Of shameless advertising, granola vests, and the causes of political stonewalling

Any Washingtonian knows that the Metro system is the nerve center of humanity for any large-scale event in the city, whether you’re talking protests or the Cherry Blossom Festival. I know from my experience four years ago that inaugurations are no different, and today I find myself weaving between roaming groups of tourists. They travel in pairs, in dozens, in near-formal dress and completely casual, some prepared for the cold and others not so much. Some are trying to get an Obama chant going. Most are too busy trying to figure out which direction to go in order to reach their desired destination to notice. A few more experienced travelers have the wherewithal to comment on the nauseatingly plagiarized Pepsi banner ads around the station, trumpeting the words “HOPE” and “SOUL” and “ALL ABOOOOOOARD” (a shameless allusion to the President-elect’s apparently very exciting train ride). Of course, they don’t think it’s nauseating; they think it’s wonderful. I am curious about how many of them claim to hate corporations except when a corporation happens to align itself with their political philosophy.

But maybe I’m just projecting that on them because I am with but not of this group. Amid all the “O” caps and buttons and American flags, I am standing out like the sore, Kool-Aid drinking Republican thumb that I am. Or at least I feel like I am. Everyone who looks and smiles at me is doing so because I fit in the demographic of their kind: I am a woman in her mid-twenties wearing a granola vest (see picture). I must be excited about this inauguration. But I’m not. Does that make me a bad American?

More like a bad world citizen, I remind myself as I listen to the group of men next to me. I think they’re speaking French. The other day I ran across a group of German folks who had just arrived, presumptively for the inauguration. I guess I should be proud of the fact that so many people from other countries want to come and witness our transition of power. It shows there’s still value placed on the process, despite other nations’ often condescending view of America. You don’t hear about internationals (other than heads of state, perhaps) visiting for the inauguration of Vladimir Putin or Gordon Brown. It seems like this should be America’s day, but I’m sure it's overly nationalistic of me to think so. The world has declared their liberty to claim America’s leader as their own when it’s someone they like.

I step onto a train – at least they’re running on a rush hour schedule all day, that makes things bearable – and observe among the crowd, near the other door, a young man wearing a Republican elephant paired with an American flag on his lapel. I try to smile at him, to thank him for being so brave, but he won’t look at me. I think it’s the granola vest.

And we wonder why political dialogue doesn't go anywhere in this country...