Tuesday morning. The weather was frigid, the sky dark, as I drove my sub-sub-sub-compact rental into Vienna, Virginia, there to catch the Metro into Washington, DC, for the inauguration of Barack Obama. I hate those little cars. I’m tall and not exactly thin, so the combination of compressed spine and the lubricant necessary to squeeze in make an unpleasant experience. But hey, I saved like 11 cents on gas for the week. I’ve done my part to aid, or halt, global warming (I was too frozen to recall which we are supposed to root for on that score.) In my head I kept running down the list: video cameras, check; still camera, check; batteries, check; t-shirt depicting Obama as Jim Carrey’s character in the movie Liar Liar, check. Ready for battle.
The Vienna station was crushed with people. Parking lot so full of Obama paraphernalia, those obnoxious “Coexist” bumper stickers, and people with hair of unnatural colors that I wasn’t sure if it was the line to the inauguration or some kind of ‘-apalooza’ appended event. Silly me … it was both of course.
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