BBBEEEEEEEEEP…“Can I please have your attention. We have been advised that a dangerous thunder and lightning storm is passing through the area from 4:28 to 5:15pm and ask everyone to please remain inside the building until that time for their own safety. Thank you.”
We were trying to collect ourselves with a quiet walk through the dignified halls of paintings, art, and portraits, among the other hushed looky-loos. That is what blared throughout the Smithsonian Portrait Gallery & American Art Museum moments after we walked in. Devolving everything into some This is not a drill moment. This sort of thing may be typical for East Coasters, but it gave off major apocalypse vibes for this batch of Southern Californians.
Thunder rattled the building like mortar shells. There was a palpable edge found inside that normally calm museum. Just last week people lost their lives being struck by lightning near the White House. Security guards urged everyone to stay away from the windows in case lightning hit nearby outside. Apparently, window glass won’t save your squished face if it’s trying to peek-a-boo the end times outside.
So we tried to center ourselves and have a look around. We tried to admire the beauty within. We kept our composure and concentrated on the experience at hand: the poetry of image, the dignity and grace produced by the hands of humanity, until the danger outside blew over.
Talk about metaphor…
TAIDODGEYU are at it again. This time we decided to forego the tropical and tackle the historical. The Yus have never been to the Capitol, and it just seemed the right time for Tyler and Piper to see it for themselves. For Charlie and Chase – this is visit number three. We are fortunate enough to have Leo join our family vacation for the second year in a row – even though Washington D.C. is very near to his beloved Baltimore in a very backyard kind-of-way. But we are glad to have him, and this trip is only the better for it!
Unlike Tyler and Piper – Washington D.C. isn’t as fresh or new or maybe even that adventurous for Charlie, Chase, and Leo. They also have a different perspective of this place, as they are forced to not only wrestle with the leaden chains of disappointment and frustration at the current state of this country, its politics, and many of its people, but also try their hardest to contain their fears of the very possible paths the aggregate could be heading down. And I don’t blame them – I think much of it is on all of our minds. But for the vacation, we are trying our best to focus on the more pleasant things in life. It seems like a contradictory choice to visit the proverbial epicenter of what gives those of our ilk acid reflux at night. But fuck it. We are a family making memories. Why not poke our noses around the hub of this grand experiment called “Democracy” while it lasts, and storm the Capitol the TaiDodgeYu way…
Yesterday was our first full day here, and what better way to get a vibe of a city than to visit its collection of venomous, back-biting wild animals. I know what you may think: “But the Senate isn’t in session this time of year!” Well, I’m talking about a more civilized form of wildlife; I’m talking about the creatures large and small at The National Zoo.
The high was 97 degrees, and the humidity was 51%, which made it feel about 104 plus, or ”Satan’s Balls” to put it in “President Johnson” parlance. Every seven steps produced about a gallon of sweat. All of the animals were beyond hot as well – The Zoo was trying its best to keep them cool. Many exhibits were closed so the animals could be inside the air-conditioned buildings. You know, just like Vegas. Many of those facilities still have viewing stations. So we did our best, and were most excited to see, of course, the pandas. The pandas were particularly expressive with their heat exhaustion, and I empathized with them tremendously.
I was blown away by how thought out this zoo is! Most of the animal exhibits afford the creatures more space than I’ve ever seen at any other zoo. The whole place effectively creates the sense that this is more of a place for the animals than for the people who visit. The trails meander as if in the wild, shrouded by trees and foliage of the region of each creature’s exhibit. The Zoo clearly loves its animals and tries to give them the best. There are a few head-scratchers though: the tigers are kept right next to a carousel, forcing the cats to endure a nightmarish loop of tinny-circus music that would make any creature with ears utterly insane. If those tigers ever escape there will be a bloodbath and it’s the music’s fault. It seems this merry-go-round is a holdover from a past era, and I hope it soon finds itself removed with prejudice. Why ride a fake animal in a dumb frozen pose when you are also there to learn about and appreciate the actual beasts in a humane manner? And then there’s the ape-house – which lacks the vibrancy, imagination, and space found in the other exhibits for animals of that size. I’m not a zoo person. The older I get, the more selfish they seem. But the National Zoo feels different, and I am rooting for them to seek perfection. Ape together strong! So COME ON, NATIONAL ZOO!
Have I mentioned how hot it was? Dangerously hot. And if it weren’t for Leo – who has frequented the National Zoo so often that he even had one of his childhood birthday parties there – we would have wasted precious sweat trying to figure out what to do and where to go. Leo was our sherpa – and kept our quest for pandas, monkeys, and all other wildlife from turning into a death march.
