EVERY time I visit, I come away with this same affection, a compulsion to hogtie and drag everyone I know–heck, everyone I DON’T know–back to our Nation’s Capitol. The entire District is monument to our country’s history, bringing the dead to life in a way not possible from all-too-often tedious and unimaginative schoolbook text or lifeless, one-dimensional photography or penciled renderings. New York well may be the city that never sleeps, but Washington is a city fully alive, reverberating with a palpable p o w e r
I can’t imagine present anywhere else on planet earth. Certainly it is a place where insatiable political ego is fed–that amuses me at times, in spite of the fact it’s often not funny–but it’s also the birthplace of dreams and ideas and programs and policy that affect each of us daily from before cradle to after grave. If that’s not power, I don’t know what is.
Eleven hours on a bus, beginning at 8:00 p.m. Thursday night and ending Friday morning at 7:00 a.m. hasn’t left me with much energy for writing right now. I need quiet and my family. I’ve been with people–constant NOISE for a week–and honestly, I’m drained (Willowtree, you’d probably have gone postal!). It was a fantastic trip with Rachel’s class with an unexpected bonus: the company of parents I didn’t know very well…hmmm, make that I didn’t know them well before the trip, but 24-hour togetherness, a thousand hours in close quarters, circumstances that were at times maddening but always laughable, and time to tell the stories of our lives…let’s just say post-trip they know enough about me (and, thankfully, visa versa) to get very rich from blackmail. When you’re delirious from total lack of sleep, it’s amazing what can slip out :).
More soon, you know I’ve gotta post My Top Ten Favorite DC Memories, and one thing I know for sure, there’s no way my "Number 1" can be the same as last time…dang it ;).