The Christening of the USS Illinois

I've never attended the christening of an ocean-going vessel before so I wasn't sure what to expect. Add to that, the fact that the First Lady would be wielding the bottle of champagne and I was at a total loss regarding perfunctory protocol. Savannah, of course, was a BIG help. "Wear closed-toe shoes," her informative text directed. Does the First Lady have something against my piggies, I wondered. I could assure her that, given a popularity poll, her toes would certainly outshine mine. I could practically hear Savannah sighing from Connecticut. "You're walking through construction spaces and over docks," she clarified impatiently, already beginning to regret her decision of inviting me to this prestigious event. But it was too late now...my friend, Joan and I had already made the seven hour journey to Connecticut, closed-toe shoes firmly in hand.

To Savannah's relief, we made it through the first wave of security without too much fuss although I did pause to point out that I had just that morning chopped my bangs so any discrepancy between my current appearance and my passport photo could be attributed to that. The Secret Service thanked me for my forthright honesty and patriotism before asking me to move on. The second wave of security also went relatively smooth except I involuntarily adopted the dramatic Charlie's Angels pose during the pat-down. "She's clean," the Secret Service Man reported and I beamed proudly. "Mom," Savannah interjected, interrupting the chronicling of this national event, "You do realize that those men were just regular security guys...not Secret Service agents, don't you?" I smiled gently at my daughter...she's so naive.

We walked through the submarine hangar in our closed-toe shoes, marveling at the larger-than-life ships. A woman handed us an event program and a pair of sunglasses with their own little cloth case emblazoned with the date and the name of the submarine, the USS Illinois. This was the pivotal moment where we realized that we weren't attending just any ol' christening. No one just GIVES you glasses. Even in Disney, you have to hand back your bright yellow 3-D glasses after Mickey's

Philharmagic. And then we hit the food. We stared in wondered confusion at the lines and lines of Chicago-style sandwiches being prepared before our very eyes. Disbelieving, we searched for a cashier but no...it was free. Savannah and Joan immediately grabbed a barbecue brisket-style sandwich on artisan bread stuffed with colorful peppers. Knowing that I'm not really a beef type of gal, Savannah pointed to a foil-wrapped grilled chicken sandwich. There were bags of chips, fruit, Ben and Jerry's ice cream, soda, and "christening" water. This was, obviously, the most thrilling moment of our lives.

We procured the perfect seats across from the podium and settled in for the three hour wait. Savannah and Joan wolfed down their sandwiches like it was lunchtime rather than 8 am. The unveiling of my chicken sandwich was a bit of a let-down and I spent the better part of the next hour expressing my displeasure while daintily tipping potato chip crumbs out of the bag directly into my waiting mouth. A Blues Brothers tribute band kept the crowd entertained as we eagerly awaited the arrival of Michelle Obama as well as an impressive number of governors, senators, and congressmen. Joan and

Savannah waited until the stadium seating was filled to capacity before deciding to crawl over thousands of spectators for a second helping of christening cuisine. As this trip benefited me, I withheld judgment.

Soon enough, the one hundred thirty-three membered crew of the USS Illinois assembled on top of the sub and stood at attention for the next hour and a half as each programmed guest made remarks. Any illusions that I would be plucked from obscurity out of the crowd to join Michelle Obama as she prepared to break a bottle over the bow were quickly cast aside. This was not Marineland. I would not be kissing a whale or holding Michelle Obama's purse. I was, however, completely swept up in the patriotism of the moment. Aware of the dedicated service and sacrifice of the one hundred thirty-three men assembled aboard that vessel. I was aware of the blue sky, the rustling of the giant flag, the gentle movement of the water and the one hundred thirty-three motionless men who stood, at attention, for over an hour, on the ship that would be their home for

an indeterminate amount of time. The speakers were gracious and appreciative. The spectators were attentive and respectful. The food was fabulous. But finally, the moment that everyone was waiting for arrived. Michelle Obama earned a collective chuckle from the crowd as she adopted a batter's stance and choked up on the stem of the bottle, offering a practice swing. What's that saying? If it were easy...everyone would do it? One...two...three times the charm and the USS Illinois was officially christened.  The crowd cheered. The First Lady beamed and turned victoriously to her admiring fans to wave where I captured my favorite photo of the day as my friend Joan delightedly waved back.

We ALL waved back and I realized that this wasn't about politics and policies; it was about patriotic pride and national service. I love my country EVERY day but I especially loved it today. God bless the travels of the USS Illinois and God bless this incredible country of ours.