Sundays In My City: Ladies Love D.C.

Every time I go to a city, I imagine my urban life. I imagine my city-dwelling self, dressed in striped tights and hipster bowling shoes, heading to a concert in the park or my adult kickball league.

My urban self would know the best Asian-Tex-Mex-Fusion Taco Truck, and would eat her Wasabi Burrito on the steps of the art museum, just because I could.

My urban self would buy jewelry and sunflowers at the weekend Farmer's Market, after drinking espresso served with a sneer and a seven dollar prize tag.

My urban self, clearly, would be very wealthy, very young, and most likely childless. In other words, not me.

I am almost completely okay with this. Especially because my children are becoming old enough that I can take them into the city with some regularity, and soak in all the culture without all the hassle.

We always take the Metro into DC.

"MORE TRAIN!" cries Joel as we travel, missing it even while he is still riding it.

On Friday, we went to DC because Joel had an eye appointment at Children's National Hospital (no eye-patching--just bifocals). We used all public transportation, and thus had some time to kill. We decided on the National Portrait Gallery. 

My expectations were low. I just didn't think that Owen and Joel would be all that impressed with musty pictures of  Warren Harding. And yet, in the spirit of this eclectic city, the museum surpassed all expectations.

Three words: LL Cool J

 

Taking up an entire wall, this oil tribute to LL made me proud to be an American. Only in this country can LL Cool J, Willie Nelson, Lance Armstrong, and Martha Stewart be on the same walls as Thomas Jefferson, George Washington, and John Hancock.

Want to see more? Here's a link to the entire Americans Now exhibit.

It's this kinda stuff that makes me grateful that we live in the outskirts of our Nation's Capital. We are privileged to have these funky little wonders, just waiting for our footsteps, our widened eyes, our whispered, solemn "Wow."

You may laugh. But I tell you, in all sincerity, a city that celebrates all of our Americans--including those in Adidas tracksuits---makes me downright proud.

In the words of LL himself, "I'm the best takin' out all the rookies/So forget Oreos, eat Cool J cookies." 

I guess he's proud, too.

This is my first Sunday in My City for a long time---and I've missed it. Check in with Unknown Mami to discover images and words from other cities.