Cocoon mode* - day 13: Three shots through the windshield: rain falls, I see the darkness of the day in the clouds above me and on the road in front of me; Taco Bell money taker

It has been a unusually warm and pleasant September, but today was cool and rain fell from dark clouds. A voice on the radio said there could be significant snowfall in Hatcher Pass tonight. That's fine with me. Let the snow come. Let it move swiftly down the mountains to cover this valley in white, because the colors that have taken the green from our trees will now fall fast. The light of the day will grow ever more brief and dim. I will welcome the white of the snow.

Not all the darkness that I saw while driving today came from the clouds above me.

The Wasilla Taco Bell is rebuilt and open. This young woman is about to take my money. In exchange, a young man at the next window will give me tacos, burritos and Pepsi. 

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month.

Cocoon mode* - day 2: From Monument Valley to Wasilla, with love and longing; Margie hobbles into the grocery store; Obama stands as my warrior

Lavina received some pictures in the mail from her sister, Lori, showing her two children, Sage and Jayden, in Monument Valley, where Lavina's father originated. Lori, who is on top in a hard battle against cancer, now lives in St. George, Utah, but had returned with her family to her ancestral home for a visit.

Lavina wished that she could go down, too.

Actually, when I look at this picture, I kind of want to go wander around down there a bit, myself.

Margie got out of the car and went into Carr's to do some shopping. It was the first time that she had been in a store since she fell and broke her femur at the knee on July 26.

Tonight, we ate spaghetti.

Earlier, I took a break from work to join her to watch Obama deliver his health care address. Our President made me proud - and hopeful. He laid out his plan with force and clarity and called lies lies. I have made some of my complaints about my insurance company known here and I won't bother to again, but this is a battle that he fights for me.

*Cocoon mode: Until I finish up a big project that I am working on, I am keeping this blog at bare-minimum simple. I anticipate about one month.

Sarah's Way turns sloppy and mucky but I face up to it; memories of the Lone Ranger; a DC-3 flies above me; yesterday's crime scene marked a shooting incident

This is what I faced this morning when I stepped out of my house and onto Sarah's Way to begin my walk. As sloppy and messy as it looked, I did not let it stop me. I walked right through it.

Seldon was dry when I reached it. I had not walked far before a pink truck came from behind. In all my decades here, this is the first pink truck that I have ever seen on Seldon.

On the other hand, I have seen this orange truck many times. I've never seen it move, though.

As you can see, we here in Wasilla are in constant touch with all the world. Some people think that we are all hillbillies, but they are wrong. Not that there is anything wrong with being a hillbilly. I think I could enjoy being a hillbilly, if I did not love Alaska so much.

As I have explained before, there are no hillbillies in Alaska, but rather, Mountain Billies.

I was pleased to see a Douglas DC 3 fly by overhead. I just wished that I were in it, in the left-hand seat, doing barrel rolls and figure eights. Maybe this very airplane helped us win World War II.

At three in the afternoon, Margie and I ventured over to Well's Fargo Financial Services to talk finance with this man, Chris. Alongside the desk where he sits is a huge photograph of a stagecoach and I liked it, even though it was canned. 

It reminded me of my own stint with the Lone Ranger. I wanted to take a photo, there in Chris's office, with the stagecoach mural in the background. But photography inside the bank is prohibited, since someone who is both exceptionally bright and in a position to lay down mandates and rules believes that a bad guy might look at such a photograph of a man sitting at a desk in front of a photo of a stagecoach and suddenly figure out how to rob that bank.

So I had to photograph Chris outside with the calendar as a stand-in for the mural.

As any American of my generation knows (and even Chris, who is of a different generation, knew), the Lone Ranger, with help from Tonto, did, in fact, break up many stagecoach robberies.

As for my stint with the masked man, it happened when I was very small and lived in Pendleton, Oregon. At that time, the Pendleton Roundup billed itself as the biggest rodeo in the world and when I was four or five, we learned that the Lone Ranger was coming to town to participate and that he would ride a stagecoach in the parade.

Then came the disturbing news, relayed to me by my big brothers, who could read the newspaper. According to news accounts, my brothers told me, when the Lone Ranger got off the plane, no one was there to greet him. Later, someone found him crying at the airport, because his feelings had been hurt.