This morning we trekked from our hotel to the Library of Congress. It was still breathtakingly hot and humid, but whatever, I had a fresh pair of sweat-wicking undies on, so the sky was the limit. Truthfully, there isn’t much to see for a casual visitor of the Library of Congress. Still, I enjoyed the vibe of the place, and whenever I find myself around a bunch of books, it gets me fantasizing about owning a fantastic library’s-worth of first editions. I genuinely am a book person. There is rarely a day that goes by where I don’t feel guilty about not reading enough, and I secretly fantasize about writing a novel, so this place was my jam. Plus, the air conditioning was excellent and at least their insanely muscular fountain statues seemed cooled by their neptunian waters.
After the Library of Congress, we shuffled across the street to the Capitol Building for a tour. Unlike the tour the Dodges went on years ago, we were shown around by two interns from our District Congresswoman, Judy Chu’s office. Calvin and Grace were informative, funny, sincere, and very much our speed. We felt quite exceptional as all the other riff-raff were being led around by the “Red Jackets,” as the official Capitol guides are apparently called. We don’t know how we lucked into such a special arrangement, but it was a great experience. The tour covered the essentials. We saw the original Supreme Court chambers, the dome, Washington’s intended crypt, and the Statuary Hall. But Calvin – a history major at Cal, also peppered in some exciting historical color by pointing out ancient cat paw prints in a tiny corner of cement, made in the Civil War Era. The troops housed inside the Capitol also brought in an abundance of filth – which meant rats. So they set loose some cats on those rats. To those cats who served for the sake of our Capitol, I salute you.
Calvin also included some more color on the original Senate Chamber – Senators of the time were notoriously filthy and smelly! Senators seem to have been far from perfect for quite a long time…
Our tour was Calvin and Grace’s last that they would ever give during their stint at the Capitol, and it was an honor to be the last faces they saw, thanking them for their time and attention, and wishing them luck with their futures.
The one thing I found missing while at the Capitol was any mention of the Jan. 6 Insurrection. I realize that relative to most markers and monuments in Washington, the events of that day are still incredibly fresh. And truthfully, I don’t know how it should have been addressed. I just found it to be quite the elephant in the rotunda.
I stood in the Statuary Hall, gazing up at the statue of Jefferson Davis – a monument placed in the Capitol Building in 1931 by the state of Mississippi. It made me reflect on how angry I felt at the image of a rioter walking through the halls of the Capitol Building carrying a large Confederate flag. I remember reading that never before had that flag been inside the building. Yet here I was looking at a twelve-foot-tall tribute to the man who served as a pillar for the ideals the flag embodied. I realized there had already been an emblem of the Confederacy sitting inside the Capitol for 91 years.
And yet, across from Jefferson Davis rises the statue of Rosa Parks.
It got me thinking that this place is full of so many contradictions. Not just Statuary Hall. But the Capitol Building itself. And the people working within it. And the people they represent abroad. And Washington D.C. itself as a city. It got me thinking about the endless struggle—the eternal work. Nothing is ever done. Nothing is ever indeed won. Is that good or bad? I don’t know. It could be either, could be both at the same time. I can say right now that it’s exhausting if nothing else.
After the Capitol tour, we rendezvoused with Charlie and Leo. Charlie wasn’t feeling too good in the a.m. and decided to rest up. Leo stayed with her. We lunched and then walked over to the National Archives Building to say hello to the Magna Carta, the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. I noticed that the guards standing next to the cases wore Kevlar vests under their shirts and found myself wondering if they always have worn that over the years, or was this a more recent requirement to adjust to the times. The ink on all those documents is faded, barely legible, but I found it a bit hopeful that so many people show up to lean in and squint for a closer look.
Next, we tried our best to make it to the Old Post Office tower. We actually got into the elevator and made it to the top, but once the doors opened, a guard told us that a lightning safety warning was issued and we needed to go back down immediately. Bummed but not broken, we hustled a few blocks to the Smithsonian Portrait Gallery & American Art Museum – passing by Ford’s Theater on the way – but the clouds were looking very angry, and the drops started to fall, so straight to the Portrait Gallery, we trudged.
My favorite portrait that I saw was of John Lewis, painted during the last year of his life by Michael Shane Neal. The style of the piece gave the impression of a work unfinished, serving as a metaphor for justice.
And the storm raged on outside. So we sat together. We walked together. We joked together. We were together. Until finally, it blew over.
