CAPITOL CITY CHAOS Part 2: "Alice? Alice?"

Our visit to the nation’s capitol continued on Friday. While waiting for Kup to get back from work, Kris and I visited a local greasy-spoon. Normally, there’s not much to tell about a diner visit, but this place was special. First, within about six minutes, I firmly established a case of “the drops” for the day, as successively knocked over my glass of water, and dropped all my silverware to the floor. The ESL busboys at the place were particularly fascinating, especially when Kris requested a towel to help clean up my mess, and was handed an ash tray.

Say it with me, friends, “towel.”

Now, try, “ash tray.”

It’s an easy mistake to make, I would say.

Being south of the Mason-Dixon, I seized the opportunity to have some scrapple with my eggs. The scrapple, in turn, seized the opportunity to take control of my colon for the next five days. The worst part was that the scrapple was in a sort of gross/un-tasty patty form. Truly not the scrapple-goodness I remembered from my “pledges are cooking us breakfast” days at the Big Dick. The lesson, as always, is “don’t eat scrapple.”

Things turned around quickly, though, as Pizz, Kup and I ventured into the mallular area, and took in some monuments. Things had changed mightily since my last trip to DC, sometime back in the mid-nineties on a family vacation. Here’s my unadulterated, but thoroughly abridged views:

Jefferson Memorial: It was closed when I was there as a kid, so this was my first time. Architecturally, it’s my hands-down favourite. I like the simplicity of design inside, as well. Then genius of the man’s writings can’t be debated (though his prognostication skills leave something to be desired). A truly beautiful monument. Probably my favourite.

WWII Memorial: Oh, how I loved the epic scope-meets-grandiose simplicity of this newest of memorials. Though the fountains were not running, the incredible bronze eagles with victory wreathes more than made up for it. My favourite aspect of the memorial was the arrangement of state/territory names on the columns making up the monuments perimeter. I figured out that they were arranged in order of statehood, which was an important change from the expected alphabetical order. Because I had to search for Pennyslvania, I was really hit by the extensiveness of our union, something that I think would have been lost had I just said, “Okay..let’s look in the middle.. M… N… Ohio…ah! Pennsylvania!” It’s the subconscious subtext that hit me most. Also, the way the whole thing is sunk into the ground creates an optical illusion from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. It looks as though the pillars surround the Washington Phallus of Democracy, which serves as a beautiful link between the Monument and the reflecting pool. It also underscores the importance of the War, by placing it in line with two of the nation’s most important men, and the Capitol.

Vietnam Memorial: There’s not much that can be said about this monument that’s anything new. It’s a triumphant, powerful exercise in simplicity. It’s impossible to look at the wall, and not be overwhelmed by the sheer number of names.

Lincoln Memorial: Like Jefferson’s, the simplicity of design and selection of inscribed words makes this memorial what it is: classic and beautiful.

Korean War Memorial: The “forgotten war’s” memorial has a power to it that is extraordinary. Walking along the reflecting pool, you can see the gigantic troops marching, frozen in time to your left. Upon reaching the memorial, the sculptures are so life-like and captivating that you start to think about what they’re saying to one another, or where they’re going, or if they’re all about to be ambushed. I was hit with the uncertainty that must surround every moment of a soldier’s life, it was a palpable feeling of wariness mixed with camaraderie. Truly, all you had was your gun, the men around you, and your life. Your life in their hands, their lives in yours. That’s a bigger responsibility than I think I can fathom, and it gave me an increased respect for everything ever soldier has gone through. In this way, the memorial for the forgotten warriors of Korea truly becomes a memorial for every warrior of America. The men have not changed, only the uniforms and equipment. Just an amazing experience.

FDR Memorial: I remember that this was being built when I last visited the mall. I was initially mixed about the expansiveness and openness of the memorial. However, after walking through the entire memorial, and reading the myriad of quotes, and getting a feel for exactly how much FDR lead this country through, I can’t help but recognize his incredible importance to all of us—something I think the short 50 years of history since his life has been able to truly reflect upon. And that’s why the expansiveness of the memorial is so important, it makes you realize not only how long he lead us, but how greatly. I’ve been told it’s even more captivating at night, and would love to visit it in the dark sometime.

We also visited the American History Museum, and saw cool stuff like Kermit the Frog and The Fonz’s jacket. Oh, and Rebecca Lobo’s basketball jersey. I didn’t really dig the inclusion of her USA basketball jersey with such other iconic American items. Not that it was sports-related, but that it just feels forced. Seriously, the number of Americans who follow Women’s basketball is miniscule, and the number that know “Rebecca Lobo” perhaps only slightly larger. I’m not trying to diminish or knock on women’s sports, I’m just saying that the inclusion of her Olympic jersey just felt like blatant PC-ness. Which is something I don’t want from my museums.

The rest of the museum was fantastic (though we admitted rushed through it). There were some WWII photos that included live shots from Omaha Beach. That is a moment in time I simply cannot comprehend the scope of. How anyone ever survived that invasion is beyond my ability to fathom, truly.

We were able to see the “Price of Freedom” exhibit, which took us through every American war. The collection of equipment and uniforms was mind-boggling, and nothing can compare to the feeling I got from being inches away from an actual George Washinton Colonial Army uniform. Admiring the towering uniform, and reading descriptions of our first president, I had my first real appreciation for his power, athleticism, and imposing character. I always thought of him as a meek-looking, humble, wig-wearing president-guy. Not as a War General. This truly changed everything for me. And that’s the beauty of the Smithsonian.

After taking in the sites, we dined, as is our Knor/Kup/Pizz custom, at Outback and then headed to the bars with A-Wal, where much libation occurred. Highlighting the festivities at the local Irish Pub were two awesome guys playing acoustic and singing everything from Irish Drinking songs like ever immortal, “Alice? Alice? WHO THE F*CK IS ALICE?” to contemporary fantasticness like “Ring of Fire” and “Brown-Eyed Girl” great. GREAT times. We headed back to the hacienda for a little asshole, and some random shenanigans. It was truly a day to remember.

That’s all I got for now—stay tuned for the report on Saturday, where you can learn about how Kris has a more random scope of knowledge than I, and how he can communicate with Ethiopian bushmen.

In the meantime, be good to each other.

And if my next post is delayed, have a safe and Happy Easter, all you crazy Christians!

-apk