Papa Augusto, He waits, stands, hands behind His back
like an old soldier, policeman; watching T.V. after breakfast
(11:00 AM). The sun just come out, he pays it not attention,
His mind is on the horses (caballos); it´s Sunday morning.
He, Papa Augusto is waiting for the time, the moment we’ll
All go to the race track,– see the caballos (make his bet,
perhaps win a treasure chest–of some dinero [$]. He has
studied the horses all week, a long week, I expect. He even
whistled on his way to breakfast (perchance it means:
a big win).
(Hipódromo de Lima)
Papa Augusto, él espera, parado, manos detrás de su espalda
Como un soldado viejo, policía; mirando la televisión después del desayuno
(11:00 de la mañana). El sol acaba de salir, él no presta atención,
Su mente está en los caballos; hoy es domingo por la mañana.
El, Papa Augusto está esperando por el tiempo, el memento en que todos
Iremos al hipódromo, — ver a los caballos (hacer su apuesta,
Talvez ganar un baúl de–algo de dinero [$]. El ha
Estudiado a los caballos toda la semana, una semana larga, espero. El incluso
Silva en su camino a tomar desayuno (talvez esto significa:
Una grande ganancia).
Ahora, ahora él solo está parado, sus manos detrás de su espalda,
Por el televisor– abruptamente se aleja, se aleja y va a su cuarto,
Hasta la 1:00 de la tarde, a estudiar a los caballos de nuevo.
Nota: dedicado a Papá Augusto; y al caballo, Miss Saigon, quien ganó la carrera por mi hoy día, en el hipódromo de Lima. #897 16 de octubre del 2005.
Now, now he just stands, his hands behind his back by the
T.V. –abruptly leaves, leaves and goes to his room,
till 1:00 PM, to study the horse again.
Note: dedicated to Papa Augusto; and to the horse, Miss Saigan, whom won the race for me today, at the Lima, Race Rrack. #897 10/16/2005
Note 1: This poem, ‘Los Caballos’ will be added into the future book, “Images out of Peru”, which is in the makings right now. Mr. Siluk´s two books on poetic tradtions of Peru (‘Spell of the Andes,’ and ‘Peruvian Poems’) will be featured in a interview by Channel #5, “Good Morning Huancayo” on October 18, 2005, at 6:30 AM.
Note 2: Cesar Hildebrandt, International Commentator, for Channel #2, in Lima, Peru, on October 7, 2005, introduced Mr. Siluk´s book, “Peruvian Poems,” to the world, saying: “…Peruvian Poems, is a most interesting book, and important….”
Note 3: More than 126,000-visit Mr. Siluk’s web site a year: see his travels and books…!
Nota 4: César Hildebrandt, Comentarista Internacional, en Canal 2, en Lima, Perú, el 7 de octubre del 2005, introdujo el libro del Sr. Siluk, “Poemas Peruanos”, al mundo, diciendo: “…Poemas Peruanos es un libro muy interesante, usted debería leerlo…”
Death is in the periphery, unacknowledged, but it is a truth as certain as the setting of the sun. All of us will die. While the “how” is not up to us (under normal circumstances), the disposition of our body and our possessions are within our control.
Can you face it?
Sooner or later, you need to. Yes, the law does provide for instances when there is no will (intestate succession) but you may leave more destruction and confusion in your wake (literally) if this is the path you choose. But the law has given you an easy way out (again, literally), and this is through a holographic will.
I always imagine a hologram when I hear the term holographic will. In my imagination, I see a dead person speaking from the grave, telling the ones he left behind how he loved them, how he lived, how he wants things to be, now that he is gone. Kind of a love letter, and a confession at the same time; a bequeath, his last chance to be generous; an acceptance that everything is temporary and that he cannot bring things material, not one, to the great beyond.
According to the Civil Code, a holographic will must be entirely written, dated and signed by the hand of the testator himself.
To translate, the person writing his will must, simply, hand-write it, date it, sign it.
The beauty about this kind of will is that it could be a private affair – there needs to be no witnesses (in the United States, unwitnessed holographic wills are valid in 25 out of 50 States) – no lawyer or family, hovering and expectant, it can be in any form (a card, a poem, a biography, an odyssey) provided the intention to bequeath could be determined with certainty; it could be made with our without the assistance of a lawyer and it need not be notarized.
Are you ready?
Here are the things you should prepare when writing your holographic will:
1. A list of everything you own. Start with real property (lots, houses and lots, or an interest in real estate, i.e., co-ownership), personal property (cars, jewelry, stocks, bonds, shares), cash on hand.
2. A list of everything your spouse owns, if you have one, so there will be no doubt as to who owns what. You can now start to divide your property among your kin, leave your instructions, appoint an executor (and a substitute). If your will is a living will, you can also leave instructions as to what your executor should do when you slip into a coma or become mentally impaired. How long before they pull the plug? Do they pull the plug? Do you want to be cremated? Where do you want to be buried? Do you want a celebration? A cry fest? Your epitaph? It could be the littlest things and the biggest things and as long as you can write it, you can have it.
For probate (read: establishing the validity of the will), gather some of your hand-written letters or notes to prove your handwriting and signature. Bundle it up and tie it with a ribbon and leave it with your will, which should be in a safe place. Tell someone you trust where they can find it.
Part of wealth creation is wealth protection. Through a will, you will be protecting the ones that you love – from the State, from others, from themselves.
Write one. Now.
Men and women often enter therapy when they are suddenly and surprisingly catapulted into an obsessive love relationship with someone from their past. Especially if they are married, they probably cannot discuss this reunion with friends or family members, so they turn to psychotherapists for understanding and relief – and rarely find it there. Even single people are usually rebuffed by their friends and therapists, and told that their feelings are just nostalgia, not real love for someone they haven’t seen in many years.
Like their friends and family, their psychologists insisted that rekindled romances were mere “fantasies” and recommended that they “move on.” If the client was married, he or she was often advised to “find what is wrong in your marriage, because that is what you imagined having with your lost love.” This advice is not helpful to lost love clients, who do not want their reality denied or their feelings belittled. Very few of these men and women challenged their therapists, however; they simply never returned.