I refused to believe this, because the Lone Ranger I admired would never cry. No. You could shoot him in the shoulder, and still he would not cry. He would get up, punch and fight and shoot the gun that you had shot him with right out of your hand.

Yet, even my Dad claimed to have read such an article.

It pained me to think that Dad would lie like that. I wished that I could read the paper for myself. I would prove them all wrong.

Come parade day, the Lone Ranger did ride through town on a stagecoach.

Guess who got to climb up on that stage coach, sit beside him, and ride a tiny ways with him, before being replaced by another little kid?

Yes. Me.

It was thrilling. And it was terrifying. To a tiny boy, it was a long way down from that stagecoat seat to the road. I feared that I would fall and shatter my shoulder - or at least my skull. So I sat beside the Lone Ranger and bawled. Part of the time. But then I got brave and smiled. Until it was time to get down. Then I bawled again.

"You're just a damn bawl-baby," my brothers told me later.

And later in life, when I was in college, I not only got to meet Tonto, but to photograph him. Jay Silverheels, the actor who played Tonto, came to BYU with Chief Dan George and I met them both, talked to them both and photographed them both.

I wonder where those photos are?

After we finished at the bank, we went across the street and joined these two ravens in the Taco Bell Drive through.

As to yesterday's crime scene, it turns out that was a shooting there. Fortunately, nobody got hit. You would be hard put to find anyone in Alaska who favors gun control, and I certainly do not. Guns are too important to life here; too many people depend on guns to live, and the idea of taking them away is irrational and stupid.

But what do you do about people like the man who shot up Tailgaters yesterday? It could have turned out much worse. Or how about all the mass murders lately, elsewhere in the US? At least two carried out by men who, in part, justified their actions through their irrational - yes, Glenn Beck, IRRATIONAL - fear that President Barack Obama was going to take their guns away.

The question is a vexing one. That man, and those who committed these murders, should not have guns. But don't even think about taking my gun away.

Oh, wait! I sold most of my guns during times when I needed money more than guns, and then lost my last rifle - a very fine lever-action 30-30 - after I crashed my plane and someone stole it from the fuselage before I did my recovery.

But I still have my shotgun. You can't take it.

And I will get another rifle. Maybe this fall. One with a fast bullet - maybe a .270. Or perhaps one to replace that good, old, reliable, powerful, hard-hitting 30-06 that I loved.

Don't even try to stop me. 

Catch 22 upon Catch 22: I could blame the ravens, but actually, it is all my fault

I want to go to bed right now - in fact, I wanted to go to bed an hour ago, but I have fallen behind on this blog and if I don't catch up right now, when will I?

I have a good excuse. I had a little project that had to be postmarked no later than March 1 and it ate up all my time, day and night, and then after I drove to Anchorage late Sunday night, got the postmark, bought a cheese quesedilla, a cheesy-bean burrito and a strawberry mango drink at the Parks Highway Taco Bell all-night drivethrough and then drove home, I was drained and have been ever since.

Taco Bell. That is where the problems started. Not the one on the Parks Highway in Anchorage, but the one here, in Wasilla, Saturday, where I photographed this and the other two ravens seen here. 

This is how it happened: I had no cash on Saturday when I went through the Wasilla Taco Bell drivethrough. Margie was stretched out across the back seat of the Escape, so pulled out my wallet, slipped my debit card out of that, paid with the debit card, slipped the card back into the wallet and then put the wallet...

Where did I put the wallet? Did I put it on my lap? I don't remember. Perhaps because I was paying too much attention to the ravens. I always pay attention to ravens. They demand it.

Did I put it in the little pouch on the inside of the drivers door?

Just where did I put it? It was black. These ravens are squabbling over and eating something black. Did they take it? Did they eat it?

All I know for certain is that, after we finished dining, I drove up to the outside Taco Bell garbage can. I handed my sack of Taco Bell garbage back to Margie, she put her sack of Taco Bell garbage into it, handed it back to me and then I got out of the car, walked to the garbage can, threw it in, got back in the car and then drove straight at the ravens, thinking that they would fly before I got to them.

