Today is the inauguration of Donald J. Trump as the 45th President of the United States. Just writing that sentence is difficult.
The mood in Philadelphia the morning after the election was somber. The night before, Hillary Clinton led a rally at Independence Hall, with both Barack Obama and Michelle in attendance, with entertainment from Bruce Springsteen and Jon Bon Jovi. Several hours before the event, the line to get in stretched for literally a mile. There was a unifying sense of purpose here, a tentative optimism. The day after, it was as though everyone in the City had someone close to them who died. Over 83% of Philadelphians voted for Clinton, so we all felt a profound sense of disappointment, along with an uncertainty for the future. Suddenly, Samantha Bee and John Oliver weren’t so funny anymore.
At the gym this morning was the first time I’ve really been able to pay attention to the news since the election. Before then, I followed the coverage intently. I devoured media, but wrote little. I felt there was little space for my input on what was happening; every news outlet was covering it, with scrutiny that only seems to matter during a Presidential race. There was little need for one more voice when so many people we doing it better.
Now, as Trump is getting sworn in, I hope to end this blogging hibernation and get back to posting here. Of all those who weighed in on what it means to have elected the President we have, as Americans, this quote bears repeating:
“As democracy is perfected, the office of president represents, more and more closely, the inner soul of the people. On some great and glorious day the plain folks of the land will reach their heart’s desire at last and the White House will be adorned by a downright moron.” — H. L. Mencken
