January the 20th

Topanga, Calif. (6:55 p.m. EST, 3:55 p.m. PST)

My wife and I are sitting on the bed, transfixed by the TV images of Obama and the others during the swearing in. I’m getting emotional, particularly when we see random shots of everyday people in the vast audience with tears streaming. Our two housecleaners arrive. They only speak a little English, but we ask if they listened to the inauguration on the radio as they drove to our house. They both enthusiastically say, “Oh yes!” “It’s a great day,” we say, and these two young Mexican women wholeheartedly agree.

Palo Alto, Calif. (4:30 p.m. EST)(1:30 p.m. PST)

Stanford graduate students meet for a design review inside their "sound-isolating" couch prototype. The inauguration parade plays on mute in the background.

Stinson Beach, Calif. (4:12 p.m. EST)(1:12 p.m. PST)

A dozen of us congregate for breakfast and Obama. The guests of honor: two young girls taking off time from school.

Some soundbites: "I traveled across the South when I was nine. Ike was president. I never expected to see this day."

"Would Mirian Anderson wear a hat like Aretha's?"

"Jimmy Carter looks like Yoda!"

"The only ones missing were the Blues Brothers!"

"The Tuskegee Airmen! True heros!"

Yerba Buena Gardens, San Francisco(1:50 p.m. EST, 10:50 a.m. PST)

When the Jumbotrons showing the inaugural speech in Yerba Buena Gardens went out, an older gentleman next to me took out a wind-up radio. A few of us huddled patiently around the little radio, Barack Obama's voice coming out uninterrupted, no buffering. We listened to our new president.

Ward Road, Bend, Ore. (1:05 p.m. EST, 10:05 a.m. PST)

My sister asks Finn, her three-year-old son, what jacket he wants to wear to school. He chooses a green striped jacket. "I can do the zipper, mom." He picks up his lunch box, swings it back-and-forth, and says, "It's kinda heavy."

My sister turns on the TV. The inauguration ceremony is about to begin. She asks Finn to say the new president's name. "Barack Obabama," he squeals, jumping up and down.

"O-bam-a," she says.

She asks Finn if he needs to go to the bathroom before they get in the car. He nods no.

Studio 2, Palo Alto, Calif. (morning)

This morning starting at 7 a.m. Pacific time, a group of graduate students gathered in studio 2 (grad student housing on the Stanford campus) to watch the inauguration. We ate bagels and donuts, drank OJ and even broke out champagne when Obama was finally sworn in. What did we talk about? Our excitement, how long we've waited for this day, Michelle's outfit, the inanity of some of the announcer's commentary. Some wondered why Cheney was in a wheelchair, others laughed when they saw the look on Bush's face as Obama gave his speech. There were thirty of us--engineering students, biology students, computer scientists, journalists.

Toby's Feed Barn, Point Reyes Station, Calif. (early morning)

Tiny powdered croissants and glasses of orange juice (perhaps laced with champagne) lined up perfectly on white table cloth. More people than the entire town's population piled on hay bales, Purina sacks, and the dirt, glasses reflecting the movements on the projector screen.

San Francisco (8:43 a.m. EST)(5:43 a.m. PST)

Now the morning news is rolling footage of someone apparently painting within a White House office, and I'm enraptured. I'm probably going to be late if I don't stop staring at the television, but I can't peel myself away. This feels like Christmas Eve circa kindergarten.

San Francisco (8:25 a.m. EST)(5:25 a.m. PST)

My bedroom television shows the morning news with the sound muted; I'm doing morning e-mail and not really paying attention. I look up just in time to see a commercial for Frost/Nixon, and experience actual shivers down my neck for only the fourth or fifth time since the presidential campaign began two years ago.

Los Angeles (8:22 a.m. EST)(5:22 a.m. PST)

Facebook status updates are alive with the sound of Obama.