Julie Zickefoose: InDogural Ceremony

Alone on the couch, watching. Wishing I'd kept Phoebe and Liam home from school to watch this with me, this thing as miraculous as a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis

but ever so much rarer. So rare that it has never happened before.

I was all right until Barack came down the Capitol "crypt," the long dark passageway he had to traverse before he could come out into the light and see the multimillion-soul march that had come to cheer him into office. I saw the look on his face and tears spilled out unbidden.

It was all locked up in that implacable gaze, that set jaw. No Drama Obama is well-named, but I could see it all there.

I was all right until he passed beneath the camera and I looked at his smooth head and started to pray fervently and aloud that all of us, Democrat, Republican, Independent, voter and non-voter, sane and psychotic alike will grant him the time on earth to tackle the fearsome and almost incomprehensible job before him.

Protect this man, this husband to Michelle and father to two sweet girls who is suddenly charged with lifting a nation out of the deepest pit of depression.

At this point Chet Baker decided that I probably needed a toy to play with.

I tussled with Chet and pulled myself back together for awhile until Aretha got up and sang the song that Martin Luther King predicted would one day speak to black people, too.

My Country, 'tis of Thee.

It is her country now, more than it has ever been. Mine, too, more than ever. She was playing ita little safe, not going for the stratospheric high notes any more, and as a singer I understood. She is no longer young, but she was as amazing as ever, and she moved many millions of hearts. Her voice was colored with emotion.

And Chet Baker thought at that point that I probably needed someone on my lap to hug.

And kiss. Pucker up, Mether. Stop crying. Th' Bacon is here.

And although I am jaded enough to be immune to the one-of-each-color kind of multiracial grandstanding that goes on at events like this, the pairing of Israeli-American immigrant,

African-American

and Chinese American musicians playing an air around our Shaker hymn "Simple Gifts" brought me to my knees. I have had a crush on Yo-Yo Ma since he was a resident tutor at my Harvard dorm. I was too shy to so much as knock on his door, but I had pictures of him plastered all over my little cell wall. And there he was playing his carbon-fiber cello because it was too cold for his ancient treasured cello, and I saw him mouth the word, "COLD!" and laugh, and he didn't stop smiling the whole time. Bam, right back in love. And he still doesn't know.

And Barack listened and closed his eyes the better to hear the music and I knew that this man would try even in the darkest time to give the arts their due, for the first time in what seems like forever.

And then it was time for the oath and I laughed and jumped around because I couldn't sit still any more. I loved that the Chief Justice flubbed it and I loved it when Barack jumped in right where he should have, saying, "I, Barack..." and they were stepping all over each other and smiling. It was like wedding vows, almost, where everyone is way too nervous to get it right.

But getting it wrong is somehow perfect.

Bill called from Florida at that moment and said simply, "Amazing." And I wished so hard that he was home with me for this moment.

By this time I have brought the big box of Puffs Ultra to the couch and I'm grabbing them with my right hand and making a pile of crumped up ones like white roses all over the cushion to my left.

And then Barack observes that sixty years ago his father couldn't have gotten served in a restaurant in Washington, and now his son is taking the oath. And I put my face in my hands with the realization of how very far we have come in one man's lifetime.

and Chet decides it is time again for his peppermint bone that's too squishy to shred, and is very special.

It does help to have a toy to play with when you see a living carpet of happy humanity, of people who believe in this man and are here to give him their love and support. The largest crowd ever to assemble on Washington, bigger than the Million Man March, bigger by far than the march to "protect marriage"; bigger than anything anyone has ever seen.

I told you a toy would help with all your crying. I do not see anything to cry about here.

Chet Baker, these are happy tears. It's a girl thing. You wouldn't understand.

La la la la la I can't hear you. Just throw the bone and I will bring it back to you and you will soon forget all your troubles.

There. Now that you have calmed down I can do some real chewing.