i remember when i was 9 my parents took me and my brother down to washington d.c. for a week where we met up with some family freinds. this vacation stands out for me 'cause it was the one time we drove somewhere out of all my childhood vacations.
it was also 'down to earth' cause we stayed @ the HoJo across the street from the watergate. this was probably one of the first instances where my parents had to explain corruption to me-how sad.
as a sidenote this vacation also stands out for me because i remember seeing my first burn victim ever. it was a very scary experience, and in spite of everything my mother had taught me i couldn't help but stare. this is, of course, not the creepy or scary part. what weirded me out and is etched in my memory is that i remember seeing this kid at least 3 or 4 times throughout the week. i noticed him and he noticed me, but all of the adults involved seemed oblivious<--needless to say my initial viewpoint on burn victims was somewhat skewed by this event.
anyway this one afternoon we finally didn't go to a smithsonian exhibit and instead went on a tour of the fbi headquarters to which my youthful exuberance, largely feuled by television, was quite taken with. the tour concluded with a demonstration of how firing ranges worked. one of the agents went behind the glass and fired off a couple of rounds--during which time his hair was blowing, as if it was windy. i was very intrigued by this and during the subsequent question period inquired as to why there was a lot of wind on the other side of the glass.
as if the answer to my query was common knowledge the crowd, and there were probably a few hundred people in the crowd, erupted in laughter, and the agent mumbled something about ventilation systems which i, of course, did not understand. when they all laughed at me i kinda got upset-i asked my father and he barely remembered it, but he did recall me being pissed off for the rest of the afternoon.
this event also colored me since i kind of went home with the opinion that a large majority of american's had a great deal of knowledge about firearms and their detailed workings. i was also unimpressed with a culture that laughed at inquisitve youths.
well if anyone has read this far, or maybe you just skipped down to the end, i congratulate you--you got to share my inability to sleep or be tired or feel awake(what did norton say about insomnia during fight club). i am only exposing you all to my silly meanderings because i have done all the work i can do right now(i hate group work, i feel so dependant on people i don't trust and don't want to be dependant upon)
oh well. what can one do?
it was also 'down to earth' cause we stayed @ the HoJo across the street from the watergate. this was probably one of the first instances where my parents had to explain corruption to me-how sad.
as a sidenote this vacation also stands out for me because i remember seeing my first burn victim ever. it was a very scary experience, and in spite of everything my mother had taught me i couldn't help but stare. this is, of course, not the creepy or scary part. what weirded me out and is etched in my memory is that i remember seeing this kid at least 3 or 4 times throughout the week. i noticed him and he noticed me, but all of the adults involved seemed oblivious<--needless to say my initial viewpoint on burn victims was somewhat skewed by this event.
anyway this one afternoon we finally didn't go to a smithsonian exhibit and instead went on a tour of the fbi headquarters to which my youthful exuberance, largely feuled by television, was quite taken with. the tour concluded with a demonstration of how firing ranges worked. one of the agents went behind the glass and fired off a couple of rounds--during which time his hair was blowing, as if it was windy. i was very intrigued by this and during the subsequent question period inquired as to why there was a lot of wind on the other side of the glass.
as if the answer to my query was common knowledge the crowd, and there were probably a few hundred people in the crowd, erupted in laughter, and the agent mumbled something about ventilation systems which i, of course, did not understand. when they all laughed at me i kinda got upset-i asked my father and he barely remembered it, but he did recall me being pissed off for the rest of the afternoon.
this event also colored me since i kind of went home with the opinion that a large majority of american's had a great deal of knowledge about firearms and their detailed workings. i was also unimpressed with a culture that laughed at inquisitve youths.
well if anyone has read this far, or maybe you just skipped down to the end, i congratulate you--you got to share my inability to sleep or be tired or feel awake(what did norton say about insomnia during fight club). i am only exposing you all to my silly meanderings because i have done all the work i can do right now(i hate group work, i feel so dependant on people i don't trust and don't want to be dependant upon)
oh well. what can one do?