The advisability and moral issues of the extramarital affairs aside, my research indicates that love for old flames, even those who were separated for decades, is very real, and reunions can be long-lasting. For the last few years, I have focused on how best to educate psychotherapists about this different kind of romance, and I have sought to understand why ordinary people and so many mental health experts doubt the veracity and strength of lost love bonds.
One reason for this doubt, indicated in results from my “First Love” survey, is that many adults had terrible first love experiences; they have no desire to reunite with these people from the past, and cannot understand why anyone would want to do such a thing.
Another reason for skepticism might be because popular culture images of love reunions stereotype people who try reunions as chasing rainbows. Could films in particular influence how people evaluate the wisdom of looking up lost loves? What I discovered was intriguing: Hollywood scripts are more pessimistic in outcome than real-life rekindled romances.
My website members (www.Lostlovers.com) and I compiled a list of 120 films with lost love reunions in their plots. The oldest was released in 1939 and the newest came out in 2006. I found that a statistically significant number of these reunion movies ended with the lost loves still together: 102 of 120. But what fascinated me was that most of these reunion films involved unusual characters or situations that could not possibly occur in real life: they were fantasies, science fiction, thrillers, or musicals.
Of the 102 films with reunion happy endings, 43 were comedies, light-hearted movies, and “chick flicks.” These movies had contrived plots and characters with distinctive personalities, like Bridget Jones’s Diary and For the Boys. These were not ordinary rekindled romance couples. The remaining 59 films with lost love reunions ending happily were science fiction movies, such as Solaris and Somewhere in Time; fantasies such as Family Man, Forrest Gump, Raiders of the Lost Ark, and The Illusionist; and light-hearted musicals such as Gigi and A Little Night Music. So these 102 films with successful rekindled romances, out of the 120 reunion films I looked at, were improbable lost love fantasies — just as therapists had stereotyped their clients’ reunions.
The 18 movies that concluded with reunion breakups included Splendor in the Grass, Casablanca, The Way We Were, and Miss Saigon. With the exception of Cast Away, the films that end with the couples separating again are primarily serious dramas; their plots are complicated and more plausible than the happy-ending reunion movies, and they include lots of heartbreak. Surely there are movies we missed, but those we remembered and included had a clear bias.
Lost loves question their own hearts and sanity as everyone around them scoffs at their reunions. They seem like lost love film characters who separate at the conclusion of the movie — men and women struggling with lost love issues, obsessed, and conflicted. No wonder therapists might think that real-life reunions as a whole are toxic to adults and inevitably end badly.
Real rekindled romances (provided the lost loves are single, widowed or divorced) have happier outcomes for the couples than reel endings. And even for those who separate again, their love was real, not fantasy.
Mr. Morgan Carter, otherwise known as Staff Sergeant Carter, and still with the nick name was called Serge, was of Irish decent, and lived along the Levee, in St. Paul, Minnesota, until they tore it down in 1960, and then he and his family moved towards what the city called, the North End, and he joined the Army. Thus, he was now retired, it is May of 1980, and he’s been retired for only a few months now, and has taken a vacation in Phnom Penh, Cambodia of all places. He has seen most of the sights, in particular, the Grand Stupa in Phnom Penh, which he thought was impressive. And now he is walking along the banks of the Mekong River that runs along side the city.
Zuxin’s Aunt (Tuyen Hoang, sister to Naomi Hoang, Zuxin’s mother not married, lives in Phnom Penh, with her brother, Sun, where Ming still lives, as Zuxin has married none other than the rich man called, Mr. Jong, who once lived by the Tan Su Nut airbase in Saigon; and who had bought Zuxin’s home, and owns several boutiques himself, second husband to Zuxin).
In any case, Ming is out in the river with Tuyen and Sun, trying to catch fish, with a handsome looking wide and large net. Sun throws it out, and it sinks, and Tuyen lifts one side sun the other, and Ming is nearby to assist when called upon.
Morgan Carter II, is walking down along the bank of the river, the Mekong, daydreaming, his hotel is nearby, he was at the Russian Market, and did some more sight seeing, it is his second day, yesterday he went to the Stupa, and this new day, he sees three people fishing, one looks a tinge tall, taller that is than the other two, and he remembers Ming being tall, the girl that worked in the mess hall back ten-years ago-slim, pretty, long black hair, an eye catcher, he remembers her from the 611th Ordinance Company, in Cam Ranh Bay.
Sun points to Morgan who is walking towards them with a cowboy hat on, you can’t miss him, the only Irish American in town, the Midwestern boy is as white as rice, with light bluish-green eyes. He looks to Ming as a man in his late 30s. The city is not all that safe, Pol Pot is in the jungle with his terrorists, and has control of most everything in Cambodia, so she wonders is this fellow lost, or crazy; she expresses that anyhow on her face.
Most of the young men in the city are to her co
nsidered criminals with a form of desecration, if not self destruction, and going no place in life. (Sun starts to pull in his net, it has sank to the bottom of the river, and he is bringing it up and out, he feels some weight to it, so he knows he’s got a few fish in it, he rushes over to his sister to close the net, so the fish do not escape, she has now let a few wiggle their way to freedom, and for the curious, one can see them fighting over the loss, in the background, for Ming is walking forward to see who the person is.)
Now Ming and Morgan see each other clearer, and know who one another are without guessing, and they walk faster, smiles tell each other they are aware; she remembers him, he was at the Ordnance Company in Cam Ranh, for a year, and returned there several times when he was on his way elsewhere, he never was a compete stranger for yes, between 1966 through 1971.
“Is it really you Serge?” cries Ming.
“Call me Morgan; I’m a retired sergeant now Ming, no long a Staff Sergeant, just a plain tourist here.”
The wind from the Mekong is setting in, you can hear it.
