Our Inauguration Day
For one day, we started off united
A lot of us here at The Experiment pitched in to record how we spent the historical day on Wednesday, January 20. We inaugurated a new administration and experience a peaceful transfer of power. The lack of a crowd around the capitol made the inauguration seem like more of a made-for-TV event, and the emotional payload of deactivating the bomb that was the Trump presidency gave it an immediacy many of us were unprepared for. Here is how we experienced the day.
The first news of the day broke a minute after midnight when the Associated Press reported that Donald Trump pardoned or commuted the sentences of 143 people, which did not escape the notice of Andrea Eaton, a project manager in Boston.
“Trump just pardoned 140 people. SHOCKING. Way to procrastinate to the last minute, bro,” she noted.
A lot of us were up early. At 4am the news broke which executive actions Joe Biden had planned for his first day at work.
As dawn broke, so did the spirit of unity.
On ABC’s Good Morning America, Kate Bedingfield, Biden’s incoming communications director, was asked whether Biden has had any direct contact at all with Trump during the transition.
“He has not. No,” she said.
Trump was busy that night. Besides ensuring that his adult children had round-the-clock security for life, he made things harder for queer homeless kids.
Meanwhile, back in Boston, Andrea was awoken by her new puppy, per usual. Since her job was eliminated she’d stopped setting her alarm. Now she gets up when her dog needs to pee. She checks the news, and other than the pardons, everything seems… peaceful. “I squint my eyes in disbelief. Will today be this chill or is it the calm before the storm?”
Shortly before 8am on the east coast, the Bidens and Kamala Harris and her righthand Doug attend mass at the Cathedral of St. Matthew the Apostle with Mitch McConnell, Nancy Pelosi, and Chuck Schumer. A mile and a half away, Marine One lifts off from the South Lawn of the White House, carrying Trump away for the last time.
It got… weird.
In DC, editor Bradley Peniston is up to watch Trump leave the White House, which is about six miles south of his neighborhood. CNN is playing on the laptop on the kitchen counter. His wife is wearing the Scranton Electric City T-shirt Bradley bought for her on Mystery Weekend 2012. Their kids are up, too, so he sees Trump sees Marine One lift off. “We look at the full-page photos of Biden and Harris, and I tell my kids (again) that this is a historic moment. We talk about how we would have gone downtown to watch it in happier times.”
“All is quiet on my phone,” says Andrea, who feeds Zora and puts on a pot of coffee before eating a bowl of cereal and watching dog videos. “Too nervous to watch news or ask Alexa to play NPR.”
Back in Austin, political consultant Sonia Van Meter wakes up “drunk from happy dreams about what the day holds. Not even kidding.” Smiling, she puts on her black Kamala For The People T-shirt over a thermal longsleeved shirt. She wears her nice jeans because she wants to look nice for Kamala.
The news says Trump left a note for Biden after all. The news does not disclose what it says.
Andrea thinks about lighting a cigarette but decides not to. She picked up smoking for the first time since college last August after her prior dog passed away and then kept it up when she lost her job. “Part of me wanted a cigarette as the helicopter flew off, but part of me could finally see that my brief flirtation with lung cancer is soon coming to an end,” she said.
Sonia is doing whatever the opposite of doomscrolling is. “Joyous posting on social media about how awesome today is going to be,” she notes.
Bryan Burrough, an Austin-based writer, wakes up and turns on CNN while his coffee brews. “Grateful to see Blitzer, so less preachy than other CNN stalwarts. I’ve been watching CNN a lot since Election Day, and though I’m a Never Trumper, I’ve been struck by how it’s all but given up reporting actual news in favor of allowing anchors to take turns launching anti-Trump screeds. Normally I love Jake Tapper, but he’s just gotten a little unhinged, just endlessly going on about how awful Trump is.”
In Georgia, writer Robin Whetstone finally wakes up after her alarm goes off three times.
Over on the West coast, consultant Marlene Saritzky wakes up in the Bay Area, asks Alexa for the news, and then goes back to sleep. Today’s going to be easier than expected even with Trump’s get-out-of-town sendoff at Joint Base Andrews before boarding Air Force One to fly to Florida.
