From the clear skies and crisp suits to chilly air and glamorous gowns, President Bush’s second inauguration was a buoyant celebration. It was a time to celebrate freedom, but as the afternoon gave way to evening, it was also time to raise a glass (or several) to a political victory.

At the three-floor ESPN Zone restaurant near Pennsylvania Avenue, a band of New Yorkers gathered for a parade-watching party hosted by Governor Pataki. Though the parade itself wasn’t visible to the partyers, the assembled Republican activists, supporters, and friends – a crowd that included Alfonse D’Amato ensconced in a VIP room – watched the swearing-in and parade on dozens of television screens.

After listening to President Bush’s comments, Daniel Michnick of Buffalo felt especially proud of his work in Western New York on the party’s behalf: “Bush spoke from the heart. He has convictions.”

The Pataki event – accessible with the coveted “Pataki Pass” – was similar to the governor’s convention-week events; it was loaded with tasty morsels and open bars. But the early-afternoon crowd – many having come directly from the swearing-in ceremony – was relaxed, sober (in the emotional sense), and happy to be out of the cold. The all-important consuming question being: What parties are you going to?

For many New York Republicans, the destination was the Stars and Stripes Ball (for New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania) at the Washington Convention Center, where the president and first lady were to make an appearance. For others, it was the ball thrown by the Committee on Western Civilization – sponsored by Americans for Tax Reform and the Heritage Foundation, among others. There was also the possibility of partying with celebrities at the Creative Coalition’s Ball After the Balls.

While New York parties are judged on the mix of elegance and celebrity, Washington inaugural parties seem to be judged only on quantity. Not in terms of food and drink, but people. The events seemed to be a quest to find out just how large a heaving, gown-ruining throng of humanity can be crammed into one ballroom? Consider it this way: These parties could make the 5 train at 5:30 p.m. feel like an open meadow.

Those invited to the Stars and Stripes ball or any of the official balls in the Washington Convention Center had to cool their already cold heels in a line of hundreds of people (though it was moving fast. One young Republican, Matthew Gerred from California, wasn’t at all deterred by the low temperatures of the wait. “I was inspired today by the celebration of what America stands for.” He had patriotism to keep him warm.

Those attending A Salute to Freedom could bypass the crowds because the City Museum of Washington was outside of the area closed off for the inauguration. Early attendees milled about outside, including Hugh Greentree, a lawyer from Ohio who was eager to attend this gathering of conservative types for professional and social reasons. “I know a bunch of people who will be here. It’s a good networking opportunity.” Behind him, friends greeted each other jokingly, saying, “This must be the right-wing conspiracy ball!”

The event draws from mainly a “movement conservative” crowd and Beltway insiders. “If you live in Connecticut, you want to go to an official ball and see the president dance with his wife,” said the president of Americans for Tax Reform, Grover Norquist. “If you live in D.C. for 20 years and hope to see more Republican administrations, you want to have a fun inaugural ball to go to. One that’s not a chore.”

This was no chore for the 1,000 smartly dressed attendees. It was not too crowded, though there was some shuffling before the tables of grilled beef, salmon with salsa, and Cuban sandwiches. A pleasant din of conversation kept up with the jazz ensemble. But the chatter was interrupted briefly for a few remarks, including those by the secretary of state of Ohio, Ken Blackwell, who gave a toast to “three elections” and was greeted with a rousing cheer. He was planning on also attending the official ball for Ohio. Likewise, Richard Bagger, senior vice president for government relations at Pfizer, a sponsor, was happy to share in the goodwill that his corporation supported but felt a loyalty to his home state of New Jersey.

Also attending were the president of the National Rifle Association, Kayne Robinson, and the chairman of Citizens Against Higher Taxes, James Broussard, a group that supports “pro-taxpayer candidates.”

William McGurn, the newly appointed head speechwriter for President Bush, put in an appearance as well, as did the general secretary of the Indian-American Republican Counsel, Shayam Menon. But there were also regular people, too. Like Joan Blackstone, who traveled from southeastern Virginia for this event because she supports the organizations that sponsored it.

All in all it was the place for the happy conservatives, confident that they are the party of government.