Yes my friends, "Change" is the word of the hour. Change is in the air. It is thick and palpable and all-consuming. It is bustling in the streets and written on the faces of high-rolling politicians and street-vendors alike. And this year's Inaugural festivities were the perfect way to ring it on in. I fought for my place in history, amongst 2 million other people, in 18 degree weather... and frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
They day began early. DC was in a buzz, and so was I. I knew public transport would be an absolute mess, but I was ready to take on the challenge. I was ready to become one with the crowds, the characters, the expansive array of porta-potties, and the trash-laden streets. Yes, for today, it was all okay. Making our way down to the National Mall was just as entertaining as the Inauguration itself.
(And no, I didn't go pick up some sick, already-used coffee cup to pose with in a picture. How lame would that be?)
You betcha MLK was smiling and so was I. And for some reason, everything in DC suddenly turned to gold. It all became the thrill of a lifetime. Take for instance, the discovering of the "Mobile Crime Lab."
And judging by the look on my face, finding numerous quantities of free pretzels was enough to send me over the edge... all in the name of Change of course.
And what about the miles of green, portable bathroom stalls that seemed to turn to patriotic emblems in and of themselves?
Oh my goodness. The excitement was definitely brewing. Even my side-kick and personal photographer for the day seemed to be enamored by the patriotism in the air.
(And no, I didn't go pick up some sick, already-used coffee cup to pose with in a picture. How lame would that be?)
You betcha MLK was smiling and so was I. And for some reason, everything in DC suddenly turned to gold. It all became the thrill of a lifetime. Take for instance, the discovering of the "Mobile Crime Lab."
And judging by the look on my face, finding numerous quantities of free pretzels was enough to send me over the edge... all in the name of Change of course.
And what about the miles of green, portable bathroom stalls that seemed to turn to patriotic emblems in and of themselves?
Oh my goodness. The excitement was definitely brewing. Even my side-kick and personal photographer for the day seemed to be enamored by the patriotism in the air. With all the love going around, I even tried to befriend the Secret Service dudes, who just weren't quite as in to me as I had hoped.
And let's not forget about the horse-filled trailers that beckoned us to come nearer and partake of the goodness. Yeah, no. I don't really know why I cared about getting this horse's attention. I was still high on all the Change I guess.
Finding and posing by various news vans was also a hit.
Once on the Mall, we plowed our way down through the crowds and barricades as far as humanly and legally possible. But when we couldn't beat the system anymore, we joined it. And at least this afforded us a view of the Capitol Building in the distance--so I could feel like I was actually witnessing history, and not just being herded around like a piece of cattle in the flock.
But don't be a pansy. The name of the game is to buddy up as close as you can with your neighbor and to tear down any remaining walls of personal space or comfort. Great for warmth and great for brotherly lovin'.
We caught the action from one of many big-screens and those of you who chimed in from your respective locations will agree with me, that it was an amazing day all around.
Also filled with amazingly unflattering self-portraits,
and totally awesome jackets that I'm still kicking myself for not purchasing.
More crazy fans bringing a smile to my face.
But please remember, getting into this massive heap of humanity is one thing, but getting OUT of it is a completely different story.
Had I been thinking straight, I might not have made fun of these tree-sitters; I would have joined them, and waited for the herd to pass. But instead, we spent the next couple of hours in the thick of it, being prodded and poked and led astray by the confusing, chaos-laden terrain.
At least the entertainment and the company were at all-time highs. I couldn't have asked for better, and I knew I hit the jackpot when I came across my fellow Haitian pals.
For a strange and bizarre split-second, I was transported back to the Island and was carried away by ethnic rhythms and familiar banter...
until we ran into my all-time favorite group of protesters ever, and reality knocked me upside the face. Yes, I guess we have finally made it onto the list--right alongside the "Porno Freaks" and the "Baby-Killing Women!"
We also took the time to break free from the masses and stop at various landmarks...such as the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Hey, if you had the chance, you'd jump on it too!
And let's not forget about the horse-filled trailers that beckoned us to come nearer and partake of the goodness. Yeah, no. I don't really know why I cared about getting this horse's attention. I was still high on all the Change I guess.
Finding and posing by various news vans was also a hit.
Once on the Mall, we plowed our way down through the crowds and barricades as far as humanly and legally possible. But when we couldn't beat the system anymore, we joined it. And at least this afforded us a view of the Capitol Building in the distance--so I could feel like I was actually witnessing history, and not just being herded around like a piece of cattle in the flock.
But don't be a pansy. The name of the game is to buddy up as close as you can with your neighbor and to tear down any remaining walls of personal space or comfort. Great for warmth and great for brotherly lovin'.
We caught the action from one of many big-screens and those of you who chimed in from your respective locations will agree with me, that it was an amazing day all around.
Also filled with amazingly unflattering self-portraits,
and totally awesome jackets that I'm still kicking myself for not purchasing.
More crazy fans bringing a smile to my face.
But please remember, getting into this massive heap of humanity is one thing, but getting OUT of it is a completely different story.
Had I been thinking straight, I might not have made fun of these tree-sitters; I would have joined them, and waited for the herd to pass. But instead, we spent the next couple of hours in the thick of it, being prodded and poked and led astray by the confusing, chaos-laden terrain.
At least the entertainment and the company were at all-time highs. I couldn't have asked for better, and I knew I hit the jackpot when I came across my fellow Haitian pals.