Up on a mountain in central Oregon, my Auntie Ginger Durdan-Shaw was sitting on the couch with Uncle Bob. “Tears and cheers! It’s all so encouraging, but its Kamala that gives me goosebumps. She smiles with her eyes, so even wearing a mask her amazing warmth and energy comes through. And she can’t stop hugging people!”
Back in DC, Bradley is glued to CNN. “Watching again as Trump takes the stage at Joint Base Andrews to a 21-gun salute. That’s more artillery than I get when I fly, but it’s a fraction of what the outgoing president wanted. Backstory: starting with Reagan’s departure in 1989, the serving Secretary of Defense and Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff have hosted a farewell ceremony for each departing commander in chief. These generally happen a week or so before the inauguration. But this time around, when the military would have been finalizing plans for Trump’s sendoff in early December, the president was still denying that he’d lost. So no planning, no party. On Jan. 14, Defense One — the national-security website I work for — broke the news that Trump would have no special military sendoff. Within a day, White House aides were scrambling to see what they could gin up. Could there be a parade? A flyover of jets? Now, watching CNN, I see what they managed to rustle up: a color guard, a military band, and some field guns.”
Down in Georgia, Robin arrives at radio station to do special NPR coverage of the inauguration to cover for her sick co-worker. She’s brought the kids because she can’t leave them at home by themselves. They’re alone, for now. She puts them in the common room and goes into the control room. Her boss has left her a bottle of homemade Kahlua next to the radio control board. She hasn’t had a drink since March. She considers drinking the whole bottle right then. “You can’t do that,” she thinks. “There’s no mixer.”
“Trump is speaking,” reports Bradley, “and, no surprise, lying. He says he appointed ‘almost 300 federal judges’ (actually, 261). He claims (for the 160th time, Daniel Dale reports) to have passed the VA Choice health-care law signed by Obama. Etc. He praises his family, several of whom he appointed to lucrative government positions.”
“I hope they don’t raise your taxes. But if they do, I told you so,” Trump says. "People have no idea how hard this family worked."
“Christ, gotta have his little military cosplay at his Bring-A-Friend surrealist improv show out by the airport,” texts political consultant Scott Remley.
“I’m so popular with the people. So popular,” says Trump on the radio. He says that “coronavirus numbers have skyrocketed downward.”
“Surely this man has heard the word ‘plummet’,” Robin thinks, eyeing the Kahlua.
“Why does he still insist that the 1918 pandemic happened in 1917?” texts political consultant Josh Nanberg.
“You can’t work harder,” says Trump. “You’re going to see some incredible things happening. And remember us when you see these things happening. … I’m looking at elements of our economy that are set to be a rocket ship up. It’s a rocket ship. We have the greatest country in the world. We have the greatest economy in the world. So have a good life. We will see you soon.”
“Washington’s farewell address, this is not,” texts Nanberg.
“Trump's departure ceremony is so on brand,” writes Jessie in New York. “He's so petty, so small, so amateur, so everything except what a president should be.”
Sonia makes her bed. Still feeling giddy, she ponders breakfast.
Over in Georgia, Robin runs into the common room to check on kids’ school ten minutes before she gos on air for the programming break. Her son Jack is playing on his Nintendo Switch. He says his school computer went dead all of the sudden.
“Is it plugged in?” she asks.
“No,” he says. She plugs in his school tablet but forgets to take the Nintendo.
Down in San Antonio, retired journalist David McLemore is awoken by his dogs earlier than he’s used to. “I caught the only image I care to remember of Trump’s farewell -- Marine One taking him from the White House. Adios, mofo,” he writes. “MSNBC is now running through the litany of words about the upcoming inauguration. They are full of hope and so am I.”
In New York, Jessie Daniels is up and the coffee is on. “Countdown to 12:01pm starts now.”
Sonia turns on CBSN and catches Trump’s departure. “CBSN is slobbering some version of ‘this is the day he finally became the president.’ Hold back vomit,” she writes. “Black male correspondent on the ground responds to white lady anchor with a bit of ‘Hmmm… ALLOW ME TO RETORT.’ Quotes Maya Angelou and Alexis de Toqueville. Here for it.”
“Tears spring to my eyes. He’s gone.”
