Our last full day in DC we persuaded my sister Alyson and her husband Scott to experience the International Spy Museum. We obtained secret identities, crawled SILENTLY through vents (there was a noise meter inside--and no self-respecting spy would let the level rise to red...keep it in the green, son, keep it in the green), and learned all about the history of spying. Did you know that Mata Hari was actually executed because she was a TERRIBLE spy? And that the James Bond movies often inspired espionage gadgets, and not the other way around?
We visited the house where Lincoln died, across the street from the Ford's Theatre. It took about 5 minutes. It WAS interesting, but short. We tried to see the theater itself, but just missed the time for the last tour.
In the evening we explored the streets of Fairfax in search of our last unique dining experience, and decided on another Irish restaurant. It had an extensive menu, and a Celtic folk band was playing as a way to gear up for Saint Patrick's Day on Tuesday. I had the shepherd's pie, and Jason had the lamb. We discovered Stout cheese, and fell in love. Jason also fell in love with the band (even though they were covering John Denver tunes part of the night), and bought a CD of Irish folk tunes. It was, by far, our favorite dining experience on the trip.
We thoroughly enjoyed our week to the East. Thank you to the Spackmans and the Talbots for letting us crash on their floors and for showing us the sights. It was great to see the Lundeens as well. We ate, we walked we saw. And hopefully in the near future we can do it again!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Washington D.C. (Magnetic Fields)
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby, D.C.!
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby, D.C.!
Washington, D.C.
It's paradise to me
It's not because it is the grand old seat
Of precious freedom and democracy
No, no, no
It's not the greenery turning gold in fall
The scenery circling the Mall
It's just that's where my baby lives
That's all.
Washington D.C.!
It's the greatest place to be
It's not the cherries everywhere in bloom
It's not the way they put folks on the moon
No, no, no
It's not the spectacles and pagaentry
The thousand things you've got to see
It's just that's where my baby waits for me
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby D.C.!
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby D.C.!
Washington, D.C.!
It fits me to a T
It's not the people doing something real
It's not the way the springtime makes you feel
No, no, no
It ain't no famous name on a golden plaque
That keeps me that makes me ride that railroad track
It's my baby's kiss that keeps me coming back
It's my baby's kiss that keeps me coming back
After the Holocaust museum, Jason, Alyson, and I tromped around the Mall area of DC. Jason navigated the area fairly easily as a result of extensive playing of Fallout 3—apparently the developers stayed pretty close to reality of the DC area, with a few minor changes! We grabbed a burger and shake at Ollie’s Trolley restaurant, a joint on a corner near the Treasury straight out of the 40’s. The inside has paneling painted yellow and hung with old-timey memorabilia, and they make your food to order. The burgers are big, fresh and juicy, and the chocolate shakes are made with real chocolate ice cream. They had Benny Goodman looped in the background. It was great.
From there we passed the White House on our way to the Lincoln Memorial. We saw the WWII memorial, and took a picture next to the Idaho pillar (sorry Texas!). There was no water in the Reflection Pool, but we think that’s because it’s winter and it’s still too cold for it. We saw the Korea and Vietnam memorials, and those were very moving, especially since Jason is a soldier and has been to war. It’s striking that in the walls, made of marble, you can see your reflection. You are looking at these names and faces, but you are also looking at yourself, and you realize that you, too, have a part in these wars, in all the conflicts that the US has been and is a part of. And you are also suddenly aware that the soldiers whose names appear on the walls have had an effect in your life; you just didn’t realize it until you saw their names on your face.
We ended at the Jefferson Memorial, a tall bronze statue of the president. From the memorial you can see the Potomac, the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Washington Monument...it was like looking at a summary of our day.
For dinner we took a train to Alexandria to an Irish chipper. We ate fried cod and fries drenched in malt vinegar and dipped in various delicious sauces. We also had a fried Milky Way bar, something I was very skeptical about, but I exercised faith, experimented on the word, and tried one. It tasted like a warm donut wrapped around melted chocolate and caramel. I saw that it was good, my faith was expanded, and I believed. This has been one of our favorite meals on our trip so far.
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby, D.C.!
Washington, D.C.
It's paradise to me
It's not because it is the grand old seat
Of precious freedom and democracy
No, no, no
It's not the greenery turning gold in fall
The scenery circling the Mall
It's just that's where my baby lives
That's all.
Washington D.C.!
