Obama's Inaugural Breakfast

Belltown's living room, Buckley's, is packed. We're facing a traditional American breakfast: eggs over easy, bacon, hash browns, toasted muffin. Pat of butter, small plastic tub of raspberry jam. We've already had our espresso, now it's time for a serious Mary, garnished with pickle, pepper, olive and lemon slice, accompanied by shot of Pete's Wicked Ale. Deceptively traditional; only today do we recognize its incredible diversity. So here's the challenge: What to tackle first? The spicy tomato-vodka beverage? A bite of garnish? The pickle or the pepper? Perhaps the bacon, crisp and peppery? Not the hash browns; they look like they came out of a box. With humility and gratitude, we pick up our fork and break one of the yolks. The first bold stroke of action taken. The price and promise of breakfast, of hope and virtue, a meal both real and serious, the cheerful and joyous beginning of a new day.