invasion of america - the string of pearls

New York - Annapolis

Maybe 200 miles.... ish.

I woke up in New Jersey and there was no one else in the house. My friend and all five of the room mates had fled their perch and headed into Manhattan to make it big following their own distinctive courses. Their willingness to leave me alone in their home unattended was bold and I was appreciative of their trust. Of course, I know that the real reason was that they didn't care, they were chasing ambitions and could have cared less what they left in their wake. Besides, I wouldn't have made it far with much.

I packed up and got out somewhat late. My plan was to get to Princeton, NJ in an hour; check out the school and any Albert Einstein stuff I could find and then head off to Philadelphia. There, I was going to do the Mutter museum; the Liberty Bell and anything Ben Franklin. From there, it was on to Baltimore and Edgar Allen Poe's gravesite; and then perhaps see the world famous pier. All of this would take me 5 or 6 hours and I would get to Annapolis in time to meet up with my friend and from there we could head off to Washington DC to take in some of the sights before they all closed. This WAS my plan. But like all things in regards to this trip - I am not in control of my destiny. The plan would have worked and should have worked, if I had left at 7 AM, driven in perfect weather, with no traffic, and with perfect directions. That would have been just super-duper if it had worked out that way. However, I didn't leave until 10 and the weather was again - against me with gale force winds. The traffic was what we like to call special needs people, "gifted" - a bit slow, somewhat aimless, and easily distracted - the pace was devastating. Thankfully, my belief in obeying traffic laws is pretty thin and the shoulder of the highway seemed like it was made just or me. Fifty miles of New Jersey was shoulder driving. I had a blast.

As much that has been said about New Jersey NOT being the ugly state that we all think it is; I would like to say that I can't chime in on the debate. All I was able to see of New Jersey was a huge wall of trees that lined the edges of the turnpike and made it impossible for me to see any of what lay beyond. The last thing I remember being able to see before the tree line started was Newark Airport and a ton of other "plants". Most of them spitting out smoke and smell into the atmosphere. You can easily get the impression that New Jersey is the boiler room of New York City. And that without the efforts of Jersey, New York would shut down completely. (Fact: All of New York City's garbage is sent to New Jersey. )

I'm sure New Jersey is very pretty when you get past the trees.

No Princeton. The word on the street is that Albert Einstein left very specific instructions that he never have a museum in Princeton. So that means there is no reason to go there.

No Philadelphia. I didn't have the best maps and the directions from the internet were vague and disheartening, so I just skipped it. However, I did see some of Philadelphia - from ten miles away. If you slowed down the memory playback in my mind and you enhanced a few of the frames, you might be able to see the glimmer of the sun off of the cracked Liberty Bell. (you gotta look reallllllll close)

No Baltimore. In the long and short of it; I was presented with a rare moment to see the Delaware countryside but it meant bypassing Baltimore to do so. I chose the Delawarian country side and now I wish I had chosen Baltimore. In all of my travels, for all of the beauty and the natural splendor and man-made awe that I have seen; Delaware is a rare miss. It was boring and to add insult to injury - it smelled of green onions. Sadly, our nation's first state is our dullest state. I think it's time to put Delaware out to pasture and just let Maryland annex it... If it will take it. THINK - when was the last time you ever heard someone say something about Delaware and beauty, all in the same conversation? Delaware was a bust. It didn't help that NASCAR was there and so were the millions of the NASCAR faithful that had come to pray at the altar of Number 8.

I arrived in Annapolis around 4 and was pleasantly surprised by it's rustic old world charm. It's very pretty and I am a big fan of civil engineering that doesn't have cars in the equation. Most of Europe looked this way and so does most of New England. The roads and the buildings are almost one with each other and a turn in the roadway can be as angled as 230 degrees and deeply rutted. No one was thinking about SUV's or BMW motorcycles when they planned out the scenic little seaside towns of the New World. Thankfully, nostalgia has kept most of these towns from disappearing into the nothingness that is quickly eating away New York City.

I had just enough time to unpack and get clean, and it was off again to another city for some sightseeing. There is a lot to see in the nation's capital and you really have to know what you're doing when you come here otherwise you'll miss out. This isn't a town for just walking around casually and taking in the sights as the present themselves. Here, the sights are planned out and you must know what you want to see, what you can see, how much time you have to see them and when you can see them or you'll leave town with a capital dome snow globe and a powerful frown that will take two months to remove from your face. Most of the people that live in the DC area haven't seen all that there is to see here, because most of them don't know what to see, where it is or when, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, have a plan, do some research and come here and walk away in absolute awe. DC is a series of beautific buildings, monuments, museums, and other odds and ends that are all laid out in quasi-perfect symmetry. Each spectacle is a pearl of wisdom, or history, or heritage, or hope and they are strung together in a three square mile area for you to enjoy. NO WHERE on Earth will you ever have it so good as you do here. This is a Xanadu for history buffs, museum ghosts and warrior-poets of all ages.

Thankfully, we arrived in town just as the sun was setting behind most of the monuments. Almost all of DC is made up of finished marble which has a majestic luster to it when the sun is just right. Sunset is the best "just right" in any town and I think the city planners were well aware of what they were doing when they planned this city out. They took the sun into consideration, you can tell. Why else would they have chosen to build this city here, on a swamp, when it would have been easier to build the city a mere half mile west, up on the hill top of Arlington, Virginia? It's harder soil, safer and it offers a more splendid view of the surrounding area. So why then build a city in a lowly swamp? I'll tell you - The hill top slopes ever so slightly and it steals some of the setting sun away, which would make this town look like Pittsburgh and who wants that? What good is the majesty of marble if you never get to see it shine in the setting sun? Need an answer; ask the pharoahs of Egypt that built the great pyramids or the builders of Rome or Athens.

