in a dress that made me think of royalty - yellow gold with jewels and a jacket like a robe. I was happy for them and their kids. I liked the poetry. I loved the prayer by a very old black preacher.

Now I'm watching them walk down pennsylvania avenue hand-in-hand, gloriously happy and waving to everyone. It seems sincere and down to earth somehow pulled off with the air of royalty, sophistication, and beauty. Obama has a magenta scarf hanging around his neck. It is kingly. They are beautiful and beautiful to watch. People are tens deep trying to get a glimpse. And I am in someone else's home eating a cheeseburger with delicious peppered bacon and salty french fries. The Obamas are back in their limo and people are now singing/chanting Obama as they drive by. . .

I tried to change the channel, but I can't figure out how to. So I am on my 4th hour of inauguration coverage. The last time I sat glued to the TV like this was during 911. What a contrast that day is to this one. I feel hope instead of fear. I am happy instead of sad.