Test Post for Mum

Mum needs to learn how to get a blog going, so I'm doing this post just to show her how it works.

Keep your fingers crossed, everybody. (Charlie is, as you can see, optimistic.)

The Alamo, and Other Victories

I'm on a foreign keyboard, so forgive the typos.

Yesterday was the Alamo, in San Antonio. It was a nice drive about two hours west of Austin. It's quite the site -- you get there, park your car, and spent 10 minutes watching Americans try to figure out how to operate those little machines that dispense parking tickets.

So at this point I'm thinking, hmmm... if this is typical of the area, then the problem at the Alamo wasn't that they had too few men.

Then you get to the site itself, and there's this really nice, tastefully built monument out front (pictures provided), showing Davy Crockett and a few others, and it lists the names of all the men that died at the Alamo.

Then you go in, to the shrine itself. We had to line up -- busy day, and nobody was deterred by the 98 degree heat. This is the actual mission building that everybody thinks of when they refer to "the Alamo". A plaque outside reads "No beverages or photographs. Gentlemen please remove your hats. This is a shrine." Uh... okay. At least they don't ask to kneel and kiss something.

So in you go, and there are flags from all fifty states, helpfully labelled. Then you get to an area with these massive wooden doors... that weren't at the Alamo. And around those doors are these bronze plaques that list the names of all the men that died at the Alamo.

Then you go to a recreation of the "long barracks", which is where the bulk of the fighting apparently took place. Several displays there, with all kinds of interesting information. Among other things, there were survivors from the Alamo -- women, children, and a slave, about twelve or so people, who were left unharmed on Santa Ana's orders. Then, there's a rolling thingy that lists the names of all the men that died at the Alamo.

Then outside, there's a bunch of small billboard like things that give the timeline of the battle, has a picture of a painting depicting the final Mexican attack, then a list of all the men that died at the Alamo.

Then I had to use the facilities. So in I go, and as I unroll the t.p. I see written on it the names... okay, just kidding. But I'm thinking, they're missing out on some marketing opportunities. Not just Alamo T.P., either. What I was thinking was an Alamo snow globe, where the flakes are black instead of white. See, it's like the Mexican bullets, raining down on the Alamo.... They probably wouldn't sell too many at the Alamo site itself, but over in Mexico....

Today we went to the LBJ Ranch, home of the Texas White House. I was laughing at the first part of the tour, which is a farm owned by a neighboring family. "See how LBJ's neighbors lived..." Uh... yeah. Okay. Well, actually it turned out to be the most interesting part of the trip. There was a guy doing blacksmith work, and he gave us a demonstration and explained how it all worked. Then some women dressed in period clothing were preparing food and operating the kitchen.

I know it doesn't sound like much, but it was a lesson in how things were not that long ago, and a demonstration of knowledge that gets lost with each passing generation. Similarly, the way the house was designed, it actually managed to stay reasonably cool notwithstanding the 95 degree heat. Who'd a thunk it?

Tomorrow I'm back home. I'm very much looking forward to finally getting some decent french fries. We found a really good steakhouse yesterday, and I had a first-class steak, but if there are good french fries anywhere in the U.S., I have yet to find them.

Lord Praise Texas! And Lightening! Lord Praise...

No photos today. In Texas, and damn lucky.

So I get up early, pack, check out, get a cab to the airport because I don't want to trust the shuttle & metro, and you know how terribly important it is to be at the airport nice and early so they can inspect your shoes! So I got there nice and early... only to find that my flight was delayed.

Fine.

Wander around. Grab a bite. Oh, by the way, did I mention that the food in DC is terrible? I didn't have one single decent meal my whole time there. Anyway, down to the gate, and it's looking like they've move my flight to another gate, and pushed it back again. So it was supposed to be 12:45, then 1:20, then 2:10. So I wait in line at the desk at the gate, and listen to them tell the enquiring minds that they're best bet is to just go home, because the planes to Miami and Chicago and San Diego aren't going today, and may not go tomorrow.

Gulp.