It's the greatest place to be
It's not the cherries everywhere in bloom
It's not the way they put folks on the moon
No, no, no
It's not the spectacles and pagaentry
The thousand things you've got to see
It's just that's where my baby waits for me
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby D.C.!
W a-s-h i-n-g t-o-n, baby D.C.!
Washington, D.C.!
It fits me to a T
It's not the people doing something real
It's not the way the springtime makes you feel
No, no, no
It ain't no famous name on a golden plaque
That keeps me that makes me ride that railroad track
It's my baby's kiss that keeps me coming back
It's my baby's kiss that keeps me coming back
After the Holocaust museum, Jason, Alyson, and I tromped around the Mall area of DC. Jason navigated the area fairly easily as a result of extensive playing of Fallout 3—apparently the developers stayed pretty close to reality of the DC area, with a few minor changes! We grabbed a burger and shake at Ollie’s Trolley restaurant, a joint on a corner near the Treasury straight out of the 40’s. The inside has paneling painted yellow and hung with old-timey memorabilia, and they make your food to order. The burgers are big, fresh and juicy, and the chocolate shakes are made with real chocolate ice cream. They had Benny Goodman looped in the background. It was great.
From there we passed the White House on our way to the Lincoln Memorial. We saw the WWII memorial, and took a picture next to the Idaho pillar (sorry Texas!). There was no water in the Reflection Pool, but we think that’s because it’s winter and it’s still too cold for it. We saw the Korea and Vietnam memorials, and those were very moving, especially since Jason is a soldier and has been to war. It’s striking that in the walls, made of marble, you can see your reflection. You are looking at these names and faces, but you are also looking at yourself, and you realize that you, too, have a part in these wars, in all the conflicts that the US has been and is a part of. And you are also suddenly aware that the soldiers whose names appear on the walls have had an effect in your life; you just didn’t realize it until you saw their names on your face.
We ended at the Jefferson Memorial, a tall bronze statue of the president. From the memorial you can see the Potomac, the White House, the Lincoln Memorial, and the Washington Monument...it was like looking at a summary of our day.
For dinner we took a train to Alexandria to an Irish chipper. We ate fried cod and fries drenched in malt vinegar and dipped in various delicious sauces. We also had a fried Milky Way bar, something I was very skeptical about, but I exercised faith, experimented on the word, and tried one. It tasted like a warm donut wrapped around melted chocolate and caramel. I saw that it was good, my faith was expanded, and I believed. This has been one of our favorite meals on our trip so far.
Friday, March 13, 2009
This Train Revised (Indigo Girls)
Our first destination in DC was the Holocaust Museum. Of course it was remarkable, wrenching and overwhelming.
We arrived just in time for a series the museum is presenting until October called First Accounts, which is presented on Wednesdays. A Jewish Holocaust survivor, ... , told the story of her life in Belgium, her efforts with the underground resistance, and her experience in Auschwitz and a later death march. That she survived was incredible. That she was reunited with her husband and daughter after the war is miraculous. To hear her, you knew that she had told that story many, many times. But you also knew that it was important for her to tell her story over and over—she wouldn’t leave out any detail. It seemed that telling her story validated it, and validated the fact that she was human and had been victimized, and that the victimization was terribly wrong. So many times she explained that the persecution and brutalization of the Jews in Europe was a result of systematic dehumanization on the part of the controlling political powers. The details of her life and those she knew seemed to reinforce for her that each of their lives have value, preventing her from succumbing to the ideology that facilitated the systematic elimination of an entire race. It seemed like telling her story helped her stave off a depression that resulted in a true feeling of worthlessness, because who could do this to another human being?
We walked around the museum after the presentation, and it was moving and terrible. To see the persecution, the ghettos, the cattle cars, the work camps, the gas chambers. The most moving part for me was the children’s art work towards the end. There were pictures that children had made while in the ghettos of their pre-war memories and their current experiences. I was ashamed that the US turned a blind eye for so long, that other countries did, too. That anyone could now deny that these atrocities occurred is unconscionable.
At the end is the eternal flame, dedicated to all those who sacrificed something in the Holocaust. On one of the walls above it was inscribed Deuteronomy 30:19:" I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and acursing: therefore bchoose life, that both thou and thy seed may live..."
