Washington DC

We had both been to Washington DC as kids, but had been putting off a trip to the nation's capitol since 1992. When the air cleared in 2001, the time finally seemed right. For better or worse, last minute planning meant it was a road trip. Unless you are a masochist, take I-79 south to I-68 instead of the dreaded Pennsylvania Turnpike. We made the mistake of approaching DC at a slow creep in the turnpike's narrow lanes in dense traffic. It must be Pennsylvania's way of saying "go home." Thankfully, we made it and checked into The Watergate ready to go.

Mother Nature was busy insuring green grass and bright flowers, so our first two days were spent combing the Smithsonian. The museums are only open from 10:00 am to 5:30 pm, apparently to maximize the concentration of visitors. Despite the crowd, we saw cool stuff like space suits that were really worn on the moon, Archie Bunker's chair, a giant squid, countless bones and skeletons, the Gossamer Albatross, Abe Lincoln's top hat, and many more fascinating items from our rich history.

One of the Memorial Day traditions in Washington DC is a biker rally hosted by the local chapter of Rolling Thunder. We seem to have a thing with bikers and our paths have crossed on more than one occasion. Maybe it's a sign that we should be planning to become bikers someday. They are definitely a colorful bunch and contribute to the Americana where ever they go.

On learning of our trip, several people asked us to say hi to George W or slap that spineless bastard from Vermont (that's a history test). We laughed and said "sure" while not really believing we would see the President. Little did we know. On Sunday afternoon during our lunch at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, W's Presidential chopper and an escort chopper roared overhead and landed on the White House lawn. Later, on our way to Arlington National Cemetery, W's motorcade passed by on its way back to the White House and the important business of getting our country back on its feet.

It is easy to lose the true meaning of Memorial Day amid the constant onslaught of advertising and our marketing-driven society. Memorial Day is a time to honor our friends, fathers, uncles and grandfathers who have served our great country in armed service. It is a time to honor men whom we never met, whom owed us nothing, but gave their lives in battle to preserve the freedom we enjoy today. It is a time to reflect on that very freedom, taking it not for granted, but cherishing it as our core value. It is a time for tears to well up in eyes, a time to stand tall, a time to respect the uniform, a time to be proud. God bless America.

A note on diversity: America may have once been the world's melting pot, but a weekend in Washington will quickly dispell the notion that cultures are still melting. We owe much of our rich culture to the immigrants who steamed across the oceans, pledged their allegence to the flag, and became Americans. Few places provide as obvious an indication that this isn't the way it works any more as Washington DC. Today we are a multi-culture of individual races, ancestries, nationalities and orientations. Everyone is a minority. Isn't it time to give up titles like African-American, Asian-American, Jewish-American, Gay-American, Hungarian-American, etc., and get back to the job of just being Americans? This is the Land of the Free, but we are pursuing the wrong freedoms. Freedom is not the ability to burn the flag, shit on the cross, cash a government check, or defile the country. Freedom is the right to enjoy life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. There is an important difference there. Are you part of the problem, or part of the solution? Ask your Grandfather. Thanks for reading.

Enter a city or US Zip   Today's Weather

Support local business; fly AmericaWest

Send questions about this website directly to Vince.