“Come, we’ll go see Zuxin, she’s married now, married a rich man who lived down by Vang, down by Ton Sun Nhut Air Base, owns a few dress shops in Saigon, and they have a home here, and she owns a dress shop here in Phnom Penh also.”
For some odd reason they both start laughing, as if the stress of seeing each other had melted, and now they where at ease with one another, cordial, tranquil within a few minutes.
Says Morgan with an up beat, and excited to be seeing Ming, he always had an eye for her anyhow, “She can wait, I’d rather visit with you. What the heck you been doing all these years? Kind of a rhetorical question, only need to know you’re ok, really ok.”
“Morgan, let’s-you and I just sit on the bank here, the sun will be going down in a half hour.”
And Morton does. And they talk, sitting on that weedy and slightly wet bank, on a shroud, then she takes off her cloths, and goes swimming, gets into the water up to just past her breasts, “Come in Morton,” she calls.
He joins her, makes no attempt to touch her. Her reaction from previous experiences seems to have faded into oblivion, as if the wrong she was done, was paid for in full, and all her soul wiped clean, to the point of it not even being able to remember what she had to endure in Saigon, as if it never happened. Innocence resides in her bones, her thighs, it is how she became, the knightly figure for the strong woman , the one who would inherit the new age, the age of Aquarius on earth: she is ahead of her times; or perhaps one of a kind. The past invalidated, squashed, packed in and stepped on like a tomato, that turned into ketchup. Hence, give to the next man waiting, let him seduce me, if that is what he needs to appease his desires, his cravings, to pacify his inners, I am a woman, and then let us go on with life, and fight the everyday fires, I am thirty years old, too old to be fighting man and the beast inside of him, and trying to survive in-between for food, and cloths, and all the necessities of life. Give me peace, I will pay the price, even if my skirts get heave as iron (this is what she told her second self, the one in the back room of her mind, the one she talked to-now and then, the one, only she knew about, and kept her, her secret, the only other friend she ever had besides her, was God himself).
-Morgan is unsure what do, but his body functions aren’t, only his mind, and Ming can feel that. She has no friend to save her, like the last time (when she needed a friend and had none), but she knows, her friend in the back of her mind also knows, confirms, she is safe with Moraine, and he will protect her if need be, Morgan is a good ole soul; therefore, she will not refuse him, and she doesn’t. She faces him, while in the waters. He begins to smell her flesh, what he desires, what most men desire, asking nothing, but in his mind perhaps this freak chance is and can be, and was meant to be, a lasting romance, so he feels from his toes to his throat, and all those spaces in-between, this growing, and growing desire. She knows Morgan is a hard man, he has to be, he endured five-tours of duty in war, while in Vietnam. She will be safe with him, she knows, he is really quite gentle, she knows this also.
“Will you come and live with me?” he asks.
She is moved by his consideration and offer, it wouldn’t matter, and she is not after pity, but she does tell him about her ambition before she says yes, “I want to own some day a little, just a small dress shop, I’ve saved up $2500-dollars, a deal I made in Saigon, selling Zuxin’s house (she tells him this, so he doesn’t think less of her ambition).”
For some odd reason, it is clear to him why she is telling him all this, all this unnecesiary information, unless she had a deeper plan for him, perhaps them together, and he is close to forty, he is not all that young, but Ming knows he will be getting a military retirement, or is getting one, they, the solders, the so called lifer’s talked about it all the time at the 611th Ordnance Company in Cam Ranh Bay.
In all reality, she also tells herself: love is a decision, not just an emotion that needs to be fed like a cow. And it seems they have both accessed this. She also knows sat eighteen or twenty, such a decision if made much such a young mind would in most cases be immature, but at their ages, and their desires, it is not wise to wait if indeed it is made with an honest and mature mind, matter-of-fact, it is perhaps prudent, to not waist time.
“Well,” said Morgan, “I have $8,000-dollars saved, how about you and I getting that little dress shop together, and having a little apartment above it? We can endure this war, here in Cambodia, just like we did the last one, in Vietnam.”
No more words needed to be said on the subject, she shakes her head ‘yes,’ matter-of-fact; she shakes it until he has to grab her head and stop her shaking it.
She thinks (now staring into his bluish green eyes): life is not always so great, but if you can outwait the bad times, it comes in spurts, the good times will somehow reach you with an once of pure happiness. That the roads of life go up and down, and seldom are we in the valley of ecstasy, but there is a valley if you can make the journeys up and down the mountains, in search of it, most give-up somewhere in-between, and gripe about it up to the day of their funeral.
Ming would have seemed-to an onlooker-as an adult child; Morgan, at that very moment perhaps likewise: “Yes, yes,” says Morgan, “I seem to have been waiting for you all these years.”
That would have been considered the stupidest and most unclear statement he had eve made, had he not made it at that moment, at that specific time and location, and to Ming. He never made statements like that, it wasn’t him, and in consequence, it had to be as it was, a truthful statement, as truthful as one can make it, as truthful as one saying there must be a God, who else could have created all this.
Ming didn’t laugh, although Morgan after he said it, thought she might.
“I just had to get my act together, and then here you are, so simple, God makes things simple, somehow he does it, is beyond me, in all this earthly mess.”
You, the reader, nor I the writer, could not tell them this was not a magical God sent moment, they would have told me not to write it, to leave it out of this story, and so they swore within their hearts it was destiny, their fate to have met twice in their lives, both from oceans and masses of land apart, both meeting ten years later down the road, both meeting in a city ravished with war.
Today they are alive and well (Ming in her late fifties, Morgan in his late 60s), yes, they lived through hard times, older they are, but they have out waited the bad. Their last wish, is (when I talked to them last), was they hoped they both could die together, at the same instant, in the same place, at the same time, it would be a good elegy, they said, and if not, fine, they’d simply endure until they met the third time.
In the process of loving and learning
anything can happen, such as: no
peace or privacy, disgrace and shame
death- and witnessing of the dying,
the crying; those killed, and yet to be killed,
in the middle or beginning of their lives…
One minute of life left to go, few know
that minute and through all of it one has
only his or her body and soul; some doors
open, others locked, some suspiciously, some
not. Alone, then never alone, it’s how it is,
one day your life is slow, the next rapid.
