I Wanna Be Elected
Congratulations to Mr. Obama.
Much ado has obviously been made about this Inauguration weekend, from the historical aspects to the ungodly logistical challenge facing the city of Washington (no news to indicate any major failures, though I'll keep an eye on this).
I tried to sit this one out. There was a lot of pressure to participate, but the fact is that I don't like crowds and I don't like the cold (and I don't like tourists....sorry).
Still, I did go to the Manifest Hope: DC art exhibit in Georgetown, where I spotted Maria Shriver. And I also saw Angela Bassett and Danny Glover arriving to the premier of Gospel Hill at the Uptown Theater (along with Tom Bower and Chris Ellis....not stars, but career actors who have worked their butts off over the years). So, I think I had my fun.
Inauguration Day does still remains special to me, though, for a very different reason: Inauguration Day 2001 was the last time I saw my Grandad.
Grandad was starting to fall apart. He still had his wits, and he was only slightly forgetful, if slower for the stress of recent years: He'd stopped taking care of himself after my Grandma died a few years earlier. He wasn't eating, and he'd become rail thin, and clearly very depressed. Things were also beginning to pile up around the house in a way that was troubling.
I'd been visiting him as much as I could, though the trek out to Fairfax made it hard to go more than about twice a month, much as I hate admitting this. (Had they decided to stay in the Porter Street house, I would've been just around the corner, as I was living at Newark and Macomb at the time.....but there's no sense in thinking about all that).
Anyway, my mom had hit her limit, and demanded that she, her sister, and a few of the kids would get together and help him clean up -- do some scrubbing, take out the trash, get rid of the piles of junk mail that Grandad was hording.
Nothing memorable happened that day, excpet that I looked around and realized, prophetically, that if Grandad were to die, we'd be left with one hell of a tesk on our hands in emptying out this house, which had become the dumping station for generations and generations of dead relatives' possessions. So little did I know what the coming year(s) would hold for the family.
I recall my grandfather - a lifelong Democrat - seeming detached and disinterested in W's acention to the throne on that chilly, rainy day.
I remember my mother excitedly demanding that we all drop everything and watch Dunbar's band march in the parade.
I remember being angry that my cousin......the family favorite since childhood.....was not present that day to share his load of the work, because it was more important for he and his then-boyfriend to stand in the rain and protest the new president.
I admit that perhaps I haven't let go of my resentment over that.
To this day, my cousin still mourns his dead grandfather. It's been almost eight years, and still, it comes up every time he gets more than two drinks in him and he wants to reflect on his history of not having his fucking act together.
Perhaps.......just perhaps........if he'd had his priorities straight eight years ago, he might have experienced a little more closure by this point.
I miss you, Grandad. But rest in peace knowing that my grieving ended some time ago. You are at peace, and so am I.
Still, I wish so much that you could have seen this day.
....
My prayers to Mr. Kennedy.
Much ado has obviously been made about this Inauguration weekend, from the historical aspects to the ungodly logistical challenge facing the city of Washington (no news to indicate any major failures, though I'll keep an eye on this).
I tried to sit this one out. There was a lot of pressure to participate, but the fact is that I don't like crowds and I don't like the cold (and I don't like tourists....sorry).
Still, I did go to the Manifest Hope: DC art exhibit in Georgetown, where I spotted Maria Shriver. And I also saw Angela Bassett and Danny Glover arriving to the premier of Gospel Hill at the Uptown Theater (along with Tom Bower and Chris Ellis....not stars, but career actors who have worked their butts off over the years). So, I think I had my fun.
Inauguration Day does still remains special to me, though, for a very different reason: Inauguration Day 2001 was the last time I saw my Grandad.
Grandad was starting to fall apart. He still had his wits, and he was only slightly forgetful, if slower for the stress of recent years: He'd stopped taking care of himself after my Grandma died a few years earlier. He wasn't eating, and he'd become rail thin, and clearly very depressed. Things were also beginning to pile up around the house in a way that was troubling.
I'd been visiting him as much as I could, though the trek out to Fairfax made it hard to go more than about twice a month, much as I hate admitting this. (Had they decided to stay in the Porter Street house, I would've been just around the corner, as I was living at Newark and Macomb at the time.....but there's no sense in thinking about all that).
Anyway, my mom had hit her limit, and demanded that she, her sister, and a few of the kids would get together and help him clean up -- do some scrubbing, take out the trash, get rid of the piles of junk mail that Grandad was hording.
Nothing memorable happened that day, excpet that I looked around and realized, prophetically, that if Grandad were to die, we'd be left with one hell of a tesk on our hands in emptying out this house, which had become the dumping station for generations and generations of dead relatives' possessions. So little did I know what the coming year(s) would hold for the family.
I recall my grandfather - a lifelong Democrat - seeming detached and disinterested in W's acention to the throne on that chilly, rainy day.
I remember my mother excitedly demanding that we all drop everything and watch Dunbar's band march in the parade.
I remember being angry that my cousin......the family favorite since childhood.....was not present that day to share his load of the work, because it was more important for he and his then-boyfriend to stand in the rain and protest the new president.
I admit that perhaps I haven't let go of my resentment over that.
To this day, my cousin still mourns his dead grandfather. It's been almost eight years, and still, it comes up every time he gets more than two drinks in him and he wants to reflect on his history of not having his fucking act together.
Perhaps.......just perhaps........if he'd had his priorities straight eight years ago, he might have experienced a little more closure by this point.
I miss you, Grandad. But rest in peace knowing that my grieving ended some time ago. You are at peace, and so am I.
Still, I wish so much that you could have seen this day.
....
My prayers to Mr. Kennedy.
posted by t-o-n at 3:31 PM
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