oh brother are you gonna leave me

Number one word during the tour of Independence Hall: compromise. The park ranger telling us about the drafting of the Constitution used it five times in the span of three minutes.

"Compromise and barter," was his exact phrase, describing how the delegates of the Continental Congress worked together to draft the document that has shaped America. Not everyone got what they wanted. Some conceded that the Constitution still wasn't perfect. All agreed that it would need to be changed and molded to deal with whatever issues the future held for their fledgling nation.

So how have today's politicians lost site of this? Surely they've taken a history lesson or two? Today they are so quick to jump on any little issue in a bill as a reason for voting against it. They seem to want perfect legislation to hit their desks before they'll approve anything. Compromise is a dirty word; a sign of weakness.

Congress needs a field trip to Philadelphia. Make them pass through security to enter Independence Hall. Stand in the hot sun for their tour to start. Listen as a NPS ranger gives them a refresher course in American history. They surely need a reminder.

my huckleberry friend

And so we come to what is, for me at least, the highlight of this trip: The Mark Twain House & Museum in Hartford, Connecticut. Odd that this would be so high on the list, having visited what most people would agree are much more exciting sites. But for me this is very, very exciting. My fiance is just along for the ride.

Mark Twain has long been my favorite author. I freely admit that when I was much younger (10-early teens), I latched onto this curmudgeonly Missourian because I thought it made me seem smarter. More mature. My friends could read all the Goosebumps and Sweet Valley High they wanted; I was a true literary connoisseur.

A funny thing happened during these years. The more Twain I read (and reread), the more I genuinely liked his work. My appreciation of his novels, short stories, and essays grew as my knowledge of history, politics, and literature grew. I advanced beyond Tom Sawyer, reading A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Innocents Abroad, and the classic Huckleberry Finn. I reveled in his wit and wisdom, loving how he seemed to have a quote for every situation. I dreamed of traveling the world, and maybe even writing about my journeys, as he did.

But the thing I began to admire the most about Twain (and when my family reads this I'm sure a lightbulb will go off in their heads) is that he wasn't shy about sharing his opinions. He shared his thoughts on what he firmly believed was right and wrong in this world, and didn't seem to give a damn if someone disagreed with him. His works shined a light on the human condition, illuminating the hypocrisy and injustice that is so often ignored. And he did this so well, that even now his works ring true. (Which is sad when you think about it, only because that means the world hasn't changed much in the past 100 years.)

Visiting the home where Mark Twain wrote his most influential work was for me a sort of pilgrimage. A chance to peer into the private life of a personal hero. To see where he worked, where he told stories to his children, where he slept-- at the foot of the bed, so he could admire the intricate carving on the headboard.

you can't always get what you want

I feel like parts of our vacation need a do-over.

The Washington Monument is still closed due to the earthquake last year. The Reflecting Pool on the National Mall was drained, and the areas on either side were walled off for construction. The Statue of Liberty was closed for refurbishments. Parts of Ellis Island were  under construction, making it impossible to access some of the walls bearing the names of immigrants. The ramps in the Guggenheim were closed for installation. The Museum of Comic and Cartoon Art is completely closed while they install their summer exhibits.

Disappointing, but I have to look on the bright side. We've seen more in just a few weeks than most people see in their lifetime. The forecast has been for rain in every city we've visited thus far, but we've been blessed with clear skies and warm temperatures. My fiance and I have yet to get into a fight, despite my penchant for becoming "hangry" if I don't eat at least every three hours.

And maybe all the construction and closures are a blessing in disguise. We now have very solid reasons for visiting these places in the future. If we had seen everything we set out to on this trip, we might not be so inclined to visit again. I'm not rooting for more closures and construction on this trip, but if they come I'll take them in stride.

You're never going to get a perfect trip, but so far our's has been pretty darn great.

they're coming to america

"Could you imagine being a kid in this city? You'd go on so many cool field trips."

My fiance isn't wrong. I remember the thrill of field trips when I was in elementary school, but New York area kids seem even more excited. Growing up in Northern Maine was nice, but beyond state history little of significance really happened there. We did go to Boston for three days in the fifth grade, but other than that all I really remember were a visit to the state capital in fourth grade, and a trip to the town bank and post office in kindergarten. Not exactly thrilling stuff.

But New York area kids... I don't think they know how lucky they have it. They live in a city full of history and culture. The teacher's must love it almost as much as the students. It's so much easier to teach subjects like history and art appreciation when your pupils can practically reach out and touch it.

