Wednesday, May 25, 2005

Pugs Don't Like Oceans

Washington, DC. One would think that a citizen arriving in Washington would first see enormous piles of money blocking the streets. Not so far, anyhow. It's somewhat frightening that all the money we send to DC is spent. No wonder the Nanny State can afford of be such a long-nosed busybody.

I've neglected posting about the visit with the kids, partially because we were busy, partially because I'm neither a Lileks, a Boudicia nor an Army Wife, Toddler Mom. Just plug in a wildly extroverted four year old boy and a quite introverted two year old boy to any of their posts and that's what I'd write. The newborn, like all two-week olds, eats, poops and sleeps. It was impossible to explain to the boys that Pugs are not horses and no matter how hard you pull their ears you can't ride them.

We left Charlotte, drove to Williamsburg, VA to spend two nights and one full day. We had only enough time to scratch the surface of Colonial Williamsburg before we continued our trip. Not a whole lot to tell, I did, however buy my very first $4.50 cup of coffee in my life. It explained the sociological mystery to me. I've never understood why Starbucks drinkers always seem to be in a bad mood. They simply cannot afford to stave off the caffeine-withdrawal headaches. Nor do I understand the Starbucks mystique. The coffee tastes ugly to a boy raised on the plain-jane stuff. It reminds me of the only time I ever tried the grits in a Yankee truck stop. I was glad to leave Williamsburg, every time we got in the car we were lost.

Seeing as how we don't have a lot of extra time on this trip we drove from Williamsburg to DC via Virginia Beach. Linda Lou had never seen the Atlantic Ocean. It was a gray, rainy day but, luckily, the rain took a break for the couple of hours we spent there. I walked Captain Fatbob the Pug down to the waves. He found the smells of the beach fascinating but when we got to the sand where the small waves were breaking, he didn't like that much. As the waves got close he hid behind me. Then when I tried to back away from the oncoming water I tripped over him and went ass over teakettle on the sand. We just HAD to get dogs. I could be catblogging like all the big guys and gals but no. We had to get dogs. Oh, well, nothing was hurt 'cept my pride and my bootshine. I think my next pet should be a long-legged redhead. Linda Lou disagrees.

The drive up was both beautiful and frustrating. This is some very pretty country but it's frustrating to not have time to stop and tour all the battlefields of the Civil War. The only stop I made was at the Stonewall Jackson Shrine off I95 just south of Fredericksburg. The bed that General Jackson died in is still there and the blanket that covered him. The nice young National Park Service guy is part of the far-flung Davis clan, maybe a forty-second cousin, twelve times removed. anyhow I now know more than I need to about just how Stonewall Jackson died.

In a stunning example of my impeccable timing we hit the Beltway right at rush hour. In spite of all warnings about how rooms are so expensive in DC as opposed to the suburbs we found a Motel 6 on Georgia Ave, five or so miles from the White House. It's over twenty bucks a night cheaper than the suburban motels. The downside? Traffic right outside the window. We're trying to wake up enough to get moving. Stupid cities. Can't sleep very well because of the noise, can't wake up because we're tired. No wonder city folks keep shooting and cutting each other.

One piece of good news, when I went down with the yellow pages to ask where a close kennel to keep Captain Fatbob while we take the Metro to the Smithsonian and The Wall, the clerk said we could just leave him in the room. That saves us some time and money.

Well, it's time to get moving.

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