Gettysburg

While I was in the District last week, we decided to make the hour or so drive to Gettysburg to see the famous battle sight there. Besides Perryville, Kentucky, I had never visited a Civil War battlefield--and of course Gettysburg is the most notable, it being the turning point of the war for the Union, and the backdrop for Lincoln's most famous address.

The town is kind of a quaint, throw-back little square of old brick buildings, with informative little markers in every nook and cranny. Still somewhat thriving, Gettysburg has a small-ish liberal arts college (founded in 1832) that boasts Dwight D. Eisenhower as a former member of its board of trustees. It's definitely one of those "cute historic towns" that they pack with jaunty public flower beds and bed and breakfasts, existing as near-stage setting for the tourists who come to see all the old cannons, monuments and graves scattered about. And speaking of graves: the other notable thing about the town of Gettysburg? Ghost tours. LOTS of ghost tours. Gettysburg has ghost tours like Myrtle Beach has putt putt courses: there's one on every corner.

Anyway, it was pretty impressive out in the field. Aside from seeing big marble monuments rising up every so often (erected by the states who had troops involved in the battle, along with others honoring various regiments), you get the distinct impression that the landscape really hasn't changed much since 1863. There's still the sprawling countryside, low walls built of brick and wood, and the view of the Blue Ridge Mountains off in the distance. The National Parks service maintains the area, including the graveyard on Cemetery Hill, which is where Lincoln delivered the Gettysburg address after the massive burial of over 28,000 soldiers.

One other highlight from the trip was our tour guide at Cemetery Hill: he was spectacularly terrible. The guy was a summer intern for the Parks Service, and he had a peculiar way with adjectives: that is, he ruthlessly abused them, which had a sort of breathlessly redundant, hypnotizing effect. You would want to turn away, but being stunned by his relentless beat-down of the English language, your senses were dulled into submission. He would also randomly interrupt himself to make disdainful interjections about what he saw people doing off in the distance. This confusing blend of historical and social commentary was pretty jarring: "...and that's why you see many numerous amounts of graves with--can you believe that lady's letting her kid do that??" Wha-huh? The entire group would all turn around.

This may sound nit picky, but it was a rather long tour, and this notably bad habit of his was combined with a tendency to talk so rapidly (or, as he would say "quick and rapid and really really fast, you guys") he would run out of breath, leaving him to pant his way through his speech. It was exhausting to witness. I wanted to run away, but the strange ranger-wannabe wizard held us all spell-bound. His take on the battle of Gettysburg was that it was "really really [gasp] REALLY bad and [wheeze] not good. You can't even [gasp] imagine it. REALLY, you can't--does that guy think he can park here??"

Food Porn!

Readers, I interrupt my regularly scheduled lineup of historic ogling from my recent Washington D.C. trip for a look at what I had for dinner. The above is an image of what's been on my mind since seeing a certain culinary-minded popular motion picture: Julie & Julia. An early scene in the movie shows an almost pornographic sequence of the main character (Julie Powell) making, and subsequently devouring a stunning bruschetta. I saw this movie more than 2 weeks ago and that's the image that has stayed with me--not Meryl Streep's (predictably) lauded performance as Julia Child, nor the contrived emotional string-pulling of the A plot (or B plot, depending on your perspective and desired reason for seeing this film).

Normally I avoid movies that give a distinct whif of "chick flick," which the presence of Meryl Streep tends to invoke, but there was also a few other elements in play that ultimatly lured me in: 1. Julia Child Anything biographical is a typical attractant for me, but especially Child--her semi-mysterious work with the government, paired with the peculiarities of her presence, speach, and up-beat, go-getter-ness brand of feminism were all factors. 2. Cooking Theme Cooking has become a hobby of mine, and the basic premise of Julie Powell's blog is an aspiring foodie's dream project. 3. The Siren Song of Fame and Fortune I won't lie: I wanted to see the ins and outs of how someone was able to parlay writing a blog into some sort of career venture. Not that that is a personal goal...just curious...

Anyway, the bruschetta was amazing. I pan fried the slices of French bread (olive oil and butter) just like in the movie, but added some marinated mozzarella (melted under the broiler for a few minutes). Here's my recipe:

1. 4 slices French bread, about 1/2 inch thick
2. 4 Tbs olive oil
3. 2 Tbs butter
4. 2 cloves of garlic, halved
5. 1 lb assorted varieties of tomatoes, diced and seeded
6. 1 Tbs pepper
7. 1 Tbs course sea salt
8. 1 Tbs Balsamic vinegar
9. 2 Tbs grated Parmesan cheese
10. 3 Tbs chopped fresh basil
11. Mozzarella cheese

Preheat oven to 375

Brush both sides of the bread slices with olive oil, then spread thin layer of butter both sides. Heat a skillet and pan fry until dark brown. Rub with garlic.

In a large bowl, combine tomatoes with pepper, salt and vinegar--mix gently

Place bread on baking sheet, top each with generous amount of tomato mixture, along with a bit of the juices. Sprinkle with the Parmesan, basil and top with mozzarella. Bake on top rack just until cheese is melted--about 6 minutes.

