Report from the Swamp

After spending a few days in Northern Virginia we once more find ourselves nostalgic for our time here in the mid and late 90's.

-Arrival: As it happens we get here the day of the March for our Lives protest and the hotel is filled with teenagers and homemade signs. Our oldest asks us to explain what the march is all about. We do and suggest she find an anti-gun relative to balance out her father's thoughtful remarks on the matter. Later that night we have dinner with some old friends.

-Day One: We go to the White House. Back in our day Pennsylvania Avenue was open to traffic and we think it's just horrible that they closed it. Thanks Bill. There are Secret Service everywhere and several stand before the fence with bullet proof vests and H&K's. Lots of tourists of course. We get this picture:

We pass Trump International and Middle Daughter asks if Trump lives there too. I say, 'Why yes, honey. The White House isn't classy enough for the President'.

We go to the American History Museum. After spending a few hours there we must say we are highly impressed. Lots of nice displays lots of artifacts and historical pieces. Well done, sirs and madams. Actually our favorite part was the First Lady Inauguration Dress Display and yes they had Melania's, which was classy.

Did I just come out? I think I just came out.

There is talk of going way up town to the Zoo, but the familia de Stroock is tired and this isn't the Bataan Death March. So it's back to the hotel and the pool, which blessedly has a hot tub for which our feet and back are grateful.

Lots of the March for Our Lives kids have hung around an extra day or two to see the sights. There's something incredibly patriotic about that. We spot plenty of MAGA hats around too, and while we're standing in line at Dunkin Donuts three teenagers from the Midwest talk shop about their AR-15s. There is hope.

That night we have dinner with more old friends, including our faire editor, Debbie, whom I work for.

Day-Two: Mrs. Stroock takes Oldest Daughter to the Holocaust Museum. Fun times. Personally we wish they had an Israel Blowing the Crap out of the Arabs Museum, but this seems unlikely. Later we make a note to tell Oldest Daughter all about Aerial Sharon, the greatest Jew since Charleton Heston.

Then we all meet for lunch with an old friend and roommate, Paul. We used to share a brain. From there Paul gives us a ride to the Air and Space Museum, and this makes up for the time he drove us from Capitol Hill and dropped us off at the King Street Metro rather then home. Jerk Face.

There's a reason why Air and Space is the most popular museum. Remember the Newseum, journalism's monument to itself, charges $24 bucks to get in. But Air and Space is free. Don't worry though, they get you at the gift shops, of which we have counted six. That's a hundred bucks we'll never get back.