Obama's inauguration | Great city, great nation; great president?

A worker helps tear down staging along the inauguration parade route on Pennsylvania Avenue.

In my book, Washington is the best city in the United States, perhaps the world. It's where I learned how to use an underground train. It's where I learned to drive like a maniac. It's where I fell in love with urban living.

It's a clean city with interesting and powerful people. And it's the origin of some of the greatest moments and some of the worst policies and best policymakers in American history. I didn't think it could get any better.

But this week, it did.

Barack Obama's inauguration brought together Americans from all states, races and political affiliations. They were there for a common reason: to watch history unfold, to say to their children or grandchildren that they watched - with 2 million others - the culmination of one of the greatest political campaigns in American history.

It's as if my Washington experience has come full circle. During the first month of my residency in the city - after moving to D.C. for graduate school at American University - the front cover of Time magazine was emblazoned with Obama's image and the headline "Why Barack Obama Could Be The Next President." It enumerated the reasons. But it wasn't my magazine; it was my roommate's. I didn't take it seriously. To me, it was another media organization trying to capitalize on someone else's seemingly rapid rise to political stardom.

And my first assignment in "journalism boot camp" at AU was to write a short story about Obama's famous hello-world speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. It propelled him into the spotlight.

It was only fitting for me to return for this moment.

But when I arrived at Reagan National Airport on Monday, the city was different. There was a closeness, a personable air that I hadn't felt before. I overheard stories told by people from Canada, Alaska, California, even Mexico and London, who had journeyed to the nation's capital for the same reason I had. We all were alike.

In D.C.'s Metro system, advertisements for clean wind energy, Ikea home furnishings and, of course, MoveOn.org congratulated Obama on his achievement. "Embrace change. Embrace education reform," an Ikea banner said, urging people to buy a new bookcase. Gift shops on K Street, in Georgetown and in the airport were full of Obama memorabilia. Pens. Magnets. T-shirts. Bumper stickers. Canvas bags. Buttons and hats. Was such enthusiasm in place when George W. Bush was sworn in?

On sidewalks and in train cars, chants of "Obama" and "Yes, we can" erupted. Maybe it was enthusiasm. Maybe it was a way to stay warm. Maybe it was both.

And because they were there for the same reason, people helped each other. At the airport Wednesday, a FEMA worker from Tampa, Fla., who worked the inauguration, let children pet his K-9 unit. A man next to me in line for the Capitol viewing area Tuesday helped a pregnant women climb over the fence in order to get in line. Someone dropped her ticket, and a man picked it up, yelled "Check your tickets" and found its rightful owner.

After the ceremony, I did hear some mildly disgruntled tourists. One said he had come "3,000 miles from Los Angeles just to listen to the inauguration on a transistor radio." Some people were enraged that the speaker for one of the JumboTrons had blown during the ceremony.

But still, they were happy just to be there.

I heard disgruntled residents, too. And I felt their pain. They're used to clueless tourists trying to jam their paper Metro cards into the machine. But such an influx of so many people in a such a tight area was too much to bear. "People just don't know how to keep moving," they said. "Don't stop. Push. Push."

But still, they were happy just to be there.

It's encouraging to witness the profound concern and, now, optimism for the nation's future. At 5 Wednesday morning, after awaking at 3:45 a.m. the day before, my TV journalist friend and I hopped out of bed, bundled up and walked a block to a Washington Post dispenser box. It was empty. At 7, we did the same thing. Empty again. Later, we learned that only convenience stores were selling the paper, and the regular editions were already gone. The commemorative edition, at $2 a pop, was still available. I bought one. But they also sold out quickly. Later on Wednesday, the cab driver who gave me a ride to Georgetown told me that The Post's headquarters had sold all of its copies by 5 a.m. Yes, people still care about what happens.

I decided to make this trip as spontaneously as the cheers broke out on the sidewalks. It's saddening to leave. And as I look out the window of a US Airways 737 en route for Orlando, the sun is beginning to set. But it has only risen on what I hope will be a great chapter for our nation.

The Capitol was well-lit during the nights before Inauguration Day. Hmm. I wonder who pays the electric bill.

Obama's inauguration | My location on the Capitol lawn

View larger map

This might give you a better idea of exactly how close I was to the action.

It was too the left and slightly closer to the building than I was for this lightning photo in July.

Offlede will fly to Washington for Obama's inauguration

On Tuesday, I will watch, in person, the next occupant of this house get sworn in.

Mirroring my own existence over the past few months, The Offlede has been quite stagnant.

That's about to change.

