October 20, 2008
Columbus Day 2008
Monday morning, 6:45 am Debo and I are on the metro rushing to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Key streets downtown are blocked off; Silvio Berlusconi, the Italian prime minister, is here; plus the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund are having their annual meetings.
Off the metro at 7, two blocks north of 1600. Traffic’s jammed in all directions; dark suits and shiny shoes everywhere.
The back of my right foot is working up a blister from a new Rockport.
I have in the pocket of my 20-year-old sports coat two gold-embossed tickets for admission to the White House grounds - two more bodies in the crowd for the presidential greeting ceremony for Silvio Berlusconi.
Appropriately, it's Columbus Day. There will be one other craftsman of Italian heritage in the crowd that I know. Our tickets came to us thru a friend we have in common at the State Department.
The feeling of actually being part of the official scene here is of course a big departure from both of our morning routines: Debo lying in bed reading the paper to her dog and surfing the internet; me walking around in a fog trying to decide what flavor of sawdust I’m going to make.
We walked past the front of the White House and turned onto 17th street to the west entrance of the White House grounds. I know enough now not to carry my German switchblade on occasions like this, so we sailed through the security scanner with just coins and cameras and emerged onto the south lawn of the presidential mansion. People in the growing crowd were speaking Italian. That always perks me up.
The audience is split into two roped off viewing areas, east and west, on either side of the podium, which sits on a red carpet.
We were in the west area. Facing east, the White House is on our left. Over that shoulder is the rose garden and the west wing portico with the oval office at the end. The trees are labeled. There is a silver linden still with green leaves. It might be worth being president just to live here; there is a little putting green. It is very pleasant.
To our right in the distance across Constitution Avenue is the Washington Monument. On the White House side of that avenue is the placement of the cannon for the morning's 19-gun salute specified for prime ministers. I hear these salutes from our home in Arlington; on this day I saw the smoke.
They opened the gates at 7, we got there around 7:20, and after another 10 minutes of walking around dazed in these famous but generally inaccessible grounds we realized the crowd at the rope was now 4 heads deep and we missed the best view.
The grass is about 3-inches tall and wet. I feel a limp coming on from my new shoe blister. I’m wishing I had spent Sunday getting a haircut instead of buying new shoes.
The color guard from all the service branches came in: stern faces and clicking heals. Bob Tomallo, a grade school classmate used to do these ceremonies when he was in the Marine color guard 40 years ago.
Now the shouted commands have an occasional female voice. I smile to myself recalling the old timers at the newspaper where I once worked cynically proclaiming 'who let these women into the newsroom???"
With the military units and band in place, the Old Guard Fife and Drum Corp. marched in. The band played several familiar tunes which I can no longer name.
Finally the limos arrived: Cheney, Condi, ambassadors; Berlusconi limoed from the Blair house across the street. I wonder if he admired the mahogany and verde marble menu stand I made for the Blair House dining room?
The trumpets sounded and W and Laura walked out of the White House.
Silvio and Bush inspected the troops. They passed right by us; I got a lame photo with camera held overhead. We listened to the speeches from our remote positions. Italian translated to English. English translated to Italian. I caught a few words.
Burlusconi spoke of the time his father took him to a cemetery in
Rome where a number of American WWII soldiers were buried. He said his father told him it was because of the sacrifice of those buried here that he is free today and able to go to a great school in Rome.
He said Italy will always be a friend to America.
He's a charmer. I damn near cried.
Cheney, known as Satan by some people I know, and Condi sat right in front of our section's rope. We were four heads back; we didn't know they were there at the time. Good thing, my wife is kind of volatile, certain things set her off.
One gets jaded living here. I have watched the July fourth fireworks live on TV when I could have seen them by walking a few blocks to a line of sight in my neighborhood.
It was beautiful sunny day, and warm, so I didn't need the formal overcoat that I don't own.
I was getting a heady feeling being present at what seemed like the big event in town today, amidst invitation-only guests on the grounds of the most famous address in the world, spitting distance from the top three people in the government, and the president of the United States of America welcoming the prime minister of the great country of Italy...
And my wife is chanting from the back of the crowd at a half whisper: Obama...Obama...Obama....
Posted by ronpaci at October 20, 2008 10:31 PM