I orginally planned this entry to draw your attention to the magnificent poem, New Day, Kwame Dawes wrote in honor of the inaugration of Barack Obama. I still want to draw your attention to it– for it is brilliant, and I mean brilliant as in genius but also brilliant as in light-filled– and I still want to thank Mina J for sending me the link. I have loved, loved, loved all the love and beauty and celebration this week as we celebrate this historic milestone. (I was there in my evening gown popping a cork with the best of them.)
But… and there is always a But… We are going to have to chill with some of the boogie-oogie-oogie and start thinking about the change we want in the world. Yesterday, I was in a store and an older black man said to me, “Obama has done his job just by getting elected. That’s all I need. To see him in the white house with his wife, and those pretty babies. That’s all I need.” All around him, people nodded in a agreement.
Well, that’s not all I need and it’s not all America needs.
I just read the most upsetting post on the blog of Alisa Valdes Rodriguez, the author of the “chica-lit” breakout book, best-selling The Dirty Girls Social Club. Alisa is very ill. She needs heart surgery that will cost about $200,000. And despite her success as an author, she is self-employed and without health insurance. She is considering moving to Cuba in order to get treatment.
As writers, we all dream of losing the day job and doing our writing full time. But can we ever do it as long as health insurance remains tied to employment? Even if you cuold make enough from your writing to pay your bills, you probably wouldn’t make enough to take care of your health.
46 million Americans are without health insurance. This must be our top priority when we think about Change. I am not sure what we can do as individuals, but I am looking into it. When I find something out, I will post here. Meanwhile, go over to Alisa’s blog and leave her some love in the comments.
Get well, Alisa. You are in our thoughts and our prayers.

I won’t say that it was fun. I got up around 5:30 am, dressed in layers and braved the cold. All my friends managed to score VIP tickets to the inauguration, so I braved the mall solo– just one lone person among the millions. There were no signs and every cop sent me in a different direction. I know I walked three miles and in between I stood in lines that went nowhere. On the plus side, strangers were very kind, letting me join their groups and sharing hand-warmers and candy bars. One woman, seeing my numb-foot hobble, gave me a pair of nice wool socks. By 12:00, I had been out in the cold for five hours. Cell phones weren’t working and I was so cold and dejected that I was in tears– which promptly FROZE on my eyelashes.
Then, just as Barak Obama was taking his oath, I looked over and saw this sweet little boy asleep on his father’s shoulders, completely content, confident and secure in the world.

Congratulations Natasha

Originally uploaded by kleopatrjones

Last night was the Dreams From My Father Inaugural Ball. Having never attended such an event, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The event started at eight and having heard so many warnings about traffic, we headed out at 7pm. By 7:30 we were dropped off in front of The Four Seasons, Georgetown. Some members of my party– whom I won’t name– were too cute to walk in so early, so we went to have a glass of wine and wait until the hour was sufficiently fabulous.

By 8:30, the place was packed, reminding me of the first New Year’s Eve party I ever went to. People were all over the place in various stages of finery. (I must say, different folks interpret “black tie” differently. *cough* *cough*.)

There was a live band in the main hall, playing go-go (this is still DC!) and also crowd pleasers like “Brick House” and “Before I Let Go.” While I was on the floor getting my dance on, I laughed at the huge ultra-dignified picture of Mr. President Elect displayed behind the stage. I wondered if he had any idea the level of kicking-it being done in his name. Then, the band broke out with “Solid! Solid and Barack!” And do I even have to say this? Electric Slide.

This was a gathering of the segment of the black bourgeoisie that likes to kick it. I ran into a lot of girlfriends from Spelman College and the brothers from Morehouse were in splendid attendance, as well. Inter-generational love was in full effect as several parties made it a family affair.

And, can I say that y’all out there in internet land are so funny? Yes, I did find some cute shoes. I was trying to go the practical route, but I just didn’t feel like ME in ballerina flats.

So that was the first night. We are going to see what we can get into tonight and there is something else on tap for Tuesday. I can’t say what because our ticket-acquiring process is a little bit shady unorthodox.

More later, photos now!