Mr. Wolverine Goes to Washington, Part 3

Part 3: "A Moment That Will Define a Generation"

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

I slept through my alarm that morning. I set my alarm on my watch instead of the hotel's clock radio as my roommate was already in bed. I thought we were meeting for breakfast at 6, set my alarm for 5:15, and woke up at 6:57.

Luckily we were supposed to meet at 7, and there was at least one other person who didn't get there until 7:30. Then we headed out on our circuitous route to the National Mall. The group halved early as the people in the front walked quickly and didn't look back.

Our half of the group stopped at the expectant crowd gathered near the Hay-Adams Hotel. It was customary for the president-elect to pray at the church across the street and Obama was scheduled to arrive soon. His motorcade rolled in just as we were giving up. I didn't see Obama directly, but I did see Joe & Jill "Went-Up-the-Hill" Biden, and I can say that I was within 200 yards of Barack Obama.

We continued our trek to the Mall, momentarily ducking into a hotel for warmth, and finally entered by the WWII Memorial. We moved forward to the Washington Monument towards the cafe tent before our subgroup split. Four of us chose to go (and stay!) at the Hard Rock Cafe for warmth. Sara and I elected to stick it out. We headed back to higher ground at the base of the Washington Monument.

We tried to stay warm, talked to a family from Louisiana, and snapped pictures. Some highlights:

The signs. ("No more Bushit" and "From King to President")

The crowd's reaction to Bush. They booed when he was presented. Folks closer to the front sang, "Na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye." When Bush the Elder was introduced, a lady behind me yelled, "Your son sucked as president!"

I swear the entire Mall laughed at Rick Warren's exaggerated pronunciation of "Ma-LI-a and SA-SHA!"

Aretha's still got it. The photo must not have turned out well, but she looked exactly as I pictured her, ridiculous hat and all.

"Air and Simple Gifts." John Williams, Itzhak Perlman, Yo-Yo Ma, Aaron Copland. 'Nuff said.

Way to go, Justice Roberts!

Reverend Lowery's benediction was hilarious. "...when the red man can get ahead, man; and when white will embrace what's right." At the time it was hard to tell if he had planned on saying that or if he was just trying to get the crowd's attention. Most of us, myself included, were headed out, as the benediction followed that hideous poem ("Picking lettuce"? Of all the crops that you could have chosen--oranges, apples, strawberries--you chose lettuce?) and Obama's inaugural address.

The part of the address where Obama discussed all of the problems we're currently facing was a major downer. Now, I understand that he needed to knock us down to bring us back up, and he needed to lower expectations.

The speech, as a whole, was amazing. There was one particular turn of phrase I enjoyed: "...we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your fist." Brilliant. Throughout the speech, I kept nodding my head and thinking, 'Finally, a president who gets it!' My eyes welled up, but I didn't cry.

It was, unsurprisingly, chaos getting out. But I think it was particularly symbolic that the huddled mass of which I was part coped by singing "Lean On Me" and "I Will Survive." I wanted to start a rendition of "Don't Stop Believing," but I didn't think I had the support.

Sara and I didn't get back to the hotel until 3. What normally would have been a thirty-minute walk or so took two and a half hours. But that's what happens when you're one of two million people and they decide it's a good idea to send in a line of buses to block the foot traffic once it's over.

I had been out in the cold for seven and a half hours. My lower lip was literally white. I ate the pretzels they handed out, watched the parade on TV, and called people. It was impossible for anyone to call in when I was on the Mall. The cell phone towers were overwhelmed. I managed to get a text message out, but I didn't get the response until after I had left.

Around 6:30, I started changing into my tux for the UPIC gala. The buses took forever to ferry us from the hotel to the gala in the traffic-clogged streets. The gala was split between the Air & Space and Hirshhorn Museums.

The ball was a major letdown. The gala wasn't official, and no VIP showed up. The live band at Air & Space sucked and the DJ at Hirshhorn just played nightclub music. I don't know what I was expecting him to play, but suffice it to say that I didn't do any dancing. I went off with Teddy instead and explored the lower floor of the Hirshhorn. Some pretty interesting stuff. The fact that you could see my reflection in some of the pictures I took just adds another level of post-modernism to the works.

