Beginnings and Endings

Today was Madison Nguyen's swearing-in ceremony. I had forgotten, or thought it was later, or something, so when my co-worker looked at the clock and said it was time to go, I looked at my grey casual pants and white t-shirt and clogs, and realized I was so not dressed for this. I even thought of not going. But how could I not go? It was important. And besides, no one would be looking at me, and it would be my first trip to the new City Hall (which, by the way, is lovely, with its high ceilings and flowing white curves).

We left late, but in the whole scheme of things, ended up getting there early. There were plenty of seats in the amphitheater-style council chambers, and it was easy to get to people as we made our rounds. I grabbed a council agenda, which, being a process nerd, kept me occupied far more than it should have as I tried to puzzle out the schedule and simultaneously say hi and meet people. And I had to meet people. It was a local-political-people-watcher's paradise. And I had friends there as well. We craned our necks to look for his wife, and he pointed out when I missed someone waving at me. Madison worked the crowd, moving from well-wisher to well-wisher, followed by a stream of print and TV media cameras but with a staff member running interference in front of her.

We sat, but kept chatting with our neighbors until the Mayor called the meeting to order, and then kept whispering with the people around us anyway. It's just one of those things. Madison stopped making her rounds, and there was still a smattering of chanting and well-wishes for her, which she accepted graciously with a bow. And then they called up a judge and the City Clerk, and she was sworn in, which was followed by a burst of applause and a standing ovation. She looked so happy, and she made a good, short, strong speech of thanks.

There was paperwork, of course, so she and the judge and the city clerk and the mayor all signed and initialed and did whatever they needed to do. And then she walked up to the dais and was hugged by her new fellow council members. She was settled into the large black leather chair next to Linda Lazotte, where she took her first sip of water from the water bottle next to the microphone as the press clustered around to snap her picture. Mayor Gonzales finally had to shoo them away, asking that "the members of the press paparazzi please take their seats," and reminded them that she would be right there for a long time, and that they were welcome to come back anytime. She looked good in the chair. It fit.

I imagine she was a bundle of nerves. It didn't show, but isn't that how someone would feel on this day, doing what she was doing? Pride and excitement mixed with concern, and so many other emotions. Was she able to concentrate on the meeting? It's funny; I joke to people that I go to great lengths to get out of going to council meetings. But it's different when you have a specific purpose. When you're just observing, it's hard to stifle the yawns, but when you know the context and are watching for signposts, the time flies by.

The council then moved onto its normal business, which would stretch into the afternoon and pick up again after a dinner break. We left at the conclusion of the ceremonial items, and joined the group of networkers up at the top of the chamber. While my co-worker went off "being popular" as I termed it, I quizzed another staffer whose co-worker was also off being popular, and she explained the council's consent calendar, which worked a little differently from the Senate's consent calendar.

Eventually, we wandered out into the late afternoon rain. As we walked, fat, widely-spaced raindrops splattered around us amid the drizzle, and thunder roared out of the east. "An auspicious day for a swearing-in ceremony," I said. Something had happened. Even the clouds saw it.