Restoring Fear, then Combating it with Sanity

I'm kind of living the "When in Rome" motto these days - when in Rome, go to places and events Rome has.

I wish I was actually in Rome, so my re-worked motto could be literal as well as figurative, but I'll work with what I've got.

I am, however, in the place where the most anticipated Layman's Rally was staged to take place this weekend. Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert's "Rally to Restore Sanity And/Or Fear" stormed the National Mall in DC yesterday. And I was there.

A friend and I decided that we should go be part of history, so we met up with a few other friends and made our way - somehow - into the city. The Metro was a nasty place to be yesterday, to be sure. Even though we went in a little late, planning to get there right when Jon Stewart took the stage - skipping the pre-show excitement - there was still a huge crowd of people on the platform, waiting for trains as well. Apparently, earlier in the morning, there had been lines to even get into the Metro station, so many people were making their way into the city!

I managed to keep breathing through the heavy crowds around me (despite a slight cold that was fighting my nasal passages, yuck), but my claustrophobia started to kick in after we got off the train and made our way to the stairs to get out of the station. Masses of people were trying to squeeze their way onto the tiny escalators to get up, and it was all I could do to not start throwing punches to get out of there. But we made it, and I was so happy to get out of the crowded Metro.

Then we ran into the rally crowd.

I saw on a news article today that an estimated 250,000 people attended the rally. I believe it.

Despite Jon's theme, it was INSANE!

We wiggled our way into the rally somehow, smushed between hordes of people, and unfortunately, those people were basically our best view of the rally. We were so far from the closest screen that we couldn't really make out what was going on, and the speakers were nowhere near us, so people kept having to ask each other what was just said.

We cheered when we heard other people cheer.

We applauded when we heard applause in front of us.

We laughed when we made our own jokes, having no idea what other people were laughing at.

It was a pretty fun time.

We actually did get a little closer as we inched our way inward, but the most memorable moments really came from when we were further back. We were behind this tree when we first entered the throng, and a girl was sitting up in it - and these trees are huge, and really tall, so we're not too sure how she got up. Eventually, a boy decided he wanted to get up there, too, so he started scaling the tree. The murmur of speculation about whether he'd make it or plummet to the earth came over our section of the crowd. We gasped when he lost a little grip and we cheered as one when he made it into the tree. Everyone had forgotten about the rally momentarily - how much were we really a part of it before, anyway? - and this guy had become the focus. Then his friend started working his way up, a little less skillfully, and we were laughing a little at his gangly frame trying to conquer the massive tree. But we all cheered again as his friend steadied him in the tree. A third friend went up, too, positively shaking with fear, and we were all relieved when he made it, as though we knew him personally or something.

Then, as the 4 people were all tucked into the tree, we heard behind us, "HEY! GET OUT OF THE TREE!" The policeman's voice was impressively powerful to reach our ears from as far back as he was. The guys heard him and made their way back down, which was just as entertaining, but the girl heard nothing, so she stayed up. The policeman came closer to us, muttering, "Man, I don't want to go into this crowd, nobody wants me in here," half exasperated, half bemused. He and another office came in and called the girl down, and the people around the tree all helped her on her way down, since no one had any idea how she was going to get down herself - we were still rather impressed at how she might've gotten up there!

Then the policemen, standing right next to us, saw some people in a neighboring tree and sighed, refusing to fight their way through the crowd over to the tree. So they yelled to the tree-dwellers, who didn't hear them. So, they went on to the next tactic to do their job - they told all of us to yell, on the count of 3, "GET OUT OF THE TREE!" Our little section was unified at this moment, as everyone yelled together to get the people out of the tree.

When they still didn't budge, but looked a little confused about the fuss, I offered to throw some rocks at them to get them out. The 2nd policeman declined that idea, noting he wasn't nervous about me hitting the tree-dwellers, but the people around them would get hit, too. Then he wondered where his super-soaker watergun was, because that would be perfect. Finally, the message reached the people, and they got out of the tree, and the policemen made their way out of the crowd, praising us for our great police work.

That's the thing about rallies and events like this - everyone's there just to have a good time, so everyone was super nice. There were quite a few times when a hole opened up in front of us, and some guy next to me asked if I wanted to go up, instead of taking it right away himself. People were telling other people what was being said, cracking jokes with strangers, and having an all-around good time. Jon was right when he advertised this rally as being like Woodstock, but without the nudity and drugs.

It really was a blast, even if I couldn't hear most of what was going on, and it took us 30 minutes to get through 20 meters of road when we were trying to leave. And that was when Stephen Colbert's rally theme seemed to win out to me - fear was restored when I wondered if I'd ever make it out of the crowded streets, or if I'd be stuck there forever, not moving, not getting away.

But sanity pushed its way back as I realized that was an irrational worry, and I started shoving people out of my way to get back home.