the awesomeness of this story is only transcended by verte's trip
i went to d.c. during my formative early teen years. my mother, an american ex-pat, hoped to imbue me with a sense of patriotism unlike anything canadian's aspired to.
the city was quite nice. it was summer and the national capital served as party central for the nations 225th birthday.
i, however, was mired by a creepy disposition that i could not evade. this 7 or 8 year old boy with red hair was in line behind us at the toronto airport, a few rows away on the plane, in line in front of us at the hotel and spotted several times throughout the week at the smithsonian, capitol and whatnot.
its really too bad.