The true story below is by Rebecca Howell. It was passed along to me from Cobb's count the vote email list. I contacted the writer, Rebecca to find out if she was on this site and unfortunately she had never even heard of Kos.
I am recruiting her to join the ranks because her writing is so refreshing, humorous and colorful. And most importantly because she brings style and flair to the progressive movement.
Please forgive me for posting a story I haven't personally written, but one that I think deserves a much wider audience then the obscure recount email list.
With Rebecca Howell's permission please enjoy her story below the fold
THE CORONATION: January 20, 2005
Why ruin a perfectly good trip to D.C by watching some boring parade?
I have good news and bad news.
First I'll start with the bad. I almost didn't make it to DC at all. Due to a derailed train, the southbound trains to Washington DC were delayed. I was one of the lucky ones to make it on to the 10AM train. I think because the station attendant I flirted with took pity on me. There were lots of suspicious protesting types on board and three of them signed my petition for a verifiable paper trail in Maryland- cool! Now I have 48 signatures (I know, I plan to get MANY more).
The train took us as far as New Carrollton where we switched to the Metro Orange Line. I met a nice school teacher there. She actually works at a charter school in D.C and laughed when I asked if she worked with Jenna Bush. Apparently Jenna is NOT teaching at a DC charter school yet.
Well, the teacher was very nice but she should have warned me that the stop at Stadium Armory was eighteen blocks from Union Station (I don't think she knew). On the Metro map, Stadium Armory was an inch and a half away from Union Station but that translates into a mile and a half. Oh well, I came to DC to be a protestor! Armed with my Barbara Boxer For President bumper sticker safely adhered to my giant orange purse (that I bought for $ 150 in NYC, while I was there protesting the RNC). Little did I know at the time that orange would have such significance to the voting issue (Ukrainian Orange Revolution- in case you wondered).
My friend was at 4th and Pennsylvania Avenue waiting in a two hour security checkpoint. She called me on her cell phone and explained that there was no way I would be able to bring my large handbag in. Well, there is no separating me from my Ukrainian Orange Revolution bag! Lucky for President Bush, I had a more important person to see. I walked the 18 blocks through the snow covered sidewalks to the Hart Senate Building. There I personally delivered a letter to Barbara Boxer's office, lavishing her with praise, and an 8x10 computer generated picture of my two adorable sons saying "Thank You, Senator Boxer." Oh, I also left a Barbara Boxer bumper sticker. In return, the receptionist, who never took the phone away from her ear, gave me an 8x10 glossy of Barbara- autographed with her real signature (not a copy). I was impressed and plan to hang it above my computer. My senator, Sarbanes, didn't give me anything when I met with his intern in September- another reason I won't vote for him in 2006.
From the Hart Senate Building, I made my way to Union Station to find out if there were going to be return trains from there. As I approached Union Station, security guards were shooing taxis away. That wasn't a good sign. I saw white tents with red carpet and catering trucks and media entrance signs too. As it turns out, Bush had taken over Union Station with his Freedom Ball, which was being set up by volunteer boy scouts. As I walked by the happy party planners, flaunting my BARBARA BOXER FOR PRESIDENT bumper sticker, I discovered that there had been a derailment but the evening train would be running on time.
Now, to find a television. I wanted to see what was happening on Pennsylvania Avenue. I left Union Station in my fancy winter white swing coat, matching hat and gloves and heard a weak voice to my right. It was a homeless man, who commented that this was a good day for him for a change (with all the activity and wealthy people around). He asked for a dime- I gave him twenty dollars. The contrast between the lavish party being set up right next to him and his own ratty looking clothes and my nice ones, was very sobering.
To reward my good deed and tired feet, I walked to the nearest restaurant, an Irish Tavern. I almost didn't go in, figuring it would be filled with rowdy Republicans. But my sore feet overcame my reservations. It was packed and there was a hush over the room. In the corner was a TV screen with President Bush saying his inaugural address. To my right at a bar table for four were two young guys wearing Running Against Bush long sleeved t-shirts. I politely and quietly asked if I could sit with them. They were very accommodating and I am proud to say that while sipping my Chardonnay, my Back was turned to Bush during his boring speech. The two guys loved the Barbara Boxer For President bumper sticker on my purse and asked for some. They in turn gave me their own Running Against Bush sticker (they literally ran to the Irish Pub- 10 blocks, which of course I was thinking big deal since I just hiked 18 but whose counting). They were funny protestors, which face it protestors are pretty serious and bring people down. So these fresh faced nice protestors were fun to hang out with. They said I had to drink every time Bush said Freedom or liberty. Anyway, eighteen Chardonnays later (just kidding, I had one) I left the bar and headed back toward Union Station.