“In absence of celebratory champagne, decide celebratory popovers are required for today. Reflect on the poor decision that was 2021 Dry January. Realize we don’t have milk. Off to the store I go,” she writes, as CBS shows Air Force One flying away toward Florida. The chyron reads: “We will be back in some form.”
It’s a workday in DC for Bradley: “I hop online and find my co-editor has already started writing Defense One's morning newsletter, leading off with Biden’s first-day plans. What’s the subject line? ‘Trump leaves?’ Nah, let’s look forward, not back. We settle on ‘Biden’s first moves; Austin’s vows; New DOD team; IC’s biggest challenge’ Should we mention that the COVID death toll just topped 400,000? Remind everyone that an unfathomable number of these were doomed by Trump’s actions and inactions? No, my co-worker says; everyone already knows. We settle for a few bullet points about Biden’s public-health plans.”
Up in Boston, Andrea’s ready to get moving. “After 43 mins of dog videos and petty Trump memes, need to take the dog for a walk to burn off the anticipation that is causing me to constantly recalculate how many minutes until 12:01pm.”
At that moment, Houston writer Jenny Johnson is preparing to move her son into a college dormitory in San Antonio. “I’m getting coffee in the hotel lobby when the NYT bulletin pops up on my phone saying Trump has left the White House in his helicopter. Tears spring to my eyes. He’s gone.”
Back in San Francisco, Marlene wakes up again, thinks about taking a quick walk, and goes back to sleep.
I’m getting milk with Sonia. Rather, I’m in the store while she gets milk and I look at Twitter on my phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing what he said.”
“Why?”
I close Twitter.
Checking out, the cashier asks how we’re doing. “I’m GREAT! I’m getting a new president today!” says Sonia. The cashier beams. She notices his pride scarf hiding under his sweater. They gab and giggle about the new era to come. He kindly gives us a bag of free almonds.
David is watching MSNBC and learns that Capitol Police officer Eugene Goodman, who faced down members of the mob that breached the Capitol on Jan. 6, preventing them from entering the Senate chamber, has been elevated to serve as the No. 2 security official in the Senate for the inaugural events on Wednesday. He also served as the official escort for Kamala Harris to the podium for her swearing in. “As the acting deputy Senate sergeant-at-arms, Officer Goodman, a Black man who fended off a mostly white throng, is part of the official escort accompanying Vice President-elect Kamala Harris to the platform outside the Capitol where she will be sworn into the nation’s second-highest office,” he notes.
Sonia begins making popovers. Twenty minutes later, they go into the oven. “Never used this recipe before. Looks dicey. Begin anxiously awaiting.”
Bryan has a brisket taco for breakfast. “Blitzer is keeping things sober on CNN. David Axelrod is on hand as political eminence, which is fine, though I much prefer David Gergen. Anyone but Doris Kearns Goodwin. Oof, she’s bad. Interesting little segment on what everyone will be wearing today, designers etc… How refreshing to hear about something so trivial,” he notes.
By now, Alexa is nudging Marlene out of bed. “Alexa wakes me up and reminds me that I have a weekly conference call at 7am,” she writes, leaving her enough time to make coffee and check the news.
While the popovers bake, Sonia turns the news back on. “Still puzzling at the measured tone all the anchors use to describe the last four years. It's like none of them were actually paying attention,” she writes. “Observe on TV folks strolling into inauguration stands. Every single face is masked up, some even double masked. You wanna attend? NO FUCKING AROUND. Not a nose bridge in sight.”
“Dunno why this all feels so anticlimactic,” notes Bryan. “I was as invested in the last ninety days drama as anyone, and yet now, well, I’m craving some kind of release and not feeling it. Some kind of moment when you feel like our national Grendel has actually been destroyed. I’ll keep watching.”
Sonia has no such problem feeling the excitement. She pours her first cup of tea at 10am eastern. “So jazzed I didn’t even realize I wasn’t caffeinated.”
Marlene makes her weekly client conference call on time.
In Georgia, Robin’s boss calls 32 seconds before she has to go on air to tell me to monitor the squawk channel for breaking news “in case all hell breaks loose.” As she’s doing the break, Jack walks into the control room but thankfully just stands there quietly. I finish the break.
“You sounded good, Mom. Can you fix my Nintendo?”
She runs into the common room to confiscate his Nintendo and rushes back into the control room in time to catch the end of a squawk message. It turns out it’s just about break times. She feels shaky, like if she leaves the room something bad will happen.
