National Mall, Washington D.C.: Fowl Play

One of the first stops on my travels was Washington, D.C., home of the National Mall. Yet this wasn’t like any other mall I’d ever visited. There were no Sephoras or Forever 21s, no Barnes and Nobles or great deals in desperate clothing stores hollowed out by Amazon’s economic domination of the global marketplace. Instead, it was a massive outdoor complex of monuments and memorials. There wasn’t even one Auntie Anne’s or Jamba Juice in sight.

When you gaze upon the National Mall, it’s obvious how meticulously thought-out its construction is. For example, the Lincoln Memorial sits on the opposite end of the park from the U.S. Capitol, the home of our nation’s Congress. I guess “Honest Abe” just couldn’t stand being any closer to such a large gathering spot for his fellow politicians.

Interestingly, during my time in our great nation’s capital, I didn’t see a single senator or congressperson. I did see an unusual amount of ducks though, which begs the question: Who’s really pulling the strings in the halls of our national government? When pundits say we have quacks running our country, I didn’t realize they meant it literally. 

I rate the National Mall three and a half out of five ducks.

“Hamilton,” New York: A Finance Bro’s Worst Enemy

Arrogant. Prideful. A Chihuahua in a suburban mom’s see-through handbag. These are just a few of the impressions I had when I went to see the musical “Hamilton” in New York City. Much like its titular character, this little-known musical acts way too big for its period-clothing britches.

I found it puzzling just how many people seemed to like this musical. The theater was packed and the performance was frequently punctuated by loud and rapturous bouts of applause. Apparently, this thing has won 11 Tonys and attained near-universal praise, but I just didn’t see what the big deal was.

This musical has several flaws. First off, Hamilton himself is simply an unlikeable guy. According to Thomas Jefferson, who was recently contacted via Ouija board and subsequently interviewed on “Hannity,” “Hamilton is a radical liberal who wants to destroy this country with his socialist plan to centralize our banking system.” 

Now, because I’ve watched a 30-second Instagram Reel of a TikTok clip of a podcast featuring two shirtless white guys  talking about how awesome cryptocurrency is, I’m an unequivocal expert on our financial system — and I can tell you that centralized banking is the gateway drug to communism. 

Furthermore, this musical is rife with obscene amounts of historical inaccuracies, specifically their hairstyles. As a proud colonial cosplayer, I find George Washington’s unabashed baldness extremely unsettling. Where is his powdered wig, used to cover up unsightly syphilis sores? How am I supposed to feel pride in my nation when they don’t even use leeches and never-before-sanitized surgical tools to treat the injured on set? Truly a disgrace.

I rate Hamilton two out of five liberal agendas.

Random Field, Rural Maine: Paying Respect to the Senile Great-Uncle of Global Democracy 

This Fourth of July, sitting in a lawn chair next to a field in rural Maine, I got to bear witness to a time-honored American tradition: irresponsible parents giving their young children highly dangerous and flammable gadgets to celebrate our independence with, preferably in the middle of a large grassy expanse during the second-driest month of the year. This is America and everybody, no matter their age, should have the constitutional right to start their very own wildfire.

As the children’s sparklers filled my extended family’s and my faces with smoke, I took a moment to be grateful for all my blessings, including that any fire started wouldn’t really matter — because no one actually cares about Maine. 

Before I could dwell on the impending destruction of the Pine Tree State, the fireworks went off. It was spectacular. The sky was filled with beautiful displays of light and color rising from a resounding cacophony of snaps, crackles and bangs. It was truly a show that everyone could appreciate. Except for dogs and also probably a significant percentage of the veterans who sacrificed years of their lives to protect the continued independence of this nation.

From ducks with nuclear launch codes to musicals with historically inaccurate hairstyles, my travels throughout the easternmost states were interesting, memorable and (somewhat) consistent with the rules of fire safety. 

I give the East Coast fourteen out of fifty states.