POLITICS - RELIGION - SEX
By Duncan
The Washington Monument honors and memorializes George Washington at the center of the nation's capital.
Behind me is the Washington Monument. If I’m in Washington, D.C., You know there will be politics. Religion is part of this story, and sex? Well, we will see.
My “momma” was raised by a very strict Pentecostal mother who taught her how a young woman should behave. Lucy (my mother) taught her son, me, what she learned from her mother. And one of the things she taught me was never to talk about politics, religion, or sex in polite company. I have a more diverse congregation of reformed believers in my advanced years. I’m not sure “polite” is the right word either.
I don’t know how to tell this story without touching on the above subjects. Mom felt uncomfortable talking about all forms of politics. “It’s nobody’s business who I vote for.”
The Baptist Religion was preached in my home, but politics and sex were never talked about. That unspeakable education of sex came from the girl across the street, who wanted to play spin the bottle in her darkened garage.
Mom passed away twenty years ago, and we live in a different society today. My goal here is simple. I want to tell you how I found myself in Washington, D.C. I had no plans on the drawing boards of going to D.C., So bear with me; this could be a very bumpy ride.
It was a Sunday Morning. TW, She likes to be called TW. It stands for Tammy Wagner, and it also stands for “The Wife.” TW approaches me with a very concerned look on her face.
“I need to ask you something. I received an email from The Jewish Federation of Greater Indianapolis; they are putting a group together to go to Washington to support Israel. I want to go. They say there will be 100,000 people who will attend this Rally. What do you think?”
The Baptist me has not been following the current events all that closely. But it’s hard not to know what is happening in the world. So, in some ways, I’m not as focused as most alarmed Jews are right now.
Her body language tells me she is serious about wanting to go to Washington and wants to be involved. I’m aware of current events; I have been watching the news, and my first reaction is,
“Are you nuts? You could get killed doing this event. Why would you want to put yourself in harm's way?”
However, I had the good fortune to keep my mouth shut. I calmly ask to see the paperwork. She has a letter of explanation as to what is going to happen and a timetable for the next three days. There is also a form that needs to be signed, and the legal form basically says,
“If you die on this trip for any reason, don’t blame us. The Jewish Federation of Greater Indianapolis.”
I didn’t realize she wanted me to go with her on this trip.
(Me? I don’t want to go and get involved in an altercation of some kind and get shot.)
So, without going through all the reasons NOT to go, you already know, I decided to go with her, at her request. So, let’s move on and talk about the trip.
Monday morning (9:00 AM) we get on a bus, and we ride a bus to Washington D.C. We will arrive in Washington at about 8:30 PM. A hotel room will be bought and paid for in our name at the Embassy Suites by Hilton, Crystal City National Airport, Monday night.
Photo Credit: Embassy Suites website
On Tuesday morning, we check out of the hotel at 9:00 AM. We put our luggage back on the bus. We get on the bus and are dropped off at a subway station closer to downtown. We then take the subway to The National Mall. We will get armbands at some point to access the fences. Only friends of Israel will be allowed inside the fence at The National Mall.
The history of the United States Capitol Building begins in 1793. Since then, the U.S. Capitol has been built, burnt, rebuilt, extended and restored. The Capitol that we see today is the result of several major periods of construction; it stands as a monument to the ingenuity, determination, and skill of the American people
The program is scheduled to start at 1:00 PM and over at 3:00 PM. At 3:00 PM, we make our way back to the hotel parking lot, board the bus, and head back to Indianapolis at about 4:00 PM.
We will arrive back in Indianapolis on Wednesday morning early, about 2:00 AM.
(Cost? $200.00 a head.)
Okay, now that you know what I know, let me tell you how things went. It’s not all that bad. This trip would be my first time ever traveling with a group. I kept telling myself to sit back and relax; everything would be taken care of for me. The reality of the moment is, “I am not in charge of anything.” (I hate when I lose control of my life. )
Most people feel the same way. Because that is the way I had to think. So, I climbed on board, found a seat, and realized the woman in front of me had her chair pushed back into my space. Not to cause any problems, I had to hold my tongue. I got up and looked for another seat that gave me more room.
I was about halfway back in the coach. Settling in for the 10-hour ride, I found a standard electrical outlet in front of me. A three-prong outlet like the one on my walls at home. I assumed I would find a USB outlet, but it’s not here. I had a “Brick” for charging my phone. So I knew I could charge my phone the entire trip. I have the Pandora Application on my phone, so lots of music will not be a problem. I could also ask Google Streets and Maps where we were as we traveled down the highways and byways.
Brassica
In Columbus, Ohio, I was told we would make a quick lunch stop. We would have several fast food restaurants close to each other. Wrong.
