Being a reporter in the President-elect’s press pool (that is, the small group of journalists who travels with Obama each day and shares reporting with other media outlets that don’t have a representative that day) is a strange experience. It involves a heck of a lot of waiting around in vans for Obama to do something we can report. Then when he does venture out, life becomes about running really fast to catch him, fumbling with notebooks and recorders, a lingering fear of the motorcade leaving without you, and, if you are me, getting shoved out of the way by burly cameramen desperate to get the perfect shot.

For the most part, pool duty is a privilege, especially when you find yourself with a front row view of U2 serenading the President-elect with “City of Blinding Lights.” And every now and then you have the rare honor of seeing the President-elect in a moment that is as close to personal as one can be in public. That’s what happened yesterday when I had the opportunity to follow Obama to church.

The Obama family worshipped at 19th Street Baptist Church on Sunday morning, a 170-year-old congregation in Northwest DC, attended by a largely African-American population. It’s a progressive church—the current pastor, Dr. Derrick Harkins, is a vocal advocate for HIV-AIDS issues. The entire Obama family, including First Mother-in-Law Marian Robinson, sat in the second row. At times Obama and his wife whispered to each other, occasionally sharing a warm moment with a quick chuckle and a flash of their expansive grins. Obama sang, clapped and swayed along with the rousing choir. Mrs. Obama helped her youngest daughter Sasha follow along in the hymnal, every now and then rubbing her back supportively. If they hadn’t received a standing ovation the moment they walked in, they could have been a regular young family at Sunday services.

From my perch on the balcony, the support and goodwill Obama has engendered within this community felt palpable. Church-goers seemed like they bursting for an opportunity to vocally acclaim this storied figure in their midst. When 10 year old Nigel Sanders, a member of the church’s Kandelite Children’s Choir, tentatively stepped up to the microphone to say “Martin Luther King walked so Barack Obama could run,” the congregation erupted in such fierce cheers and applause that the rest of Sanders’ speech was nearly drowned out. “Just another typical Sunday at 19th Street Baptist Church,” quipped Pastor Harkins.

Being raised Catholic, I’m used to fairly staid church services and a healthy dose of guilt, so it felt very wrong to be taking notes on my lap, nosily peering over the balcony at congregants, BlackBerry buzzing in one hand. It felt uncomfortable to act as a dispassionate, unmoved reporter amongst people engaged in private but energetic worship. (I’m sure my mother would be horrified to learn that I didn’t stand at the appropriate times during the service). But the moment I felt most deeply voyeuristic was when Pastor Harkins spoke directly to Obama in his sermon.

Harkins’ sermon, entitled “For a Time Such as This”, drew from the Biblical story of Esther. Harkins told his flock that, like Esther, God prepares and locates people for moments in their lives when they will be called up on to do important, and sometimes difficult, work. Although he had already referenced Obama several times during the service, Harkins seemed intent on delivering a personal message in the sermon. After ruminating over the achievements of Rosa Parks, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Martin Luther King, Harkins asked “How could it be that the first black president of the Harvard Law Review would do anything other than dwell in the lofty heights of the best corporate law firms?” Soon he addressed Obama directly. “Perhaps, just perhaps, you are where you are for a time such as this,” Harkins intoned. Later he stressed the importance of Obama’s family: “Perhaps a family has been shaped and fashioned for such a time as this.” Harkins said that in times of harsh criticism Obama could turn to his family and “know the foundation upon which you stand” or to look at his wife and be encouraged by her. “God prepared you. God placed you. God will not forsake you,” he said.

Obama sat characteristically calm throughout the sermon. But I can't imagine there's too many people that deliver such personal messages to the directly President-elect these days and, as the President-elect presumably pondered and prayed, I couldn’t help feeling that I was intruding on a private moment.

(Charles Dharapak / AP)

What is it with do-gooders and their costume changes? For Clark Kent, it was phone booths and blue tights. The less demure Peter Parker would reveal his spidey spandex by simply ripping off his whatever else he had on. And so it is, it seems, with Barack Obama, who was sporting a business suit when he entered Walter Reed Medical Center this morning to visit wounded soldiers--and a more rugged checked-shirt-and-gray-jeans ensemble when he emerged an hour later.

