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Raising Cain Across America

In June of 1998 I started The Grand Congressional District Project. I decided to visit every congressional district in America (based upon the 1998 Almanac of American Politics) as well as the four Insular Territories (Guam, American Samoa, Puerto Rico, Virgin Islands) and the District of Columbia for a grand total of 440. Like many great quests, this one is about much more than the above stated mission. It is about a young man searching for America, and for himself. Along the way I have had love, and lost love. I have seen life and death, pain and joy. From the green mountains of Vermont, to the sunny coast of California I have seen the mystery and majesty of the land called America. My great quest is now complete..

Below are excerpts from some of my many travels. I only recorded an entry if I visited a district I had not visited since June of 1998. Many of the districts I had visited before, many since. This was my way of seeing America. I recorded what I did, what I thought about and what new districts I visited. While I often reflected on politics, my reflections were often much deeper. I have written about religion, family, culture, love and yes . . . even sex.

Here are a few samples, randomly selected from each year of my journey. I would love to have my work published in a magazine or a book someday, but who knows, maybe in the end it will show up right here on CainPence.com. I hope you enjoy my thoughts…and that they make you ponder America and Americans as well.

08/03/1998

Having left my first job out of college after just a couple weeks, I set out for a trip to the Northeast determined to make it to Maine. I call Visa and have them extend my line of credit. Melville wrote that his "Harvard and Yale college were a whaling ship." Having just finished Moby Dick, I too seek the greater lessons from the road. After four years of studying political theory in Washington, I will now learn politics from seeing my nation. Armed with The Almanac of American Politics and The Rand McNally Road Atlas I plan on seeing the country I love. I headed out through Western Maryland and came all the way through Pennsylvania and stopped to visit the Jesuit University of Scranton. I liked the statue of the transformation of Ignatius of Loyola and the Scranton court-house in particular.

Reflection:

Americans are extremely patriotic. Nearly every town has a monument to Veterans and the courthouse in Scranton had statues to two of the greatest American heroes, Washington and Columbus. When one enters a town for the first time he should try and visit the universities, churches, courthouses and workplaces of the city. Why? To learn where the people of a community work, study, get punished--and pray.

Congressional Districts:

Maryland 8,6 Pennsylvania 19, 17,6,11,10 (428 Left to Visit)

03/10 - 03/14/1999

In the midst of tax season (I am working at an accounting/financial consulting firm) I head out of town with my girlfriend. We drive down route 1 and hop on 95 to 64 where we take it to Norfolk and then down into North Carolina where we take 158 to route 12 that runs all the way down the amazing Outer Banks. We hop the ferry from Cape Hatteras to Ocracoke Island where we spend the night.

Reflection:

The Outer Banks of North Carolina are amazing! Here, along these windswept dunes, the Wright Brothers took to flight. A fitting place for man to fly. Nature inspires the mind and Cape Hatteras displays before man the vast and mighty power of the sea. The ride down Ocracoke Island was spookey. It was deathly quiet and with no lights or other cars in sight the "Outer Banks" felt like another world. God's geography is amazing--but so is man's imagination. The Outer Banks unites the two.

Congressional Districts:

Virginia 3,4,2, North Carolina 1,2,3,7 (379 Left to Visit)

10/24/2000

California here I come! My old college roommate, Brian Mckeever, is getting married so I fly out to San Diego where the ceremony will be held. I take a couple days off to see the much-hyped Southern California which I have heard so much about but never seen. I fly into San Diego, pick up a white Mustang convertible and cruise up the Pacific Highway to Huntington Beach where I spend the night.