We stopped at Brassica. Their business slogan and mission was an ode to brassicas, a family of vegetables known for serious nutrition. We prepare them simply so their beautiful flavors and colors can shine. Featuring organic, whole wheat pita, artisan tahini, nutritious chickpeas, antibiotic-free meats, and a tremendous network of local growers and craft brewers.
I asked Google, “What does Brassica mean?”
Brassica (/ˈbræsɪkə/) is a genus of plants in the cabbage and mustard family (Brassicaceae). The members of the genus are informally known as cruciferous vegetables, cabbages, or mustard plants. Crops from this genus are sometimes called cole crops—derived from the Latin caulis, denoting the stem or stalk of a plant.
I ordered a glass of red wine.
Back on the bus, we were off like a herd of turtles. We had another couple of quick stops at Rest Areas for those who needed to use the facilities. As night darkened the sky, it would be another couple hours before we rolled into Washington. The lights in the coach became dim, and an eerie silence came over the coach.
During the last two hours, one of the leaders, Shoshi, gave a report. He talked about all the programs The Jewish Federation of Greater Indianapolis offers and the good work his team is performing.
Then Jeff stood up and gave us the latest report about security. He had been talking to The National Jewish Federation that tracks the internet, the dark web, and other platforms to see if there were any credible threats to our safety.
Jeff cautioned that while we will be moving through the subway system of D.C., we need to stick very close together as a group. One person alone is in more danger than a group of people. The good news is there aren't organized credible threats to this event.
Well, that was good news; my initial fears about attending this event are the same concerns of the National Jewish Federation.
The bus weaved its way through the streets and finally stopped in the Embassy Suites By Hilton, Crystal City National Airport parking lot. Of course, I had yet to learn where we were, but the announcement on the Motor Coach speakers sounded something like this.
“Okay, Group check-in, the hotel will want to scan your credit card; this is not to pay for the room but for incidentals that you may charge to the room. Oh, and by the way, the bar will close in about 40 minutes.”
Needless to say, that was good news and bad news. I had planned to spend more than 40 minutes in the bar tonight. So, I had to think fast, check in with 50 other people, go to the room and drop the small amount of luggage we had, and then find the bar and order a drink. All before they closed. This will require some fancy footwork.
I pulled up a stool and waited for Phan T to take our order. He looked Asian and had a heavy accent. I asked for a Scotch, and TW wanted a beer. He was a soft-spoken man, and I got the feeling he was new at this job. He went behind the bar and asked an Asian-looking woman where the Scotch was. She pointed to an area, and Phan looked confused. He came back to the high-top table, “What Kind You Like?”
I looked at the selections from afar. On the top shelf, I noticed Johnnie Walker's Red Label.
“Johnnie Walker Red will be okay.”
Phan wanted to please; he seemed to be a very humble man. He returned with our drink orders and asked if we wanted “any-ting” to eat. We asked if we could get the Sliders and Fries?
“Oh yes, We can do! Yes, we can do.”
It was so good to be off the bus and sitting in a very elegant hotel bar with $57.00 sliders. (Oh, that $57 includes the food, the drinks, and the tip.) The two people who were running the bar, an Asian woman and Phan, were closing down. They were picking up dishes and glasses and whipping down the tables and getting ready to shut it down.
The Asian woman was walking by our high table and asked if we needed anything? I said something like, “We were fine, thank you for staying open after closing time.”
“You welcome.”
“What is your name?” I asked the woman.
“Pasty.”
I was thinking her name might have had an Asian accent to it. “Tell me, Pasty, where are you from? I notice an accent.”
“I from Taiwan.”
“Pasty, what brought you to Washington D.C?”
“I come here for Government job.”
“Is this a part-time job, plus your Government job?”
“No, dis is my full tim job. I did not pass da-test.”
“What kind of test was it?”
“I took TSA test, I flunk. Den day says, take test again. I flunk again.”
“Wow, you got to take the TSA test two times; that’s very unusual. Why do you think they let you take the test two times?”
“I speak Chinese. Day need me, speak Chinese. Where are you from?”
“Indianapolis.”
“Why you here?”
“Pasty, we are going to a “Support Israel Rally tomorrow at The National Mall. Are you aware of this rally that is coming to Washington? We are told there will be 100,000 people that will be at the mall.”
“No, I don’t know Rally. 100,000 people?”
“That’s what we are told.”
We talked for a few minutes, and she had to attend to a customer who wanted to pay his bill and go to his room.
Patsy came back to our table with two complimentary glasses of red wine. I assume she wanted us to stick around and continue to talk with her.
We then asked for pictures of her, and she wanted to include us.
Pasty - Embassy Suites Hotel BarTender, TW - Indianapolis
Well, it was an interesting and fun few minutes getting to know other people on the road. A friend of mine (Mr. Garrity) said part of the fun of a road trip is coming across interesting people when you are traveling. And it was an enjoyable few minutes listening to Pasty explain a little bit about her life.
