Last weekend Kyle and I blurred through a magical history tour from Philadelphia’s Independence Hall to the US Capitol and all of these in between:
- Liberty Bell
- White House (smaller than I imagined)
- WWII Memorial
- Lincoln Memorial
- Vietnam Memorial
- Washington Monument
- Smithsonian Air and Space Museum
- National Gallery of Art
We also toured a variety of culinary haunts from Pat’s King of Steak in South Philly to Sam and Harry’s steakhouse in DC. Neither Sam nor Harry allow jeans in their house of beef, so the boy and I cabbed it to a Men’s Wearhouse for khaki’s, dress shirt and a belt. Given Kyle’s conscientious objector status regarding clothes shopping, it wasn’t a bad trip. Mr. Daley was very agreeable, and after a brief fitting of the pants, we were out of there.
It was a great learning experience for Kyle and while he may not understand the subtlety of the moving Vietnam wall, he was patient and respectful through several walking hours on Saturday. Once the pain from his fallen arches got to be too much, my hand went up and a taxi arrived. We took it easy on the misty Sunday, limiting our stroll to the Capitol and the National Gallery of Art. The Capitol seemed pretty deserted for a nation teetering on the economic abyss. Shouldn’t these people be pulling all nighters? I mean working, not chasing interns… The National Gallery was pretty uninspiring compared to other “great” museums like the Met and MFA, but the wire sculptures of Alexander Calder did stand out.
As we wound our way along the curving, stone wall lined Delaware turnpike headed back to West Chester, PA, I asked Kyle what he thought of DC. “Dad, my feet hurt.”