Reflection:

Wow!! I was truly blown away by the beauty of the scenery. The West Coast, with its hills and rocks overlooking the ocean, is far different from the flat lands that border the Mid-Atlantic region. Rarely have I witnessed a more beautiful setting than the sun descending over the Pacific. Every young man should rent a convertible once in his lifetime and drive up that highway by the sea. And hey, if you don't have the cash--put it on credit--I did! As I drove through Camp Pendleton I thought about my Grandfather who was stationed there when he was in the Marines during World War II. I often wonder how far the apple falls from the tree--we have the freedom to shape our own destinies, but biology certainly influences our lives to a great extent. Look at the two guys running for President! George W's father was the last Republican President and Al Gore's father was a prominent Senator. Man is not bound to the chains of his heredity, but he is not entirely free of them either. Along the road I also ponder my heart. For more than two years I have been deeply in love with her--the most remarkable woman I have ever met. Yet, for almost a year she has had a certainty that she is meant for a religious vocation. I told her that her best chance of becoming a saint would be to spend a life with me--not become a nun. But she must follow her own unique course, and so for a while now I have been free to see other women. Being the weak Pence man that I am, I have pursued other ladies--but my heart is heavy. I stayed in Washington because of her, and although I am content with my job as an IT headhunter my body and spirit is restless. There is a something about the road which consoles me and inspires me--the freedom, the unknown, the ability of the American male to chart his own destiny are all there on that open highway. Few roads inspire a sinful searching man more than Route 1 along the California coast.

Congressional Districts:

California# 49,51,48,47,45 (347 Left to Visit)

10/25/2000

I meet up with my old college girlfriend and we head up the coast. We pass through Long Beach and keep going until we get to the glitz and glamour of Beverly Hills. We walk down Rodeo Drive checking out where all the rich and beautiful people shop. We then cruise up Sunset Blvd. And check out UCLA's lovely campus before heading to Venice Beach. At Venice Beach I pull into a parking lot the wrong way running over some sharp metal spikes. We proceed to watch my lovely rented convertible Mustang sink closer to the ground as all four tires are completely flat. Damn! Not to be deterred, we walk the strip at Venice Beach where I purchase a fake Rolex watch and witness the great sunset over the mountains. After a long fiasco, Thrifty Car Rental sends a tow truck to pick up the car and we catch a cab to LAX airport where we pick up another set of wheels--not a convertible unfortunately despite my best efforts.

Reflection:

"Pride goeth before a fall." Cruising around Beverly Hills in the Mustang with the top down I have to admit I felt pretty cool. But the Good Lord humbled me and gave me a reality check. Unfortunately, I will have to pay for those tires since I didn't get coverage for them. Show you the importance on insurance--it's not for the hundreds of times everything goes right but for the one time things go wrong. Beverly Hills was something else. So many rich and famous people in one place is both a little amazing and a little ridiculous. Maybe California really symbolizes the American Dream more than any other place--where else are newcomers so welcome, the beaches so vast and beautiful and the dreams of Holly wood and Silicon Valley more acheivable? It is a fascinating place. Yet, the smog is sickening, the traffic unbearable and the lines between safe neighborhoods and bad neighborhoods is very thin. California--American Dream, American Tragedy. Old girlfriends die hard. When a man's heart is truly given it can never be taken totally away. I am still in love with her, but she is not the only woman to ever stir my soul. These are my wilderness years--maybe I'll be a little wild during them. Venice Beach would be a fun place to spend a couple of them!

Congressional Districts:

California # 29, 32, 36,38 (343 Left to Visit)

2/17/2001

After almost seven years in the East, I decide to venture West. I quit my job as a headhunter (on good terms with a going away lunch and all), settle all my affairs and pack my belongings. After giving away my furniture, I rent a Budget cargo van which we load up to the max. After a final kiss and a prayer, I head down my beloved Prince Street, turn onto the GW Parkway and cruise through Western Maryland and into Pennsylvania. I park the van in downtown Columbus, Ohio and spend some time roaming around the state capitol grounds where I was very impressed, especially by the statue of Columbus (for whom the town is named) and the veteran's plaza. I stop at a hotel outside of Columbus for the night.

