In The Capital

Since it's Sunday and I am in our nation's capital, but I haven't really had a chance to enjoy the sights, the only thing I can tell you is that I'm in a very nice hotel with an internet connection worthy of the Paleolithic era. Fred Flintstone would be causing a riot if he had to pay eleven bucks for something that seems to take longer to travel than snail mail. What if you are a spy, or a diplomat or are here to save the world? If you are in this hotel, you are screwed.
I'm here in an important mission, that's all I can tell you. It has nothing to do with POTUS (I say this in case the CIA and the FBI are reading. Hi, fellas!).
Which is why I'm not seeing the sights, but stuck in a windowless conference room all day.
We have to make a living, people. This blog here is a labor of self-love.
What I've seen so far of DC is the lovely Union Station, which is both a mall and a train station, and the tip of the Obelisk. Coming from NY, DC looks spotless clean and its avenues wide and roomy. Lots of tourists, and lots of homeless people. There are homeless everywhere in the cities of America and they always provide interesting contrast with the general impression of well-being in the most powerful country on Earth. But here in Washington, with all the big monuments to freedom and liberty, etc, with the White House and the Capitol looming around the corner, with an Abe Lincoln the size of Nebraska, the poor, unemployed, homeless do stick out like a very sore thumb. In fact, it occurred to me yesterday that they actually know it. They know their misfortune (whatever its complicated reasons) makes this place look bad. Not so great, not so fair, not so free.
And now, I'm off for an hour of fresh air before I'm back in the windowless conference room again.
Pray for me.