I love a good parade, and even though this one was more than 700 miles from our home and it didn't have a respectable float to speak of or 50-foot balloon cartoon figures bouncing down the street, I'd be damned if I was going to miss it. I just couldn't bear to miss Bush's inaugural parade. There are oh so many reasons. Let's start with the famous smirk. It creeps up on his face reflexively, that is to say uncontrollably, but it's different than, say, a facial tick or a nervous habit. This is a smirk that's probably encoded into his DNA, one that speaks volumes about his arrogance, privilege, rudeness, sense of entitlement, callousness and just plain inability to connect on an honest human level with others. It is the smirk of the most obnoxious frat boy you ever had the misfortune of knowing, the kid who purposely stomped on your foot every day in kindergarten, and the snooty sales clerk who knows you're broke all rolled into one. Moving on. Let's ignore the constant malapropisms because they are well-documented - it's interesting to note that when Barbara Bush was First Lady, her major campaign was literacy and that his wife was a librarian - and, on the right person, could possibly be endearing. This isn't the right person. George W. Bush is an entitled daddy's boy who used his privilege to buy his way out of trouble and into careers. As governor, he executed with a trigger happy abandon and an eye firmly on his approval ratings. Now, as President, despite his claims of bipartisanship, he has nominated a cabinet so far to the right it strains your neck just to gaze upon their photos in the newspaper. For these and other reasons, we decided to drive with some friends to D.C. to give Mr. Bush a real Vegan Street welcome. Joining us were thousands of other rabble rousers of every stripe and persuasion: reproductive rights supporters, anarchists, Gore loyalists, socialists, union folks, environmentalists, anti-death penalty activists, and on and on. Scores of the disenchanted and disenfranchised lined Pennsylvania Avenue along the parade route, carrying signs that ranged from the laminated and slickly produced to hand-scrawled on the Metro on the way to the parade. Shoulder to shoulder once we got past the police checkpoint, we joined a vigorous, passionate and vocal mass of people hellbent on letting Bush know that his stated desire for an active citizenry is very much granted. Despite the many hours spent in the rain and cold, there were moments of levity. As rain turned to wet snow turned to hail, a rousing chant of "Hail to the thief!" filled the air. The Radical Cheerleaders lifted the crowd's mood with the kind of spirited, political cheers you'd never hear at a school football game. A large contingent of Puerto Rican protesters kept our feet from going numb with their lively songs and drumming. There was a genuine feeling of unity among the assembled, despite our disparate backgrounds and passions. We were linked in solidarity against one common target. Of course there were small pockets of Bush supporters dotting the parade route too, but their numbers were very insignificant compared to his critics and they mostly stuck with their own kind. Even if they hadn't, their fur coats, cowboy hats and leather boots announced their political leanings as clearly as any blinking neon sign would have. Early in the morning, we walked by one of the Bush supporter's camps, and it was truly like walking on a sound stage for Dallas or Dynasty circa 1983. The men were outfitted in their best urban cowboy gear, some wearing trendsetting plastic bags over their 10-gallon hats, and the women, oh, the women... Let's just say that it looked as though most of them were in a coma from 1983 until the present, and they emerged semi-conscious for the Bush presidency with big ol' hair, lots of heavy, bright make-up, and ground-sweeping full length fur coats. Ick. I half-expected to hear heated debates about who shot J.R. One of the more enjoyable aspects of the day was whenever one of the Bush loyalists would accidentally wander into the protesters domain and jeers rippled through the crowd like a tidal wave. It was bad enough that they had the foul weather to contend with, and now this. The look on many pinched right-wing faces was one of sheer annoyance at the nerve of these sore losers for daring to spoil their party. The other look was of complete discomfort, as many fur bedecked women looked like they wanted to be swallowed up by the pavement once the cries of "Fur is dead!" and "How many animals did it take to make that coat?" sprung from the feisty crowd like missiles. It was a vegan activist's dream landscape and a rude awakening for these who came itching for a Republican Rah! Rah! Rah! wingding. Who can blame them? All the newspapers were heralding the new administration as a return to beef and fur coats. It was THEIR time... Even the Washington Post said so. Wrong. Instead what they found was a unified, organized and focused resistance to the kind of values beef, fur coats and the Bush administration represent. And they were shocked. So this is the thing... I've got a deal for you: I promise to not stop speaking my mind and being a thorn in the side of the greedy forces who exploit, oppress and torture if you do too. I will deepen my commitment and cry foul every time someone does something that is callous and indifferent to suffering. I vow to not shut up when my conscience demands that I speak up. I will follow those intent on destroying the planet for personal gain like a hound on the scent, and I will do my best to expose their intentions and actions. I will be tireless. I've just seen thousands of people stand in the cold and rain for hours just to hold up a sign or yell a message as a black limousine and Secret Service agents raced past, and I know we have the conviction and power to effect enormous change if we want to. Have no illusions -- that is what is necessary. Bush and his corporate cronies have declared a not-so-silent war on the natural world and not only do they not have any intention of stopping, but they are escalating their efforts. So let's renew our commitment to being truth-tellers regardless of the outcome. Let's be fierce, tireless, creative, humane and smart. Now let's wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

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