Reflection:

Farewell Virginia!! It was far more difficult for me to leave Virginia then it was to leave Washington DC. Having lived in both Georgetown and Old Town Alexandria, I am convinced that the southern side of the Potomac is superior to the northern. I will sorely miss the Old Dominion--the mother of Patriots and American Presidents. What is it about the American character that makes us venture Westward into the unknown? From the Pilgrims crossing the Atlantic, to frontiersmen and pioneers moving ever onward, there is something in the American spirit that makes us journey onward into unexplored territory. Why do we go? Some went for religious freedom, others for open space and free land. Some sought gold and fortune, others a new beginning. Why do I leave the East? A broken heart, a restless body, an empty wallet and a curious spirit. All have led men West before--and so they will continue to do so as long as America remains open, free and as vast as a young man's imagination! Last week on February 14th, I had a wonderful lunch with Michael Barone, well respected political observer and author of The Almanac of American Politics. Mr. Barone has visited and written extensively about all 435 congressional districts. I wrote him a letter telling him about my project and he enthusiastically met me and paid for lunch. He is a brilliant man and his interest in my project was a very needed emotional lift. I've put a lot of time and effort and money into this project (it really is the only clear thing in my life right now) and I am glad I met someone who finally found it as worthwhile as I do! I hope Mr. Barone will read my journal one day, his bulky book for geeks interested in politics is what inspired it.

Congressional Districts:

Pennsylvania # 9,12,20 Ohio # 18,12,15 (331 Left to Visit)

07/01/2001

For a good while I have been saving up my frequent flyer miles on Northwest with one goal in mind--to conquer The Last Frontier. Having absolutely nothing better to do, I call up my Uncle Paul Julig who lives near the town of North Pole, Alaska and tell him I am coming up. Free room and board, free ticket and a man on a mission--it is time for Alaska! I fly into Anchorage and touch down in the largest congressional district in America. Having a few hours to kill before my connecting flight to Fairbanks, I leave the mounted polar bears of the Anchorage airport and hop a cab into downtown Anchorage. I explore the Eisenhower Statehood Memorial and then walk over to Resolution Park where I read the monument dedicated to that fabulous explorer Captain James Cook and looked out upon Cook Inlet. I then spent a couple of hours roaming around downtown Anchorage and viewing the monument to Dog Mushers where the great Iditarod Dogsled race takes place. I then returned to the airport and landed a window seat as my plane took off at midnight with the sun glowing a purplish red. As I look out the left side of the plane I witness a glowing ball of red shine upon a majestic Mount McKinley and remain wide awake despite the almost 3 AM Minnesota time my body is used to. Looking upon the undisturbed beauty below my face displays a large grin as I think of all the naysayers against my project who have never had the balls to set off against the odds and see the world. Where the hell are they? Asleep and preparing to go to some job most of them hate as I sit here looking out upon the Alaska wilderness. Damn the torpedoes full speed ahead!

I arrive in Fairbanks where my uncle Paul takes me back to his awesome log home which he made with his own hands. Uncle Paul (who resembles in shape and character another famous Paul from Minnesota--Paul Bunyan that is) then fed me some caribou fajitas which he made from meat he got by shooting a large caribou. Welcome to Alaska--home of might mountains and real men!

Reflection:

Wow! I thought Montana and Wyoming were rugged and beautiful, but as some told me once about Alaska, Alaska is Montana on steroids. The first thing that strikes the visitor to Alaska in the summertime is the sun--it was past midnight and still quite bright. Thus the phrase, land of the midnight sun, I suppose. Looking out the window of an airplane over the Alaskan landscape is one of the best ways to make a man an environmentalist. Who the hell would ever want to open up this land for settlement or development? It is so pristine and undisturbed. This place is spectacular--yet, man's ability to conquer the harsh elements and live in such an environment is also quite remarkable. Nature and modern man can exist in harmony, they don't need to be at war with one another. Alaska shows this. In Anchorage, I viewed three memorials: one to Eisenhower commemorating Alaskan statehood, one to Captain Cook recalling his incredible voyages and one to the men and dogs who brave the elements each year during Alaska's great dogsled races. American history is great--precisely because it is full of adventure and easy to learn. Alaska was founded as a state in 1959--only 16 years older than me! Americans should learn their history, it is fascinating and quite recent. America is also great because of two fundamental themes I see again and again throughout my adventures: one, the ability of the American people to take a rugged landscape and create a prosperous, free society stretching from sea to shining sea. Two, the inclination of the American people to identify with a local community, a state community and a national community. Every town I come to has monuments to local heroes and national heroes. The Eisenhower memorial to a President who signed a bill creating a state and the dogsled memorial to a group of local heroes are perfect examples of this phenomenon. Americans love their nation, but also maintain allegiance to their states, cities and local traditions as well. Take a rugged piece of land, sprinkle her with a diverse group of people from all over the world with many different beliefs but one common creed and watch as political and religious freedom create a prosperous and good people with a sense of adventure and self-reliance. The story of Alaska? Yes. The story of America? You damn well better believe it.

