We began Day Three with breakfast in the hotel lobby with what felt like three hundred other hotel guests, all clamoring for the waffle iron and forgetting their manners.
The view from our window looks down on St. Mary Mother of God parish - it is a beautiful gothic cathedral, small but impressive. As we sat down to breakfast, we were moved to see a Palm Sunday processional - each congregant holding a palm frond and walking slowly down Fifth Street then into the church. Sigh; I miss my church family today.
We then took a brisk walk from the hotel to the U.S. Navy Memorial - one of The Mister's favorite places in D.C., and now mine as well. The flags and fountains are magnificent, and it makes me slightly weepy to see The Navy Hymn ("Eternal father, strong to save...") inscribed in the circular stone steps.
From there, we made our way down towards the main Smithsonian compound. While waiting for the signal to cross at 10th and Constitution, we were amused to happen upon a cluster of tourists riding Segway scooters. I'm sure it's a great way to see the city, but watching them roll around in a herd like that was hilarious. The Boy nicknamed them "The Mild Ones".
We spent most of the day visiting the Museum of American History. So much to see!
Immediately upon arrival, The Boy and I were eager to try the ride simulators downstairs (I love rollercoasters), so that was our first stop. What. A. Rip-off. Fourteen bucks later, I was crabby and mildly nauseated and not the least bit entertained.
From there, we decided to go up to the top floor and then work our way down. If I had to name my favorite exhibit from the entire day, it would have to be The American Presidency on the Third Floor East. I must admit to becoming more cynical about the executive branch in recent years, but this collection of presidential artifacts stirred my old enthusiasm. Something about seeing Lincoln's stovepipe hat, along with Reagan campaign paraphernalia and the Jefferson Bible just made it seem a lot bigger than any one man.
Around 3ish, we decided we were getting tired and hungry, so we made our way to The Stars and Stripes Cafe on the bottom floor. While admission to all Smithsonian museums is free, you apparently need a second mortgage if you're also planning to have lunch. Two cheeseburgers, a slice of cheese pizza and a salad later, we were $55 lighter than when we came in. FIFTY-FIVE dollars for lunch in a museum. My cynicism quickly returned.
After we ate, we decided to make use of our 48-hour "hop on, hop off" tour bus passes, mostly because we were too tired to start another museum. Let me go on record here by saying that I am usually embarrassed to be a tourist; in general, tourists are rude and boorish and loud and poorly-dressed. Tourists wear black socks with sandals and look lost a lot. I hate to look lost.
After all, it doesn't seem all that long ago that I was here in D.C. with a group of other regional healthplan leaders, working the halls in the Dirksen and Hart buildings in opposition to the Medicare Modernization Act and having dinner at The Monocle with our lobbyist. I was extremely cool and was happy to tell you about my coolness in case you hadn't sensed it on your own.
Yet today I found myself perched atop a "SEE D.C." double-decker sardine tin, filled to the brim with tourist families pointing and taking pictures. And I was the chief pointer and picture-taker, and doggone happy about it too. (No black socks though.)
After making the loop around the Tidal Basin and the Jefferson and Lincoln Memorials, our bus wound its way back around and up towards our hotel. The nearest stop to our hotel is near the International Spy Museum and the National Portrait Gallery; as we stepped off the bus, we were dismayed to see large crowds milling about in apparent anticipation of some kind of event.
Then some dude asked me if I had any tickets I wanted to sell. Tickets? Oh no, please tell me it's not going to be another "big game" crush of people like last night. The Girl and I suffer from mild agoraphobia, and I shared her alarm at envisioning a replay of last night's attempts to find dinner amid throngs of crazed sports fans. Worse still was the fact that tonight's crowds seemed to have a higher percentage of smokers among their ranks; the Girl cannot bear public smoking and will overtly demonstrate her disgust by pulling her t-shirt up over her nose and coughing dramatically.
Things went downhill as we sought out our supper venue. Clyde's? A 90-minute wait. Legal Sea Foods was estimated to be an hour, but the hostess offered to take my cell number and call us if a table opened up sooner. In weary resignation, we decided to just go back to the hotel and order room service.
It was on our way back to the hotel that we learned the nature of tonight's big attraction...turns out that Bruuuuuce is playing the Verizon Center tonight, and Springsteen fans have come from all over the country to see him and tour D.C. at the same time. Within fifteen minutes of our return to our hotel room and collectively kicking off our shoes, my cell phone rang and Ashley from Legal Sea Foods said that our table was ready...three blocks away, and back through throngs of E-Street wannabes.
Suffice to say that was some mighty fine crab dip and clam chowder - worth every bit of the hassle factor involved in getting back to it.
After dinner, we walked back in the dark and decided to go up the extra block past our hotel to CVS. We wanted to get a couple of toiletries we'd forgotten, along with some reasonably priced sodas for the room.
It was here that the Girl witnessed her first street crime; an unpleasantly fragrant man tried to leave the store without paying for his snacks, and the clerk chased him out onto the street. He came back in, cursing about how he'd paid for these "**** chips" and this was a bunch of "f***ing bull****". Having concluded our own purchases, we quietly made our way out the door, only to have the Chip Thief follow us out as he muttered obscenities.
As soon as he passed by us, the Girl grabbed her daddy's hand, and with huge saucer eyes she announced that she would never ever EVER live in a city.
Nice place to visit - but not sure that I blame her.
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