Dear Reader,

Greetings on this first full day of Joe Biden’s presidency. I confess I am writing in a hazy hangover of emotion, celebration, fireworks, and drink. I am tired but hopeful and happy. As on Election Day, the happiness I feel is not like the joy of a birth, but rather like the exultation at a life narrowly saved. Both feelings are welcome, but they are different. The latter leaves you on edge; the joy is mixed with relief and perhaps lingering stress about what could have been.

I think back to Barack Obama’s Inauguration twelve years ago. I was able to attend, in person, the festivities on that historic day – January 20, 2009. Because I not only worked in the Senate but for then-Chair of the Senate Rules Committee, Chuck Schumer, I was able to score – through that office and through other connections – tickets not only for me and my wife but also for my young kids and my parents.

It was a family affair on that frigid Tuesday morning, as we set out for the D.C. metro a little after 5 am. It was about 18 degrees, the kids bundled up looking like little Michelin men. Our seats were scattered among three locations, none of them great, but no one complained as we were about to see the swearing in of the first Black president in American history.