The Eastern Sun: Part 1

Gabe urged me a few days ago to post, and at his request…here I am.

Actually, he has good reason for asking: I’m currently engaged in a cross-country trip to the East Coast with Josh Provost and his wife, Angie. 30 days 30 states? …Something like that.
We decided to all take a trip through America a few months ago, with the apex of our journey being Josh’s hometown of Franklin, Massachusetts (just outside of Boston). There had been a number of reasons for this adventure: Josh was planning on visiting his family; there were friends along the way he wanted to visit, etc. But the foremost reason for this excursion was probably me. Up until a week and a half ago, I had seen little of the world…actually, little of the country. San Francisco was the only real “city” I had been to. And while Frisco is a visceral, voracious place, there were still great epicenters that blotched the country like juice on a white carpet. There was D.C., Boston and New York City. Yes, I had yet to experience the East Coast. And to be honest...I was undecided on this trip for a long time. I wasn't sure if it was something I wanted to do. Actually, I was probably just looking for a reason to stay in Phoenix. But I found none. With the East calling, I agreed to hit the road with the Provosts. So there – you have the inciting incident. Now, as for the trip itself…

In order to get to the East Coast, we had to drive from Phoenix to Texas, traverse the South, and run up through Virginia and Maryland. Why didn’t we fly? Simply put, I cannot. I have a condition, and I’ll thank you to keep it to yourself. Besides, this route gave us a flavor of the country, be it good or bad.
Actually, it was largely bad. The initial drive, with destinations in El Paso, Baton Rouge, Savannah and elsewhere, was hellish. Texas inspired some of our greatest ire. I swear, never has there been a state so proud and for so little. Baton Rouge and the rest of the South was marked by an amazing, just as you pictured it, swamp atmosphere, but other than that it was largely forgettable. Savannah struck me as a decent enough city to whittle away some time, especially if you know where to go. The trip didn’t really begin till D.C. though.

Washington, D.C.

D.C. was interesting…in a number of ways. First, the people there are hilarious. It’s like the world’s glut of overachievers and bullied kids collected there and formed a playhouse. They all had places to go, things to do…in a very surface value sort of way. The majority of our time was spent at the International Spy Museum, a great place in no way connected to the Smithsonian or other state sponsored museums. Actually, the ISM claims to be overseen by former CIA and MI6 operatives...a claim I believe. There were great artifacts littered throughout the museum (I got to actually see an umbrella gun used by the KGB during the Cold War) and plenty of diagrams depicting actual espionage techniques. One of the cooler diagrams showed a pipe-bug used within a Russian embassy. Basically, the Americans put a bug within the water pipes of a Russian Embassy, which recorded dialogue from within the building and was then flushed into the sewer-system nearby for retrieval. While we haven’t gone to any museums in Boston yet, I imagine the ISM will remain on top for most of the trip. It was one of the better, more comprehensive, engaging museums I have ever been to.

Naturally, since we were in D.C., we also had to see some of the monuments and sites of interest. First off was the National Archives, where we viewed documents like the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. To be honest, I wasn’t as blown away by these as I had imagined I would be. They are incredibly old and deteriorated documents. Most of the ink is nearly gone. Far more interesting, if only for humorous purposes, was a letter sent to FDR by a young Fidel Castro. In the letter, Castro laments his poor English and asks FDR for 10 American dollars green because he has never seen it before. I found the letter oddly precious. The 10-year-old even begins the letter by calling the President “his good friend”.
Absolutely devastating was the Lincoln Memorial. We saw it at twilight…and it was quite impressive. The inner-chamber where the statue is kept was far more immense and elegant than even the chamber for the “Documents of Freedom”. You feel both puny and empowered within this massive room. Also great was to sit on the steps leading up to the statue and look out over the National Mall as it lit up to the rising night.

The day after D.C. we drove across the toll-infested Eastern Highways to get into Franklin, Mass. It was weird to hit places like Philadelphia, New York and Baltimore all within hours of one another…but that’s how close everything is over here.

New York City

The next couple of days, Josh was recovering from a cold, so we kind of played it easy. After he recovered somewhat, we hit New York City. My feelings on New York City are like those towards a supermodel: you immediately fall in love, partly because of reputation, largely because of surface beauty. It’s a guaranteed love, for nearly everyone. Oh…it’s such an ugly leviathan. I never imagined enjoying any place as much as San Francisco…a simple, grand enjoyment of just existing within its atmosphere. But I felt that enjoyment in New York City.
We were there on September 11th, so you can imagine the events going on in the city that day. It was crowded and somber. In Battery Park there was a memorial laid out for the fire fighters who gave their life in the towers. Eerie and simple, this memorial featured the boots of all the dead lined up along a patch of grass within the park. Some boots had names written alongside them, likely so their owners would never have to take someone else’s boots out of the station locker. Here, they stood as our only knowledge of the person who had inhabited them.
The New York City subway was also energizing. A shambles, the sub rickets along through the bowels of the city like some kind of virus working its way through a bloodstream. I wasn’t amazed by how sprawling it was, but by how slapped together it seemed in comparison to the Metro in D.C. It wasn’t about glamour…just getting there.

Boston

Yesterday, our first day back into Mass, I hoped onboard the commuter T and went into Boston without Josh and Angie. They were both still recovering from the trip to NYC and I was anxious to get a glimpse of New York’s next-door rival.
To be honest, I was actually a little unimpressed by the city…at first glance. After spending a few hours walking around, its character starts to seep into you though. Not nearly as boisterous or as in your face as NYC or SF, Boston is subtle and takes time to appreciate. Built on education and rebellion, the city feels mannered and hidden. Pubs line nearly every block and unlike D.C., the rushed here seemed to actually have reason for the rush.
Being built on education and knowledge provided an interesting bookstore subculture to the city…as soon as I was out of the South Station I ran into the Brattle Bookstore where I found several older volumes for sale at the bargain price of $5.00! Yes, Boston breathes a rarified book culture. Old and out of print volumes fetch high-prices in stores everywhere. From the bargain bin I fetched a thick volume of short stories by Rudyard Kipling.
The highlight of the day was hitting a pub on the outskirts of Chinatown (odd, I know). Its owner was a rotund Chinese guy with blunt manners. When I first got into the pub, I had to hit the bathroom, so I quickly told him I would order a drink as soon as I used his facilities. He replied, “Hey, you can do anything you want, just so long as you flush”. When I asked him for Guinness, he tartly said, “Nope! Don’t have it!” After naming some drinks, he finally piped up a “yep!” for a gin and tonic.

In closing, I have to admit; it’s hard being away for so long. I feel like my normal routine has been interrupted and I must create new ones to live each day by. That’s probably good though…I need some upsetting in my affairs. I’m also sure I’m starting to get on Josh and Angie’s nerves. Maybe I’ll need to hop on a commuter rail again soon and do some more exploring. Ta…

P.S. I'll post some pictures soon!