We arrived just in time for a series the museum is presenting until October called First Accounts, which is presented on Wednesdays. A Jewish Holocaust survivor, ... , told the story of her life in Belgium, her efforts with the underground resistance, and her experience in Auschwitz and a later death march. That she survived was incredible. That she was reunited with her husband and daughter after the war is miraculous. To hear her, you knew that she had told that story many, many times. But you also knew that it was important for her to tell her story over and over—she wouldn’t leave out any detail. It seemed that telling her story validated it, and validated the fact that she was human and had been victimized, and that the victimization was terribly wrong. So many times she explained that the persecution and brutalization of the Jews in Europe was a result of systematic dehumanization on the part of the controlling political powers. The details of her life and those she knew seemed to reinforce for her that each of their lives have value, preventing her from succumbing to the ideology that facilitated the systematic elimination of an entire race. It seemed like telling her story helped her stave off a depression that resulted in a true feeling of worthlessness, because who could do this to another human being?
We walked around the museum after the presentation, and it was moving and terrible. To see the persecution, the ghettos, the cattle cars, the work camps, the gas chambers. The most moving part for me was the children’s art work towards the end. There were pictures that children had made while in the ghettos of their pre-war memories and their current experiences. I was ashamed that the US turned a blind eye for so long, that other countries did, too. That anyone could now deny that these atrocities occurred is unconscionable.
At the end is the eternal flame, dedicated to all those who sacrificed something in the Holocaust. On one of the walls above it was inscribed Deuteronomy 30:19:" I call heaven and earth to record this day against you, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and acursing: therefore bchoose life, that both thou and thy seed may live..."
New York, New York (Ryan Adams)
"And love won't play any games with me
Anymore if you don't want it to
The world won't wait and I watched you shake
But honey, I don't blame you
Hell, I still love you, New York
Hell, I still love you, New York
New York"
Monday we made our way back to the city for more sightseeing. We perused the Museum of Natural History, spending most of our time in the Peoples of Latin America. I wished they’d had more on the Mapuche tribes and traditions of Chile, but they had a good deal about Mexico and the Amazon.
When we left, Jason was stopped on the front steps by a nameless reporter who wanted to know if he would answer some questions about the Moon Landing Exhibit. We were both skeptical, but Jason agreed; I begged out saying I hadn’t really seen the exhibit. From a nearby van emerged a cameraman and some other lackey, and they began the interview. The reporter asked Jason if, presented with evidence that the museum had withheld pictures that contained evidence of alien life, he would like to see such pictures. Jason replied that of course he would, if such pictures were actually in existence. He then asked why Jason thought those pictures might be held back; Jason answered that that was a very good question, that if those pictures did exist, one would have to wonder at the motives for keeping them secret. The reporter thanked Jason and ended the interview. I wish I new the name of the agency asking the questions so I could look it up on YouTube!
Across from the museum was an entrance into Central Park. We could tell that it would be beautiful in any other season but winter, when there was some kind of foliage. We walked past Strawberry Fields (named for the Beatles song) and some people having a very loud argument about what God had told each of them. Apparently God was telling them different things. I wanted to ask where God could be located because I had some pressing questions of my own. We grabbed a hot dog (which, by the way, was surprisingly unimpressive—stick with the Chicago dog, if you can) as we wandered for the full New York experience. We strolled past a large fountain where a man with a plastic light saber was conducting what was very probably some kind of nerd-tour (this coming from two very decided nerds—there’s no judgment here!) and a very small bridal party was taking pictures. People were jogging, walking, talking and taking pictures everywhere. It was damp and muddy and bare, though, and it really will be spectacular in the spring.
To settle the debate between New York style and Chicago style pizza: Chicago wins again. You fold a huge floppy slice to be able to get the thing in your mouth (and probably to keep the grease from running onto your shirt!), and while it IS tasty, deep dish is more satisfying. So there, New York. What else you got?
We took the ferry from Manhattan to Staten Island with our Chicago friends the Lundeens. It was cold and windy, but free, and you cruise right by the Statue of Liberty. She really isn’t pretty, but she is magnificent, and I felt a strange pride and patriotism seeing her there against the New York skyline.
Anymore if you don't want it to
The world won't wait and I watched you shake
But honey, I don't blame you
Hell, I still love you, New York
Hell, I still love you, New York
New York"
Monday we made our way back to the city for more sightseeing. We perused the Museum of Natural History, spending most of our time in the Peoples of Latin America. I wished they’d had more on the Mapuche tribes and traditions of Chile, but they had a good deal about Mexico and the Amazon.
