It started well. Incredibly well. A senator from Utah mentioned to me afterward that the President’s introductory paragraph “could have been written by good ‘ole Dr. Arnn.” However, just like the weather, it all went downhill from there. The remainder of the speech could be compared to an ugly casserole, full of watered-down Dewey, Croly, and Roosevelt, with a dash of militant feminism and a few pathetic attempts to remind its audience of the principled stand of Martin Luther King Jr. While this has become the chef’s special, it seemed particularly bland given the occasion. In my mind, a presidential inauguration should be full of excitement; at the very least, it should pay tribute to the American tradition of peacefully transferring power. Yet more cheers were heard for the lip-syncing Beyoncé than for our second-term President and his hollow words. I had hoped to leave simply with a bad taste in my mouth; instead, I left with a stomachache. I can only wish for medicine to appear soon.
