Call me un-astute, if you will, but I was sitting in my car eating my lunch at Taco Bell on Monday, February 9, as I often do. Rather than doing my typical reading as I lunched, however, I was listening to President Obama discuss his economic stimulus plan with my friends and neighbors here in Elkhart. How exciting it is, I thought, that Obama is here speaking, just a mile or two up the road from where I am eating my lunch.

Several of my friends had gotten tickets and were, I knew, in the audience, as I had been when Obama spoke here as a candidate last spring. But I hadn’t gotten a ticket for this event and so contented myself with listening to the radio broadcast of his address to our economically ravaged city.

As I listened, I noted the strategic placement of three squad cars in the vicinity, a stretch of highway harboring fast food places, cell phone and auto parts shops and, a bit down the road, a shopping mall. Then, as time wore on, a few more squad cars parked here and there, and orange cones began to appear, blocking off the driveways of those small businesses that were closed and would not be needing to be accessed.

I noticed, too, that the usually not-that-crowded Taco Bell parking lot was filling up with people who were not getting out of their cars; not going into the restaurant.

Hmmm, I thought as I watched a middle aged couple across the road get out of their car and stand on the edge of the highway. Hmmm, I thought again as the lawn in front of me began to sprout people like a snowy yard sprouts early spring flowers. Maybe this is the route Obama will be taking out of town. Duh!

Obama was finishing the question/answer phase of his address when I got out of my car and somewhat self-consciously joined those who were already waiting for the briefest glimpse of the president and his motorcade.

It was cold. The wind was sharp and icy and we were dancing around, many of us, lulled by yesterday’s relatively mild temperatures into lighter dress than today’s temperatures dictated.

We waited a long time. When helicopters began to periodically fly overhead, my excitement peaked, and what did I want to do but call Evan on my cell phone and give him a blow by blow account of everything that was, and was not yet, happening?

Didn’t I just preach about that – about staying in the moment rather than diluting it by frantically calling or texting loved ones to share whatever exciting event is taking place as it happens? Did I not just preach about that?!

Once again I am chagrined.

I resisted the urge to call Evan, having called him just before exiting my car anyway, and instead made limited small talk with others who were present.

Suddenly, as one, the overhead lights of the by now, many, squad cars flashed on, and the police officers pulled their cars into positions which effectively blocked all of us in. The excitement mounted as those police officers who were on foot went about moving us back from the edges of the road. We were not a rowdy bunch, and quickly complied.

Then we waited some more, periodically craning our necks to try to catch the first glimpse of the motorcade, or to watch another helicopter pass by overhead, or to observe those quiet clusters of people and individuals unknown to us, with whom we were sharing this very unusual occasion.

Eventually, all traffic was halted on the four-lane highway. The road was cleared and empty and the quiet groups of people became quieter.

Then it came -- several black cars with dark-tinted windows, preceded and followed by an interesting array of vehicles, including what appeared to be an armored truck and an ambulance, and a number of cars with flashing lights.

I assumed that Obama was in one of the two dark cars with tinted windows, and so, for three or four seconds I jumped up and down, wildly waving my arms and cheering as both cars passed by. I heard others nearby doing the same, each of us alone, for those few seconds, with the president; each of us alone, trying to communicate in those brief seconds, all of the emotion that had been building in chests suddenly grown full and throats grown tight with the hope, both personal and universal, for which Barack Obama stands.

After the two black cars had passed by, we stopped, and watched the rest of the motorcade fly past.

Twenty seconds after it started, it was all over.

We shrugged, smiled at one another, and returned to our cars to go home.