Rarely can an event as historic as yesterday’s inauguration of Barack Obama be summed up with one word. But this one is easy: clusterfuck. Never have I been a part of such a piss-poorly managed event in my entire life.
My friends and I waited in a mile and a quarter long line on abandoned I-395. It was like a fucking George A. Romero flick. Occasionally, we were passed by ambulances, EMTs and buses full of TSA agents who apparently went nowhere and did nothing. And we were the lucky ones, because at least we got in. Thousands of legit ticket holders got screwed out of getting in, thanks to the brilliant foresight of the event planners. Seriously, would it have been hard to figure out how many people the event could hold and only print that many tickets? Or to get like, ten fucking cops posted along the streets with signs or megaphone directing the huddled masses to their cattle pens? Nobody had any clue what the christ they were doing. And incompetent leadership coupled with brain dead tourists = FAIL.
All this bullshit of course went down under the guise of “security” and, as usual, it ended up being more of a hassle than it was worth. When we finally crammed in to the gates, just in time to miss the oath of office, we walked through metal detectors and were briefly patted on the hips. Really fucking thorough. It was like one final “fuck you” from Bush as he guffawed his way out of office.
Though I have to say, it could have been worse. No one died, no one was arrested. In fact, the crowds were all very jovial from what I could tell. And the Metro may have run more efficiently yesterday than I’ve seen it run in my entire DC existence. Tourists were tourists, but most were decent. Most were courteous and respectful; they were here to witness history. Others were self-righteous yuppie douchebags glued to their iPhones, Twittering their thoughts so their douche friends back in New York or Chicago or Boston or Seattle could read them and be jealous (unlike me – I continually updated my Facebook status from my BlackBerry!). Still others were mindless morons that thought it would be a good idea to toss their babies in a backpack or a messenger bag and make them bear the cold for hours on end to see something they won’t remember. Many were devastated to find out they couldn’t drink Starbucks/eat McDonald’s/smoke/chew tobacco/be total assholes on the Metro. But again, these folks were the minority for once, and it was a lot of fun seeing America come together in DC for this thing
There are two things we can be really thankful for today. One, Barackstar is here to bring us Hope, Change, Unicorns, Cotton Candy and Ice Cream Sundays. Two, we don’t have to hear about the goddamn Whistle-stop Tour or what dress Michelle Obama is going to wear or how Obama loves basketball or what kind of dog the Obamas are getting.
Wait, who am I kidding? That shit’s never gonna let up. But at least the tourists will go home. And we can look forward to George W. Bush’s post-election antics. Do I smell “Celebrity Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader?”
Y'all are crazy: A rebuttal by a crotchety old cynic, aka Sober Pundit
While Turk and El Braixan foolishly ventured into the Arctic weather and smothering throng of tourons to catch a glimpse of Obama on a jumbotron, I watched the proceedings unfold from the comfort of my friends' couch in Sherman Oaks. That's right folks, I escaped to Los Angeles to avoid the aforementioned hot mess. Or shall I say, "cold mess?" As my colleagues waited in unbearably long lines to be ceremoniously examined by security guards, or to take a piss, I relaxed in my pajamas, sipping freshly brewed coffee and making goofy faces at my friends' adorable 14-month-old son. Sure they got to experience history in the making, which is the same reason the damn fools took a cab from Arlington to the White House on Election Night to drunkenly belt the National Anthem with some fratboys from GW. But there are few things an old fart (I'm 29) like me despises more than crowds, cold weather, and lack of immediate access to a clean bathroom. Nosiree, I'd rather stay home and watch the President-elect and Chief Justice fumble the oath of office close up on a Television screen, with Wolf Blitzer and that prematurely grey homosexual man explaining everything in detail so I don't have to constantly ask, "What did he say? Who's that tramp dressed like a woman for hire?"* If'n I were unfortunate enough to be stuck in the District for this tomfoolery, I would brandish my cane at the audience assembled on the National Mall and scream, "GET OFF MY LAWN!"**
*Turns out it was Dr. Jill Biden
**GET OFF MY LAWN will premiere soon as part of an ongoing series on Excuse Me, is that your Blog? Our senior correspondent, Sober Pundit, will lament all that is wrong with "kids these days" and how their parents raised them improperly.
