INAUGURATION WEEK

The temperature in Washington, DC has been subarctic since George W. Bush's first term. Lucky for us (depending on whom you ask) the bitter cold has been sweetened a bit by the first (and possibly last) decisive snowfall. After snowing through Saturday afternoon, the precipitation has abated and the sun has even re-emerged. Sounds like we missed the best/worst of it.

Before the snow hit, DC had already endured a different, more perfect storm: tourism and the tourists it brings. Not just any tourists: die-hard red-staters, invading this bluest of blue zones. The Daily Show's annoying new correspondent did a segment (apparently not available online) featuring angry District residents, but the few interactions I saw between the two groups were friendly. When I was in NYC for the RNC last summer, I found residents all over town wearing anti-Bush slogans on shirts in silent protest. I mentioned then that one never sees the same thing in DC, and that held true this week. This is a company town, and the dress code reflects that.

This didn't stop the ANSWER-led fringe elements from turning out full-force on Inauguration Day in drab green cargo pants and corduroy rasta hats, armed with a supreme sense of self-righteousness and signs ranging from clever to hateful. And I mean hateful:



I had tickets to view the inaugural (from a standing section way in the back), and got out of work a bit early (on an already shortened day of a very short week) to make sure I had plenty of time to get through. Naturally, the two Metro stops closest to my approved entrance point were closed for the day, so I had to get off at the Chinatown stop and start walking south. Three blocks later, I hit the line. Well, not a line. A crowd in an intersection. Two crowds: Republicans and anarchists, pressed together by more Republicans and anarchists.



The protesters chanted the usual slogans, including the trusty "Im! Peach! Bush!" and tried to strike up arguments with the Republicans. One elderly fellow kept asking a particularly obnoxious high schooler if he was signing up for the military. His "yes" answer wasn't too persuasive.



This Zack de la Rocha-looking troublemaker climbed up on a barrier and proceeded to lecture first the crowd, then individual GOPers underfoot, on the evils of George W. Bush in particular and Western civilization in general. The high schooler shouted back at him to no effect other than to hurt the ears of everyone around him, me included. He finally scored a hit, taking the suggestion of a white fur coat-wearing, self-identified libertarian woman to yell: "Nice extensions!" That got a laugh.

I assumed the protesters were purposefully trying to slow the admittance of ticket-holders by fighting their way to the front. If so, they succeeded. I arrived an hour before the scheduled noon oath and speech, where I was approximately 50 feet away from the entrance. By noon, I was 30 feet away. Half an hour later, I was 20 feet away. I called a friend to find out if the swearing-in was (fingers crossed) behind schedule. No such luck, not under this president. My reason for standing in that crowd in the first place had already passed, and yet it still took me a moment to decide it was time to give up.

There were other noteworthy events throughout the week. Kid Rock was originally supposed to play at some concert purportedly arranged by the Bush daughters, but with him booted, others took up the slack. The singer for one briefly popular rock band yelled, "Welcome to the greatest FUCKING country in the world!” But he apologized, and at least he didn't rap about "pimping Barbara Bush."

Another event was a decidedly less-controversial musical show at the Ellipse south of the White House, featuring the NYPD's singing cop, country-western semi-stars, Patti LaBelle, plus two examples of American Idolatry, Ruben Studdard and emcee Ryan Seacrest. I didn't attend, but I did snap a few shots of the fireworks show from my balcony at home:






Longtime readers will note that this is not the first time I've taken pictures of fireworks from this angle. This time I had a real digital camera, but I'm afraid it still leaves something to be desired (the blurriness owes something to the fact that I was standing outside in 5-degree weather in boxer shorts).

And there was the pre-inauguration "Black Tie and Boots" ball, which sounds exactly like the kind of party you'd expect of Texans in Washington. A former colleague of mine, a Republican congressional aide, sold his tickets to John Elway's family for $4,000. That's the best story from the week that I've got.

And that's pretty much all I've got. Next week things should return to normal. Any questions?

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posted by WWB at 6:00 PM |