Nero fiddled while Rome burned. To contemporize the saying, Trump played ringmaster while the splendor of Los Angeles smoldered. The day was bright, sunny and cold as a new president was inaugurated “indoors,” away from the biting chill and revealing sunlight.

It was an all-day parade, an event right out of Ringling Brothers or a Cecil B. DeMille spectacular, except there were no animals, just a bunch of performers led by the ringmaster, President Donald J. Trump. He was surrounded by family, friends, loyalists, sycophants and bystanders, such as his vice president, JD Vance, with flocks of worshipers waiting in the wings for a blessing later in the day.

We were treated to an array of bands, a pretentious baritone, a brave country singer, children popping up and down, awkward past presidents, some with mates, some without, all looking uncomfortable. The group included President Bush (stiff), President Obama (pretentious), President Clinton (confused) and Hillary Clinton (stern). They should have been assigned speaking roles to play in this all-day production.

Well, why not? The entire Trump family was provided with characterizations, beginning with our first lady, at attention in her military outfit, replete with a wide-brimmed hat covering her eyes; very smart, I thought. Then there was the strange-looking Barron in a peculiar black suit, resembling Bela Lugosi with a sly look. There was a bevy of young, very attractive women with long blonde, tasseled hair and expensive outfits appearing to be Trump attendants.

I can’t say how many times our new president and his first lady walked from one place to another, but I do know they were in constant motion. It started with their arrival for tea. Then it was on to the swearing-in, to what seemed to be a private chamber, then outside to send the Bidens off to wonderland. After awkward hugging and cheek kissing (women only), they turned around for the same breezy walk back to headquarters with the first lady desperately holding on to her bonnet. Then it was time to stand at attention in what looked like a makeshift hangar, before being walked up and down a maze of corridors to the next event.

As I recall, it was the vice president who accompanied the president to that secondary area where people who were not able or invited to the swearing-in were held. It was here that our new president felt free to express his feelings more, to a “younger” and more “understanding” group. It was sort of a free-for-all atmosphere, when I reflect on it. Our president was more carefree with his opinions.

Finally, everyone was in the Capital One Arena to witness the immense parade scene.

The entire day was a staged vaudeville show, one performance after another, set up each time to introduce our new president and first lady: “Ladies and gentlemen, our 47th president,” etc., followed by an obvious pause before they were presented. This had nothing on Beckett or Pinter.

I’ll skip to the evening show, where again we waited and waited for the entrance of our honored husband and his stylish wife. They danced somewhat stridently to an inappropriate but patriotic piece of music, then were joined by the VP and his wife. Then, strangely, others came to the floor and everyone changed partners, but not for long before the honored ones slowly left the floor.

Mind you, I stayed put for almost the entire day, wanting to be a part of the ceremony of a new president of our country, and of course not to miss his list of intentions. I am an optimist by nature and sincerely want President Trump to succeed in protecting our country, to secure the borders, lower inflation, increase manufacturing, reduce random shootings, especially with our children in school. If our president can’t protect and provide for us, who can?

I’m grateful to be an American who can still witness an inauguration — and freely express his feelings about an important day.