"If You're a Civics Dork, This is Bigger than Christmas."

--Rachel Maddow.

Yes. Up at 7am PST to start the DVR. Will rouse the sleeping Sarcasm Girl, who (last night when we were watching Olbermann and Maddow) started weeping with joy over today's inauguration. Avocado, a little less invested, asked me to record it and let her sleep in. I have promised them sparkling cider and cinnamon rolls, our own inaugural breakfast. Maddow's right: it really does feel a bit like Christmas.

Ted Kennedy is there, looking happy and hale. So is Mohammad Ali (a little less hale) and Magic Johnson, and all of Washington and (if you look at the shots of the Mall) half of America. Hell, Uncle Tom Cobbleigh and all are there. Or here with us, at home, watching TV. It's a beautiful day.

The time has come to put away childish things. The time has come to pursue our better spirit.

President Obama. It's time to roll up our sleeves.

Art and Life

I suppose in honor of today's big news, Bravo is running episodes of The West Wing, which I discovered all unsuspecting when I turned on the TV to unwind after spending the day doing typing and software assessment tests (o! the indignity of looking for an administrative job). Caught the last half an hour of the penultimate episode, and all the last episode, and found myself in a strange, pleasant feedback loop. Matt Santos, the candidate who wins and comes in after Bartlett, was based in large part on Barack Obama. Watching The West Wing used to give me the same frisson of civic pleasure, of the possibility that patriotism and governance might be not only worthy but high callings, that I got this morning watching Obama's inauguration. Art imitates life which is repeating what art already said. Tomorrow is for worries; today is for civic pleasure.