My turn. "Uh... so I understand flight 1365 has been pushed back again?" "Yeah... no... It's been cancelled."

Inside I was raging. "And you were going to announce this... WHEN, exactly?", I wanted to yell at the top of my lungs. But I've seen that reality show about airports on t.v., and I know what happens to people who act like that. (Little known secret: Omar Khadr? Didn't kill a marine. His flight got bumped, and he complained. Everything else is just a cover story.)

So I'm looking outside, the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the people were screaming about their cancelled flights... and I didn't get it. You're cancelling flights to EVERYWHERE?!?!? Well, yeah, pretty much. There was a major weather system covering a big chunk of the U.S. They were offering to fly me to Raleigh, then a four-hour layover then a flight to Dallas... if the weather had cleared. And I suppose I could have gone north. Well, northwest, since they also cancelled a flight to Hartford. So she's asking me what I want to do, and I'm thinking, and I'm thinking, and she says, "Hey, 3:05 to Dallas! It just opened up!" That was easy.

I still don't entirely get it. It wasn't that nothing was leaving, 'cuz things were leaving, just waaaaay fewer flights than normal. And, it turns out, Dallas got absolutely pounded last night and today, there were roads flooded, there were power outages all over....

Anyway, I made it, got my car, and tomorrow it's the Dr. Pepper Museum and Bottling Plant!!!

Last Day in D.C.

All anybody is talking about today is the shooting at the Holocaust Museum. The first I heard of it was at the National Portrait Gallery. I was asking one of the employees there if they had any of Jackson Pollock's stuff on display. (Mostly because he's one of about three American artists that I've ever heard of, and that's if you include the guy who draws Dilbert.) She was trying to look it up in her computer, but she was pretty shaken up. She said she'd just heard that there was a shooting there, and she'd been there just a couple of minutes before it happened. No Pollock, it turned out.

So obviously I'm not a big art guy. But I'd actually seen some of these paintings in the history books, Sheridan's Ride, Robert E. Lee, lots of the early statesmen of the U.S. There is a very impressive exhibit dedicated to the presidents, and I recognized most of the portraits from the presidents' profiles in the World Book Encyclopedia. They have the profile view of Lincoln that was the basis for the penny, the portrait of Washington used on the dollar... and probably other paintings worth even more than those!

On the top floor of the Portrait Gallery is a section dedicated to modern art. What can I say. Modern art. It's just so... so... modern. Like horizontal, coloured stripes. Wow. How modern. I was really tired at one point, and there was a sofa. I thought about asking the guard if it was an exhibit, or could I sit on it, but I figured he probably hears that one about ten times a day, so I waited until he'd walked past and then sat down. Apparently it was just a sofa.

What did interest me was how some of the works there really grabbed me. So there was one with five alternating black and white lines, like a close-up of a piano. That one was like, yeah, whatever. What a genius -- he actually got someone to pay for this piece of crap. But then there was one with a bunch of black brush strokes in different directions on a white canvas. That one had me looking at it for quite some time. Would have bought a t-shirt of it, if they'd had one.

Then I was off to the National Art Gallery. Yes, they're different. In fact, they got so much darn art that they built two buildings to house it all! There's the West Gallery, and... uh... what's it called... oh yeah, the East Gallery. (So much for art making people smarter.) This one had paintings of dead people by dead people from all over the world! And I'm sure that if I'd made an effort to see any of them, I might have been impressed. But, it's a really big building, and my tolerance level for sightseeing has been diminishing on a daily basis, and you're not allowed to drink Dr. Pepper in the galleries, so I have to confess I basically gave Gallery West a miss and headed for Gallery East, which had more modern art.

Well, mostly East had more crap. Great looking building though. There's a really neat tunnel connecting East and West, photo attached.

My big regret for the day was that I wasn't able to get to see the National Archives. This has the original Declaration of Independence, Constitution, Bill of Rights, Emancipation Proclamation, and probably other stuff as well. (It's a really big building.) But there was a very long wait to get in, my feet and back were hurting, the rain clouds were threatening, and details of the shooting were starting to get out.