At first you don’t think you can bear it all,
or only so much, then you can bear anything,
then it all doesn’t matter, it is like it never was,
happened, and those who do not remember die also…!
So the bragger stops bragging somewhere along
the line, -and then there is the hereafter
a reception, and you already know who you’ll
meet, and who will be missing, at least some.
Heaven fumigates all those who created stink
and tries to bring it through the back doors,
it’s not like earth, where you have to endure.
Why would anyone want to see Spider Man Broadway version if the reviews from critics have been harsh? Would it be better to just stick to the good ol’ big screen and comic books instead?
On the other hand, why listen to critics when their batting average isn’t that great? In fact, since Spider Man Broadway style is the first Broadway play of epic proportions, they’re just as clueless as everyone else when it comes to grand technical gestures that are being promised with this play. Their level of exposure to amazing is the helicopter in Miss Saigon, and Peter Pan flying across the stage in the Peter Pan, the Musical. This is the first time we see a super hero of the magnitude and popularity of Spider Man on the theater stage.
Spidey fans will love their favorite super hero no matter what venue or platform is being used, so expect this Spider Man Broadway play to be a huge success, and hopefully go on tour around the country.
As far as comparing the Spidey Broadway version to the movie version, this is not a good idea. First of all, theater has limitations that movies don’t have. Also, you get close-up and spectacular shots with a movie camera that you will never find in theater.
As for the benefits of watching theater, you have the stage, live actors, live performances, so the tendency is to get swept away by the whole experience. Everything becomes more real and tangible compared to a movie version. Imagine Spidey a few feet away, performing just for a relatively small crowd! This is an experience that no one should ever pass up. You will be transported to a place where dreams can come true. Nothing can compare the majesty and thrill of seeing your favorite super hero before you.
Thus, when watching Spider Man Broadway version, don’t bring any expectations with you. Just go with the flow. Let the actors, music, and set envelope you to a world you’ve always read about – the world of Peter Parker and how an unassuming, confused young man learned to overcome his inner struggles and find his identity.
Welcome to Washington, DC – The nation’s capital is a city with public museums and monuments galore, but also hidden treasures that should not be overlooked. Whether you’re in Georgetown, downtown, or even in Northern Virginia, and whether you’re alone, hanging out in with friends, or planning a romantic date, we offer suggestions for restaurants, bars and activities that will suit your needs – all on a limited budget.
For starters we list restaurants that offer a great value to go with exceptional food. Then there are some bars with good specials that you’d be crazy not to try out. We share some activities that go beyond just visiting the capitol building. We also combine some of our favorite ideas to create a “cheap date” guide that will make you look anything but; ideas that will help you impress you girl (or boy) friend without emptying your wallet.
Miss Saigon (3057 M St NW, Georgetown) – This Vietnamese restaurant is nestled among a few others like it – but none quite as good – right as you enter Georgetown. Look around the menu and you can find a filling portion of meat, veggies and rice for between $10 and $12. Our favorite is the Caramel Chicken with Ginger in a Clay Pot, but if you want to peruse the entire menu, you can check it out here thanks to DC Menus!
Tom Sarris’ New Orleans House (1213 Wilson Blvd, Arlington) – Hop off the Metro at the Rosslyn stop and walk a block south for the best prime rib in town. Dinner entrees cost between $10-$15, depending on how much meat you want, but you also get unlimited trips to the salad bar, and it’s no ordinary salad bar. The Steamboat-shaped bar has over 30 salad toppings, 7 dressings and piles of warm bread. Be careful or you won’t be hungry when your slate of prime rib arrives. You’d really miss out on a great value for an excellent cut of meat. The atmosphere is certainly memorable as well. Inside there are no windows, which allows the ornate decor to lead you to believe you are actually on Bourbon Street in New Orleans!
Bangkok Bistro (3251 Prospect St NW, Georgetown) – Find all the classic Thai foods at this hip Georgetown joint. Start with a Thai Iced Tea for a sweeter and creamier version of the traditional (they add half ‘n’ half). Then you can choose one of multiple dinner entrees for under $10 – and they all begin with a salad and your choice of tangerine vinaigrette, peanut, or creamy garlic dressing (I suggest the peanut – you are in a Thai restaurant). If you are in the mood to splurge, try sharing the Sweet Surrender (fried coconut Shrimp). Want something that’s not too crazy? The Thai BBQ Chicken has received rave reviews. And of course if you just don’t know what to pick, you can’t go wrong with the Pad Thai.
Ollie’s Trolley (12th and E St NW, Downtown) – If you’re downtown and craving greasy goodness, Ollie’s is the place to go. Easy to pick out by the bright red and yellow décor on the windows and happy chef cutout welcoming you in, the atmosphere on the inside is just as laid-back and fun. The famous “Olliefries,” French fries with Ollie’s secret seasoning, are a sure crowd pleaser. Match them with a beefy burger and a thick milkshake.
Rock Bottom (4238 Wilson Blvd, Ballston Mall, Arlington) – Sure it’s a chain, but their selection of microbrews and nightly specials make it quite the local hangout. Get there early on Wednesday nights to take advantage of $1 pints! But be prepared, because by 6pm, the bar will be packed. Four “usuals” and four specials provide enough selection for everyone’s palate, from the light to dark drinkers and all those in between. And odd as it may seem to drink at the mall, we can’t complain – it just makes it that much easier to get to! You can park in the Ballston Mall garage or take the metro to Ballston exit, which leads you directly into the mall.
Tom-Tom (The strip in Adams Morgan) – Adams Morgan can offer some great deals during the week, and Group Therapy is one of the best around. This Thursday night special offers four beers and four (small) shots for only $10! As an added bonus, this bar boasts several old school Nintendos and Super Nintendos for those who want to recapture a bit of their youth.