The Christmas season was uneventful. As most holidays go in the life of a copy editor, it consisted of work and loneliness, save for a period of frivolity on New Year's Eve. I paid a short visit to the only family I have within a thousand miles. And I stuffed myself Christmas morning with the French toast slam at Denny's, conjuring memories of big Christmas Day breakfasts back home in the Great White North.

But there's something about palm trees and hot air that mostly does away with any semblance Florida has of olden-day Christmases for me. Ah, but that's the price I pay for living in paradise and for not having to freeze my bum off. (Actually, that's just what transplanted Floridians say to make the pain bearable. Yes, we're in denial.)

The economy has further hit home. There's now talk of weeklong furloughs at work and of more layoffs. And at home, my landlord narrowly escaped losing his house to foreclosure by opting for short sale. That's fortunate for him, but it left me searching for a new place to live.

I'm moving tomorrow.

But the real excitement is what finally will snap me out of stagnation. Somewhat randomly, a friend and former classmate told me that I am welcome in Washington for Inauguration Day. Within hours of the news, I had gotten time off from work and booked a flight for Reagan National Airport. It's probably the most spontaneous thing I have done (just remember, I'm a boring newspaper editor).

I had been involved in some way with FLORIDA TODAY's front-page coverage of big events throughout the presidential campaign. But until yesterday, I thought I would not be involved at all with the edition that declares Barack Obama the 44th president because Tuesday is my Sunday. Now, I'm going to be in the thick of things by battling the crowds on the National Mall, camera in hand.

So don't miss it. The Offlede is about to get exciting.

But first, I need some winter clothing.

If you fancy cheap eats, D.C. is the place

As an appetizer at Matchbox DC, my friends ordered some mini burgers: angus beef on toasted brioche with pickles, onion straws and Gorgonzola, $14.

I've never been one to spend an incredible amount of money on food. Look in my refrigerator, and you'd see that it's true.

Good food is only enjoyable for the time it's in your mouth - a matter of seconds - and for the time it's leaving your body. The time in between, which is more prolonged, is usually quite unpleasant. I just don't see the need to go broke for something that causes such fleeting pleasure and lengthy discomfort.

My culinary frugality carries over to vacationing as well.

I traveled recently to Washington, D.C., where I avoided fancy restaurants - for the most part - and hit up the places with the good, classy, cheap eats.

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The exterior of Matchbox DC in Chinatown.

The veggie pizza, $12.

Penny-wise pizza

Matchbox DC is a famous "vintage pizza bistro" on H Street in Chinatown that offers the best brick-oven pies in all of the District. It's a classy place, and there's always a line out the door.

When I went with a few friends, we were told we'd be waiting for an hour. But we knew a waitress, and she let us in early. As I've said before, D.C. is all about the people you know.

Shooting for something different, I ordered a $12 veggie pizza, less than half of which I was able to consume, leaving leftovers to further stretch my hard-earned dollars. It had sauteed cremini mushrooms, sweet onions, roasted red peppers, a zesty tomato sauce and mozzarella.

Usually, I wouldn't be caught dead eating a pizza without meat, but this one was surprisingly meaty on account of the mushrooms. Plus, there's that old adage: less meat, less price. So in the end, it was the smart choice. Besides, I had just eaten from my friends' mini burger plate for an appetizer, so I didn't need more meat.

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The little cheeseburger from Five Guys with regular fries, $3.49.

Big little burger, small little bill

When you talk about burgers in D.C., you can't go without mentioning Five Guys, which made the nation's capital famous for its greasy goodness.

Five Guys is a franchise that started in D.C. but has spread nationwide. According to its Web site, there are 47 of them currently in or coming soon to Florida.

But I never have and probably never will chow down on a Five Guys burger anywhere other than D.C. My friend and I - starving out of our minds - made a random trip there around 11 p.m. Mind you, Five Guys excursions usually do come during the late-night hours.

The fries are great at this place - especially the Cajun spiced ones - but it's the burger that makes the trip satisfying. When it comes in a to-go bag, the burger soaks the bottom thoroughly with grease - even though it's wrapped in foil.

I got a "little" cheeseburger because the large ones are for serious eaters, and as I said, I'm not one of them. It was only $3.49 for 720 calories, which did wonders for my energy level, eliminating the need for another costly meal later on. And I stole the fries from my friend, so even better for the finances!

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The outside of a Potbelly location in Chinatown.

My pizza sub at Potbelly, $4.19.

Light fare, light price

Potbelly Sandwich Works started in Illinois, so it's by no means unique to the District.

But because you can't get a Potbelly sandwich south of the Virginia-North Carolina line, I had no choice but to grab one while I was in town. And it's cheap anyway, so why not?

The shop is great because, on many days, a live band is playing on an elevated platform in the dining room. When you combine good music with a $4.19 pizza sub, you're getting a lot of bang for your buck.

