"The great thing about America is everybody should vote." - President George W. Bush

Bob picked me up around 9, and we hit the road, accompanied by Gina, Ben, and Jim. The drive got hairy at times, as a huge icestorm hit central Pennsylvania. I hyped up the Breezewood, PA Petro station (à la my previous article) but the actual station was a bit of a disappointment--the Taco Maker was closed, and the giant Petro mugs were no longer being sold.

We arrived in DC around 3, due to Bob's cautious driving speed of 45 mph the entire time, and met up with the other car of Pittsburgh friends. We were staying at the home of someone that our friend Justin "Moshmaster" Cummings knew via the Internet. She was very gracious and didn't mind having 9 rambunctious strangers in her house at 3 AM. Sleep deprivation really kicked in, and I started to actually hallucinate! Sadly, I slept only about 2 hours, but our antics were the most fun I've had since 5th grade sleep-overs.

Saturday morning came, and we quickly marched out the door and towards the Metro stop. We had stayed in a fairly affluent neighborhood of DC near American U., but when we got to the Metro stop we began to see protesters all around us. Perhaps they were just college kids, but they all looked pretty similar to us, and as we rode into town they increasingly multiplied.

I sort of half-expected to see cops fighting anarchists and burning police cars when we exited the Metro station at Farragut North, but apart from the frequent police sirens it looked fairly calm. We headed towards Pennsylvania Avenue, pairing up into some sort of buddy system. I was quickly dubbed the Social Democrat Drone Bloc, though I was alone in the struggle. At 14th and Pennsylvania, everything seemed to explode.

There were about a thousand people crowded together, I guess as part of the Inaugural Action Center protest. Someone on a megaphone was shouting about something and people were just running around everywhere. It was barely 10 AM but people were in full force with signs, costumes, and pamphlets.

The anarchist Black Bloc began their march, coming out of the IA Center protest and into town, carrying their "Class War" banner. Most of the Pittsburgh contingent opted to join them, leaving only Bob, Gina, Ben and myself. We spent the next hour pacing around the Inaugural Area, unsure of what to do, before deciding to enter the checkpoint at 13th and Pennsylvania.

The checkpoint was rather brilliantly designed--there was only one cop checking people, creating a bottleneck that kept most people far away from Pennsylvania Avenue until well after noon. We waited about an hour before making it to the front of the checkpoint. As I didn't have a bag, I was waved in without a second glance. I could have strapped explosives to my entire body.

Once inside the protest area, things became somewhat like a giant street party. We walked first to the right, along the bleachers, where thousands of protesters were all together with their signs. We were just waiting for the parade to start (and it was scheduled for 2:30, but didn't come by us until 3:30) so hours were passed shouting various chants and just hanging out.

The right side, oddly, was filled with protesters, while the left side seemed to be filled with Republicans and Bush-sympathizers. I'm not sure why people naturally gravitated that way. There was a lot more room on the right, so perhaps that had something to do with it. The huge courtyard slowly filled with people, and we just... well, hung out. There were thousands of people where we were at, and we stayed there all day. That's not counting thousands more at other protests--the Supreme Court protests, the Dupont Circle protests, and just hundreds of smaller groups roaming the streets of DC. No one gave an actual estimate but there had to be AT LEAST 20,000 protesters across the whole city.

Where we were at, everyone remained peaceful (yet angry). I was struck by how "together" everyone felt--there were clearly a lot of different viewpoints represented, but everyone was united against a common enemy. The younger crowd made it feel like being at the largest show ever, except without music--lots of people were dressed similar to the show-going crowd here.

During the pre-parade wait, a lot of protesters decided to taunt the line of police officers that stood on the other side of the fence, between the protesters and the parade. This sort of pissed me off, as the cops were just doing their jobs, and they seemed to be handling themselves very well. Luckily, they ignored the shouting and nothing happened. I stayed towards the back, mingling around and looking at people and their signs.

There were some really amazing signs, though I preferred the haphazard, homemade signs to the slicked-out computer-designed ones. The highlight had to be the 6-foot high swastika with W's face in the middle, but what I found most charming were the really obviously homemade signs carried by some senior citizen protesters. People grabbing an empty pizza box and scrawling "I hate Bush" in permanent marker just seemed a lot more honest to me. Other great signs: "Clarence Thomas: The only black vote that mattered," many variants of "Hail to the Thief!," and a 7-foot wide banner proclaiming "Revolution has to happen: why not now?" held at chest level by a very old man for most of the day. The Billionaires for Bush or Gore people were in full force, and one of their older soldiers won my award for Favorite Protester (and we mistakenly thought it was The Nation columnist Alexander Cockburn, but that's a whole other story).

