Except for a minor stumble when Barack took the oath of office, yesterday’s eggnogregurgitation . . . no, wait, that’s a Christmas event . . . inauguration, that’s it . . . went off without a hitch. Regardless of whether you call it a bumble, a fumble, or a stumble, or a glitch, a hitch, a stitch or a sonofabitch, it was no big deal. Of course, that didn’t stop the media from trying to spin it into something bigger than it was. You’d think yesterday was a slow news day, or something.
When you put the historical significance of the event in proper perspective, it’s easy to understand why something as simple as reciting an oath of office might run off the rails, so to speak. Tensions, excitement, anxiety, and emotions all run high at times such as these, interrupting trains of thought. Let’s just give those guys a pass and help them go on about the business of healing the country.
Besides, two hundred years from now no one is going to remember that, for however brief a time, two men—one a Supreme Court Justice, the other taking the final step to becoming President of the U.S.—were temporarily out of sync.
Barack Obama, with eyes slightly glazed over, was probably thinking, yippy-ki-yay, muhfuh, I’m being sworn in as the nation’s 44th President. How cool is that? Meanwhile, Chief Justice John Roberts, with eyes slightly glazed over, was probably thinking, yippy-ki-yay, muhfuh, I’m swearing in the 44th President of the United States. How cool is that? Neither one of these guys was reading the body language, nor the subtle facial cues, of the other, making a hiccup in the proceedings all but inevitable.
But, hell, I almost didn’t notice. With eyes slightly glazed over, I was thinking, yippy-ki-yay, muhfuh, George Bush is gone, the Bushwhacker is history.
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