I got to the National Mall in Washington, D.C. before dawn today with some friends and found a spot near one of the Jumbotrons about halfway between the Washington Monument and the Capitol. Shivering be damned; I wanted to see Barack Obama become President Barack Obama and learn what tone he would set for the new age we find ourselves in.

Four and a half hours later Obama walked out into the weak January sunshine. I noticed how deep the lines are etched around his mouth and on his forehead. For the first time I pegged him closer to fifty than forty. He looked like a man who is bearing his burden heavily. This presidency will devour him, I thought. Just the way it did Lincoln.

I am accustomed to an inauguration speech -- well, any political speech -- that is uplifting and about a better day. Ronald Reagan did that in 1980, when he declared it was "Morning in America" and ushered in our last great political age. Reagan urged us to throw our malaise away and feel good about ourselves again. U.S.A! U.S.A! For years we did just that. Only during the Bush years did a majority notice that something was deeply, deeply off, a wrongness that no amount of shopping or partying would fix.

Today Obama offered a fix, though not an easy one. Our new president talked about "our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the nation for a new age." He intoned that, "in the words of Scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things." This was not a speech meant to make us feel better about ourselves. This was a speech urging us to save our money, help our brothers, do our part. This was a speech about sacrifice.

Obama was our stern father, telling us that our days of taking the family Chevy out for joyrides are over. Papa Obama leaned in and looked us straight in the eye. The message -- Grow up! -- could not have been clearer.

The throngs of people around us only occasionally broke into calls of "O-Ba-Ma! O-Ba-Ma!", but the speechmaker didn't offer many applause lines. This was an address designed to elicit not exultation, but self-examination. He wanted to let us know that things are bad and only getting worse, and to have any chance of making it through as a great nation, it will be all hands on deck.

If historians look back and try to pinpoint when the Me Generation died, I expect they will date it at this speech.

Finally Obama stepped away from the microphone. The cheers ended quickly, even among the African-Americans who had more reasons to celebrate than anyone. People picked up their things, sometimes shaking the hands of the new acquaintances they'd met on the bare lawn, and hobbled off for the subway on numb feet and in a somber mood.

What courage Obama has. He started a presidency not by making us cheer, but by making us think.

Dave Ferris blogs at AYearInNewYork.com".