Tall and slender young and fine, the girl from Ipanema goes walking, and as she’s walking the young man watching goes AAAHHH!

Rio! Lord! God! RIO!

Such a land of beauty with a bevy of the most beautiful women, and beautiful people, bewitching in nature, beguiled by the opulence of what God’s creative forces have to offer as it is stricken by the awesomeness of the downtrodden and the hopeless. It is only fitting that it is almost twelve years since my first contemplation of traveling to this place of God’s natural majesty that I now find myself renewed and recharged by her grace and natural mystic.

Faithful readers! How can I begin to share with you the very essence of the feelings I felt this day? Can mere words fully express my most innermost sentiments as I felt my spirit lifted upon the wings of ancestors who hoped, prayed, sacrificed, died, cried and dared to dream so that we and all of our children, and their children's children, might one day know what true freedom can feel like? Am I capable of imparting the images that portrayed so much of what moved Reverend Rick Warren to tears? Or, for that matter, relay how it was to receive the gift of his invocation that was so moving and heartfelt as he seemed to weave in those experiences in a prayerful tome that seemed to recount pivotal aspects of our American experience?

How can I attempt to frame the auditory refrains from our own Queen Mother of Soul, Aretha Franklin, as she returned us to childhood and had two million people swaying to the goldness of her voice in unison and union? Like babes in a cradle we all felt her motherly kiss as she sang "My Country, Tis of Thee." Thank you Queen Mother for giving me that grace filled experience as it soothed my soul and expedited my connection to everyone around me and beyond. She delivered me from the solitude of being one IN two million to becoming one WITH two million.

How can I express the well spring of emotions that I felt as the various luminaries that we have all grown to respect, and dare I say love, took the stage to create the space for President-Elect Obama’s receipt of the mantle of the presidency?

It is my utmost honor to have been allowed to experience the remainder of this day in the company of so many kindred souls of every hue committed to the notion of being further steeped in this outpouring of support and openness to the power of possibility consecrated through a rededication to commitment and a sense of renewal. Those brave souls choosing to bear witness and be a part of this steady moving journey that I have recently dubbed the CHANGE locomotive. I have termed it so, and genuinely resisted the impulse to coin it differently, given the consistent fatherly chidings by our President-Elect to remember that this process will not take place overnight nor without sacrifice.

Yesterday, my traveling companions and I returned to Baltimore to take part in the third station stop of President-Elect Obama's journey. While his War Memorial Address was all the more moving it was further amplified by the thousands of people that braved the bitter cold to receive the message and embrace the fullness of this moment. Yes it is still quite a surreal experience for me to be taking part in all of these activities that are meant to usher in this new era of human development in the continually developing American conversation.

As of this writing, I am being whisked down the New Jersey Turnpike, in a RV, accompanied by two inspired human souls and another inspired soul of the canine persuasion. It is approximately 6:15am.

Similar to the way I felt drawn to be in Denver, for the coronation of a once lone Junior Senator from the Land of Lincoln who is now the President-Elect, I am now experiencing that familiar feeling of the spiritual, that is spiriting me toward Baltimore, Maryland, to witness one of many pre-inaugural events at a train stop enroute to inauguration day. My online sources seem to suggest that there will be a rally at War Memorial Field in Baltimore later this day.

My accompanying hosts are Mr. Stephen Germano, a resident from Linden Long Island (New York) who happens to be a great videographer, and Rick Gunter, a New Jersey resident (formerly of Mount Vernon, New York) who is our resident photographer. Stephen and I met before when he came to cover my interview of another phenomenal Every Day Citizen contributing author’s, Kevin Willmott, a filmmaker, New York City film debut of Bunker Hill. Coming soon to a blog near you!

Casey, Stephen’s beautiful golden retriever, is providing au naturale unconditional love. It is a beautiful brisk wintery day and God is in full glory providing a beautiful sunrise as we pull into the first turnpike gas station for a fill up of the tank to ensure our safe and timely arrival to Maryland.

I consider myself to be a social entrepreneur but that is a recent incarnation given my career path. Not too long ago, I remember sitting in many sundry social events and meetings with a myriad of folks, some were from my varied undergraduate college life experiences and others were more recent, and inevitably a discussion would ensue centering around our various career choices. I would almost always find myself beginning to speak in more cautious, hushed, inaudible and superfluous tones about my employment experiences and choice of career path.

I can also remember not feeling as proud as others about my employment endeavors or rather that I came to them as a result of specious circumstances. I was supposed to pursue legal studies and become the next F. Lee Bailey, Johnnie Cochran or Reginald Lewis. Needless to say, my less than spectacular undergraduate record and countless flights of fantasy (not to mention a lack of discipline) have caused me to reconsider those thoughts for far too long. And now single fatherhood, albeit part time, mandates that I keep my eyes on my dollars in order to make some cents thus ensuring I am able to feed my daughter. Alas... Alas... You see I too am a community organizer.

Until recently, this vocation was one deemed only appropriate for hippie types or none serious people.

It has been well over a week since I first entered the legendary Invesco Field to receive a special message and be baptized in an awesome democracy at work experiment and experience. A message I feel was crafted for my ears alone, and those of my ilk, to illicit the delight and awesome responsibility of what has been bequeathed to those of my generation in legacy.

Many times I have heard those of my generation being referred to as generation X or the me generation. We have been charged as the generation that spawned the crack epidemic. We have been credited with birthing rap music and ushering in hip hop as a world music and cultural phenomenon. Much to the delight and often to the chagrin of others.

As I recall my trip from my harassing hamlet of a home(apt) in Harlem, New York, to Denver, Colorado, I am at once humbled, thankful and moved by all that I have experienced during the week of the Democratic National Convention in the mile high city.