air and simple gifts

The inaugural was perfecto. My hubby and I sat with our whiny, wiggling three year old.."Mommy, but you promised me you'd play the Princess Memory Card game! Turn this off!" and watched history being made. Elizabeth Alexander highlighted the inaugural with her poetic splendor and Aretha got it going on with song. John William's quartet piece was perfect, laced with a bit of Copeland, (my fave..played as me and the ole ball and chain walked down the aisle after getting hitched)...and to see a Jew, an Asian, an African-American and a Latina bring it's notes to life moved me beyond measure. That's America, friends!

Dr. Lowery was fab and his words were especially poignant. Just to think...shoulder to shoulder he stood with MLK himself, and on this sunny, crisp, beautiful day in January, after 87 long years on this old ball of rock..got to see everything he's dreamed of and thought he'd never be able to see in his lifetime. Don't even get Mama going on Obama and his magnificent speech. Oh, hallelujah...to have an orator again...it gets this old gal all verklempt. And was I the only one blubbering? I looked for my pal, Jesse, but couldn't find him. I knew he'd be right there with me. I told my hubby if that were his bespeckled self, standing with his hand on Lincoln's 148 year old Bible, no less than 2 million peeps whooping and hollering, I'd be snotting up a storm. Oh, well, I guess that's why I never went into politics. Emotional basket case.

Yesiree, ladies and gents, our new and genuine Mr. President looked hip and cool from head to toe sitting down to chow on his duck breast with cherry chutney and herb roasted pheasant while I munched on some leftover spaghetti and a slice of wheat bread. Oh, yeah..and one tiny slurp of lime Perrier since W. drank it all last night. Blast her. Ms. Michele, all newly birthday-ed, was simply divine in that gold number (just in time for Oscars!) and her munchkins were cutie-patooties in their fashions. Oh, what a glorious morning, and what a red, white and blue Grey Goose fete it will be as the lucky few get to dance and sparkle their way through the Balls. Wish I could be there, but Geez has a closing shift tonight. Bummer.


P.S.) And no, I didn't leave Mr. Warren out of my commentary by mistake.