Musings on the Inauguration

The 45th president of the United States of America
The 45th president of the United States of America

January 20th dawned grey and overcast in Washington, DC, with temperatures in the upper 40s. As the morning progressed, you could look in one direction and see ominous storm clouds, and then in another, and see blue sky trying to get through. It seemed like an apt metaphor for America at this moment in history; filled with promise and uncertainty.

For days I was interested to watch the President-elect move through the formalities and traditions of Inauguration Day. I was searching for signs – any signs – that Trump has processed and internalized the enormous responsibilities that would be his alone.

From the earliest days of the campaign, the PEOTUS had shown disregard, if not outright contempt, for the consequences of his words and actions. It is one thing for a private citizen, or candidate to spout off.  It is quite another when you are actually in charge, in an office where everything is minutely analyzed, and an “off-the-cuff” remark can have international repercussions. The period between Election Day and Inauguration Day did not provide comfort in this regard, despite Trump assembling a solidly conservative cabinet, and sketching a mostly conservative policy agenda.

I watched as PEOTUS and Mrs. Trump emerged from St. John’s Episcopal Church, across the street from the White House. My first thought was that he didn’t look like a president. There is a moment for all voters when we look at a candidate and wonder if we can see them in the Oval Office. Reagan, Bush41, Clinton, Bush 43 and Obama all seemed to wear the transition to power well. But not Trump. His suit coat was unbuttoned, exposing a tie hung too low. He held Melania’s hand. Instead of appearing ebullient at his big day, PEOTUS appeared stiff and taciturn. He appeared more like a NYer leaving Mass at St. Patrick’s than the next president of the United States.

Onto the White House to meet the President and First Lady.

The look on Michelle Obama’s face, caught on camera before the Trumps pulled in, said all you really needed to know about her thoughts on the future POTUS. Watching the Trump’s arrive at the White House, the greetings between the current and future president seemed forced – a familiarity and graciousness that is essential for the cameras, but belied the very real distance between the two men and their families.

The moment was made unexpectedly humorous by Melania Trump, who presented the First Lady with what appeared to be a Tiffany’s box, leaving Mrs. Obama flummoxed as to what to do with it. Old school Americans will immediately recognize the gesture as a rule of good manners, where you never visit a friend’s home without a gift.

Then it was on to the Capitol.

Watching President Obama and the President-elect leave the White House was a visual study in contrasts. Both men exit the White House together. Although Trump is two inches taller than Obama, he hunches, making both men appear to be the same height. Trump’s gait is more of a shuffle, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his arms swaying freely. He moves slowly, much too slowly for the President, who gently moves PEOTUS along, directing him where to enter “the Beast;” the presidential limousine.

Entering the Inaugural, President Obama is announced first. He is relaxed and smiling. He shakes the hands of well wishers as his walks the steps to the platform. You could almost believe that this was his 3rd inaugural.

Among those on the stage are all living former presidents, with the exception of Bush 41, who is hospitalized in Houston.  There’s Jimmy Carter, looking incredibly spry for a man of 92. George W. Bush has lost some hair and what’s left is grayer, but he still has the swagger and glimmer in his eye. He tries to catch Obama’s attention, and they trade a comment or two.

And then there are Bill and Hillary Clinton. I have spent 25 years standing against the Clintons. The scheming, the scandals, the entitlement. And it is a relief to me that it is not she who is about to walk to the president-elect’s chair.

But at this moment, I feel contrite. They both look stoic, but the sadness and regret is etched on their faces. It would have been easy to beg off attending. To join the 60 Democrats who refused to come. But they came, understanding the symbolic importance of being present for this event; an act of duty and patriotism that is deeply commendable.

And then it is time for the most important entrance. His name announced, the doors open to show Trump walking down the end of the hall. Before he exits out the door, he does a short, deep exhale, the kind of reflexive act that people make before a big event.

There is a thumbs up and a first pump, but the face remains neutral and tight. He focuses on the stairs and does not look to shake hands with well wishers as he makes his way down. At the bottom, he kisses his wife, and again greets the Obamas. Lip reading is easy. Trump calls the President “Barack” and says, “thank you, thank you, appreciate it.” He moves over to his seat and waves, providing only a tight and forced smile. Waiting for the swearing-in, Trump fidgeted, straightened his coat, shifted in his seat, seemingly impatient to get things started.