The assailant, it turns out, is an 89 year-old neo-Nazi who runs a website dedicated to denying the Holocaust. He entered the Holocaust Museum with a rifle, pulled it out the second he was through the door, and started shooting. He killed a security guard, and talk at the time was that he'd wounded two other people, and was himself shot by security. He'd had a long, illustrious history, which included an incident in 1983 when he showed up at the Federal Reserve Board armed to the teeth, intending to kidnap the Federal Reserve's powers that be, because he thought interest rates were too high. He got some time for that one, but obviously not enough.

So anyway, it was around that time that I'd basically decided I'd had my fill of the American Experience. Love this country though I do, there's no shortage of reminders as to why I could never live here.

Walking back to the subway, I passed a guy busking on Constitution Avenue. He was an older African-American man, playing the trumpet one handed. He had a beautiful, beautiful sound. I listened to him play several tunes, and took a short video clip of him playing which I'll try to post here, but if I can't I'll try to post to my facebook page. I gave him a bunch of money, and I wish I'd stayed to listen some more.

When I was riding the shuttle back to the hotel, I remembered an incident that was reported in the Washington Post in April. One of the staff writers was inspired by a busker's playing (and the commuters' collective apathy) to wonder, what if there was a world-class musician playing in the subway? Would anybody notice? Well, he made it happen. He got Joshua Bell, one of the great violinists in the world today to bring his Stradivarius down to L'Enfant Plaza and play for 45 minutes. They had a video camera secreted away to catch the reaction of the city's commuters.

The short answer is that Mr. Bell gave the $32.17 he collected to charity. Every once in a while someone would stop for a moment, but that was it.

So, riding on the shuttle, I was wondering, maybe I got Belled today. That guy's tone was really good, I certainly would buy an album of his. But no, he wasn't. There were too many things -- like how he'd stop playing to thank people who gave him money -- that make me realize, he's just a guy struggling to get by. I wish I'd stayed to listen, to talk to him and maybe learn something about how he came to be in that position. It certainly would have been more enlightening than anything else I'd seen today.

I've uploaded my buddy to youtube. Here's the link. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CS62DdNU9Io

Another Day, Another Museum

I'll start by saying that all day, at every opportunity, I was looking for a Washington Redskins towel to buy. Then I'll just leave that alone for a while. Also, I'll mention that I chose not to buy any t-shirts today.

Washington really reminds me of Paris. You can be standing at a random intersection and be surrounded by these magnificent old buildings, buildings that aren't anything terribly important, just random government buildings, or buildings converted to shops or offices. Everywhere you go in the central core, there's this mixture of old and new that's really something to see.

So the Smithsonian is quite a sight, no question. The amount of work that's gone into it, the exhibits, the artifacts that they've collected, it's impressive. But it has its limitations. Today was the American History Museum. I was expecting something along the lines of, "The paradox of the Emancipation Proclaimation was that, while it freed the 5 million slaves in the South, it did nothing for the 500,000 slaves in the Northern states and Washington D.C. Lincoln hoped at the time that..." Instead, what you get is, "A long time ago, there was this man named Abraham Lincoln...." It's all very lowest common denominator. Understandable -- I mean, heck, this is America. But, like the Museum of the American Indian, it ends up being quite the letdown.

However, it was very cool to see things like the original Kermit the Frog, Archie Bunker's chair, the puffy shirt from Seinfeld, and things of arguably more import, like Lincoln's stovepipe hat and the table and chairs from the Appomattox Courthouse. Tomorrow I'll be visiting some of the art galleries.

So again I found myself burdened with foot and back pain, and decided to treat myself to a steak. I made some inquiries, and came up with the name of the Chophouse. So on the way, I see this huge Barnes and Noble, and of course no way can I pass that up. so in I go.

I wasn't in there all that long. It couldn't have been more than 10 minutes, but when I came out, the sky was dark, the wind was gusting, and big drops of rain were starting to fall. I guess this was probably what those guys were talking about earlier in the day when they warned me about torrential rain on its way.... But hey, I'm a Vancouver boy, I know rain. I laugh at their rain. I MOCK them, and their piddly little... uh, yeah, not so little it turns out.

