Barack Obama is coming to Ottawa on Thursday. Even though there is no public appearance scheduled, I work just steps away from Parliament Hill and the ceremonial route to the airport, so I don’t think I’ll be able to resist stepping out and joining what they’re predicting will be massive crowds lining the streets, hoping for a peek at the passing limo. The Globe had a great article yesterday on past presidential visits. Did you know they airlift an armour-plated, chemical-and-bullet proof Cadillac nicknamed ‘the Beast’ over the border? Hope that puppy has decent snow tires, cuz the forecast looks messy.
Despite my best efforts (consisting of two or three pages of google search returns – hey, I have a lot on my plate right now!) I haven’t been able to crack the code of deep security around Thursday’s itinerary. He arrives at 10:30, and it should take around an hour for him to work his way downtown, by my estimation. The most logical (and scenic) route is down Colonel By, if he goes to either 24 Sussex or the Parliament Buildings. How long I’m willing to stand out in the forecasted snow/rain mix, ostensibly on a coffee break, remains to be seen, I guess.
I’m not sure why I’d be willing to stand outside in a massive crowd of strangers in the February cold just to maybe, possibly, catch a passing glimpse of a limo or, under the best possible circumstance, a brief presidential wave… but I would. He hasn’t been in power long enough for his magical magnetism to fade just yet, and there’s something in me that wants to be a part of that. (Not as much as the busloads of people coming in from southern Ontario, though! I’m keen, but if I had to make any more effort than bundling up and walking 50 metres from my office, I’m not sure I’d bother.) I’ve read in several media reports that Obama is more popular here than he is in the US. I can think of a few reasons why, George Bush and Stephen Harper formost among them.
Back in 1990, I was lucky enough to stumble into the roped-off sidewalks on the Sparks Street pedestrian mall just before then-president Mikhail Gorbachev of the USSR walked among the crowds. I even shook his hand! My friends said I should have rubbed the infamous birthmark and made a wish. Instead, I grinned and said something foolish like, “Here’s to world peace!” and he replied in Russian, which was probably something to the effect of, “Hello nice Canadian girl, could you please stop staring at my forehead?” I also had fun with the cheeky strangers standing nearby, playing a rousing game of “spot the KGB” – usually, the ones with the really bad polyester suits. The bomb-sniffing dogs were cool, though.
That was pure chance — I was downtown to pay my Zellers bill and annoyed I couldn’t get across Sparks St for all the ropes and barricades. I made a more concerted effort to pay my respects to Pierre Trudeau when he lay in state, though. I queued up on a cool September evening for nearly five hours for the chance to file past his casket in the Hall of Honours of the Centre Block. I’m not sure why I did that, either, except I’ve always been pleased that I did.
What do you think? Are the “I was there!” bragging rights worth the effort? How far would you go to catch even the tiniest glimpse live and in person of the sunshine that streams forth from the Obama entourage? At the very least, whatever direction this little adventure takes will likely leave me with some decent fodder for Project 365. I tell you, there is no end to the lengths to which I will go for decent blog fodder…
(Speaking of blog fodder, you only have six days left to vote to send me to BlogHer this summer!)