Mr. Gannon Goes To Washington Pt. 2

D.C. is a fun town. Like I said in the last post, this place is pretty darn beautiful. Today we walked down to the National Mall and checked out all of the monuments that are the first things to get blown up by aliens in movies. It was my first time doing so and seeing these massive landmarks up close was wonderful. I got that warm fuzzy feeling in my belly that I get at the end of war films or when someone makes a good speech on TV or when I somehow whoop Carlos' ass at Madden 09' for the first time in months.

It was a cool day. For example:

I got to stand in the exact spot that Martin Luther King Jr. gave his famous and world changing I have a Dream speech.

I saw the White Houses' backyard which has private beehives and a nice little fountain.

The strange thing about this trip so far was the War Memorials. I fully support the construction of these and strongly believe in constantly reminding ourselves about those who have died in wars (American or not) and what we as a nation lose every time we have another one.

Still, it was upsetting (and eventually emotionally taxing) to see so many memorials in such a small space. We really do fight a lot, I know that. It's just strange to see it gobble up real estate in such a blatant way. It's a shame that 90% of the constructed monuments in this area of our capital are about things that all of us wish never happened. I'd like to see some more celebratory monuments but I guess those aren't interesting. I know that we have a lot to celebrate, now it's just a matter of pouring the cement. Am I alone on this?

The statues of exhausted soldiers in the Korean War were intense.

I didn't go to the Vietnam War Memorial (the one by Maya Lin) but instead observed it from a distance. It has been something I've been looking forward to seeing because the stories behind Maya's conception and struggles she had with that piece are amazing. Still, when it was right in front of me I got cold feet. I don't know anyone of those names and knew that some people next to me would. Something about that felt intrusive.

The reason I came out here in the first place was really because of one thing. I wanted to see the Lincoln Memorial. I think it's a beautiful, simple construction with a pretty cool dude sitting inside of it. I came all the way down here to see him and I finally got to. It was great.

I'm not big on temples or enshrining things. This was cool with me, though.

Booyah!

Finally after a big dinner and a lot of strolling around we walked past the front of the White House, lit up in all her glory. She looked good and I was pretty sure that there were people keeping their eye on me and every other spectator through the scope of a sniper rifle or some crazy counter terrorist device that knew who I was, my blogs traffic and that I was not a threat to homeland security. Creepy? Sure. American? Unfortunately, these days, yes.

Still, it felt really nice. Maybe I was swooned by the sandstone.

I Have Arrived

A few hours on the train and I am finally here. The District where dreams come true and patriotism churns like butter in yer' belly.

Right off the bat I have been awed by a butt-ton of beautiful architecture. Stepping off the train it was dark so I haven't seen much except a few landmarks that were illuminated or in eye shot.

My favorite sight thus far has been the brollick dudes peering down from the Attic block in Union Station.

They are called "The Progress of Railroading" and represent fire, electricity, freedom, inspiration, agriculture and mechanics. These six figures (who are actually sculptings of Prometheus, Thales, Themis, Apollo, Ceres and Archimedes, respectively) watch over the commuters of Union Station. A reminder of how wonderful things are. A subtle prompt to stop for one moment and think about how incredible it is that our industry and lifestyle allow us to travel across borders at the drop of a hat safely, conveniently and comfortably.

Ah.

Now juxtapose that with the hot and smelly sinkhole known as Penn Station where the nicest piece of art is a Bart Simpson bust found in the shitter of a TGIF.

Let's get some marble up in that joint.

Mr. Gannon Goes To Washington

Good news, folks. The unofficial winter hiatus is finally over. Why? I'm hitting the road, baby!

It all started a few weeks ago when I was still in school. Preston and I watched the Frank Capra masterpiece Mr. Smith Goes To Washington and as the fireplace roared, drink in hand, I couldn't help feel like I was missing something.

Somewhere beneath that good ol' gilded American propaganda was a strong message. I couldn't help but wonder: where do we draw the line between fanaticism and patriotism? Am I a bona fide American or a flag waving loonie? More importantly, why haven't I been to my nation's capital to visit the many monuments that tribute the rich history this land has behind her?

Well, I called my parents and told em' it was time to hit up D.C. Tickets are bought and tomorrow afternoon I'm getting on a train and commencing my patriotic vision quest.

For the first time in a long while I have something worth blogging about. Thank god, I thought I'd have to wait for the semester to kick off.

Get ready everyone. Tomorrow will kick off the first episode of Mr. Gannon Goes To Washington!

Bon Voyage!