Unintended Consequences

       Since there was no youth group for the high schoolers, we spent part of Sunday evening watching a video on ethics. A segment of the discussion centered on the fact that while it is wrong to do evil so that good may result, it is sometimes necessary to do good, knowing that there may be unintended evil consequences. I'm not sure that the fact that Drew will be nearly 18 before he gets his drivers license is evil (he might disagree), but it certainly was unintended as a consequence of our time overseas.  This situation would be much worse if we had moved to Nebraska, where 13-year-olds can get permits to operate off-road vehicles, and 14-year-olds can be driving the roads with an adult. Maryland’s age requirements for driving are some of the strictest in the nation, meaning that it isn’t all that unusual for a high school junior not to have a license. Of course, in Nebraska, the cutoff PSAT score for a National Merit Scholarship (2013) was 207, whereas in Maryland, it’s 219. So it’s not all roses around here.

Besides late driving, another advantage of living in Maryland is that we are close to Washington, D.C. This is helpful when trying to remedy another unintended consequence of the Admiraal European Adventure, which is the fact that our kids visited capital cities in England, France, Belgium, Italy, Netherlands, and Norway before they set foot in their own nation’s capital. On Friday, it was time to put matters right -- for Lucas anyway, his older siblings being too occupied with their scholarly pursuits to accompany us.

It’s only about 50 miles to the center of D.C. from our house. I had been warned, however, that Friday afternoon traffic could make our return trip last close to three hours. So we decided that it was time to conquer the East Coast train system, which is nowhere near as comprehensive and convenient as the one in Europe, but is, at the same time, much better than the one in the Midwest. I bought our tickets online, and was informed that if I didn’t show up on the train, my reservation would be cancelled and my money held for me in an account for future Amtrak use, a policy that seemed much more forgiving and friendly than that employed by CFF/SBB in Switzerland. Baltimore’s Penn Station is only 8 miles from our house, but to take public transportation was going to require more than an hour, so we decided to park the car near the station. This took about 30 minutes, which reminded us of driving in Europe. The drive from our house to the train station is one of my favorites, despite the slowness, as it takes us down Saint Paul Street (which the GPS insists on calling Street Paul Street). This boulevard is home to what have to be some of Baltimore’s most gracious and lovely homes, in addition to two university campuses and lots of overhanging trees -- way better than the (perhaps) quicker trip down I-83.

Delivering the donuts outside Penn Station. That is something we didn't see much of in Switzerland.

Baltimore's Penn Station

I had read online complaints about Penn Station being dirty and ill-equipped with restaurants, but it seemed clean and warm to me, the bathrooms did not require us to deposit a coin of any denomination to enter, and there was a Dunkin Donuts. I don’t know what else people are looking for. The train was a little bouncier than the Swiss models and we missed the mountain scenery, but within 40 minutes, we were at D.C.’s Union Station, in walking distance of some of the most famous monuments and museums on the continent. 

Proof that I am not neglecting the civic education of at least one child.

We started with the Air and Space Museum, which, like all Smithsonian museums, has free admission. We saw a real piece of the moon, the real Wright Brothers 1903 flyer, the real Spirit of St. Louis, and some real unmanned military craft. What Luc liked best, though, was the flight simulators (not free, by the way). I opted out when I saw that, though the flying is simulated, the spinning round and round is not. He, however, is saving his mowing money so he can make himself good and sick when we bring the rest of the family to D.C. The cafeteria in the Air and Space Museum is operated by McDonalds, which provided another highlight. 

After lunch, I asked Luc if he would rather visit the artwork in the National Gallery or take the long walk to see D.C.’s major monuments. When told he would be able to walk on the grass, he opted for the monuments. It’s about 2 miles from the Capitol Building, on one end of the National Mall, to the Lincoln Memorial, on the other. We saw the Washington Monument (shrouded in scaffolding to repair earthquake damage, but still impressive), the World War II Memorial, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and the Lincoln Memorial.  I had been to D.C. as a teenager, but didn’t remember much of our visit. I was probably looking for cute boys, not national landmarks. What struck me this time about Washington, after having visited several other country’s capitals, was all the space. This was clearly a city that had been planned from the beginning, rather than one that grew up over centuries and eventually ended up becoming the capital. 

On the way back to the train station from the Lincoln Memorial, we took a small detour to see the White House, as well as something labeled “Mile Zero” on our map. Mile Zero turned out to be the point from which the distance to D.C. from everywhere else in the country is measured, which was a pretty interesting discovery. The crowd surrounding the marker, however, was more interested in the goings-on on the White House lawn. They said, it appeared, and we’re going with it because it’s a good story -- that the tall man we saw running around with the dogs was President Obama himself. If so, I’m glad he got out to enjoy the beautiful day. There did seem something a little off about all the people -- us included -- being so smitten with seeing the president (maybe) from a distance and behind a fence. After all, we pride ourselves on not being royalty-mad like those crazy Brits. I remember reading last year that John Adams shopped for his own groceries when he was president.  Not that it’s Obama’s fault if he doesn’t swing by Giant on his way home from work. He’d cause a riot. And if that’s a little sad (since the President is supposed to be a citizen like any other), it is also just  the way it is. Brittany Spears would have the same problem.

I haven't figured out how to zoom without making things blurry, so this is as good as it gets. The tiny little dot might be President Obama. At least you can see that the White House is, as Lucas commented, "a white house."