Sonia is not working today: “More joy posting and scrolling on social media. Liking the holy shit out of all my friends’ posts.” She catches a whiff of her popovers in the oven and hopes they the come out OK. A few minutes later, they’re done.
“First taste of very strange looking popovers. HUMMINA. So delicious, even if they look like sandworms.”
“Time to get our TV working,” says Bradley, who’s eager to share the day with his daughters. “Problem: our pandemic rabbit has chewed through the TV cables. Run down to the basement to find extra cables.”
David sees Ted Cruz arrive at the Capitol for the inauguration. “One has to wonder why. MSNBC’s Brian Williams ponders how Cruz must feel, given his votes against accepting the Electoral votes that made Biden president and how the insurrectionist mob videotaped themselves saying Cruz would approve of their carnage.”
Shortly after, the Bidens, Kamala, and her righthand Doug arrive. “Fighting an urge to stand and applaud,” writes David.
“They’re actually remarkably on time,” observes CBS.
Andrea has one work meeting. “Can’t go fast enough.”
Sonia is ebullient. “Furiously tweeting how awesome everything is today,” she writes. “I mean aside from COVID, a crushed economy, and our stature in the world so utterly diminished.”
Virtual school is done for the day in DC, so “the kids join my wife, me, and Nancy, our Chinese au pair, in watching the PBS feed,” writes Bradley. “I’ve had enough CNN for one day. How does anyone watch cable news for more than a few minutes at a time? I explain to Nancy that America’s formal government occasions often have a religious aspect to them, in apparent tension with the whole church-and-state thing.”
Bryan’s watching the arrivals and starting to feel it. “Nice to see Dan Quayle, the Clintons and others taking their places. Just an overwhelming feeling now: OMG. Grownups! Grownups are once again in control of the reins of power.”
Over the loudspeakers, the announcer is starting to name the diginitaries: “The honorable William J. Clinton, and the Honorable Hillary Rodham Clinton.”
“Yeah,” says Sonia. She’s been waiting for this small measure of justice.
Auntie Ginger notes that Bill’s mask is down below his nose. “Not intentional I assume, just lazy, sloppy.”
Out on the West coast, Marlene goes to pick up her weekly CSA veggie box and listen to CNN on Sirius radio. She’s regretting not seeing the arrival of the dignitaries. Please, no one tell her about Michelle, who’s strutting in a plum outfit with matching long coat and gold belt, black hair shining in waves over her shoulders
“She looks like a goddamn super hero,” swoons Sonia. “Woman looks like a cross between a Marvel Avenger and Beyoncé.”
In Boston, Andrea finally turns on the coverage. “It is weird to watch live TV. I only do it for political stuff these days. Lately, it has been to stare disgustedly as the current administration defiles our democracy. Today is different!”
“Here come the justices. Wait. Where’s Thomas? Alito? Are they boycotting?” asks Bryan.
Sonia’s “puzzled why the anchors can’t stop reflecting on ‘what happens to the average Republican voter now?’ NO ONE CARES.” She eats her third popover of the morning slathered in pear and orange marmalade she made herself. “It’s a goddamn party over here.”
Marlene runs into the house, dumps her CSA box on the kitchen floor, grabs a blanket, hits the couch, and fires up the remote for CNN.
Bryan has “deeply mixed feelings at seeing Pence. Obviously complicit in everything Trump brought upon us. Yet in the end, he did the right thing, probably destroying any chance of the presidency in 2024. Should I feel warmly toward him because he did what he was supposed to? Probably not, yet somehow I do. He stood up against the crazy. Gotta give him that.”
The announcer on CBS notes, “Joe Biden loves people.” After the last four years, apparently that’s noteworthy.
“Is that A-Rod?” asks Bryan. “Jeez, talk about a strange comeback. Looking sharp, though. Wait, Jimmy Carter is still alive, right?”
“The mask game is strong among the new administration,” writes Jessie in New York. “Jill Biden has the matching outfit-mask thing down really well. Also, does Doug Emhoff have the biggest mask in the world? The mask covers almost his entire face. It's like a FACE mask for real. Very meta.”
Kamala walks out into the sunshine to shouts of “Kamala!”