Tombs (Prospect and 36th Sts NW, Georgetown) – Located in the basement below 1789, this pub, popular with the Georgetown University crowd, offers relatively cheap beer and some great deals on food. Busch light is always $1.60 for a mug, and $7.00 for a pitcher. The drink prices rise from there. For those with more sophisticated tastes, come to Tombs on Sunday nights for half priced bottles of wine. (This special is also available at Clyde’s on M street in Georgetown, which is under the same management.) If you’re hungry, stop by from 3-5pm or after 10pm for a variety of cheap food including burgers, sandwiches, chicken fingers, and appetizers.
Morton’s (3251 Prospect St NW, Georgetown and 1050 Connecticut Ave, Downtown) – Believe it or not, everyone can afford to drink at Morton’s, if you go on the right day! Every Monday is “Mortini Night” at this world-famous steakhouse. While this place would normally blow the budget, stop by the bar from 5-7pm for $4 martinis and complimentary (but small) filet mignon sandwiches. Call (202) 342-6258 (Georgetown) or (202) 955-5997 (Downtown) for more information.
National Zoo (3001 Connecticut Ave NW, Woodley Park) – Home to DC’s famed giant pandas and a host of other exotic creatures, a trip to the National Zoo promises some adventure and exercise without costing you a dime. Admission to the zoo is free (or at least already paid for through your federal taxes) and parking is $4 for the first hour, $12 for two to three hours, and $16 for more than three hours. You can also take the metro: use the Cleveland Park Metro stop on your way there and Woodley Park stop when you leave so that you never have to walk uphill! April through October, the buildings are open from 10am to 6pm; November through March, they close at 430pm. The Zoo is an excellent place to enjoy the great outdoors and get a break from the hectic pace of DC.
Drug Enforcement Agency (700 Army Navy Drive at Hayes Street, across from Pentagon City Mall, Arlington) – This small museum provides a surprising amount of information about, yup, drugs. The majority of the exhibit explains the history of drugs in America, from the introduction of morphine, heroin, and cocaine in the 19th century to modern-day techniques for fighting against drug trafficking. The most intriguing part, however, is near the end, where you can learn how to make crack (a surprising tidbit I did not expect the government to be so forthcoming with)! There is no admission charge, but the museum is only open Tuesdays through Fridays, 10am – 4pm.
Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center (Dulles Airport, Chantilly, VA) – This off-site extension of the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum (NASM) offers the perks that cannot fit on the downtown mall location. See an SR-71 Blackbird, the Enterprise Space Shuttle and an Air France Concorde all in the same place. You can also ascend to the observation tower and watch the planes depart and land at Dulles Int’l Airport. Doors are open 10am to 5:30pm seven days a week. Admission is free, but it’s $12 to park. You can also take the NASM shuttle from the downtown mall museum for $12/ride (or less if you buy more tickets). The shuttle departs every 1.5 hours from 9am – 5pm.
Ice Skate on the Downtown Mall (700 Constitution Ave, in the Sculpture Garden, Downtown) – A fun activity to get outdoors on an otherwise wintry day, the National Gallery of Art maintains a skating rink off the downtown mall from November through mid-March. Skating for two hours costs $7 ($6 with a Student ID); if you don’t own ice skates, you can rent them for $3; and it is $0.50 to rent a locker for your shoes and wallets (plus a $5 deposit). The skating rink is easily accessible from the Archives-Navy Memorial and Gallery Place metro stops.
Canoe the Potomac (Jack’s Boats, 3500 K St NW under Key Bridge, Georgetown) – Take K Street until it ends, right under Key Bridge, and you will see a hut on your left called Jack’s Boats. Here you can rent a canoe or kayak, depending on your energy level, and spend a warm day floating across the Potomac. You can also paddle over to Roosevelt Island to do some exploring and get seemingly lost by venturing off the beaten paths. The prices at Jack’s Boats range from $8 for an hour to $25 for all day and make sure you bring cash because they do not take credit cards.
Bike Along the C&O Canal (Fletcher’s Boathouse, 4940 Canal Rd at Reservoir Rd, Georgetown) – If you want to get a bit off the beaten path, Fletcher’s Boathouse offers the best rates for bike rentals ($8 for 2 hours or $12 for the day) and also access to the best route – right along the C&O Canal. You and your significant other can take the path north, into the wilderness, and admire the beautiful scenery that you wouldn’t expect to find so close to the city (I suggest early fall, when the leaves are starting to change) and a history of the “locks” that guided boats through the canal; or south, into the heart of DC, and tour the monuments on bicycle and stop off on a patch of grass near the Potomac to admire the view. Not that you’d want to go in the dead of winter, but Fletchers is only open March through Fall. Get directions here.
Benihana (M Street and Wisconsin, on the bottom floor of the Georgetown Park Mall, Georgetown) – While this Hibachi restaurant is normally a place that can get pretty pricey, they offer a great early bird special before 7:30pm. Unlike most early bird specials, this one offers plenty of great food and very few senior citizens. For $12.95 you’ll have a choice of several entrees which the chef will grill right before you as well as a soup, salad, and appetizer. The tropical drinks can be on the more expensive side but can be a fun splurge. If by some chance you’re still hungry after dinner, try the tempura ice cream for dessert.
Chef Geoff’s (13th St NW between E and F Sts, Downtown or 3201 New Mexico Ave, near American University) – Another establishment with great early bird specials is Chef Geoff’s. Here you can get a 3 course “Theatre Special” at the downtown location every day from 4:00pm until 6:30pm for only $23.95; or you can get the same deal, but referred to as the “Sunset Special,” for $19.95 at the location near American University. Why the difference in price? The menu selection and atmosphere at the downtown location are slightly more upscale. Check out the possibilities for each 3 course meal here. They offer quite the variety – from pork chops and salmon to fish and chips and pizza!
Thomas Sweet’s (3214 P St NW, off Wisconsin Ave, Georgetown) – If you’re looking for a good casual or first date but don’t want to ask that someone special out for another cup of coffee, try getting some ice cream at Thomas Sweet’s in Georgetown. Their ice cream is served at the White House, making this place is a DC landmark which offers a great selection and decent prices. The lines can get long, but this can give you a perfect to spend some time talking to your date.
