This year we decided to take the kids on an adventure in civics and extraordinarily large buildings. So we headed to Washington DC and New York City.
First stop: DC.
Unlike our usual family trips, we flew this time (on one of those newfangled areoplanes, no less!) and landed in DC around one in the morning, the early morning not being nearly as bad as I had been dreading. One fitful half-night's sleep later and we were marching to our first stop: the Museum of Natural History (which was a straight shot from the Embassy Suites where we were staying).
The Museum of Natural History was, of course, great and fantastically dominated by evolution (and helpfully cross-promoted for the movie "Night at the Museum 2"! Happy joy), and we zipped along through the exhibits at a fair clip. We had to do this because we had an Official and Important 1:00 Special tour of the National Archives.
In distinctly government fashion, our instructions to begin our tour of the Archives we had to meet at "the Special Events Entrance at the corner of 7th and Constitution. These doors are also marked 'exit.'"
So we met at our exit door rendezvous and, wielding our Official Magic E-Mailed Invite, we were ushered through the metal detectors and security guards who were chatting to each other and sending text messages on their phones. After that we were on our own (this was, as most tours are, self-guided), so we watched the introductory video about the National Archives and then made our way to the main event: the hall with the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.
THIS had a long line (we later figured out we caught the line at the complete wrong time since groups come into the Archives in waves, and since we watched the intro video, we got caught up in the most recent wave - apparently no one in this group watched the video; instead each person rushed to see the Constitution). So we waited and waited while the guards occasionally let a small(ish) group from our line dribble in to see our heritage.
Once we finally got the okay to stroll among the documents (all were sealed, under glass, and under very low lighting), I felt . . . hmmm . . . humbled is a good word . . . to be that close to these faded, yellowed, priceless pieces of paper. Well, humbled that is until I heard a low, southern voice growl behind me as I as looking at the Declaration of Independence: "Well, you can't read nuthin' on that! It's all faded away! They don't take good care of the stuff here. How do ya even know what's on there. It don't make no sense. I keep better care of my stuff at home!"
And that, my friends, that is the smell of an informed democracy.
We walked around the Mall quite awhile after that, first foolishly eating at the Natural History cafe and spending close to the GDP of Italy on two hotdogs, two slices of pizza, and a salad. We pressed on past the Washington Monument, past the WWII Memorial, past the reflecting pool, and on to the Lincoln Memorial, where we took a long break in the shade. After that we walked past the Vietnam Memorial (where Megan placed a lot of wildflowers), and then we headed back to the hotel by way of the White House (where we heard this observation from someone about the White House lawn: "That'd make a damned fine golf course!"). We got back to the hotel just in time for a tremendously explosive hurricane-like thunderstorm that held us prisoner in the lobby and made us late for dinner with some friends.
After dinner we walked around the north entrance of the White House, which is quite beautiful at night (not including the heavily armed soldier cruising the grounds on the other side of the fence). And then, like zombies, we shuffled off to the hotel, Alex on my shoulders for part of the walk.
D.C. was quiet on the walk back. It was ten at night and you could occasionally hear the hush of a car as it ran through the rain soaked streets. The busy tenor of life in the city had changed, and now it moved slowly, not a soul around. This, I gather, is D.C. before a weekend: a city of power in solitude. A cold, vacuous, sleepy place of white stone facades and bundles of homeless lodged in doorways.
But the cameras on every corner are still watching.
[Special note: How to get tours of interesting places in D.C. First you have to get hold of your Congresscritter. I did this through e-mail and was surprised to find out I knew the staffer who wrote back to me (this was due to a web of events that are too flummoxing to get into here). Kala, our friendly representative of our representative set up four different tours for us: The National Archives, The Library of Congress, The Capitol, and The White House. The White House was the most difficult to get. I had to send in my request about six months ahead of time, along with security clearance info. Kala was extraordinarily helpful, and I would attribute that to my high social standing and dapper refinement, but since I lack both those I must give complete credit to her for simply being an outstanding Capitol Hill staffer. I did not know there were such things, so I am pleasantly surprised.]
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