“Most of the US is built in accordance to rapid capitalism, with cheap, blocky structures rising across broad swaths of land. It’s in New England, which has been settled for centuries, where United States colonial architecture is often at its finest.” – Old Sean
The DC Standing Points
The northeast of the United States is an odd step away from what I consider classic US architecture. Things are more compact, the buildings have enough history to actually appear old and the land has been settled into a soft lull of cultivated wilderness after two centuries of European-centric construction. There is no place this is more obvious than the politically-charged and politically strange zone of Washington DC.
I’ve been to DC several times in my life. I’ve been there when it was a ghost town during government shutdowns, I’ve arrived during the Obama heyday for high-school band trips, I’ve been there during the rising protests near the tail end of the Trump presidency.
And now I’ve been there at it’s least normal, the tail end of the first COVID epidemic. And it’s peaceful, in it’s bustling way.
Now, I don’t think American’s like politicians for very good reason. But I don’t know any politicians in DC. I only know some career bureaucrats. And I’m fond of them and they seem much more at peace these days.
Exploring DC
I was in DC visiting my friend-brother Carl, the greatest man I know on the entire eastern seaboard. We started by running to Dolan Uyghur Restaurant, which served some truly spectacular and overtly filling goshnan.
Afterwards, we hopped on the subway and Carl took me on a trip as a tourist through the city-scape. We visited the Lincoln Memorial, the Reflecting Pool, the WWII Memorial, the Washington Monument, The Martin Luther King Memorial, the FDR Memorial, the George Mason Memorial, the Thomas Jefferson Memorial and Woodrow Wilson Plaza.
The mythos around America’s capital is always very, very interesting to delve into. There’s a strong sense of epic in a relatively young country on display here.
Afterwards, it was off to the bar and then sushi with a few of Carl’s friends. First came drinks at Lost and Found and then an enormous plate of sushi at Chaplain’s.
We stayed out as late as DC’s early-closing subway system would allow and then retired to Carl’s place for the night, where I was introduced to the splendid Australian comedy Auntie Donna’s Big House of Fun. Which I immediately required we binge-watch all the way through.
The next day, Carl and I took a series of trips around the immediate area of the city. We hiked Soapstone Valley Trail while chatting about historical anomalies, wandered over to my favorite pastry shop in the city, Bread Furst, popped in to see the retro movie style Burger King from down the street and finally loaded into the car to visit Carl’s mother, whom I haven’t seen for a few years.
Baltimore
Once we returned to the city proper, I said goodbye and wandered north to meet up with my old friend Rubov. He was still working by the time I rolled into Baltimore, so I brought a book while I wandered Fells Point.
Baltimore is a mixed bag of sharp divides. There are parts that are extremely pleasant especially around the bay area with brick buildings, tiny hole-in-the-wall dining opportunities, large parks and narrow streets that counter-intuitively open up to the waterfront.
The area around John Hopkins is very pleasant as well, with neat streets, tall, shaded trees, curbside yard sales and pretty colonial buildings built in narrow proximity to one another, complete with colorful trimming on every staircase, door-front and awning. Between these two areas is a concerning number of battered and derelict buildings and a somewhat confusing labyrinth of roads and bridges jutting off at strange angles.
I met Rubov with some friends and we ended up spending a portion of our night hanging around a small campfire in a backyard under a tangle of electrical wires webbing their way towards various houses from a back ally.
The following morning, Rubov and I wound up to a slow start. I toyed around on the piano for a while before joining Rubov on his back-porch garden to watch the birds darting around. We spotted several robins, a couple of finches and the notorious Baltimore Oriole.
Peaceful Days
The rest of our morning was spent walking towards the Farmer’s Market. We passed numerous yard sales on the way and when we finally reached the miniture city of bright awnings, we wandered freely.
The best feature was the vibrantly and loudly painted bus in the center of the plaza where folks were selling jewelry and clothing from the vehicle. I managed to get myself some small pies from Dangerously Delicious.
We also got a couple pizzas for lunch, some hydroponic veggies to bring back home, a fair number of beignets and some fruit cups. We sat down to eat on geometric benches while local children played with Beyblades, a type of fighting spinning-top that was somehow popular when I was in elementary school.
Full of food, Rubov and I walked steadily back to his apartment, stopping to browse various yard sales for trinkets. I found a Lonely Planet book regarding one of my favorite countries (Turkey) and Rubov bought an oscillating artistic light bulb.
But on that note, another day was finished. Rubov dropped me off at my car so he could head to work while I turned the key, patted the hood fondly and headed towards Wilmington, Delaware to see my stepmother.
Nexus
The trip to Delaware was very brief, but I managed to do the usual. Visit people, enjoy a game of Mario Party, had a couple of drinks and caught up with some people. Overall, it wasn’t too shabby of a day.
The next stage of the trip, however, I needed to psych myself up for.
I was due to drive into New York. As always, I like parking at Staten Island and taking the St. George Ferry (which is free) into the southern portion of Manhattan. It’s an easy tour of the bay, including a few looks at the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, and it prevents me from having to drive through the absolute jumble that is NYC. Even better, it means I can avoid shelling out upwards of fifty
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written May 17th 2021
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The GoPro Hero Black is my go to Action camera. I’m not comfortable bringing my cell phone to many wet and rugged locations, so the GoPro does most of my photographic heavy-lifting. The only things I bring in my GoPro kit are the camera, a spare battery and the forehead mount. I upgrade my GoPro once every two years. It was particularly excellent to have during my aquatic tour of Belize.
