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INAUGURATION BLOG: Unclogging the pipes

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7:25 p.m.

My gracious DC host Nick and I decided to venture into the belly of the beast: The Le'fant Metro stop.

Earlier, this had been where the bulk of the record setting Metro traffic (now trickling toward 1 million riders) originated from. We were greeted by what could be described as some postapocalyptic scene. Piles of trash littered the ground. A trail of lost gloves and coffee cups led to the cars, which were crowded and comfy but no longer overstuffed with humanity.

We took the train two stops to Chinatown, where Obama merchandise hawkers were in full fire sale mode. After resisting the urge to buy First Family oven mitts and Barack bottle openers, I finally gave in and bought two Obama hand puppets. I credit the street merchant's compelling hand puppet dance and the fact that he sang "I'm you're puppet" in a nonstop loop to the Eastern Motors commercial jingle.

By the way, it's not a good idea to market your proud new leader as......a puppet.

As the sun dims and the thermometer dips, hundreds of thousand line the streets while a more exclusive cluster starts primping for tonight's 10 inaugural balls. 

Apparently you could still get tickets for a couple hundred to a few thousands bucks even up to a few days ago for these gala affairs. But unfortunately, we're not on any guest lists. And I don't think my homemade, laminated press credential will work magic like it did at the Four Seasons bar last night. 

But that doesn't mean we won't try. We'll at least stalk the entrances creepily even if we can't find any bowties. If this were any '80s movies, this is where we would dress up like waiters and sneak in the kitchen entrance. I got word from a former coworker (and former Miss Richmond) who will be at the Mid-Atlantic Ball, but unfortunately she already has a date. 

In other news, more than 800,000 have taken to the metro. And that's where we're headed right now.  

And finally, there is a tie for the two favorite emails I've received so far – one from my dad and one from my sister. 

From my sister: "I admit, I have Fox on, and I told Ella Uncle Mike is there, and she keeps saying "Mommy, I can't find Uncle Mike ..."

And from my dad: "How is the combination of Indian food, three hours sleep and a lack of port-o-potties working out?" 

Damn that man knows me well. 

1:13 p.m.

 

Words can't capture the string of surreal moments comprising Barack Obama's swearing in as the 44th President of the United States. One minute, you're wondering if there is a chance you can get crushed to death between the closing walls of swarming humanity mere blocks from the Capitol. And minutes later, you're listening to the echoing cannon fire signaling Obama's official reign.

Obama surged through a script of succinct and sweet sound bytes woven around the theme of cautious optimism. He delivered the first words of his presidency with his typical strong cadence and poised manner that overtook the chattering of teeth and shutter snaps of thousands of cameras.

Throughout Obama's talk, he braced the populace for hard times ahead: "Every so often the oath is taken among gathering clouds and raging storms."

But he also hoped his confidence would be contagious. "Today I say the challenges are real…But know this America: They will be met." Obama said.

With more than 1 million gawkers squeezed into the National Mall, straddled across statues and perched atop nearby rooftops, there was even a hint of humor more biting than the cold. Not only did Obama and Chief Justice John Roberts fumble the oath exchange, but when the emcee asked everyone to "Please be seated," the blocks and blocks of onlookers standing in the Mall cheered in irony.

Reports that many ticketholders couldn't get through the gates were confirmed by the fact that I had empty seats on either side of me, front and center a few hundred yards from the dais. One late arriver yelled into his cell phone, "You've got too many people who can't get in. It's insane. This is definitely run by the government!"

Any potential distractions were largely squashed. Bush was booed....but he's used to it. The Rev. Rick Warren didn't chastise gays in his opening invocation. And the tight security paid off. In fact, the ugliest encounter might have happened in the row right behind me, when a sharp dressed man took a women's seat.

The empty seat next to him was covered with dirt.

"I've got a $16,000 mink on," the man uttered in disgust.

They came with snow pants, flags and smiles. Yes, smiles.

Once people found their gates and escaped the mad street scramble, everyone's sense of decency was restored. Apparently Obama is a potent elixir for cynicism and even rudeness.

I personally want to thank the Saris family for shepherding me to the right spot. Without them, I'd be lost and crying on Constitution Avenue.

Now I'm 300 yards straight away from the podium in a comfy plastic seat, happy that I jeopardized extra sleep for the head start.   

7:15 a.m.

 

We're hoping you slept more than three hours last night, but please, don't read into that.

 

My D.C. host Nick and I spent most of the night trying to chase down celebrities like we were a couple of bad "US Weekly" photographers with something to prove. And you know what; we finally found them.

 

After waiting in line 90 minutes at the Four Seasons hotel bar, I "leveraged" my press pass into some absurd story about how I'm writing a story about the fancy drink of every hot DC bar, and if I didn't get in within 10 minutes, they would be left off the list and passed over for Applebes. (Apparently, the chain was doing something called "Margaritas"...interesting.)

 

It worked.

 

And, just as we were finally allowed entrance, none other than Tom Brokaw slipped by us. Of course, the Brittish guy behind us ruined it by extending his hand and greeting, "Sir Tom." Doh.

 

Otherwise, I met a lot of great people with a lot of great stories. One lady had worked the volunteer tent at Sunday's music superstar show and saw two married musicians getting it on...with non-spouses. Another went to a non-profit dinner and ended up attending a surprise Grateful Dead concert. I'll get more into detail in these sweet experiences tomorrow, but there are a million stories like these out there.

 

Now I'm ironing a shirt and getting ready to wait in line and see Obama himself get inaurgurated. Giddy-up.

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