The reason for the swap: a day of hands-on charity work meant to honor the memory of Martin Luther King, Jr., and set an example for volunteers participating in the 11,000 public service events organized, nationwide, at the president-elect's request.

Obama's first stop was Sasha Bruce House, a stately 35-year-old homeless shelter for teens near Capitol Hill where volunteers were already busy painting and preparing dormitories for incoming boarders. Shrugging off his casual navy jacket amid a few eager cries of "Mr. Obama!," the president-elect at first cautioned that he should do "something simple 'cause I could screw something up" (no electrical work, for example), but still gamely attempted to pry a stubborn balking valance loose before switching to painting--a job, he informed the press, that he held his 17-year-old summer, earning minimum wage. "This is good practice ‘cause I’m moving to a new house tomorrow," Obama cracked. 

“I do hope they’re watching my technique," he added, referring to the kids. “It’s not rocket science. You take the pole and the roller, then you roll. But you do need to apply some elbow grease – like everything we do.”

As that last remark suggests, the real purpose of the Sasha Bruce visit was inspiration rather than preparation. Coating a nearby wall with Yosemite Blue, Obama quoted King--"everybody can be great because everybody can serve"--before explaining what he wanted Americans to take away from National Service Day. “This country is great because of its people," he said. “We can accomplish anything. One of the goals of my administration will be to make sure that we have a government that’s more responsive and more effective and more efficient at helping families. But don’t underestimate the power for people to pull together and to accomplish amazing things. This facility is an example of somebody with imagination and determination… These young people have huge potential that right now is not being tapped, and given the crisis that we’re in and the hardships that so many people are going through, we can’t allow any idle hands. Everybody’s got to be involved. Everybody’s going to have to pitch in, and I think the American people are ready for that.”

A noble sentiment (and one, Obama added, that the Internet--"an amazing tool to organize people" that "we don't just want to use... in elections"--can possibly help make a reality). But as each of his predecessors learned soon enough, habit is often stronger than hope. Before Obama left for his next service event--an assembly at Calvin Coolidge High School in northwest D.C. where volunteers were decorating blankets, writing letters and taping video messages for deployed soldiers--Cara Fuller, a worker from Philadelphia, asked if he'd broken a sweat while painting.

“Nah, I don’t sweat," he said. "You ever see me sweat?”

We'll check back in four years.

It's not easy being red in Washington right now. Republican powerbrokers have fled, conservative commentators are bitter, and pretty much everyone is about to be out of a job by tomorrow. Once the hottest ticket in town, even attendance at tonight's Texas Black Tie & Boots inaugural ball is expected to be lackluster. So, going against the grain, I had a mission this weekend: find the good-natured young GOPers willing to take the Obama fever in stride and unbutton their top buttons with the rest of us.

Fortunately, I stumbled upon one. Lauren Blaine, 25, is an Obama-mocking, Prius-bashing, committed conservative, and an eager partaker of inaugural bashes. "I'm a happy Republican who would love to go to the inauguration. If you know anyone who has tickets, let me know," she told me, adding that she's excited about the energy in D.C. these days. In the absence of tickets, she is teaming up with some fellow conservatives to ring in the new presidency together at a party just outside the city.

So will the good will extend beyond the boozy celebrations? "I think people are just glad the election is over, because that was getting out of control," she said. "Now, it's more about [Obama] putting his money where his mouth is—OK, we're in a recession, so fix the country. It's not about winning, it's about governing. It's not a basketball game." Not quite willing to let the election dream die, she keeps a cardboard cutout of John McCain in her apartment. But these days, even John has gotten into the inaugural spirit with a few extra accessories.

Yes, of course, one person keeping it real is hardly a scientific survey. I can't reach the diehards, because they've either skipped town or retreated into a bleak half-week hibernation. I did hear tell of one GOP stalwart planning to board himself in his room with LSD, painkillers and a poster of Ronald Reagan on his wall until the inaugural madness subsides. Another, an imminently unemployed staffer, had similar plans to cut the electricity in his apartment and make his way through the liquor cabinet.