Bon Appetit!

An Exhibit with "Pond-like Proportions"

The National Archives is celebrating its 75th anniversary this year, and in honor of the event has put together a rather, um, notable collection of artifacts for an exhibit they are calling "Big!" Included, for instance, is a 16-inch-long size 22 sneaker belonging to Shaq(!), and a stitched-together parchment that was the first official copy of the 1777 Articles of Confederation that measures 13 feet and 5 inches long. The fact that these two objects don't belong in the same room is not a subject that is brooched in the exhibition...standing in the middle of even more objects of contradictory purpose and meaning (and signifigance and importance and etc. etc. etc.) you can't help but feel like somehow there's a joke you are failing to get.

Anyway, I wanted to visit the archives for the same reason most people do: to run speedwalk directly to the rotunda and gawk at the Declaration of Independence, U.S. Constitution and the Bill of Rights (although the Magna Carta was an unexpected bonus!). I was geeking out, shoving myself elbow-to-elbow with all the other tourists who couldn't help themselves from snapping away with their non-flash camera phones in the archival-friendly low light. (hint: taking pictures of documents in low light under thick glass at an odd angle makes for a crappy picture)

Once I was able to pull myself together, I realized there were other, better lit things to see in this place. Notably (and I guess this is really just too appropriate for an exhibit called "BIG!") there was president Taft's infamous, 7-foot-1-inch-long custom made bath tub. The information card mentions that people at the time proclaimed it to be of "pond-like dimensions." At 340 pounds and 6 feet tall, the president certainly did stand out among his contemporaries, and it seems that everyone was eager to vocalize that point, making fat jokes and taking special note of the way Taft would "struggle for breath at every step," and how he "seemed mentally dull after large meals." Awww, doesn't Taft sound adorable? Sorta like some blustery, narcoleptic cartoon walrus who could influence policy.

Lincoln Life Mask, by Clark Mills, cast on February 11, 1865

This was a startling object to come face-to-face with (literally!). It is part of the Smithsonian's National Museum of American History Lincoln bicentennial exhibit, Abraham Lincoln: An Extraordinary Life. The exhibit is fantastic: filled with artifacts including Lincoln's personal belongings (such as his top hat, pocket watch & office suit), campaign paraphernalia, and some incredible photographs--you won't find any reproductions here, nothing but genuine articles. I visited this exhibit directly after seeing the new-and-improved Lincoln museum at Ford's Theatre, and it was a great follow-up.

Anyway, the mask above was created from a method known as plaster casting, whereby oil is applied to the subject's face followed by a thin layer of quick drying plaster paste. The sculpter, Clark Mills, used this process to make an exact impression of Lincoln's face just two months before his assasination. I think it's striking to see the actual face of the man, with no artistic liberties taken for vanity's sake, or to cover over the traces of strain and physical toll the presidency had taken on him. Seeing it reminded me that Lincoln is really the first president whose image was realistically documented thanks to the development of photography, a relatively new invention in his time.

This life mask was actually the second one to be made of Lincoln, the first was done in 1860 in Lincoln's home of Springfield by Leonard Volk. Volk wanted to make a bust of him, and so made the mask to use as a reference tool to eliminate the need for Lincoln to return for additional sittings. It's amazing to note the difference between the two, he seems to have aged much more than just five years.

Volk's life mask of Lincoln, done in 1860

Mill's life m

Summer Reading Roundup!

Well, although summer officially goes on for a few more weeks, I have started back into my final semester of grad school--now, as it ever has, it seems summer ends with the beginning of classes. So! That means it's time to take a look back at the books that made it onto my summer reading list, as well as discuss the unexpected, last minute addition...

While perusing the museum shop at the Smithsonian's American History museum, I happened upon the copious pile o' Lincoln books. I couldn't resist owning one of them, and decided on James Swanson's Manhunt (pictured above. Note my ticket stub to Ford's Theatre being used as the bookmark!), which, rumor has it, will be the source material for an upcoming movie adaptation (spoiler alert: Harrison Ford has been associated with the project).

Readers, I was unprepared for how gripping this book would be; it took all of two days (of which I was fully engaged in vacation activities) to get about 200 pages into it. Swanson tells the story in a kind of back-and-forth narrative, describing the unfolding madness of events from the perspectives of both conspirators and manhunters, 369 pages spanning about 12 days--he doesn't waste any of them. My highest recommendation; I'm not sure if it's just because of my Lincoln obsession or if this book really would appeal to anyone, but it is an amazing story told from a balanced point of view. you even catch yourself rooting for Booth in a few places ("No! don't cross the Potomac there! You're not in Virginia yet!"). Go read this book right now, Lincoln fans! Every American should be familiar with the players in this story, and this book fleshes them out better than most.