But they didn't. They called my bluff and I had to stop and then go around them. It is not because they were stupid and did not understand the danger a Ford Escape could pose to them.

They are smart. They just knew that I was bluffing, and that I would stop. And if by chance I didn't, they had it all calculated down to the micro-second just when they would actually need to hop and flap out of the way.

But they did not want to do that unless it was absolutely necessary, and they knew it wouldn't be. They wanted to call my bluff, to humiliate me, and they did.

Margie wanted to go to Carr's to buy some groceries after that. So I drove her to Carr's. I thought that she meant that she wanted me to go in and buy some groceries, but she meant she wanted us to go in and buy some groceries. It would be the very first time that she had gone into a store since she suffered her injury, January 20.

I drove her as close as I could to the door, got out of the car, opened up the back door, helped her out, made certain she got through the new fallen snow to the walk that leads inside the store, then got back into the car. By then, the lady and the boy above were in front of me, so I took their picture.

I then found a place far from the store to park the car. Being a rough, tough, Alaskan, I did not care at all about the falling snow. I hiked from the car to Carr's as if it was not even snowing at all. As if I was in Phoenix, Arizona.

That's how I did it. I then entered the store and these two boys - I assume the one with a beard is a boy, but who knows, he could be a girl - how could I tell? - offered me a Peanut Butter Cup. First, I took their picture and then I took the Peanut Butter Cup.

That is the kind of thing of thing that you do when you are a serious photographer, which I am. You take your picture before you take your Peanut Butter Cup. It does not matter how badly you want that Peanut Butter Cup, you take the picture first.

If you can't do that, then, hell, you might just as well throw your damn camera in the trash.

I wonder if I threw my wallet in the trash at Taco Bell? I wonder if I had accidently placed it in the Taco Bell sack when I was eating, the one that became my trash bag?

All I know for certain is that when I got to the check-out stand, with Margie hobbling behind, and the checker rang up the $200 plus bill, I reached into my pocket for my wallet, but it was not there.

I went back to the car and searched in and all around it. My wallet was not there. I went to Carr's customer service, to see if someone had turned my wallet in. They had not. I drove back to Taco Bell, to see if someone had turned in my wallet there.

No one had. I asked if the garbage can had been emptied. It had.

The Taco Bell ravens laughed at me.

You don't believe me? You don't believe that a raven can laugh? Then come to Alaska and you will learn otherwise.

So I drove Margie home and checked my online bank account. No activity. Checked my credit cards. No activity. Still, I had to cancel them all. Each and every one.

Worse yet, I had no cash. Worse still, Margie had no cash. Even worse, when I cancelled my cards, I also cancelled her's, because we share accounts.

We do not have a pre-nup, either. Don't need one.

Although she was a little irritated with me, right now.

After that, there was nothing to do but go home and work on the project that I was telling you about. I worked on it all day Saturday for the remainder of the day and then when the day ended, I continued to work on it.

I did not stop until 5:00 AM. I then went to bed, pulled the covers over me and then the cats piled on. I sleep better when cats are piled atop me. Unless they grow mischievous. They grew mischievous.

I got up a bit before 10:00 AM, fixed Margie some oatmeal, fixed me some oatmeal and then got back to work. I did not stop until I was done, and that happened about 8:45 PM. At that time on Sunday, the only open Post Office in the whole state of Alaska is the airport Post Office in Anchorage, so I climbed into the car and drove - without my driver's license, because that was in the lost wallet.

Margie could not drive me, because her leg is in a brace and still cannot be bent. Her arm is in a cast and she could not grip the steering wheel.

So I drove, without my license. I set the cruise control to four miles above the speed limit to make certain that I would not accidently speed and get pulled over without a license.

I drove very cautious and carefully, so as not to attract any undo attention.

I drove past car after car that had gone off the road. Some had flipped over, some were on their side.

The road was dry. It was not icy. All those cars must have slid off the road the day before, when it was snowing. A whole lot of cars must have slide off the road Saturday, for so many to still not be retrieved Sunday night.

Probably, in the past, some of these drivers have laughed at news reports of snow-caused traffic mishaps in Lower 48 cities, especially in cities unaccustomed to snow that suddenly get snow.