I was camera mad. I must have taken more photos in one dusky hour than a spook at the Pentagon during a fire drill. I couldn't help it, I was in a moment where I was the greatest landscape photographer of all time. (I can only hope and pray that one day I will be better at self portraits)

We started in the middle of the mall at the base of the Washington monument and headed west toward the Lincoln Memorial. With every twenty steps taken, a new photo had to be taken of the new reflection of light off the clouds or the trees, or the buildings or a spider web. The light was just that perfect.

New to me on this trip to DC is the NEW World War Two monument that was built just to the west of the Washington Monument. It's large, ugly and historically inaccurate and therefore a blemish on the great grand spectacle of this shrine-happy town. First; it bears the name of George W. Bush because he was the Prez when the thing was dedicated. So it's only fitting that... Secondly; it has fifty states and several "American Territories" listed around it. During WWII there were only 48 states (Hawaii and Alaska don't join us until 1959 so they don't count) so a great fuck up on the monument is less about a tribute to the lives lost during this great war and more a lasting monument to the great stupidity of one man.

Vets hate that his name is on it because they see "Georgie Boy" as an AWOL, priviledged war dodger and they hate the fact that he is given any love at all for his limited "service".

Also; It's not lost on me that it took over fifty years to get a monument built to the WWII vets. Sadly, most of them never saw it. I guess that says something about the way our country treats its vets. No after war care, and no monuments until they need some political capital to work with. In its defense - The US did erect a beautiful Vietnam war memorial in less than ten years after that "conflict" ended. To this day, it's the best war dedication I have ever seen and I have seen a lot of them. (coming in second is the USS Arizona in Pearl Harbor)

I touched the hallowed ground of the Lincoln memorial and was a bit torn up about whether or not I wish to speak ill or kind of the man. He was a snake and the worst kind of politician, and that pokes a hole in my rebellious side. But, he was also a great writer and that, as you know, appeals to me in a far greater way. Politics and stupidity aside, if George Bush was an avid writer, painter or musician, I think I would like him. I can forgive a lot when I know there is poetry in someone's heart, even Lincoln.

From the Lincoln memorial which makes up the western most part of the Mall, I headed north and east to the Vietnam war memorial. It's bold, it's black and it speaks volumes in its simplicity where the WWII says nothing in its complexity. You can see your reflection in the polished black marble and the names that are chiseled out on its face are in a simple font that when you stare at a name, you can only see THAT name. It's a powerful piece of art which has never been defaced in its brief history. Something that no other monument in America can claim. Even the WWII monument has been marred. (that and it's poorly maintained, when I was there, there were incredible spider webs all over it) Not once has someone tried to deface or disrespect this place. It could have something to do with the fact that twenty or so vets are always there watching over it, but I believe that no one dares to disgrace this monument because it's just too beautiful to shame in such a meaningless way. Even a drunk that is stumbling around looking for a late night spot to relieve himself can sense the power of this place and he will move on (Lincoln gets pissed on nightly)

The next two miles of the walk east were dull. There isn't much to see. If you look to the North you can see the White House, which has actually become harder and harder to get close to as the years have past. In fact, two of the main roads that pass by it are now closed off indefinitely. George can sense that the vets might be a bit pissed off at him and he isn't having his security tested. Cause "we live in the safest country in the world".

I got closer to the Capital near the east end of the mall and was stunned to see a huge display of banners hung all over the mall. Now, it's not uncommon to see a protest or two on the Mall so I didn't really give it much thought, especially when the banners read, "Wall of Hope". I mean, it sounded very Hippi inspired to me. So what's one more elaborate protest more or less?

There were hippies there. And there were others there too. The banners were various shades of purple and they didn't speak of war or deception or oil, these spoke of Cancer. Cancer from every state of the union. These people were cancer survivors or a friend or family member of someone that knew or knows cancer. These were my people.

I am a cancer survivor. My father died of cancer. Marcus, a dear friend of mine, is presently raising money for his toddler nephew that is suffering from leukemia. Cancer I know well and serendipity has brought me to this place at this time.

This was the Wall of Hope that is held every four years in our nation's capital to keep some of the world's focus on a long term war that has never ended and is still claiming victims as we speak. I had stumbled on to the main event of this gathering - a candle light vigil and march down the mall. Selected people from around the world would being cracking glow sticks and walking down the mall with them and lighting up the reflecting pool in front of the capital building.

I have always wanted to make a march on Washington so I cracked two glow sticks; One for me and my father and his sister Liz, and one for Marcus and his nephew. I walked, I stood and I meant it.

The sun was gone and the night sky was filled with the yellow-green glow of cancer a loft. Thousands of people had gathered to see this sight and it was very touching. Most were crying for loved ones or for themselves. Miss Maryland was there, herself a cancer survivor. She was very popular and a damn fine woman. There was a lot of bald and thin people walking around. A lot of women with flat chests. Husbands standing with photos of departed wives. Mothers with photos of bald children. All to familiar tears falling down their cheeks. It must be hard to find more tears inside themselves to cry again, but these people found them.

I walked, and then we went back to Annapolis... Tomorrow I wanted to see the rest of the pearls.