This is especially true of Ellis Island (and to a lesser extent the Statue of Liberty). While immigrants passing through the Registration Room at Ellis Island is a thing of the past, the immigrant experience in New York is very much a part of the city's present. While walking the streets I've probably heard every language on earth being spoken.* New York city classrooms are no doubt a very real representation of "the melting pot" this country is said to be.

For those kids-- the children of immigrants or immigrants themselves-- Ellis Island must be the easiest  part of American history to relate to. It wouldn't be very hard for them to imagine traveling to a new country. To not know anyone outside your family (if you are lucky enough to have family members living here already). To find yourself thrust into a world where everyone around you speaks a different language. To find yourself torn between your homeland's culture and American culture.

Growing up an immigrant in America is probably still rough, but at least the kids in New York have a very real reminder that they are not alone. They aren't the first to make the journey, and they won't be the last.


*And seen every dog breed imaginable.

there's only you and me and we just disagree

Inside the museum at Gettysburg National Military Park, I make the innocent mistake of answering my fiancé's history question:

"So, Lincoln was a Republican? That seems strange."
"Well the party names of 'Republican' and 'Democrat' are fluid. 'Conservative' and 'Liberal' are more accurate ways of describing a person's political beliefs. At the time, the Republican Party was the more liberal party. But if Lincoln were alive today he'd probably have more in common with the Democrats."
My friend pipes in, "Yeah, now it's more about picking one or two issues, like abortion, and if you feel a certain way about it you're automatically stuck in one party or the other."

Our conversation was brief, and fairly quiet. However, a nearby woman overhears us, gives us an evil glare, and hurriedly shuffles away. In a museum dedicated to the country divided, I was reminded that we are still very much a country at war with itself.

I actually do wonder sometimes what our previous presidents would think if they were alive today. I'm sure they would all have an opinion, but none more so than old Honest Abe. What would he think of how divided this nation has become? Would he even think that the most divisive issues of today-- abortion, gay marriage, tax reform-- are worth fighting over? Would he be discouraged that a mere 150 years after the Civil War, we are once again at each other's throats?

Maybe America's legacy is that of fighting. Devoid of a common enemy, we turn to our neighbors. We fight because it's what we were bred to do from the start.

you're a grand old flag

If you hate American patriotism, do not visit Fort McHenry. Here you will see one of the most patriotic displays I have ever seen outside of the Fourth of July.

Upon entering the visitor's center, you are invited to watch a short film explaining the history of the fort. For those not in the know, Fort McHenry is the site of the events which inspired Francis Scott Key to write "The Star Spangled Banner" during the War of 1812. OK, now that we're all caught up...

The film includes reenactments of the battle, interspersed with informative maps to illustrate the movement of American and British troops. The story reaches it's conclusion, with F.S. Key finding inspiration after a long night of battle. The national anthem begins to swell. Then the screen on which the movie is playing dramatically lifts to reveal a view of the real life Fort McHenry, flag proudly waving in the wind.

Not being at a sporting event and having been expressly instructed to stand, I remain seated. There is movement to my left. Other visitors have stood. Unsure of what to do, I remain seated. Are you supposed to stand every time you hear the national anthem? I can't remember my high school government lessons. Did we even learn that in high school? My Australian fiance also remains seated, but not being American he has a legitimate excuse.* I slyly look to my right. Other visitors have also remained seated, but they are old and also have a legitimate excuse not to stand. The anthem ends, and the screen lowers to set itself for the next viewing.

I feel like a real dick. Clearly I should have stood. My only option now is to let my fiance do all the talking so everyone thinks I'm Australian. But then he starts asking me question which I must answer, so people hear my non-Aussie accent. I secretly hope they think I'm Canadian.

After walking through the small museum inside, we head outdoors and start to walk the park surrounding the fort. As we pass the visitor's center, you can see the window blocked by the movie screen.

"We should just stand right in front of the window with our mouths open," my fiance jokes.
I laugh, "No, we should stand further up on the hill and moon the next group."

I know I should respect my history a little more, but the movie screen is a bit much. And perhaps I feel that way because I was lucky enough to be born in the USA in the first place, and take for granted how easy my life has been because of this. My friend we are staying with told us how her mother, a newly minted American citizen, burst into tears when the movie screen was raised. She's English, but has lived in the US for over two decades now. Her life has been easier than others, but being an American still means something to her. She's genuinely excited to vote for the first time. Her husband is ready to buy a gun just because he can. They are ready to take on all the rights and responsibilities that come with owning this country.

That I can definitely respect.

*He was wearing a Captain America shirt at the time, so some people may have thought he was a dick as well.