America Town

In some ways, the Journey is over. Well, that is, our part of the Journey is over. The neat thing about this is the feeling that it will keep going on in various places in different ways long after we've gone back to real life. But our piece might have finished in Carlisle.

But we said we'd end in Washington, and that's our plan. The last event is scheduled for the atrium of the Smithsonian, where we hope to present the petition to a White House representative. We'll see how that goes: I turned on the news that night for the first time in over a week. Apparently, our arrival coincided with the worst train crash in Washington history, a sharp outbreak of violence in Iran, and threats from North Korea. My chance to fist-bump Obama seems to have dimmed a little.

Since the Smithsonian is not known for being a boarding school, I think this last event will be more of a celebration and wrap-up. We'll see.


We arrived a day early to make sure all arrangements were finalized. Suddenly having a day without driving or filming was shockingly jarring. I spent the whole day in a daze, feeling like I was leaving something important undone. I chose not to look around the city much; this was due to a combination of being worn out, being already overstimulated, and not having transportation. The van might have made its last lousy turn: trying to park it in an underground garage, I got it wedged between the floor and the ceiling. I'd say the sign they've got that says, "Maximum Height" is off by about an inch and a half. Until they fix the sign, I think I'll just leave a van there to remind people.

edit: Wayne got the van unstuck, doing yet further damage to it. He often mentions that it might have been cheaper to just buy me a vehicle. Sadly, he might be right. We won't be taking the van to the Smithsonian tomorrow morning, as neither of us dares to try to park it again.


Patrick (little brother) also arrived in Washington at about the same time. He's volunteered to help out with the final event, and to drive half of the way home. This is wonderful news, as I'm about done driving, and it'll be nice to share this event with someone I'll see again.

Speaking of which, I feel like we're rapidly heading towards a remake of "The Breakfast Club." You know the sense where the weeny one says something like, "We're still gonna be friends after this, right?" and the answer is no? Once this is done, Marlin's going to go back to being the secretly lonely jock, Wayne's going to be the science fair nerd, Maria will be the girl, I'm going to be Emilo Estevez, and Don will be Don Corleone.

Kateri, Don's daughter, also arrived. She's been the voice on the other end of the HQ telephone and organized all our hotel rooms, credit card procurement, coordinator coordination, and the like. She seems really organized and almost immediately started telling Wayne what to do. As he's been the taskmaster so far, I had a little twinge of unfair and perverse delight at seeing him get orders. I say unfair, because he's been really good about getting us where we need to be and making sure we're doing the right things. I imagine his job is akin to herding cats, some days, and he's done well.

In the interests of saving money and not sleeping on the curb, Patrick and I shared the crummy little bed in the hotel. That's not something we need to do, ever again; and if we must, I'd use a mattress with at least one spring. And I'd put it in a room with air conditioning.

The Hotel Harrington, Washington: Now With Bars of Soap in the Sink!

I'm afraid that's the best product placement I can manage right now. It's going to be a big day tomorrow.