Packing In as Much as We Can . . .

. . . and I'm not just talkin' about food.

On Sunday the 17th we decide to go different directions although like a few years ago in New York, we visited virtually the same places.

I started the day with the most important meal, by wandering over to the Ritz-Carlton. Breakfast was terrific, but I thought I was overhearing some juicy political intrigue, when a table with two women and one man were analyzing the positions of various Congressional members. But the man, who dominated the discussion, and along with his wife were trying to convert the second woman to Christianity.

My morning was jarred when my waitress asked me if I was here for the Resurrection. I informed her that I wasn't religious, and she said loudly, "Good, then you'll have the whole city to yourself!"

Ray, as you'll hear on the audio below, went down to the White House and watched a protest, then obtained a cigar and watched a hockey game.

I opted for the Corcoran Gallery and the Maya Lin exhibit--extraordinary! Afterwards I ambled over the Vietnam Wall to pay respects and buy some gifts for a friend.

Dinner at a Georgetown seafood place was a bust because it was so busy with grads. GWU and Georgetown held their graduations this day and the night was filled with celebrating families.

Monday, however, was a different story.

We began the day at the Supreme Court. Outside a group of 30 or 40 people were ranting loudly about how the sky is falling to a crowd of 2--Ray and me. In all fairness, several bystanders stopped out of curiosity, but quickly scurried away. The video below will give you a sense of the 'presentation.'

Ray attempts to convert a Christian

The Supreme Court docket was light, announcing two decisions and admitting lots of young attorneys to the bar. Some proud parents, already in good standing, nominated their son or daughter. All nominees were accepted.

Feeling dutifully patriotic we Metro'd over to Ben's Chili. Ray had been there the day before. This was my first time and it was memorable. Loud music, great food, and happy people made for a terrific lunch.

Following this was a visit to the Pentagon memorial, the first 9/11 memorial completed. A somber and respectful, memorial to those on the plane and in the air that lost their lives.

Having forsaken food for almost two hours, we waddled into the Metro cattle car headed for Arlington, Virginia, and Ray's Hell Burgers, a stop on the Obama/Biden burger tour.

It was a lengthy walk from the Metro stop, but we needed the exercise. Ray's may be the most

non-descript place to eat we've ever frequented. In a strip mall, with no sign on the front, the only way we would know we were in the correct place was how busy it was along with the hand-printed sign that read, "Please be patient with your order; things are busy since the President's visit."

And we now know why he visited. That was some burger.

Needing to be wheeled out of Ray's, we made yet another visit to the National's park. This time the weather was much more cooperative, a beautiful night, even a bit chilly. But the bats weren't as you shall soon see.

We were disappointed to learn that they did not have available for sale our vaunted $5 grandstand tickets, but we stumbled on to something even better.

His name was Godie, he had a couple of tickets, and the game was about to start so he needed to unload them. His first offer was $20 apiece, but quickly dropped his offer to $10 when all we said was 'No.'

The tickets looked good, so the only item left was their authenticity. Godie offered to walk us up to the gate to prove their worth. We had a deal and Godie followed through.
But before leaving Godie on the other side of the fence, he left us with high praise, calling us a 'couple of political white boys.'

And his tickets were pretty good, I'd say--in the first row behind the Nationals' dugout. Seated next to us were two guys who sold Godie their tix, for the same exact price we paid for them. So it was a wash for Godie, a bath for the sellers, and the winners were . . . . . . .two mopes from the Midwest.

Seated behind us were a group of rag tag, and a little bit sauced group of guys, one a one-armed veteran who provided our whole section with entertainment the entire game. They were the best ball beggars I've ever seen, accumulating many for themselves but also numerous gifts for the whole section.

On one occasion an actual foul ball landed just in front of this guy (and just behind us). He dove for it and several baseballs fell out of his pockets, which were quickly scooped up by other patrons. He, however, arm and all, got the foul ball.

It was a fun night and a great day--our last on the road.

NEW SPECIAL FRIENDS: Johnson, Godie, The One-Armed Man