August 11, 2010: Washington - Neither Rain..., Capitol Hill Bermuda Triangle

Happily the weather was just fine (although back to the usual 36 degrees Celsius and super-humid) as I headed out to the Postal Museum. Being waylaid by inclement weather would have been too ironic, what with the 'neither ran, nor snow...' motto of the US Postal Service (which turns out to not be an official motto!).

I timed my visit to take advantage of the free tour, and I'm glad I did. Our guide was very knowledgeable and enthusiastic - you could tell that the postal service (particularly stamps) were a real passion of his. There were interesting artifacts from the different delivery methods: from trains (special post 'offices' on train cars, designed to pick mail up on the fly to sort and deliver with big hooks hung off the side to pluck the mailbags from the stations) to planes (again with the hooks to grab mail off the runway).

The early history of the US Postal Service was surprisingly interesting - as the colonies revolted against British rule they desperately needed their own post, since the British could open any mail and quell any newspaper reports about the revolution - there was virtually no other way to communicate at large with the public.

Later history was interesting too, particularly the development of rural home delivery. As my mother used to bring home some funny stories from her days of delivering mail on the rural routes I made sure to take photos of the funnier signage to share with her (like postal delivery workers who would open a person's box to find a note saying that they were on vacation for the week, so could they please feed the chickens each day).

After the Postal Museum I planned to walk to a nearby farmer's market. I'd checked the directions beforehand and drew myself a quick map of the streets to get there. But I'd ended up in that weird Bermuda Triangle (or Quadrangle) of Washington where the streets start quadruplicating around Capitol Hill: cross too far and you go from B St NE to B St SE, and if you don't know which one you need, there's no good way of knowing which one to choose. After slogging through the heat trying more than one option I gave in, got back on the subway, took a round-about route to the station next to the market.

Here follows text from the rural free delivery portion of the museum:

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Some Rural Free Delivery customers expected more than the Post office intended to provide. One carrier opened a mailbox to find a grocery list and request to bring the provisions with the next day's mail. A dime was left for his trouble.

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"Please feed our chickens and water the cows and the mule in the stable and if the bees have swarmed put them in a new hive. We have gone visiting." Request made of a rural mail carrier by a patron, 1912.

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Tina cans, apple crates, lard buckets, and other odds and ends were among the first rural mailboxes. These containers were often the wrong size and placed at varying heights, and some held remnants of oil or syrup that stained the letters. Rural carriers and local postmasters appealed to the Post Office Department to impose standards for rural mailboxes.

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RFD customers didn't hesitate to leave stampless letters in their mailbox, sometimes with loose change to cover the postage. Carriers also found eggs, butter, and farm goods left as barter for postage.

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Rural mailboxes are supposed to be for mail only. But some have housed bird's nests, and many have served as target practice.

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Early Rural Free Delivery carriers had to buy their own wagons and sleds. Carriers also were expected to use their own horses and pay for their feed and care. There is room for only one person in the sled. But carriers often were accompanies by baby chicks or live insects, safely mailed in shipping crates.

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Photos: Planes! Trains (the interior of a postal train)! and Sledmobiles! a display of international post boxes - why does Canada's seem like such a hulk?

August 10, 2010: Washington - Typing for Money

On my first full day back in Washington I stayed in - typing for money! A freelance job to transcribe videos about combating cigarette smoking came my way, so I spent the afternoon listening and typing. It was strangely satisfying to get down the exact words. After a while I worked out my strategy - better to listen to the end of one sentence and the beginning of the next, then pause to type it out, than to listen to a sentence in its entirety. There's something about hearing the complete thought that makes it too easy to just jot down its paraphrased meaning, whereas concentrating on incomplete thoughts makes it easier to retain the exact wording. It's like a realistic drawing - you have to ignore your generic mental image of what you think the object in front of you is, and instead really pay attention to it as a shape, drawing that, with all of its specificity.

August 9, 2010: New York - Travels Home, A Reading Marathon

Although bus rides can be frustratingly slow at times, they do give the opportunity for uninterrupted reading. On my way into New York I was busy doing a second pass on Jenn's novel about an ambassador to an alien planet (and almost got through it by the end of the weekend - if it were bound as a book it would be a brick). On the way back to Washington I polished off Mary Roach's 'Bonk'.

