Done with DC, this place is dead anyway

Look man, I was on the god damn green and it wasn't too hard to move around. There were people there, but I got through the checkpoints with no problem and I'm a hella' idiot. So don't give me this business about 'hundreds of thousands had a hard time', okay? You had a party and most of your friends stayed in.

The feeling that morning was almost intentionally raw. It was like Trump needs people to feel like things are a mess so that he has something to do, an excuse for his actions. Mostly, I could feel fear. The people there were happy, celebrating a victory that they felt a part of, connected to, I guess. They were happy that they had put someone in office who they thought might get things done. Someone who would take care of them. Someone who will 'make things like they were' back in this mythical past we all idealize. You know, the one where we had jobs (that we hated) and lots of stuff (that strangled us) and security (that limited our ability to move). They were afraid. Afraid that they might have to do something, and happy that they weren't being asked to.

Later on, in the subway, this thought was reaffirmed when a security officer was trying to get a woman (who, to me, did not appear homeless or crazy) to move along. She had been standing in the station for quite a while. "Quit hassling me," she exclaimed, "We got a new president and I have rights now." Yup. The right to stand in a bus station indefinitely. Let freedom ring.

For me, I'll take the protest. People actually showed up to it. Say what you want about the numbers. Emily and I moved pretty freely through the crowds at the mall for the inauguration. We changed spots several times until we had a prime view of the dumpy people in the Trump hats while they booed our outgoing president and called his wife names, and we could see the capitol building.

The next day, however, the streets were  PACKED! Blocks from the official march route you could still hardly move. The people that showed up have been ignited. The feeling in front of the White House that afternoon was one of anticipation. Did we screw up and let our apathy and comfort let things get out of hand? Yes, we did. Yes, I did. But it was for the best because these people were NOT afraid. They were not there out of fear or longing for the good ol' days. They were there to DO something. They were there to make a change. This was the first step. The peaceful message of "We are awake now, we are ready, please listen to us or this may escalate." This was the opening communication between two sides of the country that are seeing a deeper and deeper chasm between them. I, for one, just want to get on with it.

After the marches, the city was energized. We were tired, but we held doors open for each other. Started random conversations with strangers on the street. There was love, inspiration, joy and community buzzing all around. For a moment, in DC at least, existence was as it should be. I was glad I was there.

Now it's done and we're off to other things. Hopefully all of these people, myself included, show back up when they are really needed. I'd like to think that I will. What else do I have to do? If anyone still feels afraid or less than they should, we ought to change everything that we can until they are safe and respected.

The world has been kickstarted into motion again after stalling out for a brief moment. I suppose that's always the way. I had a minute there where I didn't know what I should be doing, where my own mind was spiraling towards an idealized past. Then, after meeting a spritely journalist with two cats and a nimble tongue, bumping into Jon Voight on the street, and watching Jamie take bullwhip lessons in Union Station I can honestly say that I have options in this world, I am making a plan, I am unafraid, things are changing rather than fumbling around in the loop, and nothing is impossible.