Obama’s second presidential inauguration took place yesterday and I hear that, overall, it went off without a hitch. The man was anointed president once again, the crowds roared most approvingly, and Martin Luther King Jr. turned over in his grave to find a surprisingly comfortable position on his stomach. All was right and well with the political world – except for Congress, which is still a big white building full of shitfuckers, and I guess drone warfare, which is a vast blue sky full of semi-precise missiles. What can you do. It was still an okay day.
Inaugurations, though, they’re an interesting thing. You see, according to the Twentieth Amendment, which I assure you, I have most certainly not taken the time to read in full, the old president must unceremoniously be swept out of the White House by high noon on the 20th of January. I’m sure a member of the housekeeping staff slips a bill under the door of the Lincoln bedroom first thing in the morning. After the old president is removed from the premises, the term of the new president begins. So, post-noon, Obama was re-president – except for the fact that he wouldn’t be able to take that pesky oath until yesterday afternoon, the 21st of January. For one full day, Obama was in non-presidential limbo. More notably, the United States of America was without a president.
Did you notice? Could you tell? I couldn’t. I may be making this shit up, I don’t know, I was just skimming Wikipedia. But it seems like kind of an interesting thing. What if something had come up, like a humanitarian crisis that needed the attention of a tactical nuke? Who’s gonna push the big red button? Biden? He’s technically not in office either, and besides, he was probably too busy arranging his immaculate smile for yesterday’s ceremonies. Would it be Boehner, Speaker of the House? I heard he once strangled a kitten as part of an extensive filibuster. Probably not presidential material right there.
Maybe I’m looking at this all wrong. Maybe that extra day isn’t a day of unpresidency, maybe it’s a freebie day for presidential partying. Yeah, from noon Sunday until noon Monday, Obama probably got blitzed, tore around the White House in a toga, and demanded that the Secret Service corp defecate on Romney’s lawns. 24 hours without the preoccupation of a world that needs saving, I suppose that would be the best inaugural present. “Here you go, Mister President,” Father Time seems to be saying. “I got you a day off.”