Exhale To The Chief

Many people, some of them the owners of "Better Blogs Than Mine," have weighed in today with their thoughts and feelings about the inauguration of our new president. Having read several accounts and, therefore, believing my thoughts influenced by them, I feel I am incapable of giving spontaneous, original breath to the telling of my experience.

I did watch, however, the live CNN stream from the comfort of my desk at work, shooting the stink-eye back at my former supervisor (who was kicked upstairs and still has weight to throw around the office) when he shot me the stink-eye for sitting at my desk doing nothing. Everybody else was gaping at the inauguration, so why can't I?

But I digress… I watched. I teared up. I was moved by President Barack Obama's words and by the almost audible sound of the shifting weight of American History. But, strangely, the President's words didn't fill me with the urge to cheer.

Instead, my heartbeat steadily increased as CNN dragged out the heavily inflected "drama" of the day with a nearly turn-by-turn account of the former president's departure from the White House. My emotions reached their zenith when the commentators finally shut their yaps for nearly a full minute while a solitary TV camera captured the lonely image of the helicopter, its rotor spinning, its blades invisible, as Marine One's pilot throttled up the engine and cranked the collective, beating the air firmly into submission, and the helicopter lifted off, carrying Mr. Bush away to the rest of his life.

As the aircraft grew smaller in the grey Washington, D.C., sky, very few words could express my emotions:

Good. Fucking. Riddance.


°