Our Nation's Capitol

WHERE ARE ALL THE AMERICAN'S?

What better way to celebrate our nation's birthday than by spending it in our nation's capitol. I have not been to Washington, DC since the third grade and all I can really remember from that trip was that my sister discovered for the first time her own unique body odor and succumbing to the realization that from this point forward she would forever need to apply Lady Speedstick to her help combat this new aroma. It is tough to believe that I forget about all the rich history and tradition that the city has to offer and how utterly impressive the overall design and layout of the city plan invokes on those that attempt to challenge it. My goal for the day was to visit the highlights of the city, without acting too much like a typical tourist. In true form, I tried to blend in as much as possible, so as not to appear as a first-time visitor.

I was staying in Arlington, VA, just outside the District of Columbia line and mere minutes from my eventual destination, the National Mall. For those that have not visited DC or the National Mall before, it is not an actual mall - one outfitted with JC Penny's, Macy's and Spencer Gifts - but a collection of monuments and museums all highlighting some of America's most historic moments. It is a place were the fabric of this great country was woven and one that installs a sense of patriotism and pride in one's country unlike any other place.

I took the "M" (metro) from the Clarendon Station to the Smithsonian Station on the orange line. It had been nearly ten years since I last rode a subway from NJ to NYC and more than seven years since I had ridden a train. For me the trip brought back memories of my trip to Europe in which I would frequently train hop from Rome to Prague and from Munich to Paris. I truly believe that train/subway travel is our most efficient way to get from point A to point B and one of the greatest ways to experience a culture; spending hours in a speeding holding cell, traveling underground, in the dark - you can't help but take it all in.

The Smithsonian Station drops you one block from the center of the mall making you decide whether to visit the Lincoln Memorial or the Capital building first. I chose the Lincoln Memorial because it was seemingly closer and was surrounded by several other interesting exhibits. Like Vegas, everything looks closer than it is; a mirage that reeks havoc on the unfit looking to walk the full distance. As you travel from one monument to the next along the long concrete sidewalks you are barraged with conversations in every different language and constantly violated by the heated and uncomfortable interactions amongst families fried by a mixture of fatigue from attempting to walk the distance of the mall, the relentless humidity of the DC weather and the constant gauging of vendors peddling $10 chicken fingers and $5 waters. It would be enough to drive anyone to the point of a full mental breakdown and I can only imagine myself in a few years when I return with my family in tow. Hopefully we can fall within the minority and enjoy our visit to the capitol.

(The Lincoln Memorial)

After roughly a mile of walking I reached the Lincoln Memorial where I went elbow to elbow with 2,000 of my closest photo seeking buddies all looking to document the moment with a self portrait in front of honest Abe. One of the advantages of being tall is having the distinct pleasure of being able to photograph over the heads of those below me and capture the moment no matter how crowded it is.

Although Lincoln is the feature at his name sakes monument, the most coveted photo from this location is capturing the Washington Monument in the palm of your hand. Every donkey and their brother is directing their subjects to properly align themselves to place the monument into either their outstretched palm or in some other unique manner, some too vulgar and repulsive to describe. My favorite was a mother-daughter duo who stole nearly five minutes of a strangers life away as they tried to perfectly position themselves to have one hand on top and one of the bottom of the granite statue. A photo that took nearly 20 attempts to master before they released their amateur photographer without as much as a "Thank You" (for the record - they were French).

The remaining hours of the day included a trip to the World War II Memorial, Vietnam Memorial, three museums (American History, Natural History & Air and Space) and an outdoor festival held by the Smithsonian to honor three distinctly different cultures - Peruvian, Welsh and African-American. If you so desired you could dine on plantains, fishhead stew and peach cobbler all in the same bite - although I doubt anyone tried it.

Exhausted from all the walking, I jumped the orange line and returned back to my Arlington abode where I risked staff infection or some other parasitic hitch-hiker be venturing into the shower at 301 Ivy. I have never been so reluctant to take a shower in my life - and this coming from a guy that has actually showered at a truck stop. Honestly, I think I came out dirtier than when I went in...

Until Tomorrow