After New York City, Washington feels rather small and uncrowded in comparison. Which is a good thing, because it is definitely hotter and more humid. Back to my life of hiding out indoors in the air conditioning, with intermittent trips to museums to break up the days.

August 8, 2010: New York - Coney Island Freaks & Nostalgia, PS1 Contemporary Art, Risotteria

At my sister's suggestion, we went to Coney Island on Sunday morning. She had been previously and mentioned that there's a big redevelopment plan in the works, which could obliterate much of the classic, corny, nostalgic buildings and businesses in the area - so if ever I was going to go, this was the time.

I was not disappointed. It's both humble (a multitude of small, independent businesses and a community garden in an empty lot) and over the top (grandiose claims about the wonders of the freak show, towering un-used amusement park relics). The beach was huge and packed with eager sunbathers - the steady breeze off the water made it surprisingly comfortable in spite of the blazing sun. The decaying architecture of some of the original buildings was amazingly elaborate, with the kind of terracotta decoration you'd never see on a new building (after visiting the Building Museum in Washington these kinds of details seemed to jump out at me). Left to my own devices I might not have gone to the freak show, so I'm glad Heather talked me into it. It was impressive (crazy feats of sword swallowing, contortions, flame dancing) and funny. I was relieved that it wasn't the sad display of oppressed mutants I'd imagined it might be - all the performers seemed to be fun, hip people who just happen to have off-beat interests.

After Coney Island we went to PS1 Contemporary Art Center. It was bigger than I expected, although I should have expected that. Not only is everything in New York City always bigger than I think it will be, it's also fill a former public school building. Lots of interesting art inside, plus intriguing remnants of its school days, like wire screens lining all openings in the stairwells, presumably to prevent students from dropping things down (or, I hope not, jumping themselves). Outside was a fun installation with beach sand, balls, and hammocks - the hammocks were exceedingly relaxing.

For dinner we headed back into Manhattan to Risotteria, a favourite restaurant of Heather and Anthony. We made a brave attempt to visit the High Line Park, but were stopped short by a sudden downpour and our lack of umbrellas.

Photos: Shoot The Freak - where you shoot a person ('the freak') for fun (but my favourite part if the letter 'K' about to drop off); Lola Star, one of many kitschy shops; Coney Island beach stretches on forever; Heather and me in front of the closed Roller Rink; elaborate terracotta decor on the Roller Rink - the kind of detail that would never make it onto today's new buildings; a community vegetable garden next to the Roller Rink (squash looks kind of droopy - needs water!); kites fly overhead; the now defunct parachute jump tower; Frankenstein guards the roller coaster ticket booth; the coaster in action; the freak show; the Statue of Liberty in the distance (behind the Kars 4 Kids billboards - there are advocates that kids need cars?!) en route to PS1; view of the Post Office out the window of PS1; Heather and me in the hammock at PS1 (it could hardly be possible to look more like sisters!); the Chrysler building at night

August 7, 2010: New York - Animal Antics At The Bronx Zoo, Human Antics At The Gotham Girls Roller Derby

Since Heather and Jenn live in the Bronx, we decided to visit the Bronx Zoo, which is one of the bigger and older zoos in the country. Our friend James, who we used to see on vacation every summer when we were kids, drove in to the city to meet up with us, bringing his wife and young baby. It was quite the reunion - we haven't seen each since we were teenagers, which was half a lifetime ago.

It was a great day for visiting the zoo - cool but sunny (only about 25 degrees Celsius), and the paths were shaded by lots of big, old trees. The baby slept most of the time, although we all made out like he was entertained by the animals (I think he's still a bit young to recognize them as alive but fascinatingly different from humans). The highlight was probably the brown bear enclosure - four bears frolicked about, chasing each other on the rocks and splashing in the water. All made much more fun by watching my sister, who has a phobia about bears, who stood still with an appalled look on her face.

In the evening we went to Hunter College to watch the Queens of Pain compete against the Bronx Gridlock in the Gotham Girls Roller Derby. In preparation Jenn had us watch the movie 'Whip It', which was feisty and cute. And, just as expected, the roller derby was feisty and cute. It was a sold-out game, with an enthusiastic crowd, and just as many kooky personalities and punny names as I'd hoped for. Some favourites: Dainty Inferno (wearing flame-patterned socks) whose number was 9th circle, and Hyper Lynx (with cat ears on her helmet) whose number was 404.