Can't get all that at Quizno's.

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A photo of Oyamel taken the night before I had its catfish.

Indulging, on someone else's dime

Of course, a trip to a fancy city is pointless without a trip to a fancy restaurant while you're there, right?

Not really. Not in my book.

But - lucky me - I had the chance to partake in a fine culinary experience for free. A professor whom I still keep close ties with took me to Oyamel Cocina Mexicana, located just off Pennsylvania Avenue in the Penn Quarter.

It's not the typical Mexican you get in America: no sugary margaritas here. It's "authentic" ethnic food from Mexico. And it actually tasted more of Spanish cuisine than of anything from south of the border. Most of the dishes were served as tapas, or small servings that combine to make a full meal.

Professor and I took a more traditional approach and ordered full entrees for our lunches. I got some catfish on a bun; he got some other kind of meat on a bun. Both came with a salad, chips and salsa.

I can't remember what it cost, but it was more than I would spend myself.

But was it good?

You betcha.

Video | A quick look at the glamorous Newseum

There will be many more photos with the upcoming post about the Newseum, the massive First Amendment on D.C.'s Pennsylvania Avenue.

I can't tell when I'll have the motivation to write something about my July visit to the Newseum, Washington, D.C.'s shiny tribute to the stuff people talk about. It's not a time issue, really. It's surely a laziness problem I've suffered since returning from my second vacation of the summer, which was in Maine.

The next vacation will be early next month. It will entail three days of sightseeing in San Francisco and two days of golfing and vineyard-hopping in Napa Valley. I'm going with a longtime friend and former roommate who is now an energy reporter at The Associated Press in New York City.

For now, I'll share this video of the museum, which I edited on the flight to Maine. It really has nothing to do with what I plan to write about, so there's no reason to save it for later. I also have photos, which will go with the main post.

Take note of the botched headlines that make up the tiles of the bathroom walls. It's at the end. I will touch on that in the post that's coming soon. I promise!

Just the details at Vietnam Veterans Memorial

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial was the only widely known monument that I hadn't visited while living in D.C. I went there on the last day of my visit. I decided to photograph only details, with the exception of the photo above.

The end of the barrel is the only thing in focus in this photo of "The Three Soldiers" statue.

A small sign at the start of the wall.

The first name on the wall.

A plaque left at the base.

Necklace.

Red, white and blue.

A laminated short biography left near this soldier's name.

A tattered piece of cloth.

Reflection off the wall with the Capitol dome in the distance.

Pointing out a name with a map of downtown Washington.

A rubbing of Alphonso D. Cowan's name.

The red fingernail stands out from the black wall.

Flowers on the lone wreath placed near the bend of the wall.

A family that likes to wear the same sneakers.

The last name on the wall. I read this as "Jessica Alba" each time.

Work, work, work inspires D.C. photo essay

Duck, duck, abuse. A boy near the World War II memorial tries to foul the fowl by getting it wetter than it already is.

I'm less than a week away from my second vacation of 2008, but I haven't finished showing you the first, a trip to Washington a few weeks ago.

I've been quite busy in the time I've returned, as you've probably gathered in my few posts since that disastrous stay of 12 hours in an airport terminal. Most of my time has been occupied with work, some with jury duty, some with nonwork editing.

But work is what inspired this post, which is mostly just photos, like many others on The Offlede. On Friday, I put in my first full shift as an online producer. I created a photo gallery of the day's best images. It did quite well on the site - for a weekend, anyway - with about 5,000 hits. See it here.

Modeled after the San Francisco Chronicle's Day in Pictures gallery, I did what I think all newspapers should do: write short, engaging captions for each photo. It's not always easy, but I think it works better than being long and boring, as I usually am.

Ruling behind an iron gate. I toured this place last year with a few Senate interns. Cameras are prohibited inside; this is the best I could do.

Never give up. For years, she has protested President Bush's stand for Israel. She camps in front of the White House, shews away pigeons and speaks gibberish.

Watergate ain't for pansies. Some variety of the morning glory is in favor at the hotel.

Not dressed for the conditions. A worker cleans the reflecting pool near the World War II memorial. You would think he would wear less.

Yeah, well, I can do that, too. A duck mimics the pose of the Washington Monument.

I'm taller than all y'all. Washington towers over a tree and a tourist on the mall.

O'er land of the free. One of the flags around the Washington Monument waves beneath the sun. D.C. is a great place to visit because places such as this are free.

Sweet rides. Two mounted members of the Ark Police stand sentinel as children, off camera, gawk at and try to touch their transportation.

Holy mackerel sky. The steeple of the Church of the Ascension and St. Agnes on Massachusetts Avenue reaches for the cloud-shrouded heavens.