For some reason the interior of the Metro made me think of space travel. Not just any space travel though, 1960's space travel. The shape of the cars was mostly sleek, the inside was well lit, and somehow there was a futuristic feel in the atmosphere. Why do I apply the description, 1960's space travel? I suppose it was the color of the seats and carpet that brought forth a retro tingling. The seats, which were made of a vinyl material, were blue, red, and yellow, but not just any blue, red, and yellow. The colors were faded, or were they? Their hue made me think of the inside of my Grandfather Bolte's living room which contained an ancient and enormous 8 track player. Perhaps "faded" is an inappropriate term. I will choose to utilize "that of the 60's" in the place of "faded". So, the seats which were saturated in colors that were that of the 60's were complimented by the carpeted Metro floor which was maroon which flecks of blue that were both, of course, that of the 60's. Is this same mindset provoked in any other traveler's brain? I would doubt it. Does any of this really matter? Absolutely not.
My eyes wandered from the advertisements posted inside the car in which I was seated to the outer realm of the Metro Green Line and I watched as the buildings flickered past. We descended slightly, entered a tunnel, and continued to clack-clack our way toward Washington, D.C.
I was with a group of Army friends, some stationed at Fort Meade, others simply visiting like myself. We began our astronautical journey at the Navy Memorial just North of the Mall. The Navy Memorial is something of a plaza with a large stone depiction of the the Earth's surface lying off camber in the ground. Everyone in the group stood on the relative location of their respective homes and took a moment to reflect on that which they were away from.
Our next stop was the National Archives. Our tourist timing was perfect that morning and so was the weather. Where one would normally find a snaking line of human beings leading to the chamber containing the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution we found a short pygmy snake of a line of other early risers. We passed through a security checkpoint and proceeded to the documents. I first looked upon the Constitution, the founding document of American life, life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Next, I gazed at a terribly faded Declaration of Independence barely able to witness the most famous of John Hancock's, John Hancock's signature. We did not stay long and were eventually paraded into a gift shop of false Constitutions and Declarations as well as other prettily plastic trinkets purely in stock for the distraction of your eager child who was mostly bored with standing in line to see some raggedy scrap of paper.
Back outside things were heating up. I began removing layers of jacket so that I could enjoy the wonderful 60 degree Spring weather. We strolled West along the Mall past numerous museums and exhibits to include the Smithsonian. We were focusing on those memorials that could be found outside under the sun, knowing full well that a person could get lost for days in places like the American History Museum or the National Gallery of Art.
We walked for what felt like miles towards the shining white of the Washington Monument with the Capitol Building looming at our backs. When we arrived we discovered that the day's elevator tickets had already been distributed and there wasn't a chance in hell that we were getting to the top of the pinnacle for a bird's eye view of the downtown area. Instead, we were discarded to the World War II memorial and left to walk across a drained Reflecting Pool to the Lincoln Memorial. At this point Forrest Gump references were polluting the air, everyone describing the sight of Jenny and Forrest splashing into each other's arms near where we were currently walking.
I always thought Jenny was such a bitch to Forrest too.
Standing in the shadow of Lincoln I thought of Wayne's World, fuck Forrest Gump. Remember that part where Wayne says to Garth,
"If she were a president here name would be Baberaham Lincoln."
Anyway...
We then moved on to the newer Vietnam Memorial not without having to endure odd smelling "patch" vendors full of American pride. Across the street from the Mall (generally) lies the house of the President, past and present, the White House. Posted on the roof is a sniper, yin, and posted at the front gate is the small tarp hut of a 24 hour peace protester, yang. The two women manning the tarpaulin hut of peace have been standing, or sitting rather since 1981. It's now 2007. That would be 26 years. Older than me to be honest. Their antics were mildly entertaining.
Continuing our tour of the city our group fell hungry on Chinatown, situated around the Verizon Center, home to the Washington Wizards. We devoured foodstuffs at Fuddruckers, my first time in the establishment. I did not partake in the eats of course, being the cheap bastard I am, I proudly consumed my ham and cheese bagel and cup of chocolate pudding amidst an array of hamburgers and french fries.
After lunch the group split. The majority returned to the Green line and back to their vehicle, but my friend, Chris Rucci, and I continued the adventure by riding the Red Line to the National Zoo, which is free, for cheap bastards.
I find it conveniently intriguing to rediscover how much more interesting aspects of your childhood are when you revisit them as an adult. Instead of, "Mommy! Mommy! Look at the lion.", it is, "That lion is an amazing and beautiful creature and I am lucky to be able to observe it in its caged majesty, stalking back and forth in its lair."
Such are the complexities of the wild kingdom.
Chris and I spent about two hours strolling through the zoo seeing the speedy cheetah, the ugly sloth bear, the intelligent and human orangutan, and the dirty assed, yet lovable Panda Bear. I am thankful for the experience.
We boarded the Metro once again after six hours in the city and clack-clacked our way back to the lonely parking lot where my rented Jeep Cherokee awaited us.
Overall, I enjoyed Washington. It is different from other large cities due largely to the fact that its skyline does not rise above the Capitol Building, stealing away some of the urban feeling. All is not lost. It is still a respectable city in which to live and I, now armed with my tome of apartment finding, will one day find a decent living space in the Nation's Capitol.
If I get to PCS to Fort Meade of course.
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