There wasn't a wet eye in the house

I'd like to report that the oath of citizenship was a very moving ceremony that didn't leave a dry eye in the house. Instead, I can report that it was the strangest bureaucratically bungled BS ceremony I've ever had to sit (and stand) through. It was as if they had never put one of these things together before.

First of all, it took forever to get through security. I'm sure that the scanning equipment was manned by guys who didn't make the grade at the airport. We were eventually herded into the auditorium where a fat, handicapped guy from Haiti (or some equivalent place) in a wheelchair was directing traffic. After a while the auditorium was filled with the tired, poor, huddled masses, yearning to breathe free. The TPHM soon started shuffling around in their seats and talking to one another in low and excited tones. After a while, and well past the supposed starting time of 2PM, the FHGfH rolled his wheelchair up the ramp, parked behind the lecturn (so no one could see him) and spoke softly in heavily accented English (so no one could understand him) without a microphone (so no one could hear him). The screen behind him lit up with some patriotic-looking scene, and then started showing pictures of immigrants through the ages, but without any sound. The FHGfH rolled down the ramp from the podium to a side room, and then called in some other guy for hurried consultations. Finally, with 90% of the video done, the patriotic and moving music came on to accompany the patriotic and moving photos.

OK, we thought, we've finally got this show on the road. The FHGfH rolled himself back up on stage and asked if we had any questions. The TPHM looked at one another with the universal "huh?" look, but remained silent. The FHGfH then said, "I've got a question for you. What's the process for filing form I130?" More universal "huh" looks. Someone finally asks, "What's form I130?" The FHGfH then launches into his mumbling, rambling, heavily accented explanation of the intricacies of the I130 application. More "huh" looks, with murmuring about whether we were really in the right room. Then some of the TPHM got into the act, and started asking the FHGfH about how best to get their 85-year-old mothers into the country. So what I thought was supposed to be an oath ceremony turned into a seminar on the complexities of immigration. Soon, most of TPHM got restless and started wandering around the auditorium, talking to their friends and relatives who had come to witness the sacred event, talking on their cell phones, and going to the bathroom. I got up and chatted with Rita and Joe, who had come to watch me on my big day. All the while, the FHGfH held forth from the podium, oblivious to the pandemonium that was surrounding him.

Then, a 40ish somewhat heavy-set and somewhat harried-looking woman came in and took charge. She introduced herself as the acting director of the Seattle office of Immigration and Citizenship Services. She apologized for the confusion, but gave no explanation of what had happened. She then tried to get everyone back to their seats and get people back from their bathroom breaks. It took a while before the crowd was reassembled and back in their seats. She gave a bit of a talk, and welcomed us all. She led us in taking the oath, we watched a video of W welcoming us, and then the FHGfH re-emerged, reading the names of the 121 new citizens, who then walked across the podium and received their papers from the acting director. Of course, no one could hear or understand the FHGfH, so people just waited expectently to hear a fragment of their name or the name of the country of origin. This all took a while. Then we all stood and did the Pledge of Allegience.

But wait, there's more! After the pledge, the acting director welcomed us as new citizens, and then hit the button to play the music video of Lee Greenwood's "Proud to be an American" or "God Bless the USA" or whatever that patriotic drivel is called. By then Joe couldn't take any more and left. Rita was also gone, not having planned to spend an entire afternoon at the event.

Then, mercifully, it was over.