Jessie’s pumped: “Kamala looks so fierce today. I always thought I'd be super excited about the historic first of a female Veep -- and I am! -- but I'm also just like, what took so long?”
“It is the continuation of that sense of joy that that has overtaken America today,” writes David.
Kamala bends to kiss a Black girl on her forehead. Sonia is sniffling.
“Already getting misty,” writes Sonia. “That purple on Kamala is GLORIOUS.”
The Bidens walk out to sustained applause. “I have never cried at an inaugural before,” notes David. “I think that’s going to change.”
“Here comes Biden, and you know what I’m thinking? It’s been thirty-odd years since someone attempted to assassinate an US president. How long till one of these Trump crazies takes a sniper shot at Biden? It’s gonna happen, you know it will. If I was a betting man, I’d put the over/under on Biden assassination attempts at two,” notes Bryan.
At 20 minutes past the hour, Senator Amy Klobuchar takes the podium. “Yep. Definitely getting misty,” writes Sonia, who realizes with “glee we’re reentering an era of proper speechwriters. Allah be praised.”
Down in San Antonio, Jenny is putting the fitted sheet on her son’s twin bed in his dorm when an NYT notification pops on her iPhone that Amy Klobuchar has started the ceremony, “way earlier than I was expecting. We finish up and rush back to the hotel, streaming the ceremony, me hitting my first full ugly cry when Lady Gaga sings the National Anthem.”
Out in San Francisco, Marlene dials into Zoom for inauguration group experience with friends. “They want MSNBC, I want CNN. I relent.”
A Marine escorts Lady Gaga down the stairs, her red skirt presenting an apparent complication.
“The Marine escorting Gaga seemed … not sure how to navigate the dress,” texts Nanberg.
“Was the mic always gold? Or did Lady Gaga get a special one?” asks someone on another text chain.
“It turned gold when she held it,” I answered.
“Lady Gaga always comes to slay,” says Jessie. “Loving her Rapunzel vibe today. Being able to turn your hair into a ladder to escape seems a pretty metaphor to mark the end of Trump years.”
“Lady Gaga singes the national anthem and I am crying like a baby,” writes David.
“Lady Gaga, you gave me chills. Beautiful chills! Beautifully done,” writes Andrea.
“It… kinda rocks,” notes Sonia.
The camera angle captures Mike Pence six feet away from Lady Gaga. “There’s a pairing for the ages,” notes Bryan.
Marlene’s getting teary texting with friends, getting more teary marveling at the peaceful transfer of power that’s “WAY better without Trump there.” She analyzes what Pence and McConnell are thinking and wonders if she likes Nancy Pelosi’s blue shoes or not. Then she gets “really teary at VP swearing in with Justice [Sonia] Sotomayor”
In San Antonio, Jenny pulls over to watch Harris take the oath.
“Madame Vice President Kamala Devi Harris. Hot damn,” writes David.
“Okay, Sotomayor’s first words. First time I’ve choked up,” writes Bryan. “This is amazing. So Harris is sworn in. Weird couple minutes. Donald Trump is still president. Kamala Harris is his vice president. If Trump’s helicopter goes down in the next 90 seconds, would Harris be president for a few minutes?”
Andrea is sobbing. “Kamala. So proud to be an American woman today. You are so glorious in purple. I don’t know if we can really mend the divisions between the extreme parts of the Republican Party. They might need to be cut off like the gangrenous infection they are, but perhaps a new face of conservatism can come forward and offer some potential for a balanced, blended approach to governing.”
In Austin, Sonia sobs. “Me Sonia not Justice Sonia.”
“And just like that, Mike Pence is just a dude,” texts Eric Heggie, a union organizer.
“Why is J.Lo here?” Sonia asks.
“J.Lo doesn’t get the gold mic,” someone on a text chain notes.
“Do you think Mike Pence shat his pants when J.Lo inserted ‘justicia para todos’ and ‘Let’s get loud!’ into ‘America the Beautiful’?” asks Andrea. “Maybe just a little shart.”
“And just like that, Mike Pence is just a dude.”
“Jesus this has been a long time coming,” says Sonia as Biden takes his oath.