Today, we seen such reports come out of Tennessee, and other southern states, like Maine.

I bet these drivers didn't laugh today.

Others did, though. Their time is coming.

As for today, it dawned clear, cold, and beautiful. -20 at our house. For you celsius people, that would be -29 on your scale. But I drove over the hill that is behind me in this picture and on Wasilla Main Street, it was +3. We live in a cold sink, that's why.

The good thing is, I now have so many bars on my cellphone right in my house that I haven't even bothered to count them, as that would require me to put on my reading glasses. But there are a lot of bars. No more dropped calls - thanks to this ugly monstrosity that just got turned on.

Now here is an amazing thing: when we flew out of Salt Lake City on the way home from Washington, DC, there was a guy at the gate next to ours peddling Delta Airlines American Express credit cards. He said if I got one and made just one purchase, why, hell, right there I would get enough free Delta Airlines miles just for doing so that I could fly free on a Delta Airlines roundtrip ticket  anywhere they go.

He said Margie could sign up and we could get two free round-trip tickets. I did not want another credit card, but I did like the idea of those free tickets. So I signed us both up. Margie was too broken up to sign herself up.

Those cards arrived the other day, but I just ignored them. This meant that I did not put them in my wallet. This meant that they did not get lost.

That is how I paid to mail my package from the Anchorage airport Post Office - with that Delta Airlines American Express card.

That is how I bought gas to drive back home from Anchorage - with that card.

And now I can fly anywhere in the US that Delta goes...

So today, driving illegally once again, I drove to the Department of Motor Vehicles in Palmer, figuring that I could be legal when I drove back.

When I got to the DMV, a sign asked me to please fill out all the relevant forms before my number was called. So I took my number from the number machine, then found the basket for the form that I needed.

It was empty.

Next, I sat in a chair and waited for my number to be called. My number was 241. As you can see, the couple in the picture here had number 237, and I had already been waiting awhile when I took it.

See the two portraits hanging on the wall? The one on the left is of our Governor, Sarah Palin. Ever hear of her?

I doubt it. It seems unlikely.

Anyway, 241 was finally called. I journied to the counter. The guy who helped me was most friendly. He gave me the form that had not been in the basket and patiently waited while I filled it out. He then had me take the eye test, which I passed just fine.

I showed him my passport and he agreed that I am who I said I am.

"That'll be $15.00," he said.

So I whipped out my American Express card.

"I'm sorry," he said, "the DMV does not take American Express."

Come on, Sarah - for hell's sake! 

So I drove illegally from the DMV to the Palmer McDonald's to buy a cup of coffee and some cinnamon nuggets. I chose McDonald's because I figured they would probably take American Express.

I made my order and pulled to the first window. A girl was there to take my money. I had put my American Express Card inside my passport. I absent-mindedly handed her the passport.

She didn't know what to do.

But when she figured it out, McDonald's accepted the card. I pulled up to the next window and this kid handed me my coffee and my cinnamon nuggets.

I drove out of the lot toward the highway and as I did, these two kids jaywalked right across the highway. They were lucky it was me driving. Most drivers would not have realized what was happening until it was too late and would have run right over them, but not me.

The coffee was scalding hot. Way too hot to drink. It would have to cool down. So I decided to take the long drive home, via fishhook road, which would extend the trip from about 15 miles to at least 20. I figured that would give the coffee time to cool down enough for me to drink while I was still driving home.

Plus, it is a more pleasant drive. 

I hadn't driven far before I grew impatient and decided that I did not want to wait for that coffee to cool down. If the coffee cooled, so would the cinnamon nuggets. I looked at the car's temperature indicator. The exterior air temperature was 10 degrees. That's the thing about this time of year, after the sun comes back. In December and January, if the morning temperature is -20, it might rise to -18 or so, but that's about it.

I looked at the speedometer. It read 55 miles per hour. I did some quick mental calculations and came up with a wind chill factor of -19. I figured that would cool down the coffee real quick, so I rolled down the window and held the cup out into the wind for a couple of miles. The inside of my hand was burning, the outside freezing, but it did the trick.

The coffee was drinkable in short order. The cinnamon nuggets were still warm.

