Day One (Sunday, 1/18/09)

I start my day in sunny California, where we have had a recent warm spell. Yesterday the temperature hit 80 degrees, we had the windows open, and I walked outside wearing shorts and a T-shirt.

So began my journey to the frozen tundra of Washington, D.C.

Driving to the airport was uneventful, as was the first plane ride, to catch our connection in Las Vegas. Late in the afternoon in Sin City, we make our connection. People here in the desert are dressed in T-shirts and sandals, as am I. I know, having grown up near Washington, that I am going to pay for this later in the day.

As we board our plane for Baltimore, I notice the prevalence of Obama shirts and hats has increased. The bad news is that as we board, the football score is Pittsburgh 6, Baltimore 0.

We have apparently gotten a plane staffed with standup comedy wannabes. The slap-happy jokes will continue until we exit the plane, but even this is bearable, since at the beginning of the flight (every seat filled) the stewardess asks who is going to the Inauguration. Every single hand goes up. We are among friends.

The mood all around is upbeat and cheerful. This continues, even after (later in the flight) it is announced that the Ravens have been defeated 23-14. No Super Bowl for Baltimore, but this Baltimore-bound crowd remains electrified anyway. There’s a Super Bowl every single year, but we are traveling to witness something much bigger than a mere sporting contest. We are traveling to witness history itself.

The landing is a little rough, but afterward (I am not making this up) the stewardess calls for a round of applause -- not for our pilot and crew -- but for Barack Obama. It was not exactly your normal plane ride, in other words.

We land after midnight. I step outside and am reminded why I live in California (instead of where I grew up) as it is 23 degrees Fahrenheit, nine degrees below freezing. My exposed toes turn a lovely shade of blue.

Can even wimpy Californians survive this arctic cold just to witness one man speak an oath? Yes we can.

[From the Lincoln Memorial Concert I missed, Pete Seeger and Bruce Springsteen:]

In the squares of the city
By the shadow of the steeple
Near the relief office
I saw my people
As they stood there hungry
I stood there whistling

This land is your land
This land is my land
From California
To the New York Island
From the redwood forest
To the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me.

As I was walkin'
I saw a sign there
And that sign said
“Private property”
But on the other side
It didn't say nothin’
That side was made for you and me!

This land is your land
This land is my land
From California
To the New York Island
From the redwood forest
To the gulf stream waters
This land was made for you and me.

-- Chris Weigant