Cameras couldn't create energy
Television doesn't get less dynamic than President Bush's long and winding ride to yesterday's inaugural parade.
Minutes seemed to morph into hours as the motorcade inched its way through Washington, a cadre of Secret Service agents trotting alongside like a bored Broadway dance troupe. The liveliest image: the darkly tinted windows of President Bush's boxy new limo, within which his and Mrs. Bush's hands could be seen waving languidly.
Some of the networks and cable news channels sought out telegenic action amid the protesters, who held their "Guilty of War Crimes" and "Troops Home Now" banners with their hands since security forbade poles. CNN inadvertently caught audio of one madly screaming counter-inaugurator repeating an expletive, and there was speculation by the voiceover analysts (the talking headless?) about whether the Bushes could actually see the dissenters.
The bulk of yesterday's coverage depended on vamping reporters, as they interviewed ordinary parade-goers, led viewers through digitally recreated parade routes, recalled previous inaugurations, and talked about the elaborate post-9/11 security measures. Outside of Bush's swearing in and his address, the "newsy" moments in the schedule, the day offered up only slowly moving vehicles and milling crowds.
Color was so scarce, cameras lingered on Jenna Bush as she applied some lipstick -- pink lip gloss, ABC's Barbara Walters later reported. Was there a mini-scandal in the works, as her parents seemed to discourage her public preening? People magazine will let us know. There was also an abundance of newscaster chatter about the first lady's fashion choice, an angelic white Oscar de la Renta outfit with a white scarf and white gloves. It was the visual bright spot all day long, particularly since it was generally surrounded by black limos and black suits.
The atmosphere among the assembled was positive but sober, and the president himself seemed to be quelling grins to stay in tune with the import of the ceremony at a time of war. Senator Trent Lott, the Mississippi Republican, delivered a joke or two at the start of the luncheon, but there was little ebullience in the air.
Even the parade was stiff and nondescript, a sea of marching bands, and the networks returned to regular programming shortly after the Bushes took their seats in the reviewing stand.
"We love our pageantry," NBC's Brian Williams noted early in the day, but apparently not enough to spend airtime on some 15,000 marchers stomping their heals to "Yankee Doodle Dandy."
The emotional moment of the day came when Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist administered the presidential oath. The 80-year-old Rehnquist has thyroid cancer, and appeared frail as he walked on the stage to perform his duties.
Matthew Gilbert can be reached at gilbert@globe.com. 