National Mall (Downtown) – While it may be clichéd, a trip to the National Mall and the monuments can be a great thing to do with a date. During the day, pack a picnic lunch, grab some ice cream from the numerous street vendors, enjoy throwing a Frisbee or just sit and people watch. At night, the monuments are lit up and can be a great place for a romantic stroll.
The Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, Catherine Street, WC2B 5JF, is an un-air conditioned theatre in Covent Garden, in Westminster, London’s, West End. The current theatre building is actually the most recent of four theatres that have been located in the same spot since 1663, and this makes the Theatre Royal the oldest theatre in London. The current building was listed Grade I in February 1958 by English Heritage.
The first incarnation of the theatre came to light after the Puritan Interregnum, which was an 11-year ban on “frivolous” pastimes, including theatre. It opened May 7, 1663, and was known as the “King’s Playhouse” by many. The original building was a wooden structure made of three tiers, 112 feet long and 59 feet wide. At maximum capacity, it could hold 700 patrons. The performances during this time typically took place around 3 p.m. in order to make use of the daylight. There was no roof over the audience pit, which oftentimes left those attending plays at the mercy of the elements.
When the first theatre was destroyed by fire in 1672, the second theatre, named the “Theatre Royale in Drury Lane,” opened in 1794. This theatre lasted almost 120 years but was demolished in 1791 to make room for a bigger theatre, which opened in 1794. This theatre only lasted 15 years, as it also burned down in 1809.
The theatre building still existing today opened on Oct. 10, 1812. It seats about 2,237 people which, despite still being considered a large theatre, makes it approximately 550 seats smaller than the previous building.
Since its opening, it has been visited by Shakespearean actors, comedians, musical composer and performers and even the Monty Python comedy troupe, who recorded a concert album there. World War II forced the theatre to temporarily close and during the war, the theatre was used as headquarters for the Entertainments National Service Association. Although the theatre suffered minor bomb damage, it reopened in 1946 with Noel Coward’s “Pacific 1860.”
Since the war, it has produced mainly musical theatre, including several Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals including “Oklahoma!” In 1946, “South Pacific” in 1951 and “The King and I” in 1953. Other productions have included “My Fair Lady,” which had a five-year run beginning in 1958; “42nd Street” from 1984 to 1989; Miss Saigon from 1989 to 1999; and, more recently, “The Producers,” which closed in January 2007; a musical adaptation of “The Lord of the Rings,” which closed July 19, 2008; and “Oliver!” which began directly after the closing of “The Lord of the Rings.” The Drury Lane theatre is currently owned by Andrew Lloyd Webber.
It is often referred to as one of the world’s most haunted theatres. One of the most famous spirits alleged to haunt the theatre is that of the “Man in Grey,” a man whose skeleton was found in a walled-up room in 1848. Other supposed ghosts within the theatre include the spirits of comedian Joe Grimaldi and actor Charles Macklin.
(taken from the book: “Where the Birds Don’t Sing”)
The Cage and the Stranger
Just when I thought everything was back to normal, in the process of leaving Vietnam, sitting in the packed-air terminal, going through three days of the military checking of this and that to see if I had any issues in the area of drugs, psychological or physical; consequently, putting me in one cage after another, separating me from one group to another, finally I made it, that is, I made it to the inside terminal, a feat in itself, –I mean…I was really warn out.
During the processing, one guy [GI] came up to me in the bathroom where we all had to piss in this container and give it to the Security Police at the entrance, upon one’s departure from the latrine, then they’d have it checked for drugs. If you had any kind of dope in your system, [god forbid] it would come out showing, and you’d have a long wait before you got that free steak in your out-processing at Fort Lewis
a man next to me a young [anxious] white lad, asked me to save some of my piss for him, that is, put it in his container, as he was holding it in his hand [impatiently]. I looked to my right, the guard was always looking everywhere, he’d start on one side go down to the floor with his eyes and up to the ceiling, or almost that high, across and up the other side, and continue doing that; then look outside a bit, and do it again. At the same time, as the guard was doing this, he’d grab the piss bottles of soldiers leaving the bathroom, and give them to another Security Police person and he’d take them away.
For the most part, there was only a few seconds to make such a transfer, if one was going to do it in the first place; that is, making any transfers of the liquid from one bottle to another. The Security Policeman, standing at the doorway, had firmly said, when each person came through,
“…if you are caught giving away you piss, you will be put in jail, along with the fellow you’re trying to help…” and we’d not leave this hell hole. I told the guy standing next to me, in a somewhat, panic, to move on, get away from me or I’d exploit him for what he was trying to do, I said this as the guard started to look my way.
“What’s going on over there?” The guard said [craftily], as he started to walk towards us. The man next to me [desperately] seeing the movements of the guard, put his hand under the other guy’s dick to catch his piss, and quickly maneuvered on over to the other side of the latrine, where there were parallel urinals. [I think the guard overhead me telling him to get away from me quick or else.]
“Something wrong Corporal?” asked the guard. I looked at the dope addict, slyly, and said no, just minding my own business. “Good,” he commented, “Then move on out of here.”
The other man now was on the other side of the bathroom, trying to fill the rest of the bottle up in the urinals, he needed to fill it up a little over the middle line, but now the guard was suspicious. When I left, I turned around to catch a glance; the guard was watching him directly. I shook my head as I walked past the gate to get into another processing area; I’m sure the guard knew the man was up to no good, but it was best to just move on.
For three days [at times somewhat bored] I went through this process of check, and recheck. I couldn’t even find any booze to drink.
Then on the third day I was put into a cage with three other GI’s as there were several of them. They were [the cages] as big as a small kitchen, possible 100-square feet. As they [the processing people] got to you, you would go to another cage, until you got through the whole gamut, three cages in all [to insure you were drug free, this process was started in the summer of l971, just prior to my leaving which was in the fall].
