I caught a matinee of JCVD at The Loft over the weekend. Jean-Claude Van Damme plays himself as an aging action-movie hero who is losing his roles to Steven Seagal and has a variety of legal problems, including a court battle over custody of his daughter. He ends up as a hostage in a bank robbery during a visit home to Belgium. Hijinks ensue.

I'm not a huge Van Damme fan, though I vaguely remember enjoying Timecop. Nonetheless, I'd recommend JCVD. It's clever and a lot of fun.

The special edition Obama metro card.

"I have a surprise for you."

These were the words my brother, Greg, said to me and my other brother, Todd, as we prepared to step into the overcast, 18-degree D.C. morning on Saturday. We were standing in the entryway of the house Greg shares with three other roommates. We had arrived at midnight and crashed on the futons in his living room before waking up, eager to embark on our Inaugural adventure.

He handed both of us official-looking white envelopes, each one proudly proclaiming, "$10.00 Inauguration."

My life briefly flashed before my eyes. Every lottery-ticket moment of my life suddenly disappeared: Tickets to the most historic presidential inauguration of our lifetime had left all those experiences in the dust.

Greg immediately recognized the looks on our faces.

"Oh, no, it's not that," he said.

Confused, I looked closer at the envelope, this time recognizing the word "Metro"--referring to D.C.'s clean, efficient mass-transit rail system. Clinging to a faint hope, I made a feeble reference to the Obama Express that would soon be making its way by rail from Philadelphia to D.C.'s Union Station. Had he somehow secured tickets to that historic train ride?

"Look," he said excitedly, opening one of the envelopes, "It's a special-edition Obama metro card!"

After recovering from my brief bout with raised expectations, I had to admit it was pretty cool. By the time the rest of the civilized world arrives in Washington today, you won't be able to get these mementos of history. Greg even put $10 of train fare on each card--and got one for my girlfriend, Rosie, who will be joining us around midnight tonight.

To be honest, we've all come to this 44th presidential inauguration with lowered expectations, knowing full well that we'll be among the estimated 2 to 4 million competing for even a glimpse of a man who represents a defining moment in our country's history.

We are content that we are witnesses to the witnesses of history. We have contented ourselves with having our Obama moments through the shrieks and cheers of those in front of us.

We froze for pictures and defrosted in the pub.

We went down to the National Mall on Saturday so we could get our only up-close look at the setup for the swearing-in. A college basketball game between Butler and Illinois-Chicago was playing on a jumbotron at the steps of the Capitol Building as workers scurried around, making preparations. It seemed appropriate.

As we defrosted frozen toes and fingers at a nearby Irish pub where one of Greg's roommates works, tipping a traditional Fitzpatrick brothers toast of a pint of Smithwick's and a shot of Jameson's, we learned that the Obama Express would be pulling into Union Station--just two blocks from where we were drinking.

We had a brief debate about the merits of staying at the pub (where it was warm and likely to get warmer if we continued drinking) versus fighting thousands of people for a glimpse of the new First Family at the train station.

We decided we hadn't come all this way to sit in a pub and watch TV, so we waded into a sea of humanity to attempt our brush with greatness. After jockeying for position for a few hours at various exits (it helps to have a brother who knows Union Station), we received the disappointing news that the train had arrived, and the Obama party had been rushed through a side exit and into a waiting motorcade.

False alarm at Union Station. 

We streamed out of Union Station with thousands of others and suddenly heard hundreds of people screaming ahead of us. We rushed toward the excitement and heard sirens and saw flashing lights fading in the distance.

The motorcade had just roared past the pub where we had been drinking.

Since that moment, I've decided that if my Obama moment is meant to happen, it will happen. I'll be happy to just be part of the excitement.

As I write this, sitting in front of my brother's living-room window, my concentration is broken by an odd, distinctive siren. The street is suddenly empty, and then three motorcycle cops roar past the window, followed by an assortment of police vehicles, black SUVs and a distinctive black limousine. An ambulance takes up the rear.

The whole thing takes less than 10 seconds. I don't have time to grab my iPhone or the Flip video camera in the jacket next to me. The ruckus wakes up my brother, Todd, who is asleep on the other futon.

President-elect Obama is headed to a nearby school to help with some painting. Without crowds lining the street, sitting quietly inside, I feel I've been a solitary witness to history.

Now it's time for my brothers and I to head out--we're running late to help clear brush at Washington International School.

The scene outside my brother's living room window - moments too late. 

What was Michael Bloomberg thinking? He should of said, "But first, for those comforted by someone speaking Spanish with a terrible accent, here ya go." Early campaign strategy?

The Tucson Citizen is reporting that its days may be numbered:

Gannett Company, Inc., announced Friday that it is putting the Tucson Citizen up for sale and that if no "viable" buyer is found, the paper will cease publication March 21.

The paper has been in publication since 1870.

The announcement was made by Robert J. Dickey, president of Gannett's U.S. Community Publishing division, in the Citizen's newsroom. Dickey said he travelled from Virginia to personally make the announcement.

In a letter to Citizen employees, Dickey said the decision to sell the paper was made because of "dramatic changes in our industry and the difficult economy."

Well, if Mari is going to mourn Ricardo, I'll have to note the passing of Patrick McGoohan, who had numerous notable roles. The one that will always stick in my mind, though, is his turn as the indomitable Number 6, kidnapped away to the Village in the way-out series The Prisoner. McGoohan not only starred but also played a big role behind the scenes in crafting the series, which blew my young mind when I first watched it. McGoohan's message of individuality and authenticity was powerful stuff, especially when it was first broadcast. And the Rover was pretty damn cool, too.

If you've never seen it, you're in luck; AMC is streaming the original episodes as it prepares to show a remake later this year.

One of these days, I'd love to get to the Hotel Portmeirion.

You'd only ever want to hear the words "soft Corinthian leather" from actor Ricardo Montalban. R.I.P.

Daniel Scarpinato of the morning daily tells us that business leaders who visited the Capitol yesterday had one big request for state lawmakers: Cut the state property tax permanently.

The tax, which was suspended for three years as part of a bad budget deal cut between Gov. Janet Napolitano and Republican lawmakers, is set to return this year. You might think, given that the state is facing a shortfall of somewhere around $3 billion (if you count this year and the upcoming fiscal year), that the state could use another $250 million, which is what the tax would bring in.

But the GOP majority is convinced that by cutting the tax (which, by the way, costs the average homeowner less than $10 a month), they'll stimulate the economy. Sure. And that's why, after suspending the property tax and cutting income taxes by $500 million three years ago, the economy is performing so well. Oh, wait--we're on the verge of the greatest economic crisis since the Great Depression.

Is it possible that cutting taxes doesn't automatically spur the economy? Is it possible that raising taxes--strategically--can help the economy? It seems like the tax increases of the early 1990s put the United States on the path to a booming economy that left the federal government with a surplus (which was, of course, squandered by the Bush tax cuts, but I digress.)

At any rate, all the arguments in the world won't make a difference with this legislature. Tax cuts are an article of faith with them.

The new Weekly--the Obama Issue, largely penned by you, the readers--is online and ready for your perusal. Feel free to comment on its contents here.

I've blogged about Erik Ryberg's Tucson Bike Lawyer blog, which is a good resource for true local bicycling enthusiasts who care about everything from local transportation policies to safety issues facing local bicyclists.

But I want to call attention to a trip Erik took recently to Mexico City. If you follow his Mexico City entries, a true adventure unfolds about his attempts to obtain a certain kind of bike he sees used to deliver blocks of ice all over the city. But Ryberg, ever the activist, has some wonderful observations to share on how progressive Mexico City is regarding bicyclists.