Road to DC, part 2
Washington ... what a trip.
That's both figuratively and literally. Our Fredonia group's expedition to Washington for the inauguration was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
It's a good thing that we went in with the expectation that we had no expectations. We just wanted to be there for the moment.
Most of us really wanted to be on the National Mall. Only one of us -- Buffalo State student Mandy, who traveled with us but stayed with a friend in DC -- actually made it there, though.
The rest of us tried, though. The Ploetz group got up at 4 a.m. and left the hostel by 4:30 (later than many of the others staying there). You can check out the video above. Coffee was hard to come by at that hour -- the line from the Starbucks stretched around the block.
The maps weren't really well marked to show which paths went to the national mall, where we could see the inauguration on Jumbotrons, and which went to the parade path along Pennsylvania Avenue.
The cops and the volunteers weren't much help either. The answers kept changing. We finally ended up in a line by 14th Street, which despite what somebody in a law enforcement uniform had told me, was for the parade.
It was also, however, by the National Press Club building, which explains how we got interviewed by TV crews from Sweden and Japan and by an Australian radio journalist. It may also have had something to do with my wife, Sandi, wearing an Uncle Sam-style felt top hat.
And, yes, it was cold. Bone-chillin' cold. We wound up on the parade route, where the parade didn't actually start until about 3:30 or 4 p.m. The crowds were cheerful and relatively patient despite the bitter chill, and then there was the squirrel.
I'm actually taking other people's word on this. Apparently a gray squirrel was playing near the feet of a disabled lady in front of us. People were taking photos of it.
But then something startled the squirrel, it bounced to the top of the lady's chair -- or perhaps her shoulder -- and bounced again. I felt something smack my ski cap and asked who had been throwing things into the crowd, only to be told I had been ... squirreled. The squirrel was smart enough to disappear into the shrubs behind us.
We waited. And waited. We talked with a guy from Minnesota who was waiting for his son to march in the parade. His son was playing clarinet in a group marching in the fifth of six divisions.
A city commissioner was taking photos with a very nice digital SLR camera. He said he had a ticket to sit inside the enclosed area in front of Washington's Wilson Building -- the city hall -- but he couldn't get across the parade route to get there. I guess you really don't mess with the feds.
Two girls from Australia stuck it out longer than us. Their faces were a wind-burned pink from the 20-plus-mph winds.
An older African-American woman was there in a wheelchair. Her son said they left New Jersey at 2 a.m. to get there. She insisted on coming. We wondered if the cold might be enough to do her in, but apparently she survived.
Meanwhile, others from our traveling group had repaired to the Capitol City Brewing Company, where the view was better and the Inauguration Ale flowed. They caught their own part of the experience - perhaps a bit more sensibly!
By the time we left (just after Joe Biden passed), we were frozen nearly stiff. Every part of my body hurt when I moved. Most of it hurt when I didn't.
But we were able to bring home some memories of a historic moment for America -- and memories of our personal reasons for being there.
That's both figuratively and literally. Our Fredonia group's expedition to Washington for the inauguration was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
It's a good thing that we went in with the expectation that we had no expectations. We just wanted to be there for the moment.
Most of us really wanted to be on the National Mall. Only one of us -- Buffalo State student Mandy, who traveled with us but stayed with a friend in DC -- actually made it there, though.
The rest of us tried, though. The Ploetz group got up at 4 a.m. and left the hostel by 4:30 (later than many of the others staying there). You can check out the video above. Coffee was hard to come by at that hour -- the line from the Starbucks stretched around the block.
The maps weren't really well marked to show which paths went to the national mall, where we could see the inauguration on Jumbotrons, and which went to the parade path along Pennsylvania Avenue.
The cops and the volunteers weren't much help either. The answers kept changing. We finally ended up in a line by 14th Street, which despite what somebody in a law enforcement uniform had told me, was for the parade.
It was also, however, by the National Press Club building, which explains how we got interviewed by TV crews from Sweden and Japan and by an Australian radio journalist. It may also have had something to do with my wife, Sandi, wearing an Uncle Sam-style felt top hat.
And, yes, it was cold. Bone-chillin' cold. We wound up on the parade route, where the parade didn't actually start until about 3:30 or 4 p.m. The crowds were cheerful and relatively patient despite the bitter chill, and then there was the squirrel.
I'm actually taking other people's word on this. Apparently a gray squirrel was playing near the feet of a disabled lady in front of us. People were taking photos of it.
But then something startled the squirrel, it bounced to the top of the lady's chair -- or perhaps her shoulder -- and bounced again. I felt something smack my ski cap and asked who had been throwing things into the crowd, only to be told I had been ... squirreled. The squirrel was smart enough to disappear into the shrubs behind us.
We waited. And waited. We talked with a guy from Minnesota who was waiting for his son to march in the parade. His son was playing clarinet in a group marching in the fifth of six divisions.
A city commissioner was taking photos with a very nice digital SLR camera. He said he had a ticket to sit inside the enclosed area in front of Washington's Wilson Building -- the city hall -- but he couldn't get across the parade route to get there. I guess you really don't mess with the feds.
Two girls from Australia stuck it out longer than us. Their faces were a wind-burned pink from the 20-plus-mph winds.
An older African-American woman was there in a wheelchair. Her son said they left New Jersey at 2 a.m. to get there. She insisted on coming. We wondered if the cold might be enough to do her in, but apparently she survived.
Meanwhile, others from our traveling group had repaired to the Capitol City Brewing Company, where the view was better and the Inauguration Ale flowed. They caught their own part of the experience - perhaps a bit more sensibly!
By the time we left (just after Joe Biden passed), we were frozen nearly stiff. Every part of my body hurt when I moved. Most of it hurt when I didn't.
But we were able to bring home some memories of a historic moment for America -- and memories of our personal reasons for being there.
posted by Mister E at
5:27 PM
2 Comments:
Thanks for the visit and comment/question. I never did find anything that worked well on my trunk. I put it in the garage over a year ago and propped the lid open about 3" and hoped that airing it out would do the trick, but I haven't checked it out yet. I plan to haul it out and check the smells in it sometime in the fall when the weather is cooler. Good luck with your trunks.
Febreeze is something you should try, as is charcoal. Let me know what happens.
P.S. My daughter, who lives in Arlington, started out at about 6am that morning to go to the mall, and she made it there just before the oath of office was administered. She was only about 200 yds. from the base of the steps and got some great photos.
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