Congressional Districts:

Alaska # 1 (271 Left to Visit)

03/01/2002

After a fine, free supper last night at a BBQ joint I got back on the road. Cruising pass Wichita I started to get tired but forced myself onward. Once into Oklahoma I pulled over at a parking area and attempted to get some sleep between two giant semis. After 45 minutes of rest, I decided to keep going. I pushed onward to Oklahoma City where I arrived at about 1:30 A.M. There is something I like about coming into town in the middle of night. The streets are open and you can cruise around unmolested by other cars and people. I drove up to the capitol complex where I got out and walked around, looking at the monuments as is my custom, and visited the burning flame of the American Legion monument across the street. After contemplating federalism and American exceptionalism, I headed downtown to view the Oklahoma City National Memorial. Man! That memorial was beautiful and very powerful. I struck up a conversation with a security guard there who gave me a fine tour of the place at 3 A.M. at night. The pool, the architecture and the 168 lighted chairs which each represent a life lost was very moving and incredibly beautiful. I don't know what the memorial looks like during day, but I am confident it is superior to view during the night because of its superb use of light. I was also struck by the fence outside the memorial where people had put up hundreds of personal items and memorials.

Exhausted, I left Oklahoma City and drove West along Interstate 40. There, at a truck stop, past 4 A.M. I finally stopped, almost 24 hours and nearly 1000 miles from when I had started that morning in Minneapolis.

Three hours of sleep found me ready to march on to Texas. I am a great lover of country music, and there is no state more sung about than Texas, and few parts of her more heralded than West Texas. I can see why! The plains of West Texas presented a strong, silent beauty. This is open, sometimes harsh land. The men who work those fields, and the women who work those men, are as hearty as the earth they love. Don't Mess with Texas! After driving through Amarillo, I turned south and visited Palo Duro Canyon State Park, a very impressive geological site. From there I headed West, stopping at Hereford for some BBQ brisket. After dinner, it hit me and the 4 hours of sleep for more than 1200 miles of driving came home. I checked into a motel, slept for 4 1/2 hours, and now record this entry.

Reflection:

Monuments and Memorials. I am now a complete memorial junkie. I love to see and read monuments. Show me what a people commemorate, and I will show you their character.

Outside the Oklahoma State Capitol, there is a statue of a cowboy dedicated to the "Romantic Riders on the Range." Across from it, is a statue of an Indian woman entitled, "As Long As the Waters Flow." A cowboy and an Indian--Oklahoma is proud of both, even though the two were sometimes in conflict. In Montgomery Alabama, there is a statue to Jefferson Davis, and a Civil Rights Memorial--Alabama commemorates both, even though one might think it a conflict. Why? The Oklahoma National City Memorial explains this phenomena. Americans love to commemorate their history--both the tragic and the triumphant, both the cowboy and the Indian, white and black. This is part of our greatness as a people. Our past has much conflict, overcoming that has shaped our character. Our history is the history of proud, courageous fighters--both Cowboy and Indian, Confederate and African-American. The fact that we simultaneously recognize both is a hallmark of our respect to our history and our ancestors.

Before coming on this trip I sent out letters to political "science" professors in the states I planned to visit. I wrote them what I was doing, enclosed an article about my journey and told then that if they could provide me a place to stay and some food I would be happy to come talk to their American government students. Not a single one, not one, even responded. So, the modern de Tocqueville slept in his car, while Ivory Tower elites discussed their crappy theories to students. Note to political "science" teachers--teach your students geography, it is far more important to understanding politics than any of your latest theories. As my old man likes to say, "Teach your son geography, and he won't be swayed by ideology." Indeed.

