Washington D.C. - Freedom, Death, and Wax (Day 2)

 Day Two in D.C. was when Matt and I split up. First, we went on a guided tour of the National Archives. No pictures though - none were allowed. Neither was mace. The girls in ahead of us in the security line obviously didn't read the rules on the website like I did a million times. The National Archives are where the original (we didn't see the map on the back...) Declaration of Independence is kept, along with the Bill of Rights and the Magna Carta. The room looks very similar to that used in the Nick Cage movie whose name escapes me right now, but was not nearly as bright. It was actually hard to see because of how dim it was. I had to pull my glasses back out and almost got body slammed by a guard. Those American History people are strict. National Treasure. That's the Nick Cage movie.

 We didn't have a lot of time at the Archives because Matt was there for a conference, so after seeing the Constitution - he went conferencing and I just went. My first stop was the National Gallery of Art. I took pictures of things that I thought Matt might like to see and things that I thought were pretty. Enjoy:

I wish I could tell you more about the pictures above, but I can't. It has simply been too long and I have other things on my mind. I really enjoyed seeing the Rodins and more than a few Degas. Though the Degas may have been a little pervy for me. I'm not sure that I would have let my fourteen-year old daughter pose for some of those pieces. I guess times were a little different in the 1800's, but that wouldn't fly now.

One thing that I thought was interesting is that artists can go to the museum and actually look at an original masterpiece while they were attempting to copy it. I wish I could paint well. I may spend some time with Bob Ross while we are in Tallahassee and I have no friends or social life.

 Oh, oh! There it is. A real Monet. I don't know why I like Monet's works so much, but I do. Claude makes me want to go to France to see what he saw. Well, Claude and croissants. 

 After I got my fill of Art, I hoofed it over to the Holocaust Museum. I thought about whether I wanted to actually go to the Museum for months. Until I walked through the doors, I still hadn't decided. I knew what happened - more than most. One of my papers in law school was about past and current genocides. I know more about the Holocaust than I want to know. But I went in. 

I didn't learn anything new from an overall perspective. I did experience the personal tragedy of about a hundred victims. The museum highlights (is that the best word for something so awful?) snippets of each person's story during the three story exhibit. There was a name and a sentence. A name and a picture. A name and an artifact. Every thing - palpable or incorporeal - had a name. A person's name. The museum made me experience the horrors far more than any book has ever done.

Only guard yourself and guard your soul carefully, lest you forget the things your eyes saw, and lest these things depart your heart all the days of your life. And you shall make them known to your children, and to your children's children. Deuteronomy 4:9. 

 I am glad that all those people are having their stories told in such a tangible way, but I am not going back. I remember and cannot forget. 

From the Hall of Remembrance. 

 After the Museums, I headed back to the hotel to freshen up. Matt and I facetimed with Thomas and then headed to Madame Tussauds Wax Museum for drinks with the stars. Big pharm companies host events during conferences like this. One of the companies invited Matt and his guest to a grinner at the wax museum. We went, confused people with statues, and left. While we were there, we ran into a few famous people.

I helped George cross the river. 

Matt sat really close to another George. 

We left the creepy wax place to go to dinner with one of the dermopathologist (sp?) who has been courting the LSU and Tulane residency programs. When a patient goes to the dermatologist and has something removed, most dermatologist send the something to a dermopathologist to look at and determine what it is. Big groups court residency programs so that when the derm residents go out to practice, they'll send the somethings to them so the dermopaths make money. It's perfectly ethical. When I get to be involved too, chances are, it will be delicious. 

Again, I don't remember the name of the restaurant, but the dermopath that Matt and I like a lot (there are two that court LSU and Tulane) invited the LSU and Tulane residents to a private dinner at a hopping restaurant. It was fun and delicious (real size portions, by the way), and free. We were wined and dined and had a blast. My introverted self was exhausted after being at TWO social events, so we went back to the hotel and called it a day.  

It's possible that I packed a lot into my days because I was trying not to think about the huge chunk of my heart at home. I wasn't teary, but was missing my boy some kind of bad.