Sojourn to Washington DC, Thanksgiving 2009
I made a Facebook Gallery of my trip to Trip to Washington, DC
, which can be seen by anyone. I think I'll laze out (laze in?) and not make separate LJ pics. And I'll only do a bit of a trip report.Tuesday before Thanksgiving.
I arrive at National, then go pick up my nephew Jake in another terminal an hour or so later. We call my brother's house to let them know we're coming. Sister-in-law Patty and niece Tua have just come back from Italy (delayed a day) and are too tired to receive visitors that late. Mom agrees to meet us at the B&B we're staying at. Jake and I cab in, getting there just before 11pm.
Usually, we can grab a snack at Joe's or order take out from nearby, but they've gone to sleep and DC closes. I haven't had anything to eat since an early lunch and Jake is a teenager. We walk down Connecticut until we get to the main plaza around the Woodley/Zoo Metro stop. If those places are closed, we're doomed. This, alas, is the case. My mother has the idea that the Marriott's dining room is open. We get to the hotel after 11. Not only is the restaurant closed, but the bar
is closed. Sheesh.
Being my mother, she old-lady's the head bartender into giving us some cereal and milk. The cash register is closed, so they can't charge us anything. Mom nibbles while Jake and I wolf down the food in the bar lounge. When I got back to Mpls, I called up the Marriott and spoke to someone in HR, thanking the bartender and the whole staff for saving the life of people from three different states.After Thanksgiving.
I remember it's my avuncular duty -- my obligation
-- to be a little subversive. I spend a day or so teaching my 2 3/4-year-old niece Tua the word "lilliputian". She used it (correctly!) a few times before I left. Will it take? We shall see.Sunday, heading home.
The Textile Museum
is nearby Joe's place, the exhibits change a lot and mom likes to go. From there, the guy at the front desk calls us a cab. It happens to be the DC Karaoke Cab
. There's a sign up, taped to the back of the front seat, about the cab (and the YouTube link, above). I ask about it. He starts singing.
This is why I carry around my interview kit. I pull out my iPod-with-a-microphone and camera. I miss the beginning of his song stylings, but catch the rest and take a few pictures. For your edification, I have edited it in two forms: The Karaoke Cab sings to Dave and Ethel
and the more full audio, including the songs to me and mom, The Karaoke Cab sings us to Union Station