Congressional Districts:

OK # 5, 3, 6 TX # 13, 19 (209 Left to Visit)

03/15/2002

I awake very early, record my reflections and shower--drying myself off with a towel that bears the Confederate flag on it. After saying goodbye to those Mississippi boys who the day before I didn't even know, I busted out. I stopped at Floorwood River Plantation and read the exhibits at a cotton museum. From there it was back down the delta where once again I was impressed by the beauty and openness of the fields and country. I drove down to Vicksburg where I toured Battlefield Park. From there I crossed the mighty Mississippi and ventured across Louisiana, stopping to walk around Shreveport for a bit. I then cruised all the way to Sulphur Springs, Texas arriving at the beautiful home of Jack Massey's family, a friend from the debate society at Georgetown. A good dinner is followed by hours of political discussions with his parents, the local District Attorney and some of Jack's law school friends. Exhausted, I grab a few hours sleep.

Reflection:

I found Mississippi quite beautiful, although poor. Many of her houses were very run-down and broken. Yet, if I had to choose between urban and rural poverty I would pick the country. One might be poor, but the land and surrounding beauty make up for it somewhat. The Delta, poor, beautiful, open and interesting left a mark on me.

Jack Massey's father, Jeff Massey, is in the oil exploration business. I can think of few people better to see a part of Texas with than him. They have a lovely home with a lot of land and it will be nice to chill our here for a while after all of the driving. It gets very tiring, but I am making a big dent into my goal this trip.

Many people I speak with about my journey express envy for my travels. That is fine, I have seen an incredible amount of America and have a great deal of gratitude for my luck and help Providence and the American people have bestowed on me. Yet, I don't have much sympathy for people who complain about their lack of travel when they have $50,000 in a house or put themselves tens of thousands of dollars in debt for graduate school. This is my graduate school, I have spent my entire savings and put myself into debt while working my ass off to get places to stay. I travel remarkably cheap--most people won't sleep at a truck stop, sleep on an army base's cold floor, in a tent or at a house with a bunch of people they don't know. A man deserves some respect for his sense of adventure, creativity and work towards his goal. When I travel America it isn't vacation, it is my work and calling. I want to find America's heart, spirit, soul. I have given my all to the purpose, and people should respect that. Still, people being envious of my journey is a reality, and one I'll have to live with. Being original is one of the toughest things to be--your mocked at times, then envied if successful. Nonetheless, fortune favors the bold, and when it comes to Raising Cain, I have plenty of boldness! I should fit right in at the Massey home.

Congressional Districts:

LA # 5,4 TX # 1 (180 Left to Visit)

03/16/2002

I awake and put on my cowboy hat, boots and attach my pistol "Lucky" to my belt. We head out to a place the Massey family has known as "The Bottom." There, we have a big ole Texas cookout which Jeff Massey has arranged. What a time! I met a whole cast of Texas characters who taught me a thing or two about this great state. A guy named John Merrill made fun of my little pistol and proceeded to teach me how to shoot some real guns--including an AR-15 which was pretty much a machine gun and which made "Lucky" look like a cap gun. I am such a poor shot it is embarrassing, but I have the desire to improve. We shot a whole bunch of pistols as well--there were not a lot of gun control advocates among the group! Later, a guy named Ronnie Blount took me out for a drive by an oil field and explained to me some of that fascinating business. My great-grandfather, Frank Pence, was in the oil business, so I found it very interesting to learn about Texas oil from a man who knew plenty about it.

Later we returned to the Massey compound where we played games, sat in the hot-tub and where I talked a lot of shit to some big Texas boys who were friends of Jack's brothers. I really enjoy talking crap to big Texans--they all think they are so damn tough. They need a big, loud Minnesotan to straighten them out, plus I would like to see one of those boys survive a Minnesota winter. Don't Mess with Minnesota!