The buses going back to the hotel were even more nightmarish than to the ball. They weren't coming back frequently enough to accommodate those who were leaving. So Teddy and I took the Metro from L'Enfant Plaza back to the hotel. I turned in and left the packing for morning.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

I packed, went down for breakfast, texted my newfound friends goodbye (Heck, I would have slept in too if I could), and caught the bus to Reagan, making sure I had plenty of time to spare that day. One flight and three bus rides later I was back in my apartment in Ann Arbor.

DC was cold, crowded, and exhausting, but it was completely worth it.

Mr. Wolverine Goes to Washington, Part 2

Part 2: "The ground has shifted beneath them"

Monday, January 19, 2009

Two panels Monday morning. A lot of our group skipped both of them, but the foreign policy one sounded interesting to me, and I wanted to get my money's worth.

"If I knew there was going to be a podium, I wouldn't have worn pants."   ~Jonah Goldberg

I knew Peter Beinart and Jonah Goldberg from Bloggingheads. It was odd because Goldberg was the conservative but a much better and funnier speaker. In his opening, Beinart droned on and on and talked about whatever popped into his mind. He was much better in the Q & A. The Q & A did a fairly good job of covering the hot spots: Iran, China, Russia.

Then, Mike wanted to go to the poetry panel with former Poet Laureate Robert Pinsky. He gave a very Ralph Williams-esque lecture, and it was interesting because it was not about politics.

"'If you dyed your hair black, you'd look just like Al Gore.'"   ~Al Gore

We grabbed our box lunches, ate at the Marriott, then headed back to U-Maryland to hear Al Gore. He gave the expected become-involved and global-warming shticks. They only allowed two questions. I wish, like the guy behind me, that someone had asked him about nuclear power, but no.

As the director of UPIC came onstage to brief us about tomorrow, the audience booed and yelled. The conference, evident from day 1, had been horribly disorganized. The faculty advisors didn't know what was going on, and it seemed like they were making it up as they went along. I guess they were unprepared for the enthusiasm for Obama.

Some of the students were circulating a letter expressing their dissatisfaction. I guess some had been promised a smaller conference or reserved seats on the Mall. I was under no such illusions and tried to enjoy it as well as I could.

The group dynamic was interesting from a political/philosophical perspective. You sacrifice some of your freedom for the security and sociability of the group. I think everyone was frustrated with this at some time or another and the group started to splinter that night.

The first breakaway republic was Teddy. We were heading to this Italian restaurant (Again, a chain. I don't understand it. If you're visiting a city, why not go to a place they don't have anywhere else? We actually ate at a local chain but only because it was much closer to the Metro stop.) when Tedward got a call from one of the girls we had met on the bus ride after Gore. He went to have dinner with them.

Then, Christine, Mike and I left early and headed back to the hotel. I particularly did not want to keep window shopping. We explored the lower floors of the hotel, pretending that we were going where we shouldn't. We went back to my room to play cards. I called Mrs. Wolverine, they left, I went to bed.

Smooth, Grand Hyatt. Really smooth. Stay tuned for the third and final installment.

Mr. Wolverine Goes to Washington, Part 1

Part 1: You may ask yourself, how did I get here?

Saturday, January 17, 2009

Hectic beginning. Missed the Michigan Flyer, the bus that was supposed to take me to the airport. Had to call a taxi, which took 20 minutes to get to where I was and 40 minutes to get from there to the airport, $50. At least 16 cars had driven either off the road or into each other.

Somehow I made the flight. It helped that it was supposed to leave 20 minutes after I thought it would.

One of the ladies behind the counter complimented me on my scarf, saying it had "inspired" her to make one just like it for her son(?) who goes to U-M.

They said the flight was supposed to be fairly smooth. With the weather as it was on the ground, I had a little trouble believing the pilot. And of course, we hit a pocket of turbulence as soon as he said we probably would not.

It took more time to load the plane, taxi, de-ice, and taxi to the runway than it did to actually fly from Detroit to Washington.

The nice thing about flying into Reagan is that you fly right along the Potomac, and you see the National Mall, the Washington Monument, the Smithsonian, the Capitol, and the White House. The other side of the plane sees the Pentagon.

The airport itself is not so nice. It's old and it's ugly and I don't mind in the least bit that they named it after Ronald Reagan.

