Perhaps I’m stuck in some sort of media bubble, but I find it difficult to believe that many good friends of mine needed to be reminded that Tuesday was Inauguration Day. These aren’t dumb people, either. Regardless of whether or not you voted for Obama, shouldn’t you feel downright irresponsible for not paying even the slightest attention to this event? Sadly, I’m sure that many more people paid attention to the Super Bowl than a peaceful transfer of power.

Here’s where one of you should lambaste me for being a damn hypocrite. Can you remember ever watching an inauguration ceremony before? Maybe I did accidentally, but I have no proof.

So now that we’re in our first new week of an administration, I worry about the mountain of expectation heaped upon the man and his administration. It’s the first day of school, where gaffes rule and even the oath of office is corrected. I’m optimistic, as long as people give the guy a chance. We’re an impatient bunch, we Americans.

So on a rather historic Tuesday of 2009, I produced a piece on a small barbershop in South Peoria. Customers and barbers alike watched a small television tuned to CNN, leaving the typical sports talk to another day. Some teared up, while others smiled or just stared. I’m sure there were a lot of memories and feelings sitting heavy in the room that day.

You’ve been so patient, dear readers. I know how, excited you are about Inaugural Day 2009. So are these band geeks from Morton, Ill. In all honesty, I had fun covering them and it was nice having an assignment away from Peoria (I never, ever thought I’d be excited about going to Bloomington/Normal, sheesh.) But what can I say, I’m a lame dude.

Here’s the follow-up video I shot yesterday… notice how absolutely emotional some got as the buses pulled away.

Has anyone else had this problem? I bought a micro-fiber couch many months ago, a chocolate-colored ditty that looks good in my apartment. I spent a fair amount of money for it, at least for someone buying his first big piece of furniture besides a bed, so I’m rather perturbed about this. Whenever I sit on the thing, the ape-like hair on my arms immediately rises and reaches out for the soft fabric. I suppose it’s the sign of a dry winter environment, but it still seems odd that these things are sold without some sort of warning. I’m trying the dryer sheet treatment, but what if that doesn’t quell the demons within?

Let’s not even talk about the back cushions becoming shaped like those dinosaur chicken nuggets you ate in the gradeschool cafeteria. Those may be remarkably nutritious, but not comfortable.

Although I’ve said very little about my new job, it involves a lot more video and a lot less still photographs. I’m still coming to terms with this (and I promise to speak more about it) but I figure I might as well show you what I really do at work. With 27-year-old Aaron Schock’s win to become a United States Representative, his former Illinois House seat was left vacant. A dark horse Democratic candidate named Jehan Gordon clenched the spot, but Republican Joan Krupa was sworn in to temporarily serve in 92nd District Illinois House. For 10 whole days, she’ll get to decide the fate of our infamous governor, Rod Blagojevich. (I bet you can’t spell his last name as quickly as I do.) Gordon will then take-over the seat for the full upcoming term. Odd stuff, politics.

Damn you, New Year’s resolution. 2009 will be no different than any other year, and we know this by taking a little journey back through time here at ofadam.com. The archives reak of bile and regret and forgetfulness above all else. Yes, I did celebrate the aught eight to aught nein conversion with friends, but those photos will have to wait. I mean, you came here for the boys and girls frolicking in their skivvies, right? GET TO IT.

6:25pm… And we’re off to Wichita! What’s cooler than Amtrak?

7:25pm… We’re stopped in Fort Madison, Iowa. I’ve just finished a delicious veggie and hummus sandwich called the Healthy, and washed it down with some sweet green tea and spinach bisque. I made the right choice in grabbing dinner at a spot a few blocks from the train station. The observation car is nice, with a lot of people quietly reading, but it’s drafty. So I’m back at my seat, which is bordering on too warm. Bonus: small pillow left for me by steward.

7:55pm… Silence interrupted. Apparently a family is sitting in front of me. There’s potty talk. And the father is one of those dads that makes a lot of noise when sitting down in his seat. It sounds like a yawn, but with a lot of volume. He talks the same way. Slight bonus: watching people try to walk the length of the train while it wiggles through Missouri. Drunken sailors!

8:04pm… An attractive, young female conductor surprises me. Very, very business-like in that cap and suit. I hope I’m in trouble?

10:39pm… All’s quiet for the past few hours aboard our car. Snickers bar. A very cute girl sits behind me, curled up and smiling at me. Or is she squinting?

3:30am… Is there a term for someone who can’t sleep well in a plane or train?

4-something am… In my old bed, I fall asleep.

My Netflix queue has become somewhat of a running joke among friends. And it’s for good reason, I assure you. Since May of this year, I’ve tightly held onto ‘The Diving Bell and the Butterfly.’ I am Linus, and this is my security blanket.

I hear gasps, yes, but it’s true. Originally a movie I intended to see in the theater, it was quickly bumped to the top of my queue 6 months ago right as I moved into my new apartment. I mean, you just don’t ignore a movie that gets a 92 on metacritic.com. But like many who’ve had trouble with certain movie downers, it’s sat under my TV for half a year, through a summer that I still need to write about, a TV that was replaced, and friends that were lost (although not in a deathly way.)

So maybe it was the needle-like sleet that hit me the entire way home, or the fading traction of my car on the slick pavement, but tonight I accomplished something half a year in the making. Sadly, it’s just a movie. Loser.

Since when did Pam get so bitchy?

Could we blame it on medication? Or should we blame those unsatisfied writers at The Office, so bored of their creation that they’re willing to kink up America’s favorite couple? It’s not a good change, we can be sure of that. In the Pam v Karen competition, I always stuck up for the less sophisticated girl. But I may have finally changed my mind.

One can look back at all the short-lived television shows that have left before their time. Let us weep for Arrested Development. Rend our garments for Freaks & Geeks. Usually we are sad, like a drunk holding a weightless paper sack. But maybe there’s a reason for everything, as some say, and we should be thankful for the television-euthanasia that spares us from shows getting too old and pointless.

(How about that 30 Rock, though?)

Like my long lost iPod Touch that disappeared many months ago (only to reappear in the bottom of my laptop bag,) I’m back in action here at ofadam.com. You should know, though, that I may be wearing shoes that are too small. I resorted to having my left shoe off most of the evening last week while working at my desk.

I had a little jaunt through Nebraska this past weekend, one that cleared the mind and recharged my batteries. I’m throwing together some words and photos to do it justice.

There’s also that new job to talk about. You’ve heard, right?

I figured there was a much more complicated process to enjoy a pomegranate. You know, a terrifying ritual of specialized knife cuts and bowls of lukewarm water. Fruit surgery, it turns out, is completely unnecessary. Just peel it.

Laura brought over canvas and acrylic paints to prove once and for all that I’m not a classic artist.