Russian Trump Inauguration

Most students are flying in. Why are you leaving?

D.C. The inauguration.

He replied as if it was obvious. I guessed he was Russian by his accent, and he said I was right, obviously again.

The funny thing was, I didn’t get the sense he was a Trump fan. Maybe he was, or maybe he wasn’t — I don’t know. He wasn’t wearing a MAGA hat, and for all I know, he might have voted for Harris — or not voted at all. Trump’s name didn’t even come up until I dropped him off. As a joke, handing him his luggage I casually told him to tell Elon and Trump I said hey.

It just didn’t make sense.

He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t probe. It was 4 a.m., after all. After dropping him off at the airport, I sat alone in my car, debating with myself. I couldn’t help but wonder why he was going. Maybe it wasn’t about politics. Maybe he was going because it felt like the thing to do — a moment in history, a new leader. Isn’t that what people do?

I’ve always loved a good bit of Americana. Flag waving at a Fourth of July parade? Sure. But the inauguration? I’ve never really thought much about it. I can’t even remember one.

How un-American of me.