SO! Now, for the record, here is the official list of Books I Read This Summer in this, the year of our Lord, two thousand and nine:

• Who Censored Roger Rabbit? by Gary Wolf
  
• Post Office by Charles Bukowski
  
• The Madness of Mary Lincoln by Jason Emerson
  
• Star Trek Academy: Collision Course by William Shatner
• Mrs. Lincoln: A Life by Catherine Clinton
• A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson
• Pride and Prejudice and Zombies by Seth Graham-Smith
• The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler
• Trouble is My Business by Raymond Chandler
• Mr. Thundermug by Cornelius Medvei
• Tried By War by James M. McPherson
• Mailman by J. Robert Lennon
• Take the Cannoli by Sarah Vowell
• The Barefoot Mailman by Theodore Pratt
• Logan's Run by William F. Nolan and George Clayton Johnson
• Manhunt by James L. Swanson

There she is, folks--a very worthy list of heavy hitters if I ever saw one. You may use it to come to whatever conclusions about my mental state and/or personal character you like...I'm going with "blossoming Lincoln addict with a Postal fasciniation and tendency towards fantastic/tragic visions of the future."

Assassination Vacation

Readers, it's been another while since you've heard news from the Mercy Missiles front, but it could not be helped: I was out in the field, selflessly researching and gathering materials for your information needs/wants! I spent last week in our nation's capitol, and the above firearm--an object at once dainty and ominous--was one of the main attractions.

Pictured above is the ACTUAL Darringer single shot pistol used by John Wilkes Booth to assassinate Abraham Lincoln at Ford's Theatre on the night of April 14th, 1865. Longtime readers may remember that Mary Todd Lincoln is a particular interest of mine, but with all the Lincoln hubbub this year--due to the bicentennial of his birth--I've widened the scope of my obsession to include all things Lincoln.

Ford's Theatre was what I was especially excited about visiting last week: it's been under reconstruction, just recently reopening its downstairs museum last month, and chief among the artifacts was Booth's pistol. It's well worth a visit, even if you are only a casual Lincoln fan, as it is yet another spot in the district where one can view the actual objects used by and belonging to the most notable players in American history. Ours is a young enough country--we sometimes forget--that the most tactile ephemera (the contents of Booth's pockets when he was captured, for instance) survives, and can be experienced (and gawked at!) as a direct link to past events.

I'll be posting more about my trip in the coming days--I was able to pack a lot of historic ogling into one short week (ask me about the day I saw--in person--the flipside of the nickel! W-O-W!)...

Saturday on the Ohio River

Okay, well I wasn't literally ON the Ohio River (it takes a pretty big boat to ensure myself that I'm not too close to this infamously dirty, local joke springboard. As a kid you grow up hearing about deadly rip currents dragging some unlucky schmuck down to a muddy death, 3-eyed mutant fish and other miscellaneous horrors of the deep...), but I was as close as you can get. Yesterday my friend Ellanna and I rode our bicycles along part of what will someday be an epic bike trail that will encircle the city. An ambitious project begun by our esteemed metro city mayor, Jerry Abramson, it's officially dubbed The Louisville Loop--unofficially we call it The Jerry-Go-Round.

I have to say, I was really impressed with this city project. It hasn't gotten a lot of press (which may actually be a good thing--it needs to avoid local recession angst and partisan bitchery until it gets completed), but it'll definitely be one of my favorite things about Louisville. Unfortunately, many parts of the trail are not slated for completion until after 2010...as some of you may recall, Mayor Jer is going to be making a run for Lt. Governor in 2010, so...the question for the Loop is: "Can Louisville elect an idealistic, outdoorsy, park system-loving team player smart enough to finish what Jer started?" I certainly hope so, but there is the potential for an acute Jerry backlash that could put a project like the Loop in jeopardy with a new administration.

The Loop is a trademark Jerry kind of thing: it's big, fun, bicycle-related, and was conceived of and begun with no input whatsoever asked of the general public. Don't get me wrong: not asking public permission/advice around here is a very good thing. We have, afterall, not been able to build a controversial-but-much-needed East end bridge over the Ohio even after over a decade of debate, millions of dollars spent on studies, loud rabble-rousing from East end neighborhood associations (full of wealthy isolationists), and more debate. Lesson learned: talking to the public is really not an option if you'd actually like to see something happen. Jerry understands this, thus he does what he wants, following the best political advice he himself could give about doing business in Louisville, KY: never ask permission and only ask forgiveness when you really, really have to. If you think this is political suicide you should know that, for the majority of his 5 terms as Louisville's mayor, Jerry has enjoyed an 80% approval rating. Yeah.

Riding that small section of the Loop yesterday got me thinking about our "mayor for life." I'm gonna miss that guy when he's gone; how many other city leaders put a priority on wacky pipe dreams like a bike trail along the entire perimeter of their jurisdiction? And do it during the worst recession in decades? That takes major chutzpah, readers, and I'm glad to have lived in a city that had a half-crazy idealist steering us in that direction--if nothing else, it's aggressive city planning with an eye towards terraforming run-down, ghettoized ghost towns into vast, leisure playgrounds.

I think this kind of talk makes me a fan.