I turned off Fishhook onto Polar Bear. I hadn't gone far when I saw this snow machine, just sitting in the road. 

And a bit later, on Church, I saw this guy. His snowmachine was working just fine.

Which brings me to another dilemma that I face. I might need to do some snowmachining real soon, to do my work which I have fallen so far behind on since I got hurt. Or I might have to hang onto the back of a sled. I have not done either since I shattered my shoulder and got it replaced.

I am much improved now, but I don't think my shoulder is capable of handling a snowmachine on rough terrain - and sea ice is always rough terrain. And neither is my wrist, which got hurt, too, but was completely ignored due to the severity of my shoulder injury. Now, it often bothers me worse than my shoulder. Each night, I lose sleep by the hour to the pain in my wrist, and in my shoulder.

What do I do?

In part, my Muse seems to have solved the problem. I promised her that when she got married, I would come to India to photograph her wedding. I am not a wedding photographer, I do not photograph weddings. But sometimes I make an exception.

For her, I will make such an exception.

Tonight, she informed me that she has set the date for May 3, and said that I must come one week early. That's probably when I would be doing the most heavy snowmachining of all. Now, on the hope that all goes well, I will be India, where it is pretty hard to drive a snowmachine.

You could do it, but it would be mighty hard on the snowmachine.

Oh, good grief! Did I write, "hard on?"

I never intended this to be that kind of blog. I am shocked.

And on a snowmachine! That would be awful. Something might break right off.

I think it is time to get out of this blog and go to bed. I think I am sleep-deprived.

But still, I would like to get on a snowmachine between now and India.

What do I do?

Now, being broke and all, how do I get to India?

My Muse has set her wedding date. I will find a way.

I have never let being broke stop me from traveling.

Now I will click "published," then "saved," and I will go to bed. 

Despite the time listed at the top of this page, it is 4:35 AM. 

A narrow view of the Inauguration of President Barack Obama - Part 3 of 3: The new president is sworn in; how the people near me reacted

"That we are in the midst of crisis is now well understood.  Our nation is at war against a far-reaching network of violence and hatred.  Our economy is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age."  - Barack Obama, 44th President of the United States

To the sounds of "trumpet and fanfare," President Elect Barack Obama arrived at the Capitol building as his image appeared on the nearby Jumbotron. He looked confident and proud. The applause was loud, the shouts joyous, the people waved American flags with enthusiasm.

"Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real.  They are serious and they are many.  They will not be met easily or in a short span of time.  But know this America:  They will be met."

And there was pride - a kind of pride that many in the crowd had never felt before, had not believed they would ever feel, but now they did feel it.

Perhaps the "majority" of us cannot fully comprehend the degree of the pride that radiated from the faces of so many of the African Americans who were present, but we can recognize it, celebrate it, rejoice in it.

I, as a white American, also felt a kind of pride that I had never before experienced, pride in the fact that the country that I now lived in had become a better nation then the one that I had grown up in. The notion that such an event could ever happen could not have even been believed in the United States of my childhood.

No, I am wrong to make the above statement. At least one man, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., believed it.

Despite the almost universal acclaim given him today, I recall the attitudes toward Dr. King that prevailed in the community that surrounded me back then and that attitude was mean and derisive - and no, I did not live in the south. I lived in California.

I recall, too, how, in my community, Dr. King was mocked and ridiculed, deemed to be a dangerous man, a Communist, out to destroy America, after he spoke these words:

"When we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!'"

Much later, I listened to the those words and was suddenly struck by meaning that had eluded me in my youth. When Dr. King spoke of how "we" would be "free at last," he had included me, a white man who had already believed himself to be free, but who was actually bound and restrained by the limitations that a racist society imposes upon itself.

Now, on the National Mall, I recalled other images from my youth and early adulthood, images of Black Americans turning their back on the flag to raise their clenched fists in the opposite direction.

Here, I saw them clutch the American flag with pride, I saw them wave the American flag as they cheered and smiled big, I saw tears come to their eyes as they embraced that flag. There seemed to be a feeling that, finally, that flag had embraced them.

"Our journey has never been one of short-cuts or settling for less.  It has not been the path for the faint-hearted, for those that prefer leisure over work, or seek only the pleasures of riches and fame.  Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things -- some celebrated, but more often men and women obscure in their labor -- who have carried us up the long rugged path towards prosperity and freedom."