Reflection:

Gun ownership is no small right. It is absolutely essential to American freedom. I really believe that one of the reasons our nation has remained free is because citizens have a Constitutional right to bear arms. This is no small part of our nation's history, and no small part of our liberty. All over America, and I mean all over, you will find monuments of men carrying guns. As a matter of fact, that is probably the most common monument one finds--a man with a gun who either was a soldier, pioneer or patriot. Gun ownership is far more important to American history than I thought before starting Raising Cain, when one sees enough of the country they realize that. A nation where the state controls all weapons is a nation I fear, and a nation America has never been and never should be.

West Texas Cattlemen. East Texas oilmen. I wanted to learn about Texas--I am being taught. Texans love their state with a pride I have rarely seen--the allegiance to a state is a very real thing in this place. Big and bold, loud but lovable, open land and oil fields--welcome to Texas!

Congressional Districts:

TX # 1 (180 Left to Visit)

03/28/2002

After recording my reflections I drive through rural Louisiana. I stop at a roadside joint for some crawfish rice dish and then march on to New Orleans. The land was open, but swampy and the roads were on stilts at certain times. It must have been a real bitch making these roads in the Louisiana summers! I have a great respect for road workers since they have done such a great job of connecting our nation. What makes America great? One this is the fact that we can drive to almost every part of our nation. Freedom of mobility is important to a free society. Before New Orleans I was stuck in traffic for over an hour. I love to drive, but hate being stuck on the highway in big cities. Finally, I arrived near the French Quarter and met up with my old high school buddy Jim Tischler, who arranged a room for us down here. We hit the Big Easy, drinking some hurricanes and wandering Bourbon Street. We had dinner with a lady we met who worked at Antioch College so we proceeded to debate the politics of higher education. Afterwards, we wandered the streets, taking in the debauchery and chaos that is the French Quarter. Like most visitors to this classic city, we saw a few pairs of breasts and bought some beads, but mostly just roamed the streets catching up on old times and making some new ones. We called it a night around Midnight.

Reflection:

New Orleans is my kind of town. Catholic and tradition minded, yet open to sin and having a good time. Bourbon Street was about what I expected. Fun to see and partake in, but only for so long. I am looking forward to seeing different parts of the city and learning more of her history. The party scene gets old, especially as one gets older. I'm more interested in historic sites than bars, although some of those girls of Bourbon Street looked pretty good. Cajun cuisine, Catholic Churches, cute coeds and Caino--let's go see some of New Orleans!

Congressional Districts:

LA # 3,2 (155 Left to Visit)

03/04/2003

I awake before dawn, showered, shaved took a dump and headed out. Something I always enjoy doing when in a foreign place is seeing the sunrise. I headed out on Ashford Drive and walked towards Viejo (Old) San Juan as the sun popped up. I stopped at a stand for a ham and queso breakfast sandwich, practiced my poor Spanish and walked to Old San Juan. There I enjoyed the large statue to Christopher Columbus--Cristobal Colon as he is known here and walked the blue cobblestone streets. I waited for the Castillo de San Cristobal to open, enjoying the magnificent view of the Atlantic Ocean before touring the historic fort. I then walked around some more before catching a cab back to the hotel. There I crashed for two hours of sleep then hit a beach. Just like a stupid Gringo I bought no sun lotion and lay out for a couple hours. I roamed around before eating a good dinner of rack of lamb and drinking a couple Pina Coladas. Tired, I called it an early night.

Reflection:

Ports and forts. Travel the world and you will find that much of history, and so many cities are founded by the location of ports for ships and forts for military bases and cannons. Old San Juan is no exception. A very charming place. My credit card debt is over $20,000 dollars, but so be it. It will only go up--but I am going to finish these Territories. I look forward to settling down someday and I look forward to traveling first class one day when I have the time and the money to enjoy it. Yet, I feel quite grateful--I am on an enchanted isle far from the Minnesota winter!