Because I was late getting into DTW, even though I made the flight, my bag did not. A handful of other people and I waited at the baggage claim for the next flight from Detroit to come in. Again, this took longer than the actual flight.

There was another group of people who came in late for various reasons staying at my hotel. (There were 5,000 people at the University Presidential Inaugural Conference (UPIC) spread over six hotels.)

And our group was horribly late. So late that we got to our hotel after Tim Russert's son started speaking at another hotel. So late that once we got to the other hotel, registration was closed and Russert had finished speaking. Luckily, there were some hors d'ouevres left. We gnoshed, returned, and hung out.

Our hotel, the Grand Hyatt, is luxe.

I mean grand-piano-on-its-own-island-in-the-atrium-fountain luxe.

Sunday, January 18, 2009

I didn't sleep well the night before. I would have had only five hours of sleep even if I wasn't tossing and turning.

Got up at 4:45, breakfast started at 5:15. Buses to the University of Maryland started at 6.

They packed us into the Cole Activites Building, having covered the basketball court with astroturf and set up a stage and chairs above that. The chairs and most of the seating section were filled. There were seven or eight thousand there, including the junior scholars. (The middle-schoolers and high-schoolers each had their own little conference.)

"You've got to have people who'll tell you you have no clothes on...That didn't come out right." ~Colin Powell

Colin Powell spoke a little about the election, but mostly about the qualities of a good leader. He was in Hong Kong when the results were coming in. He said that he was so overwhelmed with emotion, he had to sit down. He hoped he wouldn't cry all through Inauguration Day.

The speech was mostly interesting, at least it served to wake me up. Q & A was all right; most of the questions were thoughtful, asking about State, Darfur, Bush, and a youth program that he spearheaded. The bookends were terrible: asking about his shortcomings and the qualities he valued in a leader. (Dude, didn't you listen to the speech?)

From there, back to the Marriott for panels. We went to the Matalin-Carville one, an interesting bipartisan couple. (We were sitting in a weird spot; sorry, no pictures.) They were both funny, and Carville particularly exhorted us to participate actively in the political process.

Carville recounted a story where they were leaving their daughters at home to go somewhere. Matalin was telling them to be good. One of their daughters, "already exhibiting conservative tendencies," said, "If you give me a dollar, I'll be good." Matalin, without missing a beat, retorted, "Why can't you just be good for nothing like your father?"

Q & A brought up electoral reform. Said Carville, "Who left Iowa and New Hampshire in charge?" His answer? "Blow it up." Besides dynamiting the primary system, he suggested exploding the debate format, oddly supporting the unmoderated, town-hall debates that Obama spurned during the campaign.

We left the Marriott early, took the Metro back to the hotel, changed, and headed out. We ate at an overpriced seafood restaurant and headed to the opening inaugural festivities.

We ended up in front of the videoscreen between the Washington Monument and the WWII Memorial, a full six blocks from the main event at the Lincoln Memorial.

We saw Herbie Hancock, Garth Brooks, Forrest Whitaker, Usher, Stevie Wonder, Shakira, Jack Black, Samuel L. Jackson and U2 before Obama gave his speech. I didn't realize he was going to give a speech here. For some reason, our little group of people started to leave halfway through the speech so I missed the end of it.

After the speech, we spotted a few religious fanatic protesters who admonished us to reject Obama and accept Jesus if we really wanted to embrace change; condemned "child-killing women", "porno addicts", and "Mormons" to hell; and warned that homosexuality was a threat to national security. Half of us went off to harangue them, while the other half headed off to the Lincoln Memorial.

No-go. Completely locked down for the Inauguration.

(On the way, I was accosted by a reporter from the Detroit News who wanted a Michigander's take on the festivities. My Michigan coat, scarf and hat are a dead giveaway. This was the same reporter who asked me questions when I was getting on the plane in Detroit-Metro.)

So we made our way back to the hotel, being thwarted by Washington's odd street layout, the fact that Pennsylvania Ave. was blocked off, (The stopped crowd was claustrophobically terrifying. It felt like I was in the scene in I Am Legend where everyone's trying to get off Manhattan before they close down the island.) and my inability to find our hotel on the DC map. I found the nearby Metro stop and like newly blinded people groping about, we were able to find the hotel.

The zombie crowd at Pennsylvania and 17th. Stay tuned for Part 2.