I, witless to History

As promised, here is my on-the-spot report of The Fifty-Fifth Presidential Inaugural Prayer Service, held this morning at The Washington National Cathedral.

First, my assessment of security. The choir had to arrive at 7:45, so that we could be safely escorted through in plenty of time to eat our muffins, warm up, and get to our places. Once we were all gathered at the College of Preachers, a separate building from the main Cathedral, we marched up the hill to a side entrance, where we were to stow any bags or packages that we had brought. Then we had to march back outside, aaaalllllll the way around the building to the main West entrance, where we could be magnetometized and wanded before entering the building. Then we were allowed to proceed to the choir room, where our muffins were waiting.

The choir room, which is just inside the entrance where we had first stowed our bags.

Our bags, which we still had free access to, with NO ONE WAITING TO WAND OR MAGNETOMETIZE US.

Should any one of us taken it upon ourselves to hide, say, an atomic weapon in our Hello Kitty lunch pail, it would have been a pretty simple thing, I should think.

Otherwise, the SS (Secret Service) took every opportunity they could to make us stand erect with our arms outstretched so they could rub their wands all over our bodies. Yes, it’s JUST as homoerotic as it sounds. Several of the choir men commented that they had had many fantasies that began just that way.

Fun Fact for the day: The leading health complaint of Secret Service officers is bladder infections, because once they’re on duty they’re not even allowed to take pee breaks!

We took our places in the Great Choir shortly before 10 o’clock. For those unfamiliar with the National Cathedral, the Great Choir is a little cordoned-off section nearest the altar, separate from the main church, which is where most of today’s action took place. Fortunately, I was positioned in just such a way that I had a perfect view of the ront rows of the nave, which is where the President’s family was seated.

George H.W. and Bar were already in place when the choir arrived. Of course, I’ve already sung for THEM, in 1998 at the University of Miami. I’m certain they would have remembered, had I been able to chat them up a bit. Bar was wearing a black dress with a black-and-white houndstooth jacket, and of course her signature pearls. HW wore the Republican uniform of the day, a dark suit, though he spiced it up with a pale blue shirt and red tie. My 1998 assessment still holds true: she looks great in person, he looks like the Cryptkeeper.

Five minutes AFTER the service was to supposed to begin, the JennaBarbaras traipsed in. JennaBarbara One (the brunette) looked lovely and poised, and a sweet little teal Audrey Hepburn-esque number. JennaBarbara Two (the other one), in winter white, looked, as she always does, a bit...well, dirty. She certainly showed too much cleavage for church, and that’s a fact. At least her hair was brushed, not like at yesterday’s swearing in ceremony when it was secured by a RUBBER BAND and looked all kookity. The JennaBarbaras weren’t hungover THAT I COULD TELL, but I imagine by now they’re pretty good at spritzing a bit of perfume in their mouths, pinching their cheeks and sallying forth to meet the world.

The JennaBarbaras were followed in by the Cheneys. Say, did you know they have a lesbian daughter? Dick wore a dark suit with dark mauve tie. Lynn wore a Norwegian Blue suit accompanied, unfortunately, by MATCHING EYE SHADOW. Dick, as always, lurched along like the Hunchback of Notre Dame and looked as if he begrudged every breath he took.

G.W. and Laura were the last to enter, he in a dark suit with puce tie, and she in a lovely pale pink suit. She really CAN look elegant when she wants to, and I have to tell you that the camera doesn’t do her justice. I always think she has a plump face when I see her on tv or in photographs, but she really has quite strong cheek bones and a nicely defined jawline.

The service began with the singing of “Joyful Joyful We Adore Thee” – all sang except Dick – followed by Reverend Billy Graham’s opening Prayer. He is on a walker, and had to helped to the podium, but he still has a fierce, Charlton-Heston-in-the-second-half-of-The-Ten-Commandments look about him. His hair is so white it glows, his voice is strong, and I do believe he could whup some ass if he really had to. (I do wish he’d whup some sense into that son of his, but that’s a topic for another time). The National Anthem was then sung, and then we all sat down for the parade of multiculturalism:

The first lesson, read in Hebrew by Rabbi Mort Yolkut (A Jew!)
A prayer by Bishop G.E. Patterson of the Church of God (An African-American!)
A Psalm led by Reverend Luis Cortes, President of Nueva Esperanza, Inc. (A Latino!)
A reading by the Meropolitan Herman, Orthodox Archbishop of Washington (A Greek!)
A reading by Cardinal Keeler of Baltimore (A Catholic!)
Prayers by all of the above, plus Cardinal McCarrick of Washington, (another Catholic!)Archbishop Demetrios of New York (another Greek!) , and Imam Yahya Hendi of Georgetown University (gasp! A Muslim!).

The sermon, by Rev. Mark Craig of Highland Park United Methodist Church in Dallas, was some claptrap about living every day to the fullest, and then degenerated into a coy re-wording of Bush’s speech yesterday – you know, spreading freedom throughout the world, yadda yadda yadda.

The choir then sang “The King of Love My Shepherd Is”, the fifth verse of which was my solo verse, written just for me – and JennaBarbara talked ALL THE WAY THROUGH. I can tell you one thing, if we chilluns ever acted up in church, Mother Rubble would have had us outside getting spanked so fast, it would’ve made your head spin! Seems to me a good whack every now and again might do those girls a world of good.

Shortly thereafter, one of the boy choristers lost his muffins in a most ungainly way (apparently, he had eaten lots of cherry Danish). Bless his heart, he had no sooner wretched than he was right back up, ready to sing. But THAT SOUND, and the SMELL, it’s a wonder the lot of us didn’t have one of those chain-reaction vomit-offs you’re always hearing about.

So then we sang “My Country ‘Tis of Thee”. Overlooking a pile of fresh vomit.

The only other dignitaries I was able to pick out were Ruth Bader Ginsberg, who I see EVERYWHERE, and John Ashcroft, who practically fell over himself trying to shake Billy Graham's hand.

Most hopeful portent of the day: Reverend Craig, amidst the claptrap and political shilling, managed to let us know that God actually DOES love Hindus and Moslems and Buddhists and Jews, right in line with the Gospel reading, Matthew 5:43-48;

You have heard it said, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy." But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in Heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect , therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Most troubling portent: The singing of the obscure second verse of the National Anthem, which reads, in part (emphasis mine): “Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just…”

Spreading freedom, indeed.