My wife and I decided to spend a week in Washington D.C. helping to Make America Great Again. So far I’ve only managed to make myself fat again (or, I should say, fatter again). However, between bites, I’m doing my best to help the MAGA effort. I don’t tour the White House until tomorrow morning, so I haven’t had a chance to share my thoughts with The Donald. In the meantime, I’ve been getting the “lay of the land.” Here’s what I’ve accomplished so far:
First, I’ve learned that most of the museums make you hold your backpacks in your hands or wear them in front of you like you’re carrying a baby. Yeah, I know – really obnoxious. Of course, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut, so I asked the security guard why she was making me suffer this indignity. She said that people swing around and accidently strike artifacts with their packs. I started to tell her that while this might be true for stupid people, this should not apply to me. But she didn’t seem “flexible” on the issue.
The next day I went to a museum that didn’t have this rule, so I was able to wear my backpack like a normal person. Except the first thing I did was turn around and hit something with my pack. The worst part was that I was in the Museum of the Bible! THE BIBLE! I was knocking around precious artifacts in God’s Museum! I immediately thought, who’s in charge of this place? Why aren’t they making people wear their backpacks in front of them?!
Second, we visited the National Portrait Museum. (Yes, I had to wear my backpack in front of me like an idiot.) The big deal there was the new portrait of former First Lady Michelle Obama. As you may have heard from whatever flavor of news you enjoy, this portrait is quite controversial. Here it is –
People were swarming all over it, taking pictures in front of it, and generally having heart attacks over how much they loved it. I considered this visit a success in that I managed not to knock it over.
Third, we visited the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History. This museum isn’t big, it’s Ginormous! It’s like walking into an IKEA store, only much larger, and instead of kitchenware and linens, they have bones and rocks. Before you go in, I recommend saying good bye to your loved ones. You might never find your way out. I ran into a guy who walked in during a junior high field trip in 1973, and he’s still wandering around trying to find his way out.
Tomorrow we head to the White House to help make American great again, or at least swipe a souvenir when the Secret Service isn’t looking. (It’s not stealing if you’re a tax paying citizen.)
Carry on, America. I’ve got things under control here in the nation’s capital. At least as long as I wear my backpack in front.