[Abruptly.] “Hello, my name is Star.” I looked at the stranger, he sat to my left, and actually I only turned my head slightly to get a glimpse, giving him a preferred profile incase I didn’t want to talk. As I looked at this stranger wide-eyed now, he seemed calming; at the same time, I was listening to the sounds of the airplanes, their engines, and the chatter from within the terminal, the sounds of walking feet, pacing feet, –pacing back and forth, just waiting to get on the flight, everyone was doing it but me, and here was this small man ‘Star’, youthful, inquisitive. I thought at the moment, now what does he want. Maybe he was twenty-one, maybe not. I was twenty-four now, had been for a week. He looked like he was built solid. He was in green-fatigue Army garb. Not dressy at all but kept, no rank, no anything signifying who he was. I wasn’t much for talking, but I guess I could be friendly I thought.
“Hi,” I countered back, with a smile, hell I thought I’m on my way home; if he wants to rob me I could care less. I say that facetiously, for I knew it was not his intention. He was most likely boarded like me, having to go through all this gobbledygook bull shit.
He smiled [wisely], his face was smooth, almost illuminated it seemed, so clean looking, too clean looking, I figured he was not an ordinary soldier, maybe one of those undercover Military Intelligence chaps, but so what if he was –I thought.
He said [soothingly],
“I say–it’s over for you I see; the war that is, you’re going home I expect?” Knowing that was more of a statement than a question, I nodded my head ‘yes’, and smiled. At best, it was a rhetorical question, in the sense: — it was not a matter of if, rather of when, which was happening at this very moment. I got a little more composed, and asked [a little carelessly],
“How about you, I mean are you, are you headed on home also?”
“I’ll be back here, one way or another, I’m sure–it all depends… (‘Flight …’ some one said quietly.) Do you believe in God?”
I thought, man oh man, a preacher in the middle of the airport, maybe one of them you find back home; I’ve seen them all dressed up in old looking garb, like in the days of Jesus, sandals and all preaching around the airport, going into fast-food restaurants and asking for hand outs. But he couldn’t be one of them, he didn’t fit the bill.
“Yaw, I guess I kind of know of Him–” adding, “I’ve said a few prayers in my time.” Actually the only time I prayed was when I was young, and was studying to be an altar-boy, and when I drove drunk, and a few times here in Vietnam. But I felt I need not explain all that.
He smiled again, as if he knew something I didn’t know, or knew something I knew and wasn’t willing to share, he wasn’t snobby, or impolite, and I seemed to be in a trance as he continued to talk, and everything seemed to be related to a solitude with God. What could I say I told myself, I had nothing better to do today, and I wasn’t sure what they were saying over the loud speakers but it wasn’t let’s go, it’s 9:00 AM, but it was getting close to my time to get on the plane I knew. His voice was comforting, and tranquil.
Forty-five minutes later
[Bewildered.] “Excuse me,” I said to the stranger, as I got up and went to the counter asking why I wasn’t being called to get on the 9:00 AM flight, it was now 8:55 AM. She looked at me strangely [almost amused], then scratched her neck,
saying [as she tried to clear her throat]:
“Everyone is aboard airplane, we made last call 15-minutes ago; –it looks like you’ll have to take the next flight out, sorry.”
[Un-thoughtfully I yelled.] “What!” A few of the soldiers around the counter looked my way. “What’s that?” I asked in disbelief. Then settling… slowly calming myself down…I continued to speak:
“I mean lady that was my flight; I need to get on it [I didn’t stop to focus, and listen to what she had said].”
“Sorry soldier, it’s all secure, and ready to take off, you really can not get on it.”
I took in a deep breath of air, and let it out slowly.
“Oh well,” I said, trying to be cheerful, and then walked away. That’s what I get for talking, I told myself. The next flight was at 9:00 PM, I had time to walk around and get a sandwich and some coffee, they had a few carts with Vietnamese women selling food, and some machine venders. But as I looked for my friend in this somewhat 2600 to 3000 square foot waiting area, I couldn’t see him. No way could he have left, unless he decided to stay in Saigon, at this air base [Tan-son-nut].
Sitting Thinking Waiting for the Flight
I sat back down, got thinking how slow time moves when you’re patiently waiting; telling myself, this time will all pass, and be but a memory in time to come, you know, this was simply how it was [plaintively but true].
My mind now was shifting to a few days ago, I had met a gal with a blue dress on a few days ago, she wanted me to go down to her house in the city of Saigon, it would be a lustful afternoon at best, and if caught, a bust at worse, that is to say, I could get in trouble. Not sure what her price was, she said we’d argue about it later, she was a doll, big round breasts poking out of her flimsy silk like dress, a little like Frenchie, with nice sculptured legs. She came into the men’s latrine right behind me, she was a secretary to some Command Sergeant Major I believe, she kept on telling me we could do it right in one of the stalls there, right in the huge Air Force, latrine [actually who would know or tell, many women came in and left, all supposedly working– but I said no, it was too wild for me, but really meaning, too careless.]
Joe, my friend from the 611th followed me here to the Air Base, and was going to Hawaii, where he was going to meet his wife. He told everyone back at base camp, he was done with the Army, saying,
“Chick, don’t tell anyone. Make sure you don’t tell anyone, they gave me $2500 to stay in, and I took it.”
He seemed to be in a little panic as he emphasized not telling anyone, he even told me to ‘shut up’ about it a few more times, almost sorry he told me in the first place–that I was the only one he was telling [he was regretting–and here I’m telling everyone in the book, 33-years later]. I told him it was great, if that’s what he wanted; not sure what the big fuss was about, but I’m sure he went a cut the Army down from head to toe, and you know, that made it worse when you turn around a join right back up. In any case, he made sergeant, we were both corporals at the 611th; I think the extra strip he got was for joining. For myself, I needed to get out, it was time. He had taken a flight yesterday; I figured he was in Hawaii right this very minute.