President-Elect Obama had created a controversy among many of his most dedicated followers and volunteers when he chose the Reverend Rick Warren to deliver the Inaugural address. When Warren, known for his anti-gay comments, stepped to the podium, the reception seemed polite but cool.

Yet, when he began to pray, people around me began to cry. They could not stop their tears, particularly when Warren spoke these words:

"Now today we rejoice not only in America's peaceful transfer of power for the 44th time. We celebrate a hinge-point of history with the inauguration of our first African-American president of the United States.

"We are so grateful to live in this land, a land of unequaled possibility, where the son of an African immigrant can rise to the highest level of our leadership.

"And we know today that Dr. King and a great cloud of witnesses are shouting in Heaven... Help us, oh God, to remember that we are Americans, united not by race or religion or blood, but to our commitment to freedom and justice for all."

""For us, they packed up their few worldly possessions and traveled across oceans in search of a new life.  For us, they toiled in sweatshops, and settled the West, endured the lash of the whip, and plowed the hard earth.  For us, they fought and died in places like Concord and Gettysburg, Normandy and Khe Sahn." 

When Itzhak Perlman and Yoyo Ma began to play the violin and chello, I did wonder not only how they were able to manipulate their fingers in the cold, but also how they kept their stringed instruments in tune.

It seemed impossible, yet the thought that they were bow syncing to a recording of themselves did not occur to me.

Some were upset about the "fakery" when the news came out that what we actually heard was a recording the team of Perlman, Ma, pianist Gabriela Montero and clarinetist Anthony McGill had made the day before. The news did not bother me. These virtuosos had faced a choice - do what they did or risk a clumsy, out-of-tune performance. How much criticism would that have brought down upon them?

"We remain the most prosperous, powerful nation on Earth.  Our workers are no less productive than when this crisis began.  Our minds are no less inventive, our goods and services no less needed than they were last week, or last month, or last year.  Our capacity remains undiminished.  But our time of standing pat, of protecting narrow interests and putting off unpleasant decisions -- that time has surely passed.  Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking America."

As an enthusiastic crowd cheers, waves the American flag and throws confetti, Barack and Michelle Obama walk together toward the swearing-in. Blogger's note, 2/4/09: This replaces a similar photo taken a short time later that went up with the original post Please note that a "click" on any photo will bring up a larger copy.

"For everywhere we look, there is work to be done.  The state of our economy calls for action, bold and swift.  And we will act, not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foundation for growth.  We will build the roads and bridges, the electric grids and digital lines that feed our commerce and bind us together." 

I will let her expression describe her feelings as she watches Barack Obama prepare to be sworn in as President of the United States.

Joy. 

All around me, I could detect only happiness, joy and a true feeling of hope, unity, sisterhood and brotherhood between groups of people so divergent in bloodline, origin, culture and nurture.

"We'll restore science to its rightful place, and wield technology's wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost.  We will harness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our factories.  And we will transform our schools and colleges and universities to meet the demands of a new age.  All this we can do.  All this we will do." 

After placing his hand upon the Bible of Abraham Lincoln, Barack Obama is sworn in as the 44th President of the United States. Please note the men perched on the building behind, including the ones with the scopes.

And note the trails from the jets that continually circled above.

More pride.

 "As for our common defense, we reject as false the choice between our safety and our ideals.  Our Founding Fathers, faced with perils that we can scarcely imagine, drafted a charter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man -- a charter expanded by the blood of generations.  Those ideals still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience sake." 

President Obama speaks. "These are the indicators of crisis, subject to data and statistics.  Less measurable, but no less profound, is a sapping of confidence across our land; a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, that the next generation must lower its sights."

In whatever direction I looked, I saw happy faces...

...enraptured faces...

...and the transformed smiles of those who had suddenly forgotten how cold they had felt through the long, short, hours that they had endured after arising at 3:00 AM to come down and stand immobile in the frigid air.

"Recall that earlier generations faced down fascism and communism not just with missiles and tanks, but with the sturdy alliances and enduring convictions.  They understood that our power alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please.  Instead they knew that our power grows through its prudent use; our security emanates from the justness of our cause, the force of our example, the tempering qualities of humility and restraint." 