Congressional Districts:

Puerto Rico # 1 (29 Left to Visit)

03/07/2003

"You've gotta love da islands man!" Oh yah man, gotta love em. I awake after a solid night's sleep and eat the breakfast provided by the Inn. I then head out. I hop an open air taxi and take it up the hill and then down to the beautiful Magen's Bay. Determined to spend a "day at the beach" at least once in my quest I campout for about an hour then take a swim. I just couldn't do it. I love beaches and swimming in the Sea, yet I am unable to spend a whole day at the Ocean. There is just too much to see and do. So, I devise an ambitious plan--hike back to Charlotte Amalie. It is not a particularly long walk, but one must climb a very good-sized hill to complete the task. I hike the hill, enjoying the great views and thrill of physical vigor over the sand at the beach. Back in town I grab some food then have a couple drinks, fending off some sketchy women while bumming around town. Later in the evening I headed to the Green-House bar where I enjoy a Raggae band and partake of the rum of the islands while making some new friends at the bar. I leave the bar and go for a walk, stumbling into a party being put on by a social group. I, the only non-Virgin Islander at the group, talk my way into some free liquor and food by claiming that I am "the white Bob Marley." They got quite a kick out of me as I did with them! Eventually I called it a night and stumbled back to my bed, a little toasty on my face and in my head.

Reflection:

Without tourists, these islands would be really hurting. It seems as if the whole economy down here is tourism related. Like many tropical places, when one gets off the beaten path he finds a great deal of poverty. It would be nice to stay at a first class resort someday with a lady down here, but I am content. When young one should travel cheap and travel far. Islands are some cool places, especially if one had some real loot to enjoy the island! Gotta go now man .

Congressional Districts:

U.S. Virgin Islands # 1 (28 Left to Visit)

03/22/2003

"We're just stupid airmen--but we like to have fun. Come along world traveller, we'll show you some Guam!" After two cigars and three martinis I was game so I joined America's finest for a tour of Guam's worst. I couldn't help but laugh most the time at those strip club dives. A buck can go a long way in a low-down dive in the South Pacific but overall I behaved myself. Strip clubs don't do it for me, not that I mind the sight of beautiful women in sexy clothes. I just laughed most the time. Some guys went on to a massage parlor but I just headed home to a cool hotel room with an aching head and passed out. Those twenty-one and twenty-two year old navy guys can go all night, but CP is getting old.

The day had started with nobler aspirations. I went to a museum at a nearby Galleria shopping center which had a great exhibit on artifacts from China, including real terra cotta warriors from the tomb of Shi Huangdi. It was very fascinating. My conversations with the students at the East-West Center in Honolulu, the overwhelming presence of Japanese tourists at the hotel here, and the exhibit on ancient Chinese artifacts are all contributing to a desire to see the East one day--particularly Japan. I am currently reading the book Memoirs of a Geisha which my sister gave me. My readings are often influenced by my travels.

The rest of the day was spent watching war coverage, reading and hanging out by the hotel. Right below the Guam Reef Hotel there is an outdoor chapel and memorial to a Jesuit martyr. They show up in the darndest places! Guam is very Catholic and I always enjoy finding local monuments and memorials. On Waikiki Beach there is a statue to the "Duke" holding his surfboard. Try finding one of those in Minnesota. The world never ceases to amaze me! Later, I ate some Ramen noodles at a little stand, stopped by a gun club (Japanese tourists seem to like high-end shopping malls, strip clubs and sex shops and gun clubs judging by what I saw in Hawaii and Guam) and blasted a 357. Then I hit a martini bar and cigar lounge. There I rapped with a bunch of military guys before leaving and then meeting up with some later before hitting the dives. It was a good time but I left feeling that I was getting too old for it all.

Reflection:

The U.S. military is a huge institution. While servicemen are dying in the Persian Gulf, for these airmen in the Pacific it is business as usual. Most of those guys went right from high school into the service. "Wanted to see the world." "Wanted to get the hell out." "Wanted money for college." "Wanted to have job security," were all answers I heard to the question, "Why did you join the military?" While I''ve no doubt most are patriotic, I never once heard the reply, "Because I wanted to fight for America." If you want opportunity, security and adventure, the U. S. military is a very good route to pursue. I think a part of me will always regret not serving. Yet, when I was 17 I knew I wanted to attend Georgetown and when a senior at Georgetown I knew I wanted to visit all the districts and the territories. I have never really looked back.

Congressional Districts:

Guam # 1 (25 Left to Visit)