Flight A102/9:00 PM
As I got ready to get on board the 9:00 PM flight, information had come back, seeping through the ranks, the grapevine as one might say, –it was that the previous flight had gone down in a storm before it reached Japan; sadly but true…
I stood like a stick in disbelief–
[With profound disgust.] I had to be pushed by the soldier behind me to wake up; I think I was in a daze for a moment.
“I was supposed to have been on that flight,” the soldier behind me caught his breath, “No kidding.” As I would find out later in life, this would happen once more; in l980, flying back from Italy to Germany, and back to New Jersey. I would take an early flight out of Italy, not the one I would be assigned to because I had gotten to the air base early, and they had several seats available, and asked me if I wanted to take it. I’d find out in Frankfurt, that the plane I was suppose to have been on, after my flight, went down.
In this flight [from Vietnam to Japan I was suppose to have been on], there were 220-soldiers killed; –in the flight from Italy to Germany [to take place in l980], over 240-soldiers would be killed.
Anyhow, I shook myself sober, and forced myself onto the flight, walking slowly, and thinking about the 220-soldiers, and my friend who had disappeared. I guess life would be boring without mystery, and so I left well enough alone. It was the hand of providence that rearranged things, not sure why, I was no better than another soldier, by far. Matter of fact, I was probably worse than most. But I knew I couldn’t dwell on that too long, it was just the way things were.
A Steak at Fort Lewis
As I was on the flight, going to Fort Lewis from Vietnam I knew once I’d get to Lewis, I’d process out of the Army, get a de- briefing, and be on my way home. It was the way things worked. If anything I had lots of time to think of the future. I started to think as the plane went over more land and water on its way to Japan [where it would refuel and I would buy my mother a beautiful opal necklace and earrings], and then onto Alaska [to refuel again], I thought about a reoccurring dream I had while in Vietnam. It was about being in the back section of a plane, and somehow the plane had lost its upper section in mid air. The dream never went past that [I had it several times]. Maybe this was the plane I thought, but I was seated in the middle of the plane not the back, it couldn’t be the same plane, or dream. Funny what you think when information is constantly being processed in your brain.
Two hundred soldiers dead in a flight, a preacher of sorts talked me into missing a plane. I was about to process out of the Army. The dream may have been right, the plane I was meant to be on went down, and possible I would have been in the back, like my dream indicated. It never had an ending [my dream, as I have already said] because, maybe and just maybe, God tore that part of the page out of the book of life [After I would arrive home from Vietnam, I’d never have that dream again for the rest of my life, or up to this writing, anyway.]
War is never good, but I had really gone to Vietnam thinking it would free a country; what I had learned was peace does not mean freedom, for they had peace, as long as they did what the dictator told them to do, yes, then he gave them peace [meaning North Vietnam of course]. At best I felt, maybe a slice of Democracy with a slice of Capitalism could benefit Vietnam. I didn’t know the combination for them, what would work, and I’m not sure if anyone else did either.
But what I did know was such regimes did not give the people, [although in pretense they may have] peace with freedom, something they never knew in the first place, but it seemed to me like they wanted to test it out; possible something new for that whole part of the world in general. Why the world was willing to let a dictator hold this country in ransom was beyond me; –especially when the nations doing the squabbling were the countries that had peace with freedom. It was a time of countries domineering people, and in some cases countries domineering countries. Who was right and who was wrong would be talked about for many years to come. Wiping my brow, I sat back and enjoyed the sun coming through the window.
Maybe the whole world couldn’t tell the difference between peace for sale, and peace with freedom [sometimes we’re just too close to the forest to see the trees].
In my short life time, I have witnessed at points of time, where the whole world was wrong and one person right, it has been proven time and again. But I didn’t know if I was right or wrong, I just went by my values, I couldn’t violate them. And so maybe our truth is simply our values that are what makes us right and wrong. I don’t know, in any case I was glad to be going home.
I looked at a few clouds outside of my port hole in the plane; it looked like a cluster of candy frost. I liked it. Still no birds though. [I hesitantly looked at a number of faces in the seats, some sleeping, some tired, some couldn’t sleep, but all happy to be getting out of Vietnam, I think.]
My mind started shifting into day-dream mode again.
I think all my friends in Vietnam would not have minded dying for that reason alone, that is, peace with freedom. I knew all the controversy back home was more on blind-sight, and hind sight. A bunch of people blind following the blind not free thinking. The very same way the government runs the war, the blind leading the blind.
From what I’ve seen, read, and heard most of it was showmanship, news on news, the spot light. We all forgot people were dying. We forgot peace with freedom. We all had our sins though.
The sorry feeling I always carried around was [although it didn’t bother me as much as my friends] was the naked fact we had no support, not by our own people, much less the rest of the world.
I got thinking about the steak you are suppose to get the last day in the Army, no, I mean, when you come home from Vietnam, I guess everyone gets one. I hope they are right.
I had also learned, –and thought as I sat on this stuffy plane, with all the body odor shifting around like in a horse stall, and believe me, it was enough to kill a skunk– no one knows you as a soldier; –that is to say, because while working in San Francisco, at Lilli Ann, everyone in the world knew of, or about Adolph Shuman even me, I worked for him, but here in the Army I was no more known than a ‘wino’ on Wabasha Street, in St. Paul, Minnesota. And I’m sure if Mr. Shuman would have been on this airplane with me, no one other than a few people on the plane would have known him. So that told me something for having a long career in the Army. But I knew I needed to get educated somehow and I would take advantage of the GI Bill now and go to College. That is what I had to do.
The world was changing and you had to change with it. To have a degree, and not be licensed in some profession, you were not in demand. Plus, I needed to learn how to be more assertive, and talk to crowds, and so I had a lot of work ahead of me.
When I got to Fort Lewis, I was given a big fat steak [and I don’t mean with a lot of fat on it], just like they promised, and some letters from the President saying what a good job I did, and from a few Generals and so on. I was also told they’d send me an Army Accommodation Medal in the mail in a few months, and then I was on my way to St. Paul, Minnesota, it took all of 24-hours.