Notes from Inauguration Day

I volunteered for the Presidential Inaugural Committee on Inauguration Day, helping supervise the distribution of approximately 300,000 6"x9" American flags. I got down to the Mall just after 3 AM, and I was ready for the cold, with Ben-Gay heat patches on both of my legs, just above the knee, and a bag full of hand-warmers. Getting into the Mall itself was a bit of a daunting task. We tried to enter at 7th and E Streets NW, close to where our trailer and shipping containers of flags were, and the cops told us we had to walk all the way around the White House, and enter the Mall near the Washington Monument.
On the way over, we passed hundreds of other people trying to figure out how to get into the Mall, constantly stopping and comparing notes to see if anyone had tried 18th Street, past the White House. During one of these conversations, one guy came up and asked if anyone had a phone he could use. Finally, I said he could use mine, but I stood about six inches from him while he called, so I could grab him in case he tried to run off with it. When he told whoever he was calling that he'd probably just sleep on a heating grate for a while, I tensed up, and kept repeating to myself "Don't you dare take advantage of my kindness." But when he was done, he just handed the phone back and thanked me. We moved on and stopped in for some coffee at a Starbucks, which was already packed at 3:30 AM - it was one of the only outposts of warmth, and it was 18 degrees outside.
When we finally made it to 18th and headed south, we came upon one of the most random things I have ever seen. Halfway down one of the empty, sterile streets in Washington's business district, past one of the empty Metro buses the city was using to block off streets (which gave downtown a disaster-flick vibe), twenty-five or thirty people were out in the middle of the street, dancing to the title track from Footloose! We couldn't tell if the music was coming from a bar's PA system, or someone's car stereo, or what, and it was too cold to waste any time trying to find out. We had to just keep moving, and file that away in the part of the brain that stores absurd spectacles we'll almost forget about.
We made it to the trailer around 4:15 or 4:30, and by 5:00, twenty-five or thirty local Girl and Boy Scout troops met us on the Mall to help with the flags. We got moving quickly, because by 5:30, there was already a constant stream of people onto the Mall. By the time the ceremony started, we had the non-ticketed of the Mall covered pretty well. In an era of cynicism and frustration with the federal government, it felt great to see people so excited when we offered them American flags. With thousands of vendors hawking anything and everything Obama-related on every corner of downtown DC (including rip-offs like 5"x8" photos printed on the most average paper stock you can imagine for $5), we got people's attention when we told them that the flags were free. As I joked, it was the best deal in town.
The Inaugural Committee had the sense to play something on the Jumbotrons during the morning, so all the people who got there early would have something to do while they waited, and they aired Sunday's concert at the Lincoln Memorial, which had featured a speech by Obama, and music/appearances from Springsteen with Pete Seeger ("This Land Is Your Land"), Stevie Wonder with Usher, Denzel Washington, U2 performing a song that had been an Obama campaign appearance staple, Beyonce, etc., etc., etc.
Yet, the most "red-state" of the performers seemed to get the biggest applause - Garth Brooks, who played a countrified medley which included "Bye, bye, Ms. American Pie," and "(You Make Me Wanna) Shout." On Tuesday morning, my section (which was probably 60% black, and overwhelmingly Democrats from "blue-states," not exactly Brooks' target demographic) went completely nuts when his taped version of "Shout" came on, with everyone singing along, jumping, and waving their flags. As someone who spent much of his teens and twenties trying to see as many bands as possible, I don't think I've ever witnessed a song elicit that much excitement. All of our energy had been bottled up in the 20-degree weather and the darkness, and Garth Brooks finally uncorked it.
When the ceremony finally started up, and the more famous Democratic Senators came out to sit down, followed by the Obama girls, my section got even more excited, and it turned into an ocean of flags. Every time Senator Feinstein said "The Next President of the United States, Barack Obama," it was greeted with roars by all of us. When the screen showed Bush, most of us looked around awkwardly, not knowing what to say, except for the folks who started singing "Nah nah nah nah, hey hey hey, Good-bye." I waved my flag for him and clapped, and it felt good giving the guy a break for once.
After all this exultation, Obama's stoically realist address was a little anti-climatic, but that definitely seemed intentional. If he had come out beaming, basking in the excitement of the moment, with the economy falling further out from under us each day, he would have appeared out-of-touch. One of Obama's greatest strengths is knowing what he doesn't need to say. He didn't campaign on a platform of "vote for me, because electing a black person would be historic" - he knew that aspect of his candidacy would generate enough excitement on its own. While his address made a reference or two to the civil rights advancements his election represented, he mostly let that obvious triumph speak for itself through the image of a black man taking the oath of office.
Similarly, Obama avoided resting on the laurels of the strong "Bush is finally gone" sentiment, which had been anticipated for years by the popular "1/20/2009" bumper sticker. Obama tapped into that sentiment, by calling for a return to the values and hard work that made America great, but also promised new approaches to pressing issues in areas like the economy, energy, and foreign policy.
For years, my goal for the 2008 election was mostly just to get a president who cared about the way our government is supposed to work - someone who would bring us back to normal (for example, back to being one of the modern, civilized counties which doesn't torture, and off the short list of rogue countries which do), and would make sincere efforts to make government more effective (in contrast to the Bush administration's overt weakening of regulators). Obama has fused strains of that traditionalist mindset with tech-savvy, forward-looking policy approaches, putting more of an emphasis on doing what works than following party orthodoxy.
In fact, pragmatism was at the heart of some of the most important lines of Obama's address: "What the cynics fail to understand is that the ground has shifted beneath them, that the stale political arguments that have consumed us for so long, no longer apply. The question we ask today is not whether our government is too big or too small, but whether it works, whether it helps families find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a retirement that is dignified."
During the primary and election, some on the left ridiculed Obama's oft-repeated promise to take a post-partisan, or post-ideological approach, dismissing that kind of talk as a political stunt. Incredibly, the same crowd is up in arms whenever Obama takes a centrist policy approach, gives a Republican credit for having a good idea, or appoints someone they do not consider ideologically pure (like Cass Sunstein, the legal/policy genius who will head of the Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs, and whose book "Nudge" embodies a lot of my own political values).
In contrast, Obama's post-ideological streak is one of the things that excites me most about his presidency. When I started outragedmoderates.org in 2004, I cited the following textbook definition of "moderate": "someone who weighs each issue on its own, rather than following a strict party line or ideology." President Obama fits squarely into my definition of the term, and if his administration fulfills its promise, one of the lasting examples of "Change" may be a less binary, more nuanced American political conversation.


