By Tommy Obert, 5th Grade
Dateline: Alexandria, Minnesota, April 16, 2011
If you thought the excitement was just too much up until now, better pop some of the blood pressure meds – it’s family photo time!
[Sister Gretch, the supervisor, and brother-in-law Mohamed at the intersection of M Street and Wisconsin Avenue in Georgetown – otherwise known as “The Center of the Universe.” Gretch and Mohamed have lived in downtown D.C. since the Harding administration.]
We sent our D.C. host, Roy Gorena, off to work on Thursday to the Department of Labor, his last day after 40+ years [previously exposed]; we dined with Mark Brown, our most regular visitor to Vacationland USA, one night at the Carlyle Grand Cafe; and last night got together with our old poker group, now mostly a bunch of retired bureaucrats.
[At a Georgetown eatery whose named I have already forgotten. Shame on me!]
[From lunch, we walked several blocks to the hottest place in town – DC Cupcakes. Gretch said she had never been able to get in because of the lines. It was mid-afternoon on a weekday. The line stretched up the block, manned by power brokers in Armani suits and camel hair coats. We decided not to wait.]
[With Mark at the Carlyle Grand Cafe in Shirlington (a section of Arlington) -two blocks of fine dining on both sides of the street, and thus, logically a favorite destination for this reporter.]
[Poker night with the patriots who kept this country safe for democracy.]
We had a Crazy Dave Owen Alexandria moment at the American Indian Museum yesterday. We were sitting in the cafeteria and happened to start chatting with a woman next to us. We told her we were from West Central Minnesota. She said, ‘Oh, Alexandria?’ Crazy Dave says EVERYONE knows Alexandria. She was from Carson City, Nevada, but knows Pat and Patty McMahon, a retired couple in Alex. Unfortunately, we do not know them – Alexandrians?
[Not a Native-American . . . but she looked good in a suit!]
From the National Museum of the American Indian, we meandered up (or was it down?) the mall to the Smithsonian Castle and it neighboring National Museum of African Art. We were of the opinion that the latter was a great place to visit on a busy touristy week (the cherry blossoms) because it was a wonderful place to escape the ‘din’:
[Sister and big brother.]
[In our misguided youth, the aforementioned sister used to refer to my tushy as “the chair.” I guess this is what she had in mind.]
[From Mauritania, from whence came Mohamed.]
[Hirshorn Sculpture Garden.]
[Only one more to go (I think) . . .]