44th President Barack Obama's Inauguration

I am at the White House on Inauguration Day. The House and Barack are wired for sound and video. Monitors are everywhere. I hear Barack say, “I ain't having it.” The media are informed they must leave except one. A public access camera crew is chosen because they agree to share the broadcast and not add the usual “let us explain what you need to think” commentary.

Like finding the perfect position in a warm bed, I locate a spot near the president's office and listen to Barack's speech, enjoy the poetry, observe the reactions of those milling about and absorb the essence of the experience. A sleep-deprived guy creeps up and says, “This must be where they transferred me to,” as though I work here. He is wearing a t-shirt and hospital pants. A gray fog surrounds him. I slide aside while still trying to watch the monitor.

As he opens the hidden door behind me. I ask, “Who are you?” in a gatekeeper sort of way. “The cook,” he replies. I follow him inside. It is a small room. The shiny floor slants towards a large window. It continues down and around a few support columns to a counter on the left. Two people move about while another sits. They are preparing and eating frou-frou stuff. I see a fluffy cream topping. I quickly leave shaking my head and thinking there'd better be the smell of grits and eggs soon because Barack ain't having this.

I'm standing on the raised platform that is now the president's office. It has been moved and redesigned to fit this location between the upper two floors. Railing along the front edge connects to steps on two sides. One set connects the two floors and allow an overview. Five steps on the right lead to the office itself. The office is actually an octagon with a mahogany hardwood floor. The entire area is filling with family and friends. Everyone is dressed comfortably in black but there are no tuxedos. Michelle and the kids show up holding conversations all the while. The 44th President of the United States strolls in a little later without an entourage and goes into a side room with a partial glass front. It contains a large table with place settings and desserts. Perhaps this is what frou-frou boys were up to. Barack tells his supporters this is for them. This brings forth extended oohs and aahs as people filter into the special suite.

While everyone is busy feeling irie and ubuntu, Barack somehow slips out. Soon enough I hear a collective surprised gasp. I look around and then at a monitor in time to see Barack with shoes off and pants rolled up, running through their large shallow natural pond. My amazement becomes a smile, laughter and nodding. The room is quickly emptier and I hear a chorus of laughter and splashes as many children and some adults go wading.

For the first time it is a reasonably warm January. The grass is glowing. A subtle breeze trickles through the blades causing sunlight to dance. The elongated pond is surrounded by gentle mounds of various sizes and a garden of native plants. It is a groovy house party!

I am alone in this part of the house. I write, “THE PEOPLE'S PLACE,” on a notepad on Barack's desk. I sit on the steps of the Octagon Office and continue writing: “I can't believe I am actually sitting in the White House on Inauguration Day 2009...”

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44th President, Barack Obama, Inauguration Day 2009, irie, ubuntu