Isn’t He President Yet? : Television: This viewer has had it up to his eyeballs with all the pre-inauguration hoopla.

Is the inauguration over yet?

If you thought the campaign was long, what about the eternal drum roll building toward this morning’s swearing-in? A “presidential decathlon” is what comic Paula Poundstone called the long-running pre-inaugural pomp on NBC’s “Tonight Show.”

Nearly every time you turned on television in recent days, Bill Clinton was “thinking about tomorrow” in front of the Lincoln Memorial or giving a speech or getting sung to or getting blessed or ringing bells or learning about U.S. history or shaking hands with celebrities or jogging with his entourage.

On Tuesday morning, there again was America’s Egg McMuffin in his sweats.

“And you’re looking at a live shot of Bill Clinton coming back from his morning jog,” said Katie Couric on NBC’s “Today.”

“That’s a familiar sight,” said Harry Smith in Washington about his network’s footage of Clinton jogging, as he and his “CBS This Morning” co-anchor, Paula Zahn, flanked the Capitol in the background. Familiar? Tell us about it.

Or tell us about the winter-coated Clintons and Gores, repeatedly looking like cereal boxes outdoors in their matching square shoulders, while holding hands blissfully. Masterfully deploying their symbols like chess pieces, they rode this photo opportunity for weeks.

TV showed you the conflict in Iraq, too, of course. And the visual juxtaposition

this tale of two cities--has sometimes been striking. In a bit of genius, ABC’s “Nightline” split the screen Monday night, one half showing a brightly lit Washington celebrating the advent of a new President, the other half showing an eerily lit Baghdad whose night skies were crisscrossed by tracer fire from anti-aircraft batteries.

Meanwhile, the pre-inaugural period droned on via television like the drunk on the next bar stool who won’t stop telling you about his mother-in-law. It was like being trapped in a revolving door. It was like hearing Mr. Blackwell recite his “worst dressed” list in an echo chamber. It was a faucet dripping water on your forehead. It was the buzzing fly you can’t swat. It was Super Bowl hype. It was Don Ho singing, “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” It was Tom and Roseanne on their sixth talk show, just getting warmed up.

“When Mr. Clinton arrived at Georgetown University . . . ,” correspondent Susan Spencer was saying on CBS. Stow it. Get this guy into the White House fast, and deadbolt the doors on the outside.

Fireworks, galas, balls. Look around. What’s to celebrate? The last time TV chronicled such high-profile jubilation in Washington, George Bush was about to be sworn in as President. And as we now know, the partying was premature.

Well, there is something to celebrate. That prolific woman of letters, Maya Angelou, was asked to create and read a special poem for this morning’s occasion. “I am excited, intoxicated over the honor,” Angelou told Dan Rather Monday night in her deep, throaty voice. “I have to say something that is honest and to the heart.” That means talking over the heads of half of Congress.

We’re the ones who should be excited. A poet, author, scholar, teacher, dancer and actress, Angelou resonates living, breathing, electrifying theater. Her words and her delivery of them are uniquely meaningful, her sense of drama unsurpassed. She could read the Yellow Pages and touch your heart.

Which means that her three-minute inaugural poem may eclipse Clinton’s inaugural speech. That’s all right, he’s been talking long enough.

CHANCING IT. “Child Who Needs a Chance” was the title of a terrific, award-worthy, four-part news series that aired last month on KCBS-TV Channel 2. From free-lancer Angela Shelley, it profiled four young children living tenuously in harsh, even sometimes dangerous environments. The tone was somewhat hopeful, but not giddily optimistic.

On Sunday night, Channel 2 aired a follow-up about one of the children, a 7-year-old girl sharing a motel room with her older sister and mother, who has no regular source of income. It seems that in response to Shelley’s series, concerned viewers contributed enough money to allow the family to move to better digs.

It was a small triumph, but a heartwarming one. The significance was not only that viewers are ready with cash when the cause is worthy, but also that the series that stirred them was not your typical TV news story. Nor, it should be noted, was it even remotely like anything else the frequently showboating Channel 2 has done in recent years.

In a radical departure from business as usual, no reporter was heard or seen. No voice-over. No heart-massaging, manipulative music. No gimmicks. No self-promotion. Instead, Shelley relied on natural sound while letting the kids--each of whom was chronicled for a 24-hour period--tell their own stories. They did so with remarkable honesty, and the results were quietly profound and dramatic. So much so that all those viewers responded.

There’s an important message here, if the hucksters of TV news will only hear it: Newscasts don’t need flashing lights and buzzers to attract viewers, or sappy theatrics to hold their attention and move them. Truthful, guileless reporting by a skilled journalist will suffice, thank you. Shelley affirmed that and, one hopes, she’ll have the opportunity to do it again.

Honest and to the heart. It works every time.