Okay. The President’s second inaugural is upon us, and you’re going to party like it’s 1899. Go Ahead – you’ve earned it. Well, you paid for it, anyway.
Be aware, though, that just because anything seems to go in Washington doesn’t mean that anything goes at the inaugural celebrations. Before you do something that your bank account will regret, it would be wise for you to brush up on your rules of inaugural etiquette.
Don’t: expect to actually talk to the President.
Don’t: expect the President to remember your name if you are one of the lucky few he actually does speak to. He will likely call you “Granite Chin” or “Bubble Boat” or “Captain Light Fantastic.”
Do: pretend that it is endearing.
Don’t: congratulate Tom DeLay on keeping his hold on power. He’s a little touchy about the subject at the moment.
Don’t: complain about the food. You want a good chunk of meat, go to Arbies. And, while we’re on the subject, don’t: complain about how uncomfortable the tuxedo you’re wearing is. You’ve got a front row seat to history, and you’re bitching about getting splinters. Really, suck it up.
Don’t: gloat. We’ve got four years – let’s pace ourselves, shall we?
Don’t: worry too much if the valet who parked your car didn’t seem very butch. We’ve got four years – let’s pace ourselves, shall we?
Don’t: panic if a protestor shows up in front of the hotel where the party is happening. Lord knows, we’ve tried our best to keep them on the other side of the city. Besides, we can afford to be magnanimous during this special occasion. Have I mentioned that we’ve got four years and we should really consider pacing ourselves?
Don’t: be too impressed with the limo. Last week, Charlie Sheen threw up all over the seat you’re now sitting in. Next week, it’ll be Hillary Duff’s turn. Washington can be a hard town.
Don’t: talk about how much money you spent on the inauguration. Trust us. Vice President Dick Cheney has a printout in the top drawer of the desk in his office of everybody who gave to the $40 million inaugural festivities fund and who didn’t. He likes to think of it as his very own naughty (good) and naughty (bad) list. Only, the Vice President has much better presents that video games and music CDs to give to the people who have been good to him…
Don’t: throw up in the bunch bowl. Really, people. There are very nice Secret Service gentlemen who will be happy to escort you to a bathroom or even the back of the building. Out of sight, out of tabloids.
Don’t: make a joke about the twins’ alcohol problems or the Vice President’s lesbian daughter. The line between naughty (good) and naughty (bad) is a fine one, indeed.
Don’t: boast about what you expect Santa Dick to give you in return for being naughty (good) about the inaugural festivities. The Republican Party has done its best to ensure that only naughty (good) people attend, but, damn, that Rob Corddry can be one sneaky little bastard!
Don’t: make fun of any song with lyrics about the American eagle soaring high. John Ashcroft’s heart is in the right place.
Don’t: be put off if, in his inaugural address, the President talks a lot about liberty and freedom. The freedom he’s talking about is the freedom to avoid paying your fair share of taxes; the liberty he refers to is the liberty to rob your employees and customers blind. Besides, it plays well to the heartland.
Don’t: offer the President an alcoholic beverage. Secret Service agents will just have to wrestle you to the ground, and that’d be just plain embarrassing for all concerned.
Don’t: remark about how waiting to get your hands on money diverted from the country’s Social Security fund is torture. Such a remark would be wrong on so many levels.
Don’t: be put off by that sad figure sitting on his own in the corner. That’s just David Frum wondering whether he’s got another great catchphrase in him, or if it’s time to retire, his reputation made on the basis of three words (one of which wasn’t actually his).
Don’t: worry about whether you could have gotten into a better party. There’s always a better party. Try to be thankful you’re not one of the 300 million Americans who weren’t invited to any inaugural parties at all.
Do: go out there and have a great time!