Immediately following the night of November 4th, the tears, the screaming, the donuts purchased by my boss the next morning, I wanted to spend January 20th in D.C. But as this date drew closer, I knew that D.C. wouldn't see any part of me. I worried about what I would tell my children. Would I need to apologize for not having taken the pilgrimage? Would I have an interesting tale to recount in lieu of the trek? ......Of course I would, I'm me! However, I didn't want history to have passed me by while I was looking the other way. I wanted to do this date in a big way but as today unfurled, I found myself drawing ever more inward.I watched Barack Obama be sworn in at my office this morning. Our office sat in our lounge gathered around the television commenting on the enormous crowd, the bewildered look on W's face, that huge bedazzled bow on Ms. Franklin's head, John Williams' composition, and finally Mr. President's speech. How beautiful and heartfelt the words! How mature. How necessary. How confused I was as to how I would spend tonight.
I confess. I'm a booty-shaker. I'm that first girl on the dance floor, grinning ear to ear, feet on fire, party whistle blowing, grooving as if no one was watching. I don't need a reason to dance and I think today's events definitely warranted some serious two-steppin'. However, as I considered my options...the local Inaugural Ball, Poetry Nightclub, The Yardhouse or various other venues, I was torn. I didn't want to dance. I wanted to think. I wanted to be still and listen for the whisper of the universe. I wanted to be touched by the new consciousness. I wanted to shut my eyes and feel the hopes of our ancestors pass over, around and through me....
I decided to go to The Porchlight Grille.
The Clark County Democrats hosted a respectable little shindig at one of Las Vegas' many neighborhood bar/casinos on the far west side of town. I walked in to a crowd of middle aged, sequined jacket sporting campaign donors. They were seated, clutching their complimentary drinks, pleased with their victory in officially turning Nevada Blue and finally being on the winning team after eight years of a fiery Red hell. I went into networking mode, shaking hands, making a mental note of faces that I'd seen before and would probably see again. CSPAN played moments from the day on a large flat screen. I sipped Riesling and ordered a sandwich. One question on my mind: Do they get it? Before long, I was joined by an older couple, Yesper and Sandra and their friends Esmerelda and Yvonne. We exchanged business cards. Discussed how times have surely changed. Described our involvement in the campaign. Our hopes for the new administration. Fundraising. Oh gosh, here we go. Here's our chance NOT to make it all about donation! Don't you get it? I snapped a couple of pictures, inhaled the air and then asked for my check.I realized then where I wanted to be. The love of my life lives in Georgia. I live in Nevada. I just wanted to be near him. Not necessarily speaking. Just being and understanding that now is exploding with potential for greatness.... surpassing that of our imaginations... if we just dare to think beyond. He would understand as none of these folks would, God bless 'em. He would get it, and forgive me for wanting to escape early and leave the rest of Las Vegas to drink in the name of Obama. I envied those folks snug at home perhaps listening to their children excitedly recite the events of their young day. I drove home in silence. Checked the mail. Refilled the kitties' food dish. Knock on my door while sitting down to write this blog. Beautiful white lilies delivered just because. Just another reason why I love him and ache for him at this defining moment.
Party girls get lonely too...
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