History
I watched the inauguration at a local watering hole. We went to a sports bar, my friend and I, knowing that they would have many televisions and they couldn't have Sportscenter on all of them. Not that there is anything wrong with SC. Nothing like SC on a cold winter morning to make you realize that March Madness isn't that far away. That just wasn't my purpose that day.
We sat pretty close to the televisions. It is a buffet type place and we got up once while Feinstein was going on and on and on. The room in the place started to fill up. I couldn't tell if these were people who just happened to come on that day, looking for huge portions of pizza and pasta or if they knew there would be televisions tuned to CNN showing the crowds in Washington.
Most people didn't talk. Some did. The girl behind me? Would. Not. Shut. Up. She was in her 20s and clearly an imbicile in the most Three Stooges fashion. She kept up a running commentary on just about everything going on in her life, none of it applicable to the moment at hand.
There was another table of two older men. They sat and chatted like nothing was going on, like we were all sitting around watching soap operas and they had better things to do. From their grey suits and wingtips, I could tell who they voted for.
Then the good stuff got going and I forgot about going up for a second plateful of carbs. The words were hard to hear, since the sound system in the place is geared more toward catching the roar of the crowd, rather than the nuances of great oratory. But I could see the crowd. And I could read lips, when the cameras stayed focused on our new president. And I know the scope, both of the National Mall and of history.
I got teary, I won't deny it. Then I saw George H.W. Bush and his sartorial choices and I got over being weepy.
At the end, we waited for our check, with most of the people in the place leaving. When the room emptied out a bit, I noticed an African-American couple sitting up by the wall. They'd clearly been there for the event and were just finishing their own lunch.
And they had a half bottle of champagne on their table.
A great many things made me smile that day. But that moment was the best.
We sat pretty close to the televisions. It is a buffet type place and we got up once while Feinstein was going on and on and on. The room in the place started to fill up. I couldn't tell if these were people who just happened to come on that day, looking for huge portions of pizza and pasta or if they knew there would be televisions tuned to CNN showing the crowds in Washington.
Most people didn't talk. Some did. The girl behind me? Would. Not. Shut. Up. She was in her 20s and clearly an imbicile in the most Three Stooges fashion. She kept up a running commentary on just about everything going on in her life, none of it applicable to the moment at hand.
There was another table of two older men. They sat and chatted like nothing was going on, like we were all sitting around watching soap operas and they had better things to do. From their grey suits and wingtips, I could tell who they voted for.
Then the good stuff got going and I forgot about going up for a second plateful of carbs. The words were hard to hear, since the sound system in the place is geared more toward catching the roar of the crowd, rather than the nuances of great oratory. But I could see the crowd. And I could read lips, when the cameras stayed focused on our new president. And I know the scope, both of the National Mall and of history.
I got teary, I won't deny it. Then I saw George H.W. Bush and his sartorial choices and I got over being weepy.
At the end, we waited for our check, with most of the people in the place leaving. When the room emptied out a bit, I noticed an African-American couple sitting up by the wall. They'd clearly been there for the event and were just finishing their own lunch.
And they had a half bottle of champagne on their table.
A great many things made me smile that day. But that moment was the best.
posted by Miss Head at
3:36 AM
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