Momentous

So I'm not really sure what to say about The Big Day tomorrow, a.k.a. Barack Obama's Inauguration, a.k.a. Goodbye Dubya, a.k.a. History.

Perhaps you're asking, Why the hell are you writing about it? The only answer I can think of is that I have to.

It's been eight years of unmitigated disaster, the last three-plus of which have been documented from the B&E point-of-view. So yes, I really do have to say something.

My dad's birthday was on January 20th. He'd have been 65 on this birthday, officially a senior citizen. My dad died just over five years ago, before most people had even heard of a certain Barack Obama. I think my dad would've been a real fan. He always appreciated a good speech, and as a church man himself, I think he'd have fond feelings for the inspiring aspects and pastor-like cadence of the speech-maker.

Plus, I think Dad would really like Obama's whole "disagree without being disagreeable" approach. And he would certainly like the way Obama speaks about spirituality and his faith. It disappointed my dad that Democrats always sounded so disingenuous and defensive when speaking about spirituality. And it infuriated him that the Religious Right cornered the market on Christianity in politics, when to him it couldn't be further from "Christian."

He used to tell a story about our years (well, my 11 months; his years) in Florida. It was the late sixties, and Dad decided to take bus full of teenagers from his church in Boca Raton inland a mile or so to a black church, where they picked up a few teenagers for an integrated outing to the beach. Some of the black teens had never seen the ocean before, even though they lived just a mile or two from it.

At the following meeting of the elders, one of them asked my dad if he'd had the bus cleaned and disinfected. My dad asked why, genuinely confused. The elder told him it had to be because the black kids rode on it.

What I don't actually know is the end of that story. Maybe Dad never told me. He told me he was horrified, but I don't know if the power dynamic was such that he had to do what the guy said.

In relating the story to someone recently, I'm pretty sure I said he refused to disinfect the bus, but in thinking about it further, that might be a hole I filled in myself. My dad would definitely stand up for what he believed, so it's possible he refused, but I don't really know.

It's Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and the day before a profoundly historic Inauguration Day. And I'm thinking about my dad.

Yes, I think it's fair to say that my dad would've liked his 65th birthday very much.