So, you know how on the prairies, you get those really sudden, really intense, huge rain and lightening storms? They come in, rage really hard for like 15 minutes, then go away? Yeah. Well, here in D.C. I guess their storms appreciate that they're playing on a national stage, 'cuz this puppy didn't stop. (The lightning is still flashing now, four hours later.)

I got to the Chophouse. Remember how I started by saying I'd been looking for a Washington Redskins towel, but couldn't find one? Ya. I went into the restaurant, and just said, "I completely understand if you can't serve me, looking like this..." The very kind hostess said, "It's happy hour. We'll stick you in a corner. Nobody will notice." I ordered a Dr. Pepper and an extra-large t-shirt. I figured, hey, a place like this, they MUST have t-shirts for sale. No such luck. But they brought me lots of napkins, so by the time my steak came I was still soaked through to the bone, but at least no longer dripping directly onto the table.

The steak wasn't that great, neither were their fries. But they had the best cornbread I've ever tasted. Brought it right in the pan. And they poured a pretty good Dr. Pepper.

Who Knew Being on Vacation Was Such Hard Work?

I had my first experience with the DC Metro today. It is designed along the same lines as the Metro in Paris, except the employees here don't pretend they don't understand English, and the people generally are very polite. It's a great system, fast, lots of cars per train, very efficient.

I went into Arlington to do some shopping at Pentagon City, a large mall by the Pentagon. It was absolutely huge, though not quite huge enough. (I mean really, is it so unreasonable to expect somebody to have Washington Redskins road jerseys in my size, with the name and number of a player who retired 40 years ago? Come on, Charley Taylor is in the Hall of Fame, dammit, I'm sure those puppies would absolutely FLY off the shelves!)

Next it was Georgetown, an area where there are tons of stores built in these really old buildings. Quite pretty, but again, lots of women's clothing stores, not many long-retired football player jersey stores. (It didn't even have to be Charley, I'd take Sammy Baugh too. Even Bobby Mitchell. Maybe John Riggins. Or Art Monk. Nah, not Monk.)

Now, my plan for the day was very intricate, requiring some very precise timing. Basically, I was going to randomly shlep around town until about 8 o'clock, and then go to the Lincoln Memorial and Washington Monument, and take wonderfully spectacular pictures in the fading light. There was a problem with my intricate plan. I'm getting old, and I'm getting fat, and it's hot here, and the blocks are a lot longer than they look on the maps. By about 3 o'clock I was tired, hungry, and thirsty. By 5 o'clock I was calling for my mummy. By 7 o'clock I was randomly wandering into busy streets screaming "Taxi! Taxi!". Drivers hear are very courteous. Or, at least, they don't want a Jeremy-sized dent on their bumpers, 'cuz nobody ran me down.

A cabbie stopped and picked me up. I told him where my hotel was, and off we went. He had a very long conversation with his dispatcher in Punjabi. Later he told me he was reluctant to take me to the hotel because, well, it's in a slum. I don't think I've mentioned that yet. But he said he could tell I was a nice guy, so he decided he'd do it. He said next time I should stay in Rossland, just across the river in Virginia. Nice neighborhood, you can walk around at night, it's just across the bridge from Georgetown, and the hotels -- not being in D.C. -- will be cheaper.

Anyway, I've posted some of the pictures I took today. The first is the C & O Creek in Georgetown. The creek, and bordering greenspace, is actually a National Park. Very pretty, though it kinda smells. Then there's a picture of the White House. Then there's a picture of the White House, without the zoom feature engaged, which gives you a better idea of how close you're allowed to get without prior clearance.

The Vietnam Memorial is quite astonishing. You don't think of 55,000 as being that big a number, but the amount of space it takes to list all those names is staggering. They had a group of kids running through while I was there, quite oblivious, and a number of people were there looking for the names of friends, brothers, sons. Part of me wanted to take a picture, but I couldn't intrude on such a personal moment.