On the way back to the train we walked past a building with an amazing green wall inside - turns out it was Phyto Universe, a salon. This was a bit surprising - I had imagined it would be a landscape architecture firm.

Photos: Heather, James and me; James with his wife and son; a kosher vending machine (I've never seen that before!); giraffes framing an ostrich; zoo animal gargoyles; a polar bear with geometric floating "iceberg"; bears frolic; a camel, whose expression is strangely familiar in the next photo, a peacock; the Bronx Gridlock team skates past the Queens of Pain at the start of the roller derby; the Queens of Pain bring out their mascot; a cheer routine from both teams; Bronx Gridlock's Dainty Inferno and Luna Impact; the medic Ace Bondage; Phyto Universe.

August 6, 2010: New York, New York

I had to take advantage of the cheap bus rates to make a weekend trip to New York City. I got on at 10:30 at Union Station and got into Manhattan mid-afternoon. The weather was noticeably cooler and drier than Washington - I was able to comfortably walk for an hour to The Strand bookshop where I was meeting up with my friend Jenn, which was pretty thrilling after dodging the sun for weeks on end.

I hung out at The Strand reading 'I am Legend' by Richard Matheson. Jenn showed up, and we went to a nearby cafe/children's bookstore to visit and enjoy some blueberry coffeecake. By the end of the afternoon we'd met up with my sister, and then went for dinner with my friend Gloria. I had a fantastic duck salad - a great assortment of greens (endive, lettuce, green beans, etc), all perfectly crisp and delicious, with an interesting mustard dressing.

August 5, 2010: Washington - Library of Congress, The Shakespeare Library While Lost at Sea

I'd had the Library of Congress on my list from the outset, since I am a fan of books. But it far exceeded my expectations. The building was incredible - the sculptures in particular were beautiful and had alot of humour - they weren't just generic classical designs. There was a series of putti representing the various professions and trades in America at the time, like a little boy chasing a butterfly representing the study of entomology - really captivating to examine them all and try to decode. Our tour guide pointed out a number of features that highlighted American achievements at the time, particularly those involving the (then new) invention of electricity. Our tour guide asked us to guess which metal was used to decorate the moldings on the ceiling, which was more expensive at that time than gold - and I guessed correctly that it was aluminum. The production of aluminum required massive amounts of electricity, elevating it to a highly precious status. How I knew the answer I'm not quite sure, although I had just read that the pyramid at the top of the Washington Monument is made of aluminum, so perhaps that was the clue.

The collection is also truly impressive - books, maps, music, artifacts - the list goes on. One of the highlights is Thomas Jefferson's original donation of 6487 books, made after Congress' initial purchase was lost to the British setting fire to the capitol in the war of 1812. A good portion of his donation was also lost to fire some time later, but they are now in the process of reassembling the original collection. The books are housed in a special display of a spiraling glass-walled case (which is, in itself, a beautiful piece of cabinetry). Original books are marked with a coloured ribbon, replacement purchases with another colour of ribbon, and books yet to be replaced are represented by placeholder boxes with the author and title indicated on the spine. After making the donation Jefferson started collecting again, saying "I cannot live without books" - a quotation which makes for a particularly charming embroidered cushion in the library shop.

From the front steps of the library there's an incredible view to the Capitol Building across the way, and the open expanse of the Mall. All the better to see the thunder clouds and lightning closing in. It was eerie to be able to see the storm moving so quickly, but somehow I thought I'd be able to outrace it. I was wrong - before I'd gotten half of the way to the Folger Shakespeare Library I was running flat out. I made it there without getting too wet, and then lingered as long as possible to wait out the rain. Another family came in just after me - they didn't look like they'd been planning on visiting, but were looking for some escape. Ironically the exhibit was 'Lost at Sea: The Ocean in the English Imagination, 1550–1750' - all about the power of the elements.

Photos: exterior of the Library of Congress; interior (note the statue holding a lantern with bare bulb, showing off the use of new-fangled electricity); putti; the storm approaches from beyond the Capitol building