(Oh, by the way, don’t tell hotel management that Pasty is giving away free wine to her personal and very close friends.)
The next morning was an early call. We had to leave the room and be on the bus by 9:00 AM. I wanted to sample the breakfast that was being offered by Embassy Suites. Phan (our waiter) the night before, in the bar, said that we should give the breakfast a try, it’s really good. And he was not kidding. One of the best complimentary breakfasts I have had at a hotel. But as you may already know, most of my “hotels” are Motel 6s. And of course, they only offer coffee, maybe.
I was pressed for time, and I didn’t think to take pictures of the morning breakfast. But I’m sure you know what scrambled eggs look like. Don’t forget the white gravy on top of my eggs, three or four sausages, a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee. Use your imagination.
I had my breakfast, our luggage was on the bus and the group gathered in the lobby of the hotel before we were to begin the final leg of our trip to The National Mall. The hotel was out by the airport, and we need to get to a subway station entrance to be able to get off at the Smithsonian exit, or is it called a subway terminal location?
Oh my, this will take some getting used too, if I’m going to move around using the subway system.
My first time in a Washington DC subway. I was surprised by how clean the subway system is. The buildings and the cars. And the trains move quickly across the tracks. Likewise, they stop rather quickly, too.
Hang on to the poles; the starts and stops are quick.
Coming out of the subway system close to The National Mall.
My first look at The National Mall.
On one end of The National Mall is the Washington Monument.
If you turn 180 degrees, the Capital Building is at the other end of The National Mall. I’m unsure what I was thinking, as this picture of myself was taken with the Capital Building in the background.
I could have been thinking about the history of this place. I could have been thinking about the politics of this place. I could have been thinking, It’s interesting how I can be in one place yesterday and another the next day.
Or thinking about Sunday morning when TW came into my Command Center and said, “I want to go to Washington D.C., and I want you to go with me.” That was Sunday; this is Tuesday; life can happen so fast if you let it.
For me, almost all my life has been a series of “Doors opening to me,” all I had to do was walk through the doors. Yes, there were times I didn’t take advantage of the open door and shouldn’t have walked through some of the doors.
But, there have been more interesting and positive doors than negative ones. So here I am, standing on The National Mall. And the best or the worst is about to happen with 100,000 Jewish believers who are going to fill this mall. Maybe I was still concerned about safety when this picture was taken.
There was a fence around The National Mall. Security had decided that only people with plastic wristbands could enter the fenced area. I was told we were considered “Friends of Israel.” I assumed there could be not-so-friendly people who would have a different opinion. The National Mall began to fill with people.
The Rally was scheduled to start at 1:00 PM and end at 3:00 PM. I was elbow to elbow with people as they crowded into the Mall. It was impossible to see the stage. However they had large screen TV displays and a very good sound system, so I could see and hear the speeches.
Only some people were focused on the speeches. I was standing under a Digital display, looking at the screen, when a young woman in front of me decided to sit on the ground.
She pulled out her cell phone and began playing Candy Crush. I watched her for a few minutes and tried to understand how playing a game on one’s cell phone was normal behavior at this event.
I have never played games on my cell phone. I’m not the demographic for cell phone games. I know the entire nation is addicted to the cell phone. Social media and other forms of cell phone use are acceptable today.
After all, I just pulled out my cell phone and took a picture of her playing games. So, who am I to criticize? See, even I can be negative about how others conduct their lives. I ask for forgiveness.
The event was coming to a close. People were starting to leave The National Mall. There were a lot of people at this event. Several times, I thought, what would I do if something went terribly wrong. If there was an incident at today's event, I was unaware of any problems. Now, all we had to do was follow the Hoosiers for Israel sign to get back to the bus.
Police were everywhere.
We had stragglers getting back to the bus. So we didn’t push off on schedule. We didn’t get started till about 6:00 PM. There was a reason: The March for Israel was expected to draw 100,000 people. However, when I got on the bus to head back to Indianapolis, I scanned my cell phone for headlines that I might find interesting. The 100,000 that were expected turned out to be 290,000. People who know about these things say this was one of their largest gatherings without anyone getting arrested.
It was a long ride back. It took 12 hours to get home. We arrived back at the Indianapolis Hebrew Congregation parking lot about 6:00 AM.
Jeff was our driver for this trip. Having been a tour bus driver myself, I was interested in who would be behind the wheel of this magnificent Provost Motor Coach. Jeff rolled in Monday morning and got out of his bus. I walked close to him, and he said with tongue in cheek,
“I hold your lives in my hands.”
Wednesday morning, after the trip was over, I walked up to Jeff and said,
“When you arrived Monday morning, the first thing you said to me was,
“I hold your lives in my hands.”
I slipped him a “Jackson” and said, “Thank you for allowing me to live another day.”
