George Washington breaks up a brawl in Harvard Yard, December 1775. Diorama at the Museum of the American Revolution. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Wednesday, December 27, 2017. Photo by Oliver Mannion.
We’re celebrating Christmas at the Blonde Family Cottage and Old Mother Blonde gave us tickets to the recently opened Museum of the American Revolution as a family Christmas present. We went yesterday and had a great time. We have some more visiting with friends and relations to do today, then we’re heading back to the Mannionville Ranch this evening. Tomorrow will be our recovery from travel day, so a full report on our trip to the museum with a photo essay by Oliver Mannion will have to wait until the weekend. Meanwhile, here’s what it says on the wall behind the diorama:
"Who that was not a witness could imagine that...men who came from different parts of the continent, strongly disposed...to despise and quarrel with each other, would instantly become but one patriotic band of brothers."
And here’s the link to the story that goes with it, which shows that Washington wasn’t just being sentimental in his farewell to his officers at the end of the war when he said that about their troops being strongly disposed to despise and quarrel with each other before they were molded into a band of patriotic brothers.
With the spring of a deer, he leaped from his saddle, threw the reins of his bridle into the hands of his servant, and rushed into the thickest of the melee, with an iron grip seized two tall, brawny, athletic, savage-looking riflemen by the throat, keeping them at arm’s length, alternately shaking and talking to them.
Gray Butte Trail, Crooked River National Grassland, Oregon. Cascade Mountains in the distance. Sunday, October 15, 2017. Copyright Erik Loomis.
Longtime blogging comrade Erik Loomis, historian and Lawyers, Guns & Money stalwart, is out in his home state of Oregon. Not sure what he’s doing there. I think he’s teaching. But he’s also doing a lot of tromping around, getting reacquainted with the landscape, and sampling the local craft beers. He can’t send beer but he has sent this post card from a recent tromp along the Gray Butte Trail in the Crooked River National Grassland.
Wish this was a more dramatic photo with all the flags waving together in the breeze, but the breeze and the flags and my camera couldn’t coordinate. In case you can’t make the first three out, these are, from left to right, the flags of Puerto Rico, Texas, and Mexico, with the Stars and Stripes at the end of the line, flying, as any good Scout will tell you, as it should, a little higher than the others. They’re not being flown by the Subway. They belong to the owner of a little Mexican restaurant in the same building. Bobby Burrito. (There’s a Chinese take-out in there too.) That’s the owner getting into his truck underneath the Puerto Rican flag. He told me, shyly but proudly, that he ordered the flags from an online supplier. I didn’t think to ask him if he has Florida and Nevada flags on the way. I didn’t have time to get a burrito tonight, but I promised to come by Friday for lunch. I’ll ask him then.
Something about this photo strikes me as Fellini-esque. I think it's the two belly dancers in the lower lefthand corner and the running cartoon skeleton behind the two cops and the way everybody is just going about their business despite the skeleton and the belly dancers, as if the macabre and grotesque are just a regular part of daily life, which, of course, they are...
From our old blogging comrade Mike the Mad Biologist. Taken on a stroll around town. H Street, between 13th and Linden Ct., Atlas District, Washington, D.C. Wednesday morning, September 20, 2017.
Our Mr President Trump isn’t the only one on a “working vacation” this week. Our old pal actor212 is at his favorite island getaway, getting away. He’s taking a working vacation in the sense he’s working on having a great vacation. Nice work, if you can get it. Here’s his note: “It's been a long day, up at 3:30 (17:30 now) two plane flights, carting heavy dive gear but I'm here on my favorite island at my favorite bar. Here's my view.”
This one comes to us from Cheryl Rofer, chemist, photographer, one-time aspiring astronaut, blogger at Nuclear Diner, and Twitter friend who shot this while on vacation out West back in July: “Yellowstone Lake from a small hydrothermal area on its shore. Absaroka Mountains in the distance.” July 17, 2017.
This is the rear window of the very new-looking Honda CR-V parked next to me at Barnes & Noble yesterday morning. I like thinking the owners are being ironic rather than aspirational, and they’re trolling any objectivists and libertarians who get stuck behind them at traffic lights. But who knows? They’re at a bookstore first thing in the morning. Maybe it’s a declaration of literary fandom. Hard as it is to fathom, there are people who like Ayn Rand’s novels as novels.
Barnes & Noble parking lot. Newburgh, New York. Around 9 o’clock Thursday morning, July 28, 2017.
On the north bank of the Mohawk River, Alplaus, New York, about 8:00 this morning. Sunday, May 21, 2017.
If you’re familiar with the geography of New York State, it might strike you at first glance as funny that, one hundred and seventy miles from the nearest salt water, on the north bank of the Mohawk River, not far upstream from that famous seaside resort town of Schenectady, there is a Capital Region Maritime Center. Calling it the Capital Region Riparian Center would seem to make more sense. But when you think about it…all you need to do is put your boat in the water out back, sail due east for about fifteen miles, steer hard to starboard just above Albany, follow the Hudson down to New York City, and there you are, out on the open ocean. Which makes this poem on the backside of the sign not just a landlubber’s dream.
So that’s what I did this morning. Drove myself and my coffee down here and, for an hour or so, in my head, I stole away to sea…
Our Man on the Scene for the March for Science in New York City was fellow blogger, Twitter pal, and regular visitor to Mannionville, Yastreblyansky, who sent this post card. Scientists love being wise acres.
Central Park West. Saturday afternoon, April 22, 2017. Copyright Yastreblyanksy.
It’s old but not contemporaneous. Probably dates from the late 19th Century. Washington didn’t sleep here either or, to be precise, in the house nearby. Teddy Roosevelt did, when the place was owned by his Attorney General, Philander Chase Knox.
Proving that not everything that happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, this post card made it out. Longtime virtual friend across the platforms Teresa Kopec and her husband, residents of South Carolina, have been traveling way out west. Teresa sent this one from a little frontier town in Nevada. No word of their losses at the black jack table.
Las Vegas, Nevada. Saturday, April 1, 2017. Copyright Teresa Kopec.