It was only after I’d booked our little getaway to Victoria, British Columbia that I realized that we’d miss out on watching the most amazing inauguration in American history. But I needed a break, and my husband and I needed to plan out our 2009.
We watched the actual ceremony in our hotel room right before we checked out. At first I was bawling, thrilled to be witnessing history AND to be absolved, in my own mind, for my Republican ways for oh-so-long. But then I laughed my ass off listening to John Roberts botch the oath and Barack practically staring him down until Roberts tried to correct himself. That was too funny.
Afterward, we checked out and wandered around town, blowing money on a few souvenirs for the family in the hours we had left before boarding the boat for the three hour ride back to Seattle. It got to be lunchtime, and Old Abe indulged my fondness for all things Irish by agreeing to plant ourselves in the local Irish pub for a while.
Fortunately, the TV was tuned to CNN (sigh....no MSNBC) and we got to watch the parade. YIPPEE!! As had consistently been the case with every Canadian we’d talked to, the bartender was a well-informed young man who said that a) American politics is much more interesting than Canadian politics and he therefore follows our news closely and b) he’s really glad Barack Obama won. We chatted for quite a while about this and that, consuming quantities of Guinness and Jameson’s and generally having a nice afternoon.
But behind us, the waters began to bubble. Somehow, while in the throes of ecstasy, I’d overheard a word.
"Wasilla".
"Excuse me," I said, turning around on my barstool to face the counter behind me. "Did I hear you mention Wasilla?"
"Yeah," the man sitting beside a rather uptight woman answered. "We’re from Wasilla."
"Oh, wow," was all I could bring myself to say.
"We’re not big Sarah Palin fans," Old Abe chimed in. I nearly choked...he NEVER says stuff like that.
"That’s ok," the man replied. "We’re glad she didn’t win. We’re not ready to share here with the rest of the country. Yet."
"Yet?" I thought. "How about NEVER?"
Old Abe and I returned to our conversation for a few moments, still enthralled and overjoyed to be able to watch the President and First Lady walk down the street waving and smiling. But our chatter was muted a bit, as I honestly didn’t want to offend anyone. I noticed a few minutes later, though, that our trusty Canadian bartender was looking at me curiously. I slid off my stool and trotted around to the back of the bar, where he joined me moments later.
"We got quiet," I said. "We didn’t want to piss off that couple sitting behind us. They’re from Wasilla."
"No FUCKING way!" he gasped, then covered his mouth and giggled. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah," I said, smiling. "So I’ll be toning down my ear-to-ear grin for a while."
Right after I returned to my seat, Scot and I noticed President Obama (it feels SO good to type that!) was making "shaka" signs at the marching band passing by. Intrigued, I watched until I saw why: the Punahou marching band was in the parade, and he was really happy to see them. I told Old Abe that Punahou was the prep school President Obama (I just can’t type that enough) attended in Hawaii (I read "Dreams", he didn’t). At some point, one of us turned around and told the Wasilla folks the same thing: Punahou was President Obama’s (!!!) prep school in Hawaii.
A few moment later, Wasilla Guy asked if we were from Hawaii. Strange question, but I said no, we were from Seattle. He commented about my Green Bay Packers jacket, since of course in addition to being a Palin supporter he’s also a Minnesota Vikings fan. He and Old Abe talked football for a few minutes, and then, thankfully, the conversation lagged and they eventually left.
We cracked up. How many Kossacks spent their Inauguration Day in Canada hanging around people from Wasilla, Alaska?
Yeah, we didn’t think so, either. Glad it didn’t ruin the day!