We, the People

Locals could not recall the D.C. Metro ever being so crowded on a Saturday. Riders overwhelmed the ticket gates and employees finally opened them to anyone waving a ticket. The crowd surged forward, carrying us in its wake. Spirits were high and nobody pushed as we shoehorned our way onto the train. There was a woman with turquoise hair and another sporting red devil’s horns. A guy in a gorilla suit shared a car with another in boxing gloves, mask and cape, all of them ready for Halloween.
But most were like us, dressed normally and chatting with strangers, most decades younger, but many with gray hair. The escalator at the L’Enfant Plaza station was turned off due to the crush of passengers, so we climbed to the top and a sea of humanity on the sunny Capitol Mall.
It was the Rally to Restore Sanity, a tongue-in-cheek gathering of citizens weary of political fear-mongering and hyperbole, media sensationalism and political invective -- the creation of satirists Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert. And we were lucky enough to be there!
Of all the wonderful moments on our trip – and there have been many – this was the most unexpected and exciting. We made our way to the center of the street and found a spot behind media trucks where Terry and I could get occasional glimpses of the Jumbotron screen not much bigger than a postage stamp in the distance. Sometimes it’s nice to be tall; our friend Karen never caught a glimpse of the celebrities. Truth be known, it was all about being there among so many people from across the U.S., signs in hand, kids in strollers, dogs on leash, oldsters sitting in chairs where they only saw knees and derrieres. Surely no one really believed the gathering would change things; perhaps some held out hope.
We heard Stewart’s arrival, heard and saw Colbert stepping from his capsule onto the stage. We heard someone with a wonderful voice sing the national anthem. We heard Yusuf Islam, the former Cat Stevens, sing. But the speaker cut in and out and was woefully inadequate for the size of the crowd. For us, the best part was the camaraderie and the crazy signs and, hoping to avoid the crush of departure, we left before Sheryl Crowe and Ozzy Osbourne. We’d been part of what some estimated to be a quarter-million kindred spirits.
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We toured the Capitol several days later, a visit arranged by our local Congressmen Mike Thompson. Joining a half-dozen other Californians, we walked the long underground tunnels linking the House building and the Capitol, climbing up marble stairs worn uneven by the tread of two centuries of public servants. There were throngs touring the buildings and other than a visiting delegation from China, we seemed to be the only tourists in business dress. When we went into an amphitheater to watch a film, a young blonde from Davis in frayed jeans who’d complained earlier at having to leave her backpack in the Congressman’s office, put her sneaker-clad feet on the back of the seat in front of her.
The rotunda was awe-inspiring, the dome inducing the same crick in the neck as the Sistine Chapel. We’d heard much about the rivalry between John Adams and Thomas Jefferson while touring Monticello, so chuckled when our guide pointed out a detail of an enormous painting of the Declaration of Independence signers, which depicted Jefferson’s right boot planted firmly on the foot of a scowling Adams.
We saw the life-size statues depicting people chosen by each state to represent its history; California’s were Junipero Serra and … Ronald Reagan. We sat in the somewhat cramped seats in the gallery of the House chambers, empty as congressmen were off on a pre-election visit to constituents.
Then we replenished our energy before going to gawk at the White House with Obama burgers (bacon, onion marmalade, Roquefort and horseradish mayo) at Good Stuff Eatery, a nearby burger joint both the president and first lady have visited.
We’d been staying with Karen in her Alexandria condo with its tangerine and saffron-colored walls, mementos of travel from Paris to Marrakech and Shih Tzu tag-team Gromit and Wallace. Our few days there were, of course, not enough.
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Now we’re returning to Victoria, where our Virginia stay began, on the farm of our California friends Brenda and Ed. Happy’s been put out to pasture for nearly a week between the big hickory tree and the charming 1800s-era farmhouse. We’ve had a lovely stay here as well, touring Jefferson’s beautiful home at Monticello, which reflected both his intellectual curiosity (a 16,000 volume library he later sold to the government) and exquisite taste (first-growth Bordeaux purchased only in bottle so the wine couldn’t be adulterated). We explored Monticello’s expansive garden that included such oddities as yard-long Guinea beans, and even tasted some local wine at nearby wineries.
But we’re into November and it’s time to head west.
Pictures, some of them funny signs, at: http://picasaweb.google.com/happytwo.mcwilliams/TripEastVADC?authkey=Gv1sRgCOfl_YisxqrpiwE&feat=directlink