FEELING GO - BEERY PRANKS ON THE POTOMAC'S BANKS

(REMEMBER: IF YOU'RE MENTIONED BY NAME ITS COS I LOVE YOU DEARLY. IF YOU'RE NOT, ITS ONLY TO PROTECT MYSELF IN THE LIBEL COURT)

You sit on a turbulence tossed plane for seven long lonely hours with a woman in a crocheted dress who would rather read her trashy novel and take up too much space than chat thankyou very much, whilst Dale Winton's twin brother busys himself with the drinks trolley and the evidence that the golden age of hollywood is long passed is continuously beamed onto the screen in front. And just as the film rolls to a conclusion, just as the guy gets the girl, just as the two mean assed hombres draw their guns at high noon and the detective builds up his racont of who the murderer really is - we land.

And its only when I see the BIG PICK UP passing on a roads adjacent to the runway that I smile with the realisation that I am now in the United States of America, and not in a Middle England out of town industrial estate, since all airports the world over take on this appearance and Dulles International in Washington DC is no exception.

After an inquisition at customs that would put Torquemada to shame I'm allowed to step through the gates and into the land of opportunity an into the firm manly arms of old skool mukka Dobsy, who has kindly agreed to put me up for the first few days of my american stay.

The first night is spent in the charming DC suburb of Alexandria, sampling the local brews and local chat, butits just a warm up to a mad friday in a place called Adams Morgan, where a quality night was spent with ex-pats and general good eggs Chris and Paul, where we flew the flag for England. Managed a good few hours on the old falling down water before jet lag and serious drains on the charm reserve began to kick in. - but I was able to confirm, if only scientifically, just how cool it sometimes is to be British.

I spent the next day on checking out the sites and sounds of the nation's capital, running into a gang of sunday leaguers in old Sheffield Wednesday away kits. Obviously I was eager to know what had given them such foresight to wear these fine colours, but the guy on the touchline got a bit funny about my line of questioning, and anyhow when I found out he was an Arsenal supporter I walked away.

I saw JFK's eternal flame, where gangs of Americans were fighting to have a smiling family photo in front of the contraversial President's Grave.
"And let this be a lesson to ya, son. In America, anyone can become president, providing you put enough money in the right pockets."
Allegedly.

The Korean War Memorial was oddly engaging, an eery parade of steeley grey figures on patrol, the back man turning to the onlooker urging you to keep down. It was the first time I'd found a crowd of tourists be so quiet, and sadly the last.


A soldier, Korean War Memorial.

The statue of Abraham Lincoln was very strange, nothing could have prepared me for how lifelike it looked, like Honest Abe was about to step up out of the chair he sits in and deliver some verbose words of wisdom. I read that Lincoln once said "My policy is to have no policy". Sounds like he would have fitted in well at my last place of work.
The Vietnam Memorial - Nearby there are stalls run by veterans, still fighting for recognition for themselves and their buddies who never made it home. The memorial itself, a black stone slab wall gradually growing in height then lowering again with the name of every soldier who either died or is still MIA, from John H. Anderson Jr to Jessie Culba, every one is there. It was moving as an observer to watch folk carefully and respectfully take a rubbing of the name of a lost friend or relative.
But we're here for fun, eh?

The following day was Sunday, which meant a drive up to Baltimore for the Baseball game, Orioles verses the Phillys. It was interesting to watch and I thank Dobsy for putting up with my tirade of questions regarding what was going on. It was quite a spectacle, though not as spectacular as the sights at HOOTER'S bar and grill. Its true. Everything in America does seem bigger.


Me & Dobsy, blending into the baseball crowd.

That was the end of my Washington stay, time then to hit the rails and see some of the country. Next Stop - MEMPHIS!

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