Going to the Inauguration
We worked for Obama (who didn't?) but we never planned to go to the big party in Washington. The money, the crowds, the travel, the money, the travel . . . did I mention the travel and the money? But our son John told me just after the election that he wanted to take his wife to the inauguration, and I asked if he'd asked for tickets.
In the ensuing conversation, I learned that he'd never heard about asking for tickets. Like any good parent, I told him how and who to ask, made certain he'd become known to his member of Congress, and suggested that we double his chances by asking for tickets myself.
I contacted Mr. Dingell's local office to ask how to get tickets, and was told to send an email with certain information -- such as how many tickets I wanted (I wanted two, but since I couldn't give them away, I asked for four), and what I'd like to do once in Washington -- tour the Congress, the White House, anything else . . . (I asked for tours of both, but no other things; no tickets to events other than the Inauguration).
Then I put the event out of reach, and got on with life. Thanksgiving and Christmas were just around the corner, and I wasn't really expecting to get tickets. The more I heard about the Inauguration, the more I realized that my odds were really bad.
My son heard back fairly quickly that he wouldn't be getting tickets. I got an email saying that Mr. Dingell had received thousands of requests for 198 tickets, and that he'd be drawing names during the first week of January. In December, I talked to several friends who were going. One was staying in Richmond, Virginia -- the only place he'd been able to get a hotel room. If anyone asked ME if I was going, they received the same answer -- sure, if I get tickets.
The first week of January came and went. I got a cold and nearly lost my voice. On the 8th, I had a very long day, with meetings starting at 7:30 am and continuing until 7:00 pm. By the time I got home, I had very little left. I announced to my husband that I just wanted to go to bed. While I was checking my phone for messages, he was trying to talk with me about dinner and what had gone on at my meetings.
There was a message from Mr. Dingell's office. We had two tickets to the Inauguration. I needed to call to confirm that we wanted them.
My husband wanted to give them to our son and his wife, and we had some discussion about that. The rules were clear that we weren't allowed to give them away, and on the 9th I confirmed that we couldn't. After that, we had to decide whether to go -- and how to go, and when, and where to stay.
We leave on Saturday. We're driving. We're staying at the home of some people we know -- parents of friends.
I've bought long underwear for both of us, warm socks, and am prepared to get us on the Metro before 6:30 am if necessary to get to the Mall by 8:00 am on the 20th -- so we can stand in our allotted spots for hours, freezing until we can witness history.
What a thrill. I have two really great cameras and a camera phone. I'll keep sending to this blog along the way.
I'll keep you posted.
In the ensuing conversation, I learned that he'd never heard about asking for tickets. Like any good parent, I told him how and who to ask, made certain he'd become known to his member of Congress, and suggested that we double his chances by asking for tickets myself.
I contacted Mr. Dingell's local office to ask how to get tickets, and was told to send an email with certain information -- such as how many tickets I wanted (I wanted two, but since I couldn't give them away, I asked for four), and what I'd like to do once in Washington -- tour the Congress, the White House, anything else . . . (I asked for tours of both, but no other things; no tickets to events other than the Inauguration).
Then I put the event out of reach, and got on with life. Thanksgiving and Christmas were just around the corner, and I wasn't really expecting to get tickets. The more I heard about the Inauguration, the more I realized that my odds were really bad.
My son heard back fairly quickly that he wouldn't be getting tickets. I got an email saying that Mr. Dingell had received thousands of requests for 198 tickets, and that he'd be drawing names during the first week of January. In December, I talked to several friends who were going. One was staying in Richmond, Virginia -- the only place he'd been able to get a hotel room. If anyone asked ME if I was going, they received the same answer -- sure, if I get tickets.
The first week of January came and went. I got a cold and nearly lost my voice. On the 8th, I had a very long day, with meetings starting at 7:30 am and continuing until 7:00 pm. By the time I got home, I had very little left. I announced to my husband that I just wanted to go to bed. While I was checking my phone for messages, he was trying to talk with me about dinner and what had gone on at my meetings.
There was a message from Mr. Dingell's office. We had two tickets to the Inauguration. I needed to call to confirm that we wanted them.
My husband wanted to give them to our son and his wife, and we had some discussion about that. The rules were clear that we weren't allowed to give them away, and on the 9th I confirmed that we couldn't. After that, we had to decide whether to go -- and how to go, and when, and where to stay.
We leave on Saturday. We're driving. We're staying at the home of some people we know -- parents of friends.
I've bought long underwear for both of us, warm socks, and am prepared to get us on the Metro before 6:30 am if necessary to get to the Mall by 8:00 am on the 20th -- so we can stand in our allotted spots for hours, freezing until we can witness history.
What a thrill. I have two really great cameras and a camera phone. I'll keep sending to this blog along the way.
I'll keep you posted.
posted by Sabra Briere | 11:01 AM
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