I am sure I have set a record for most days in the Washington DC area without actually going into Washington DC, middleweight division, but today I did it. I took the metro into town. It’s a shame all the metro stations are so dark and eerie. Is electricity too expensive for some lighting? I only had an hour or so, and most of that running around in frustration doing some shopping for friends, but in Washington DC on every street corner you come across something of historical importance that stops you in your tracks. Ford’s Theatre! A View of the Capitol! The Smithsonian Museums!
Robin tells me that Washington DC has onerous parking tickets since they don’t have many lucrative ways to make revenue. I can attest to their tenacity. Once while passing through I got a parking ticket and for years afterward I got letters sent to me in California saying that if my car ever darkened the capitol’s streets again, it would be towed on sight. This was long after I sold it. I hope the poor soul that bought it didn’t drive out there, but since it was a 1969 VW Squareback, I doubt it had another cross-country trip in her.
I met up with Lynn whom I hadn’t seen for many years. She had just graduated from a culinary school (the name of which I forget but I think it is the Harvard of such schools. If it was the UC-Santa Barbara of such schools it would be called Spam University) and made me lunch as seen above, a true honor. Even though it was just for us, she claimed the snapper was too chewy and in a fit of sorrow and regret I had to overpower her from carrying out what the cooking school instructs you to do when making a mistake: harakiri (ie. doing the honorable thing and ritually ending it all, Japanese style). I heroically wrestled the sharp filleting knife out of her hand while convincing her that the snapper was tender and cooked to perfection.
And I am not going to deny it happened unless she reads this blog.
Last day in America. Tomorrow I fly to Philadelphia and then Zurich, Switzerland on USAirways. I’ve never been to Philadelphia, which niggles me as much as not having ever been to Montreal. Or Savannah. Or Charleston–not even Death Valley and Sequoia National Parks in my own state of California–but I’ve been to Switzerland maybe 10 times.