What’s Better than Spring in DC?
Sorry about the missed post Friday. I was in the DC area for the Accessibility Summit at McLean Bible Church and spent Friday recovering from the non-stop flight from Des Moines to Reagan International airport and the shuttle ride the airport to the hotel the day before.
Because the flight was direct, I expected to see both Iowa Senators, all the Congressmen, their aids and Kevin Spacey on the flight. I admit to being a tad disappointed by their absence, but viewing the Washington Monument and the Capitol Building as the airplane landed made up for it.
I was pleasantly surprised to be the only passenger on the 9:30 AM shuttle other than the driver, too. Kinda like a taxi ride, only cheaper, I congratulated myself as he pulled away from the curb.
My perky Polly outlook took a dive when the driver picked up his cell phone and talked his way through several miles of the trip. “Never listen to our lead driver,” he admonished the person on the other end of the call. “He knows nothing. Don’t follow his directions. Just use your GPS.” Their conversation was cut short when the driver took the exit ramp, immediately slowed, drove onto the shoulder, and then put the shuttle into reverse to back onto the freeway again.
“Wrong ramp,” he explained before making his way to the next ramp and exiting again.
My heart raced until the soothing view of green grass, magnolias, cherry trees and forsythia in bloom calmed my spirit and lowered my pulse quite nicely. It skipped a beat or two at the sight of the rows and rows of grave markers in the Arlington Cemetery. It skipped a few more beats when a huge building came into view and my inner spy kicked into gear.
Is it the CIA? FBI? Not enought sides for the Octogon, and too many 90° angles for the Pentagon, I thought.
But a sign proclaimed it to be a Pentagon despite my skepticism, and for a while I was too excited to notice the seedy neighborhood the shuttle driver was barreling through. The neighborhoods and the scenery looked nothing like previous trips from the airport. I was just beginning to wonder if the driver was really an Octogon tourist and I was his hostage to get to Broccoli Obama when I remembered I’d only flown into Dulles International before.
Moments later, the Metro rail line construction zone near the hotel came into view, and I began to smile. The driver pulled into the hotel drop off, came around and opened my door. A warm breeze ruffled my hair. I exited the van with a smile. What’s better than a spring day in DC? I asked myself.
Right before I began to sneeze.
Photo Source: Creative Commons kmf164