And that is when it occurs to me.

The man who made a fortune in New York real estate, the man who climbed to the top of social circles in NY, who inhabited the gossip columns of NY paper for decades with rumor of mega deals, marriages, bankruptcies and affairs, the man who rocketed to the top of pop culture consciousness with first “The Apprentice” and then the “Celebrity Apprentice,” was awed by and left uncomfortable with the pageantry of the Inaugural.

People who have spent years in political life before reaching the White House are normally familiar with the rhythms of pomp and circumstance in public service, particularly the technical of where to stand, how to stand. The reflexive smile and wave.

 But not Trump.

His conduct made me think of what it might be like if any of the thousands who supported him during the campaign were suddenly thrust into the spotlight that he now inhabits. This inexperience and real-time reaction humanized Trump in a way I have not seen him before; at least for me. A self-proclaimed billionaire fighting on behalf of the common man, suddenly seems more plausible.

Then finally  the oath.

Donald J. Trump is now the 45th president of the United States of America.

I thought back to 2008. While I was deeply opposed to Obama’s politics and campaigned/voted for McCain, I had watched the inauguration with a sense of amazement. An African-American president?

“Only in America” I had thought.

And now, eight years later, a candidate who was equally improbable, for a completely different set of reasons, had won the highest office in the land.

“Only in America.”

I thought the speech was horrible, both in structure and content. Maybe the worst verbal address in my adult lifetime.

As a former speechwriter, it was clear to me that there had been many contributors, but no single editor. There was no cadence to it. It was choppy and repetitive, seeking a unifying narrative, but never actually achieving it.

It seemed longer than 16 minutes.

.As far as substance, it was an opportunity missed.

More than anything, it sounded like a campaign speech, indeed the close of the speech came almost verbatim from Trump’s RNC speech. Hyperbole and dramatic rhetoric are the stuff of great addresses, but Trump used unusually dark and ominous language for an inaugural. His proposed new political order paid little more than minimal lip service to the 74 million voting Americans who did not cast a ballot for him. If you were wondering where you fit in Trump’s America, your still wondering.

Surprisingly, the speech holds up much better on paper. It stands out as a deeply nationalist and populist document. It does have memorable lines (“We’ve defended other nations’ borders while refusing to defend our own.”) and, with President Obama sitting only feet away, Trump called out “Radical Islamic Terrorism,” a term the 44th POTUS refused to use. It manages to be both reassuring and unnerving in the same address.

The transfer of power complete, President Trump moved on to the traditional luncheon on Capitol Hill, where he made unexpected and very gracious comments about his opponent, Hillary Clinton and her husband. After the bitterness of the campaign, I had thought the President would mention Mrs. Clinton in his address. Doing so at the luncheon, where applause was guaranteed, was both compassionate and thoughtful.

 Then on to the parade. Trump’s first, true toothy grin came as he passed his hotel on 1100 Pennsylvania Avenue. The crowds were not stellar and the parade was unusually short, but it did not appear to dampen the enthusiasm of the new President and his supporters.

The new Commander-in-Chief throws a very smart salute.

At the Inaugural balls, Trump seemed to come into his own. As these were essentially a  DC version of an exclusive cocktail party in NYC, perhaps it was more comfortable territory for the new president. He danced his first dance to Sinatra’s classic “My Way.” There was no song more exquisitely perfect to the man and his moment.

What kind of president will Trump be?

I looked for clues in the symbolism and pomp of the day and found only contradictions.

A billionaire awed by  ceremony and trappings of his new office. A speech that excoriated the very members of Congress upon whom his agenda depends. The least ideological address by a Republican president in memory, which laid out problems starkly, but which was light on practical solutions. A brief moment of benevolence for an opponent, after the harshest campaign in modern memory.

 It doesn’t add up.

Which is to say that President Trump is as unknowable today as he was 18 months ago, on the escalator ride to destiny that landed him in the Oval Office.

We will find out soon enough.