“I may not agree with Justice Roberts on many, many things, but I do respect his balanced leadership of SCOTUS. If you had told me when Bush made him Chief Justice that he would be among my favorite active Justices in 2021, I don’t know if I would have laughed or cried. The image of him swearing in President Biden is hopeful. Two principled men who disagree can come together to make sure ‘democracy has prevailed’ and will continue to do so,” writes Andrea.
“So help you God?” Roberts asks.
“So help me God,” Biden answers.
“We have a new president!” writes Jessie.
“And we can all breathe again,” says David.
Robin’s no fan of Biden, but she feels briefly not terrible. She applauds, alone, in the control room and considers getting on the microphone and saying “woo!” to everybody.
“JESUS CHRIST. My livestream went out for a second and when it came back the image was pixelated and Joe’s head looked messed up and I nearly had a heart attack thinking something terrible had happened,” writes Andrea. “I need to go clean out my pants now. It will be a long time until I am not constantly terrified of something terrible happening to our leaders in DC.”
Biden made his case for unity in a time of division, truth amid disinformation, and reconciliation against racism.
“Great speech by Biden,” says Auntie Ginger. “Filled me with hope. Bob really loved the term, ‘uncivil war.’ The unrest has been really upsetting him - I think he feels a lot better now.”
“I’ve been so nervous about everything coming off without disruption or violence, so focused on him safely becoming president, that I had completely forgotten he was going to give an inaugural speech,” notes Jenny. “It’s a great speech and everything starts feeling real.”
“Joe Biden is now officially president and is still giving his inaugural address centered on unity and overcoming the evils of the past. The sense of relief is almost overwhelming. And welcome,” writes David. “Hope is a powerful thing and it has been restored. Our job is now to make America better than we found it. I’ve never felt more certain that we can.”
Says Bradley, “My god, it’s good to watch a presidential speech unlaced with easily debunked lies.”
We can join forces, stop the shouting and lower the temperature. For without unity, there is no peace, only bitterness and fury. No progress, only exhausting outrage. No nation, only a state of chaos.
“Mmm-hmm,” agrees Sonia.
The cry of racial justice is 400 years in the making. White supremacy and domestic terrorism—we will defeat them.
“I have to say, I didn't realize how emotional I'd get hearing the President (!) call out the threat of white supremacy after years of so many of us ringing the alarms. There is so much work ahead but it's worth really appreciating this moment,” emails Amy Spitalnick, who runs an organization that sues neo-Nazis.
“I think my blood pressure has dropped 10 points as Joe Biden speaks in coherent, complete sentences tinged with respect and compassion - and sounds fucking PRESIDENTIAL,” writes Andrea.
Robin does a quick station ID. Her boss arrives at station and is clearly upset that the kids are at work even though he’s trying hard not to be. Her daughter Merrill comes in in the middle of all of this to ask for a pen and won’t leave after Robin gives her one; she hangs around, eavesdropping. Her timing is awful. Robin snaps and yells at her to go back to the break room. Her boss looks embarrassed and concerned. Robin tells him about an article that said that all of the 144,000 people who left work in the last jobs report were women.
“I can’t remember the exact figure, but it’s something like that,” Robin says.
He looks shocked and says, “These are not normal times.”
“Second cup of tea. Or third. Who even cares. We have a new president. One who cares about us,” writes Sonia.
Marlene did not think about Trump at all. “Keep CNN on, doze off a bit but keep watching — the departure, Arlington, motorcade, parade. Tom brings me toast and coffee,” she writes. “Feeling so hopeful. Feeling relieved. Much work to do, but it’s gonna get better.”
“I can’t even cry, I’m too emotional. And I am totally a crier,” writes Andrea. “As much as you want to criticize Biden for past misdeeds or being just another old white guy, he understands the pain of our current moment in history. He understands the divisions we face. The despair. Let’s hope he can do something powerful with that knowledge.”
“Nice speech. Mostly I was happy he didn’t stumble or forget anything,” notes Bryan.
Few were ready for the impact of Amanda Gorman’s poem. Her words landed, knocking cracks through which catharsis escaped.
There is light if we are only willing to see it. There is light if we are only willing to be it.
“So begins my induction into the Amanda Gorman fan club,” writes Sonia. “This woman is AMAZING.”
“Amanda Gorman just won Inauguration,” writes Jessie.