And then there was my own daughter, Lisa, who, as an Obama volunteer, had worked so hard to get this man elected. She had done so even though she knew that no matter what she and the other Alaska volunteers did, there was no chance that Barack Obama would receive our state's three electoral votes.

Still, she could make a statement that there is much diversity in the minds of Alaskans, that we do not all think the same nor fall inline with one way of thinking, that even on Main Street, Wasilla, Alaska, there is room for divergent thought and viewpoint among genuine, real, patriotic Americans.

Now, as she listened to the man whom she had worked so hard to elect speak, she got her payoff. And when she heard him say these words, "For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness.  We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus, and non-believers.  We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this Earth," she felt the reward of her hard work. It was the first time that she had heard a President make a statement about who just who the American people really are that did not exclude, but rather did include her.

President Barack Obama speaks from a position directly in front of us, yet we can identify him only on the Jumbotron.

"We will not apologize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense.  And for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing terror and slaughtering innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is stronger and cannot be broken -- you cannot outlast us, and we will defeat you." 

The speech concludes. The new President takes his seat. Lisa joins in the applause. She is the whole reason that we came. She was so thrilled when Barack Obama won the election that she immediately bought herself a round-trip ticket to New York City (Washington, DC, was too expensive) so that she could attend the inaugural. She did not have funds for a hotel, so she thought she would just camp out.

Margie and I had planned to take a vacation at this time, to go to Utah and Arizona, so that we could see family, and Margie could warm herself in the southwest sun and enjoy the winter daylight that Alaska lacks. 

Instead, we decided to change our itinerary a bit, and so accompanied Lisa to the Inauguration.

"Let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations." 

The ceremony ended, but the warm, euphoric feelings continued. Soon, of course, those feelings will be tempered by the enormity of the task that our new president faces. He will come under fire, and much of it will be directed towards him from those most responsible for creating the perilous situation that our country now faces. In fact, that fire has already begun.

I made a phone call from the Lincoln Memorial to a hard-right conservative who is most beloved to me. He brought up the fact that even as Obama was in the process of taking over the Presidency, jobs were being lost daily, by the tens of thousands. "They're calling it the Obama effect," he told me. He was quite serious, and, despite the last eight years, believed his own words.

I saw the true Obama effect, and I hope that you can see it in the pictures above, in the faces of those who attended the Inaugural.

Later, he told me that Obama had signed an executive order that meant the United States was now going to be paying for abortions. He said this in such a way as to imply that the government would be paying for abortions across the board, throughout the Country. In fact, what Obama had signed was an order that lifted the Bush ban on US aid to international family planning organizations with services that include advice or help to women who seek abortions - a very different matter.

So these are the kinds of distortions and obstacles that will be thrown at our new President as he works to lead us out of the mess that we are in.

True, as the situation grows worse, I suspect that even many who now cheer him will grow impatient and will issue their own harsh criticisms of the man they helped elect. Perhaps I will, myself.

Obviously, none of us can yet know how well our new President will handle the many crisis that he inherited and he will undoubtedly make some bad mistakes. For this, he will be loudly condemned.

Yet, it is my personal belief that, right now, the United States of America is in need of a leader the likes of which we have not seen at least since World War II. A great leader. As Colin Powell said, a transformational leader. One who can not only inspire us but convince us to make the kinds of sacrifice that we modern day Americans do not like to make.

Considering the challenges, without such a leader, it seems unlikely that United States will continue as the great power that it has been since World War II. Looking at all of our national leaders, in all parties, I do not see the potential of such a leader except in one individual: our new President, Barack Obama. I do believe he has that potential. Whether the potential will be fulfilled, I do not know. 

I wonder what I can do to help him succeed?

I suppose I could begin by finding a way to rapidly pay off the new credit card debt that I added to the old, just to travel to Washington, DC and back. This would mean I would have to put off some immediate gratification in order to help bring about a more prosperous future. I like that immediate gratification. I would like to think that I can now indulge in it, and let the future take care of itself.

Hmmmm.....

A click here will take you to the full text and video of President Obama's speech.