When we left, Jason was stopped on the front steps by a nameless reporter who wanted to know if he would answer some questions about the Moon Landing Exhibit. We were both skeptical, but Jason agreed; I begged out saying I hadn’t really seen the exhibit. From a nearby van emerged a cameraman and some other lackey, and they began the interview. The reporter asked Jason if, presented with evidence that the museum had withheld pictures that contained evidence of alien life, he would like to see such pictures. Jason replied that of course he would, if such pictures were actually in existence. He then asked why Jason thought those pictures might be held back; Jason answered that that was a very good question, that if those pictures did exist, one would have to wonder at the motives for keeping them secret. The reporter thanked Jason and ended the interview. I wish I new the name of the agency asking the questions so I could look it up on YouTube!
Across from the museum was an entrance into Central Park. We could tell that it would be beautiful in any other season but winter, when there was some kind of foliage. We walked past Strawberry Fields (named for the Beatles song) and some people having a very loud argument about what God had told each of them. Apparently God was telling them different things. I wanted to ask where God could be located because I had some pressing questions of my own. We grabbed a hot dog (which, by the way, was surprisingly unimpressive—stick with the Chicago dog, if you can) as we wandered for the full New York experience. We strolled past a large fountain where a man with a plastic light saber was conducting what was very probably some kind of nerd-tour (this coming from two very decided nerds—there’s no judgment here!) and a very small bridal party was taking pictures. People were jogging, walking, talking and taking pictures everywhere. It was damp and muddy and bare, though, and it really will be spectacular in the spring.
To settle the debate between New York style and Chicago style pizza: Chicago wins again. You fold a huge floppy slice to be able to get the thing in your mouth (and probably to keep the grease from running onto your shirt!), and while it IS tasty, deep dish is more satisfying. So there, New York. What else you got?
We took the ferry from Manhattan to Staten Island with our Chicago friends the Lundeens. It was cold and windy, but free, and you cruise right by the Statue of Liberty. She really isn’t pretty, but she is magnificent, and I felt a strange pride and patriotism seeing her there against the New York skyline.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Brooklyn (Project Jenny, Project Jan)--and other adventures
"It's always so sunny in Brooklyn
Without a cloud in the sky."
Our friends the Spackmans have shown us around their corner of Brooklyn. The first night we were here we hoofed around looking for a good place to eat--because half the reason you go on a vacation to a place is to experience the dining--and we ended up at a small French restaurant called "Moutarde". True to its name, the servers bring out slivered vegetables to dip into several different kinds and colors of mustards that you never knew existed but just then wonder if they would taste just as good on the bread as they do on the veggies, and oh, what about the leg of lamb, and just as you suspected all along, the mustard enhanced just about everything on the table except the water. Though, to be fair, the rosemary-red wine sauce could stand on it's own when it came to the lamb.
We've been having a great time hanging out with the Spackmans. Church was interesting from a purely people-watching standpoint—the ward is very artsy and fashion-forward, as I suspect most younger New Yorkers are. I should have brought my artsy clothes. Next we walked all 5, 989 feet of the Brooklyn Bridge and played tourist snapping photos of the bridge, the skyline and ourselves. A man on a bike passed by wearing an Idaho State University shirt, and Jason regrets not shouting “Go Bangles!” at him.
You can’t see much at Ground Zero now. It’s been blocked off by tall fences all the way around. You can see tall cranes poking out the top, but that’s about it. It was a little disappointing because, though you probably don't need to see the gaping scar, the images of 9/11 remain elusive and have less impact when all you have is the memory of the pictures from television. Even so, you still feel a little heartsore just being there.
The last place we ended up on Sunday was a cupcake party in the West Village. I love that there is a cupcake "scene" in New York, that there are competing companies that have long lines of patrons waiting to buy their pastries, that there are parties to compare them. Decidedly, Christy Spackman's homemade lemon cupcakes topped with lemon curd and whipped cream were the best, and that's not just lip service to our hostess. The West Village was...interesting...a neighborhood where you can have your tatoo, piercing, fettish and french fry needs met all on the same street. I have to mention that the female mannequins weren't constructed to scale, but they probably brought in more customers that way!
Without a cloud in the sky."
