It is Sunday. April Fool’s Day. I awakened in my apartment at
the Watergate and looked out the window. Overcast and gloomy. Back
to sleep. When I awakened again, sunlight was pouring in.
I got up, got dressed, met my pal Bob Noah, and was off to greet
a perfect Spring Day.
First stop was the Freer Gallery. This is a spectacular jewel of
Asian Art and the works of the greatest 19th century American
artist, Whistler. Its design alone, airy, brilliantly roomy,
immense windows, inspiring courtyard, would make it great. But
the collections from China, Japan, Indochina, and Korea — not to
mention India, are spectacular.
It is attached to another great gallery, the Sackler, which has
more Japanese art and a fine gift shop. I bought gifts for my wife,
my daughter-in-law, some of the fine women who work for us, and
then Bob and I sat outside and basked in the sun and breezes.
There was a soccer game going on in the Mall. School groups from
all over came by. People were dazed with happiness from the
sunshine. Dogwoods, redbuds, tulips, azaleas, everything was in
bloom.
Then a lightning trip to the National Gallery to see the new
exhibit of Japanese paintings of birds and fishes from centuries
ago. Magnificent. All of this is free, by the way. It does not cost
a penny to bathe in such genius.
A long trip to the gift shop for more gifts for my wife and our
daughter-in-law. Then a conversation with a young woman
conservative from Grove City College in Michigan. She was
stunningly beautiful and extremely polite.
Bob drove me over to Georgetown. Families were parading back and
forth on M Street, looking like the happiest families you ever
wanted to see. So many happy kids with their happy parents. Again,
all free, except for the food. Better than any amusement park. The
real stuff. Not papier mache.
Then, pizza on M Street. I knew almost everyone in the dining
room of the pizzeria. One family was headed by a man who used to
work with my father at Slate. He was a blessed man, with
his staggeringly good-looking daughter and son and his very
handsome and chipper mother and father. Three generations,
apparently all doing well, all enjoying pizza on a sunny Georgetown
day.
Another family at the restaurant lived near us in North Idaho.
Yet another family also lived near us in North Idaho. Another lived
near us in California. Another had parents near us in Rancho
Mirage.
A school group from Kentucky wanted their photos with me at the
pizzeria. Happy kids, happy parents, happy teachers.
Everyone was talking and everyone was friendly and excited. On
the street, everyone was laughing and smiling and wanted their
photos with me. Is it OK? That’s what I live for.
Then, a drive to the Georgetown Safeway. I met a tall,
animal-loving model named Maureen, several doctors, a fellow grad
of Yale Law School, graduating a mere 40 years after I did. I
bought immense amounts of shrimp, shook hands with half of the
people in the store, then Bob and I went back to his car.
I am not sure I have ever seen so many happy-looking young
people in one day. And so many beautiful girls. Not PC to mention
it, I know, even though it is most human beings’ obsession — to be
beautiful or to be near beauty. And not one person was bragging
about money. Not one person was making cutting comments about my
politics. No one was trying to make anyone else feel bad.
I usually shop for food in Beverly Hills at a Pavilions
(basically a Safeway) where people do not smile back at you even if
you are right next to them in line and you grin at them. Beverly
Hills has the absolutely least friendly people in this country. I
am not sure why.
Then, back to the Watergate. I make shrimp, baked potatoes,
green beans, and salmon for my wife and me. It is supposed to rain
heavily tonight and tomorrow.
It was a perfect day in Washington, D.C. Just absolutely
perfect. Now I am back in my apartment waiting for rain. I don’t
care. It was a great day.
