I was going to write some terrible, self-pitying garbage this afternoon. I was really close after the nice lady with the “Jesus is the answer!” bumper sticker cut me off in traffic. Dude! Smiting is so old testiment!

Instead I’m going to talk about this exited feeling I can’t seem to shake..

One of my coworkers was back from her trip today and had some awesome pictures to share. I don’t mean the surfer-dude or big-hair-80s kind of awesome.

I mean to go dictionary on your ass. I mean to say the pictures inspired awe.

Take away the context and they were just pictures of a man at a podium. But we talked about her trip and what they represented – both historically and to the person who took them. We talked about the incredible experience she had. She was there yesterday. She was with thousands of other people filled with their own desire to celebrate and experience it. Maybe they also had a weary nation’s proxy to laugh, cheer, and shed tears.

Not that we weren’t doing our own at home, at work, or wherever we could watch.

Seeing it on television, reading other people’s reactions, talking to people I know who were there – sharing our feelings, our convictions, our resolve; it makes it seem more real, more precious. It makes this excited feeling stick around a little longer.

The personal crap (the self pity I mentioned before) can wait a while.