That was really something wasn't it? The speech, the pomp, Aretha's hat, the hip benediction, it was all good. As an ex-DC person, what I remember is that DC is a very large small town and not the epicenter of sophistication, but every so often it'll blow your doors off. The Marine marching band, the bell-ringers, the cannons: I guess they're kept in a big warehouse like Mardi Gras floats, waiting for the Next Big Thing. Well, honey, this was it.
Personally, I loved the crowds, all colors, all ages, old guys who marched with King, the 'Nam vets, the young un's wearing all their Obama flash, old ladies with joyful tears. Everyone happy, shouting, singing, stamping, dancing, and chanting. You guys should stop by more often. Without you DC can turn into a hushed unfun tourist destination, with sightseers tippytoeing reverentially through marble halls, breathing on moldy documents, looking at the Capitol with gaga expressions.
For a while there, like the last eight years, it looked like an armed graveyard. Lots of heavy-necked military bulldogs around and a scattering of depressed sightseers trying to find a buddy/son/husband/dad on The Wall. I had to hold very tight to my own memories of stopping in on the Senate, watching a filibuster, eating at the cafeteria, and checking out the White House. Back then it was my Capitol, my government.
Maybe it will be again. And yours too.
Fingers crossed.
Personally, I loved the crowds, all colors, all ages, old guys who marched with King, the 'Nam vets, the young un's wearing all their Obama flash, old ladies with joyful tears. Everyone happy, shouting, singing, stamping, dancing, and chanting. You guys should stop by more often. Without you DC can turn into a hushed unfun tourist destination, with sightseers tippytoeing reverentially through marble halls, breathing on moldy documents, looking at the Capitol with gaga expressions.
For a while there, like the last eight years, it looked like an armed graveyard. Lots of heavy-necked military bulldogs around and a scattering of depressed sightseers trying to find a buddy/son/husband/dad on The Wall. I had to hold very tight to my own memories of stopping in on the Senate, watching a filibuster, eating at the cafeteria, and checking out the White House. Back then it was my Capitol, my government.
Maybe it will be again. And yours too.
Fingers crossed.
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