The other pictures speak for themselves. I gotta say, our American friends sure know how to build a monument.

Back to the Smithsonian buildings tomorrow.

Somebody needs to tell my sister that I DON'T KNOW WHERE SHE LIVES. She really needs to send me an email, or else I might just end up spending all five days exploring the Original Dr. Pepper Bottling Plant and Museum in Waco. (And I think you all know I can do just that)

1st Day of Sightseeing

As is inevitable whenever I go anywhere, I spent the first day here sick. My theory is that everything's different -- the climate, the water, the food -- so the body has to adjust to the new zurroundings. I'm sure it had nothing to do with last night's dinner of potato chips and Dr. Pepper. But, I toughed it out, and rode the hotel shuttle in to Union Station to see the sights.

D.C. has to be seen to be believed. What they show on t.v. and pictures in books don't come close to conveying the sheer scope and size of the buildings. They are truly immense. Union Station is huge. It has something like 75 stores and restaurants, but they could fit a few hundred if they wanted to use all the space. Then you go outside and walk down the street to the Capitol building, and again, absoloutely huge.

Then you get to the National Mall, and it's a long series of large, immaculate buildings, mostly government in one form or another (Library of Congress, Supreme Court, Office building for the Senate, etc.) It was really quite overpowering. I kept thinking back to my six months of being sort of an American, and actually seeing these incredible buildings that I learned about all those years ago, and what they represented, it had me choking up a little bit.

The first part of the Smithsonian Institute I saw was the Museum of the American Indian. Very disappointing. It's a pretty building, shaped like a gigantic adobe hut, but the exhibits are all pretty superficial. I guess that's to be expected -- there are so many different tribes, and they all want to be represented. But not much in the way of history or the personalities, and virtually nothing on what I wanted to see -- the BLOODSHED!!!! Oh well, I guess they wanted to avoid the stereotypes.... But there was very little of anything that was of any importance to American history -- nothing on the first contact with the pilgrims, nothing about Tecumseh... just lots of clay pots and pictures of current tribal leaders.

The Air and Space Museum was another thing altogether. I'm hoping I'll be able to post some pictures, 'cuz I took a whole lot. It has to be one of the coolest places in the world, for a guy anyway. Chuck Yeager's X1 is hanging up by the entrance, right near Lindbergh's Spirit of St. Louis. The Wright Brothers' plane from Kitty Hawk is there, as well a few of their bicycles, and the wind tunnel they used to test the models they built when designing their first plane. They have the lunar module from Apollo 11, the capsule thingy that they all crashed down in, they got fighter planes from both world wars, jet fighters from the Korean War.... I'm not sure how many pictures I got, but it was a lot. I actually ran the battery out in my camera, but then I got to the exhibit that had a British Spitfire and a Japanese Mitsubishi Zero. So I found an electrical outlet, plugged in the charger, and then just stood around hoping nobody from security would see me. (Side note: we actually charged a guy in Vancouver with "theft of electricity" for doing something like this... an outlet on the outside of a building, and the accused, a homeless guy, had plugged in a radio or something like that.) After a few minutes, I had enough of a charge to take another three pics.

One mildly amusing thing. I needed a hat and a watch. The hat was easy (go Patriots!) but I didn't want to spend alot on a watch. There was a Swatch store in Union Station, but I wanted something cheaper than them. I looked everywhere. Nothing. I couldn't believe it -- I figured for sure the cheap tacky tourist kiosks would have something, a watch with a picture of the White House or Obama, or something. But no. Then I check out the gift stores at the two Smithsonian Museums (and there were five gift shops total in the two buildings). Again, nothing. I was shocked -- shocked I say! I mean hell, a picture of Sitting Bull as the watch face, with hands designed like arrows? Those suckers would FLY off the shelves. Or an airplane, with hands shaped like anti-aircraft missiles? NOTHING!

So I break down and buy a Swatch. $50. Then I'm downstairs at Union Station and come across a store I obviously missed: "Buy Obama '08". Wonderfully tacky Obama watches, six different styles, $14.95 each. Fug.