“Holy shit. Woman, you are fire. You are amazing. Permanent goosebumps. ‘Delayed but not defeated.’ This young woman is the star of the hour. Ok, now I am crying. Be the light, Amanda. I will do my best to shine with you,” writes Andrea.
“I've been in darkness since November 2019 and the intervening days of 2020 did nothing to bring light. But the absolute joy that sprang from this presidential inaugural, the signals of hope and hard work ahead, were underscored by Gorman's brilliant words. We are the light that will make things work. I've never been more certain,” wrote David.
“I love that the swearing in ceremony showcased incredibly talented women. From Amy Klobuchar’s enthusiastic speech, to Lady Gaga nailing the ‘hardest song in the world to sing’, to JLo being super cool JLo, to Justice Sotomayor swearing in OUR FIRST WOMAN & WOC VICE PRESIDENT!!!, to the stunning Amanda Gorman,” writes Auntie Ginger. “No offense, dudes, but women are so much more enthusiastic and fun to watch.”
“There is so much hope today. It can get better,” emailed Alexandra (Xander) Meise, a lawyer and educator who defends democracy.
An hour after Biden became president, we’re starting to take stock.
Sonia looks up from social media. “The real world looks different.”
“I had forgotten the life that a prenup-free marriage would give me from the White House,” emails a friend.
“After lunch and watching all the ceremonies, I suggest to my son that we head back to the dorm, and he tells me he doesn’t need any more help. I’ve been dismissed. The transfer of power is complete, from Mom and Dad’s house to campus life,” writes Jenny.
In Georgia, Robin leaves work and goes to the elementary school to pick up supplies for kids. Schools went back to virtual four days before they were supposed to go back in person, so they’re having to hand out materials for upcoming weeks. She stops at the gas station for a gallon of milk and a king-sized Kit Kat to split with kids. At home she calls her mom to rehash the inauguration. “In August I bet her a donut that Trump would find a pretense to declare martial law to try to stay in power,” she says. “I lost, she gloats. She got her first shot yesterday and feels fine.”
Robin never drank the Kahlua.
Back in Austin, Bryan is “trying to see what I feel, and it’s relief. Just relief. Relief at something approaching normalcy returning to our national life. Normal press briefings. Tweets with no exclamation points. Professionalism. Dignity. Respect. Liking what I’m seeing so far, much as expected — or hoped.”
Out in San Francisco, Marlene takes a break. “Try to get teenager out of bed (he watched some of it from his room).”
Up in Oregon, Uncle Bob goes outside and cuts down four trees. “He’s feeling better,” says Auntie Ginger.
“Stumps don’t lie,” says Uncle Bob.
And in New York, Jessie gets the last word: “It's interesting how irrelevant Trump seemed during the inauguration. We're so used to him sucking the air out of a room (or out of a country). But while His Pettiness was on his way back to being Florida Man, for at least a couple of hours, official Washington moved on. It's like cutting someone you don't like out of the photo. If only it was that easy...”
What do you think of today's email? I'd love to hear your thoughts, questions and feedback. I might even put ‘em in the newsletter if I don’t steal it outright.
Enjoying this newsletter? Forward to a friend! They can sign up here. Unless of course you were forwarded this email, in which case you should…
If your new year’s resolution was to lose weight, try Noom, and you’ll quickly learn how to change your behavior and relationship with food. This app has changed my life. Click on the blue box to get 20% off. Seriously, this works.
Headspace is a meditation app. I’ve used it for a couple years and am absolutely shocked at how much it’s taught me about managing my inner life. Try it free for a couple weeks. Don’t worry if you’ve never done it before. They talk you through it.
I now offer personal career coaching sessions through Need Hop.
We set up a merch table in the back where you can get T-shirts, coffee mugs, and even tote bags now. Show the world that you’re part of The Experiment.
We’ve also got a tip jar, and I promise to waste every cent you give me on having fun, because writing this newsletter for you is some of the most fun I’ve had.
Forget the Alamo: The Rise and Fall of the American Myth by Bryan Burrough, Chris Tomlinson, and myself comes out June 8 from Penguin Random House. There is no better way to support this book than to pre-order a copy. You’re going to love reading what really happened at the Alamo, why the heroic myth was created, and the real story behind the headlines about how we’re all still fighting about it today.