For a strange and bizarre split-second, I was transported back to the Island and was carried away by ethnic rhythms and familiar banter...
until we ran into my all-time favorite group of protesters ever, and reality knocked me upside the face. Yes, I guess we have finally made it onto the list--right alongside the "Porno Freaks" and the "Baby-Killing Women!"
We also took the time to break free from the masses and stop at various landmarks...such as the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Hey, if you had the chance, you'd jump on it too!The rest of the day was spent wandering through debris-filled streets, soaking up the flavors of our surroundings, shopping for Obama paraphernalia while freezing our tails off, and catching the remaining specs of the parade down Pennsylvania Ave. It truly doesn't get any better than that. But as the clock ticked on, it was time for me to flee the scene and get to my night job.
The only thing better than catering for Obama's Inaugural Ball, was getting to sport this most excellent bow tie. It was a new look for me, but seemed to unleash a side of myself that I never knew existed. And it was good.
I was down with watching Jay-Z and his gang warm up on the stage. But I was even more down with my assignment for the night. No my friends, not catering or waiting tables. Think outside the box for a second.
I was assigned to work "Bar-Back," at one of many conveniently located mini-bars around the ballroom. And no, I didn't know what the heck "bar-back" meant, but decided to go along with it. In short, my night was spent helping our station's bartenders keep their supplies of alcohol and other beverages constantly stocked, organized, chilled, and with plenty of ice and citrus wedges to go around. So instead of feeling like a cow in the herd like earlier in the day, I felt like a work-mule left to perform cruel acts of manual labor. And of course, I failed to mention to anyone that I knew absolutely nothing about bar tending...after all, it was only a minor detail.
But the REAL fun didn't begin until our fourth bartender had to suddenly leave and I was left to fill his shoes as an emergency replacement. Not about to back away from the challenge, I confessed my true identity, and was told to simply roll with it and take one for the team. So with masses of fancy-pants schmucks all in my line for their fancy-pants, schmuckety-schmuck Inaugural drinks, I started to panic. "Excuse me sir, did you say you wanted a 'Jack Coke on the rocks with a twist of blah blah blah".... you are speaking Yiddish to me bro.
I snuck away from the bar to get up close.
And to cheer and applaud of course.
The only thing better than catering for Obama's Inaugural Ball, was getting to sport this most excellent bow tie. It was a new look for me, but seemed to unleash a side of myself that I never knew existed. And it was good.
I was down with watching Jay-Z and his gang warm up on the stage. But I was even more down with my assignment for the night. No my friends, not catering or waiting tables. Think outside the box for a second.
I was assigned to work "Bar-Back," at one of many conveniently located mini-bars around the ballroom. And no, I didn't know what the heck "bar-back" meant, but decided to go along with it. In short, my night was spent helping our station's bartenders keep their supplies of alcohol and other beverages constantly stocked, organized, chilled, and with plenty of ice and citrus wedges to go around. So instead of feeling like a cow in the herd like earlier in the day, I felt like a work-mule left to perform cruel acts of manual labor. And of course, I failed to mention to anyone that I knew absolutely nothing about bar tending...after all, it was only a minor detail.
But the REAL fun didn't begin until our fourth bartender had to suddenly leave and I was left to fill his shoes as an emergency replacement. Not about to back away from the challenge, I confessed my true identity, and was told to simply roll with it and take one for the team. So with masses of fancy-pants schmucks all in my line for their fancy-pants, schmuckety-schmuck Inaugural drinks, I started to panic. "Excuse me sir, did you say you wanted a 'Jack Coke on the rocks with a twist of blah blah blah".... you are speaking Yiddish to me bro. It was all fun and games until I messed up with the Whiskey and the other extremely concentrated forms of alcohol. I should have gotten a clue from the number of gaping mouths that I saw staring at Yours Truly, as I casually filled up tall glasses with these extra potent alcoholic blends. Shot glasses? Who needs em?! Most people thought I was the greatest gift to ever be bestowed upon humanity. My boss however, did not feel the same way when he caught me, red handed, in the act of alcoholic ignorance. So I got chewed out. But hey, come on folks. I wasn't about to feel bad for taking one for 'Team Obama.' And the tips weren't half bad either.
The excitement came to an all-time high as Obama and Michelle made their grand entrance and did a little dance for the crowd.
I snuck away from the bar to get up close.
And to cheer and applaud of course. I worked through the night and got home the next morning around 5 am. But the adventures didn't end there. Running on fumes, I left that same afternoon for ROUND TWO of the all-night action, this time for the Staff Appreciation Ball. Obama and his gang made their grand appearance, roused the crowd with their eloquent words, and left us wanting more.
Except this time around, I quit (was fired from) the bar tending gig to work the buffet. I spent the night running back and forth from the kitchen carrying mounds of food for 15,000 of the nation's youngest and hippest trend-setters, getting in trouble from Secret Service agents for entering unauthorized areas, and of course finding ways to continually screw up on the job.
My final take-home thoughts:
1. Catering is NOT ma thing.
2. I hope I didn't make anyone sick from my amateur food and alcohol-handling practices.
3. When you mess up, sometimes it IS better to just quit.
4. Is it a sign of my age that I get sick for a month after workin the night shifts? Has my stamina really been shot to pieces? Will I be a bench warmer for the rest of my life?
I left that night completely wasted, and yet totally reflective on the events that had occurred that week and the privilege it was to be a small part of it.
Yes, the winds of change are a blowin. But it's us who have to keep them alive. So let us rock with Barrack and until next time...Cheers!