I was beginning to have fun and thought it might be interesting to bar hop and talk to people. I almost dismissed the next place I came to called The Monocle. It looked a little stodgy. But as I was passing I saw a familiar face. One that is hard to forget, Senator Olympia Snowe. So being the brazen woman I am, I just walked up and said hi. She said "Oh hi Cassie (or Christie)". I said "oh no, you don't know me but I know you." To which she smiled and shook my hand. I said something like "It's nice to meet you." Then she went inside and the man she was with held the door open for me. So, what was I to do? I knew immediately I was in Republican heaven. I went to the bar with my Barbara Boxer For President bumper sticker facing toward me, so as not to ruin everyone's lunch and possibly get tossed out. I sat with two nice Republican women, who had come from the inauguration. They said it was just ok. Then we talked girl talk and it was fun. My purse was by my feet with the BB for Pres sticker facing the mahogany bar. After finishing my drink, I got up with every intention of making sure the ladies didn't catch a glimpse of my sticker. However, somehow (I am not joking) the bumper sticker had adhered to the bar. Now splattered on this Republican mahogany bar was Barbara Boxer for President. I left it there and left quickly.
I was starting to feel like an undercover reporter at this point and decided it might be better not to advertise that I was a protestor. So I walked another block to the Red River Grill, which was closed for remodeling. So I turned around figuring some local could give me a tip on where the DC crowd goes to drink. Low and behold, who comes up to me but Russ Feingold and his wife. They were dressed in jeans and leather jackets but I never forget a face. He was really nice and down to earth. He said he had been at the inauguration and thinks that it is polite to go. I asked him what he planned to do for the rest of the day and he said that it was their wedding anniversary. I can't tell you what a genuine guy he is. He looked down and complimented me on my Orange purse, which by the way another lady walking her dog had just said the same thing. So, now you know that my purse is awesome.
They walked off waving goodbye. I'm not kidding. They treated me like a peer not just some tipsy star-struck fan. In any event, there were no more decent looking places to eat. But I was on a mission to meet people so off I hunted. Well, are you ready for this.... I hit pay dirt. I came upon a long white tent leading to a building. Three guys in matching blue wind breakers were manning the door. The party was for the Heritage Foundation, which is a Republican think tank. I walked up to one of the men and enquired about the party going on inside. He gave me a smile and knowing full well that I didn't have an invitation opened the door and ushered me in. I got midway down the tented entrance to the building and nearly turned back when I saw a menacing looking security guard but he simply held the next door open. I breathed a sigh of relief. The people inside were dressed in navy blue or black with large name tags on. I was a sharp contrast in my Ukrainian orange and white ensemble but no one seemed to stare. Gulp. Then a tall official looking man came up to me and directed me over to the name tag table and cloak room. I sort of just stood there and he again signaled me to go to the name tag table. So I walked over at a snail's pace and pretended to wait behind some other people. He walked away. That was close. I decided this was ridiculous, that I was crashing this Heritage Foundation party. I walked outside for a minute and then thought, aha! I walked in and asked to use the Ladies room. When I came out of the ladies room, I noticed a large nearly empty room with lots of food. Having not eaten yet, I walked around selecting from the mini sandwiches and trying to eaves drop on secret Republican think tank talk. I left the food room and looked around. There was a huge theater size projection TV in another room where the Republicans could get their fill of the inauguration via (yes, you guessed it) Fox News. It was time for me to hightail it out of there. I filled up a plastic plate with sandwiches and ate a few and gave the rest away to an appreciative policeman directing traffic.
Now, just so you don't think that I am a lousy protestor, my purse and I did walk from Union Station west to 12th street (a long walk) to find a real protest. I was told that there was one between fifth and sixth but when I got there I didn't see anything other than policemen dressed up in paramilitary gear with helmets and face shields. I started getting excited. I put a Barbara Boxer bumper sticker across my white hat thinking I was in protest central. I only saw one person getting arrested and many people asked for Barbara Boxer stickers and really seemed to love her. However, there were three wacked out teenagers singing made up lyrics to the National Anthem. They were so awful to look at that I swear the Republicans must have hired them to make the rest of the protestors look bad. Now, I am truly not trying to be mean and conformist but what white girl with dirty teeth and braces wears beige dread locks fashioned into a giant bundle on top of her head. She was a joke and I think protestors are great but some people just want to draw attention to themselves and not the cause. Believe me, even if I looked like Pamela Anderson, I wouldn't wear a bikini to a protest. The emphasis should be on the cause and not detract from the cause.
The Good News is that the inauguration is over.
Rebecca Howell
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