Right in the middle of the courtyard was a glass media booth with mounted loudspeakers. Around 2:30 the Official Parade Announcements began. We were standing a few feet in front of the booth at this time, and as soon as the words "Welcome to the Inaugural Parade of George W. Bush!" were heard, protesters began chanting "Bullshit!" so loud that the loudspeakers were barely audible.

Some crappy old actor was introduced and got on the mic, saying something like "I understand why you're angry, and you certainly have a right to be angry" before he was silenced. Protesters pulled out the cables to the loudspeakers, and the announcers soon left their booth (and the parade was to proceed without them).

The weather was bitingly cold and a light drizzle made it colder, but everyone just seemed to have so much energy that it didn't matter. Before the parade, some Republicans on the balcony above the courtyard began taunting the crowd, holding a "Honk if you love GOP" sign. About a thousand people started screaming back at them, with various taunts like "Jump!" and "Fuck you!" A collective mooning then followed.

The parade finally came by, and people ran to the front against the fence, shouting "Not my president!" and other angry slogans as it proceeded. I want to re-emphasize that the area we were at remained completely peaceful, and no one had any trouble with the police (who I think handled themselves very well). The parade only took a few minutes to pass--and I could barely see it as I was behind the crowd--and then the crowd dispersed.

We walked out of the protest area with about five thousand other people. The day's work was over, and we had helped to do our part. And then it was time to get ready for the inaugural balls!

Ben and I decided to go to the Texas Inaugural Ball, as we thought it would be the most fun. We changed out of our wet protest clothes and into our tuxedos. I even donned a cowboy hat! Even though I'm not from Texas I wanted to play the role so people would like us more at the Ball.

Our limo dropped us off in front of the blue Washington Civic Center and we were greeted by members of the press and the Texas Republican Welcoming Committee. Inside the ball we were served filet mignon and veal cutlets in the shape of the state of Texas. We mistakenly thought that this would be the ball that ZZ Top was playing, but instead we got some sort of wedding band. I picked up their CD though and promised to review it for the next issue of fakejazz.com, but somehow I lost it during the madness.

We had even more fun at the ball than at the protests! I danced with a bunch of great senators--even Phil Gramm and I got down to "You Light Up My Life"-- but we couldn't get John Ashcroft to shake his booty! George W. himself made only a brief appearance, but I must say he looked good and not at all distressed that his parade had been ruined. And Laura, the new first lady--wow!

I didn't see my main homeboy Antonin "Scalpel" Scalia, but I guess you can't get everything you ask for. Anyway, the ball was great and definitely worth the $125 we paid. We danced until 1:00 AM, and maybe had a bit too much wine, cause I seriously overtipped the waiter. Oh well--I can't wait for that tax cut!

Back at the hotel, I reflected on just how successful the day had been. The other Pittsburgh contingent (who had marched with the Black Bloc) had far more exciting stories to tell--fighting cops, throwing rotten fruit, etc. I'm not really in support of the anarchist cause, but I guess they are on the same side of the fence as us. Our peaceful protests probably accomplished just as much--showing dissent in a creative and confrontational manner--and didn't break any laws. But they get all of the media attention or what little there was. They did manage to turn an American Flag upside down during the parade, though, while we just screamed.

It was thrilling to witness both sides of the political argument in America. I know that protesting won't change policy or make an applicable difference, but it has to be done, doesn't it? Somehow I came back a little bit more cynical than when I arrived. Sure, Bush stole the presidency and represents a bunch of despicable causes, and our shouting won't reverse any of that. But by being there, I felt like I was showing that we disagreed, and that we felt strongly enough to freeze to death while sleep-deprived to show it. Sadly, the media basically ignored the protests and attempted to gloss over the dissent.

Maybe the only actual thing I accomplished (besides stuffing up a toilet at the Ball, but that's another story) was to shout at the parade as it went by. So, I helped to annoy Bush for 30 seconds. But I guess that was worth the trip, wasn't it? (It was better then the veal cutlets, at least.) As our friend Jim Robinson said, "Can you imagine if it was your parade--your supposed day of glory--and there are 10,000 people shouting 'Not my president!' and throwing rotten fruit at you?" And when I think about it that way, I guess it really was "worth it".