Our friends the Spackmans have shown us around their corner of Brooklyn. The first night we were here we hoofed around looking for a good place to eat--because half the reason you go on a vacation to a place is to experience the dining--and we ended up at a small French restaurant called "Moutarde". True to its name, the servers bring out slivered vegetables to dip into several different kinds and colors of mustards that you never knew existed but just then wonder if they would taste just as good on the bread as they do on the veggies, and oh, what about the leg of lamb, and just as you suspected all along, the mustard enhanced just about everything on the table except the water. Though, to be fair, the rosemary-red wine sauce could stand on it's own when it came to the lamb.
We've been having a great time hanging out with the Spackmans. Church was interesting from a purely people-watching standpoint—the ward is very artsy and fashion-forward, as I suspect most younger New Yorkers are. I should have brought my artsy clothes. Next we walked all 5, 989 feet of the Brooklyn Bridge and played tourist snapping photos of the bridge, the skyline and ourselves. A man on a bike passed by wearing an Idaho State University shirt, and Jason regrets not shouting “Go Bangles!” at him.
You can’t see much at Ground Zero now. It’s been blocked off by tall fences all the way around. You can see tall cranes poking out the top, but that’s about it. It was a little disappointing because, though you probably don't need to see the gaping scar, the images of 9/11 remain elusive and have less impact when all you have is the memory of the pictures from television. Even so, you still feel a little heartsore just being there.
The last place we ended up on Sunday was a cupcake party in the West Village. I love that there is a cupcake "scene" in New York, that there are competing companies that have long lines of patrons waiting to buy their pastries, that there are parties to compare them. Decidedly, Christy Spackman's homemade lemon cupcakes topped with lemon curd and whipped cream were the best, and that's not just lip service to our hostess. The West Village was...interesting...a neighborhood where you can have your tatoo, piercing, fettish and french fry needs met all on the same street. I have to mention that the female mannequins weren't constructed to scale, but they probably brought in more customers that way!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
New York City (They Might Be Giants)
Even if you've never been to New York City, you feel like you know her before you even arrive. You see the skyline from the plane window, you see the Statue of Liberty on the cab ride, you cross the Brooklyn Bridge, and these are all things you've done before vicariously through friends or movies or songs, except this time, it's really you, and it's really the city, and you're finally meeting. It's strange the way New York is such a part of the American identity that coming here feels both like being here for the first time and just returning.
We're staying at some very good friends' very New York apartment, occupying the whole of their living room floor with our backpacks and an air mattress. In the street on our way here I noticed a street sign that made me giggle: "NO HONKING EXCEPT IN THE CASE OF DANGER". In my head I imagined some angry New York driver trying to get by some jerk in the narrow street and not being able to do the one thing that seems to make perfect sense in NY traffic--screaming and honking. I think it's funny that there would be a city ordinance against just that behavior!
Being here I remember how much I love cities. Just walking out your door and to find a dozen interesting stores, or some unique dining experience, or some crazy conversation between strangers that you have to hide a smile about as you're walking away. It's cramped, it's noisy, it's energetic, it's exhausting, but it's interesting and amazing, and it doesn't stop being interesting and amazing no matter where you are. Jason and I look at each other and say, "we could do New York City for a year. Yeah, a year! Wouldn't that be perfect?"
"Cuz everyone's my friend in New York City
And everything is beautiful when you're young and pretty
The streets are paved with diamonds, and there's just so much to see
But the best thing about New York City is...you and me."
We're staying at some very good friends' very New York apartment, occupying the whole of their living room floor with our backpacks and an air mattress. In the street on our way here I noticed a street sign that made me giggle: "NO HONKING EXCEPT IN THE CASE OF DANGER". In my head I imagined some angry New York driver trying to get by some jerk in the narrow street and not being able to do the one thing that seems to make perfect sense in NY traffic--screaming and honking. I think it's funny that there would be a city ordinance against just that behavior!
Being here I remember how much I love cities. Just walking out your door and to find a dozen interesting stores, or some unique dining experience, or some crazy conversation between strangers that you have to hide a smile about as you're walking away. It's cramped, it's noisy, it's energetic, it's exhausting, but it's interesting and amazing, and it doesn't stop being interesting and amazing no matter where you are. Jason and I look at each other and say, "we could do New York City for a year. Yeah, a year! Wouldn't that be perfect?"
"Cuz everyone's my friend in New York City
And everything is beautiful when you're young and pretty
The streets are paved with diamonds, and there's just so much to see
But the best thing about New York City is...you and me."
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