Fair enough. Losing a plush job in the middle of a recession probably wouldn't make me feel too warm and fuzzy either. But with more than 70 percent of Americans currently supporting Obama, I think it's fair to say that most of the country is on Lauren's side on this one.

By Dina Fine Maron

As change comes to Washington, the corporate world is directly tapping into the Obama lexicon.

Ikea, the Swedish furniture company, is running ads in the D.C. Metro, spouting familiar rhetoric such as “Embrace change,” and “The time for domestic reform is now,” in the hopes of driving business to their two local stores. Ikea even went so far as to create a completely Ikea-furnished mock oval office in one of the city’s train stations last week.

Pepsi, too, launched a “Refresh Everything” campaign, even adapting Obama’s signature “O” symbol into the newest Pepsi swoosh. The idea behind Pepsi’s new message is that this is the time for change--spiffying up their image, and sponsoring talks on education, revitalizing hip-hop, black America, and, yes, their cool refreshment.

The “Yes We Can” motto has been applied to more abstract ideas as well--like wind energy. The American Wind Energy Association billboards around Washington question if we can “create jobs out of thin air” and then answer their own rhetorical question: “YES, with wind energy WE CAN.”

But the slogans and symbols aren’t the only parts of Obama’s campaign to be appropriated by advertisers. His ability to mobilize voters and reach them through the Internet was a powerful tool during his campaign. That trial run at voter inclusion may have led the way for Pepsi and Ikea’s campaigns to get voters involved … as consumers. On Ikea’s Web site you can design your own oval office and then even e-mail it to the president. And Pepsi’s site suggests you think about what you would like to ask our new president--and then upload that video. As I munch on my “Yes Pecan!” Ben and Jerry’s ice cream (the unofficial Obama flavor), I find myself wondering: Is this all change you can believe in?

Celebratory is a safe way to describe the mood in Washington. And not just for Barack Obama's big day on Tuesday. When Obama raises his right hand, it will mark for millions of his supporters the end of something else.

At Dupont Circle in Northwest Washington, today is Bush's day. And more specifically, his last one as president. For much of liberal-leaning Washington and the millions of visitors expected for the week, it's something worth celebrating.

Bill Moyer, president of the Backbone Campaign, took the inaugural week as an opportunity to almost literally turn the page on Bush's presidency by unveiling a 50 foot copy of the preamble of the Constitution. Set up in the middle of Dupont Circle, he wants anyone he can get to sign it -- a public commitment to upholding the constitution, reintroducing it after what he says is the document's tarnishing over Bush's term. "Now more than ever is a time not to delegate our role in where this nation needs to go," he says, standing in front of a dozen people, many on all fours, singing the document with Sharpies. After the inaugural, Moyer will take the document to 10 other cities around the country, adding an additional 200 feet of signing space before the banner is unveiled in New York in April.

On the other side of the circle, a more spirited political statement depicts a blown-up Bush, standing nearly 20 feet high. His long nose is a fairly obvious nod toward a certain fairy tale. And in referencing a different less-than-flattering presidential moment, the organizers also encouraged passers-by to throw shoes at the inflated Bush. Several sign holders beside the statue stand advocating for federal indictments of top administration officials, including Bush and VP Dick Cheney.

All over town, aversion to Bush is in full form on the president's last full day. When any president leaves office, the foes and critics he has picked up along the way are traditionally -- and reasonably -- pleased to see him go. But it seems that Bush's critics have created a new standard. (Don't forget that even at the beginning of Bush's first term, protesters shouted against the validity of Bush's electoral victory. The result of the 2000 election, eventually settled before the Supreme Court, was a nation far too divided to give Bush an Obama-like reception.)

But now, are the blatant signals toward Bush's departure a bit much, especially during a week that's obviously supposed to be represent something completely new? After all, Obama did campaign on being a contrasting president to Bush, suggesting he's quite mindful of 43's slip ups.

What do you think? In the comments section below, tell us what role Bush's presidency should play as the country turns to Obama.