waiting for Mr. Smith

A few weeks ago I watched an extremely good movie: Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Despite my love of old black & white films and Jimmy Stewart, I had never seen this movie before. It was interesting to watch Mr. Smith's arrival, because my first arrival back in 2004 was similar...minus the honorary Senator part. I was still a student, the fall semester of my Senior year, and this was my first trip to Washington.

I was in awe of everything. Of the buildings, from the gleaming white Capitol to the little row houses lining the off-street and later in awe of the jewel-colored leaves as fall arrived. I loved that I could walk everywhere and see so much history and that each building had a little bit of antiquity to it. After all, as I had realized from my first trip to Boston many years earlier...the only thing that old in Dallas was the dirt. My first trip to Union Station made me think of the old train stations from the boom of Industrialization, making me imagine fictional giants of Dagny Taggert and John Galt. I even could picture some scene from an Hercule Poirot mystery, if he had ever ventured over to our side of the pond.

The awe was much the same less than a year later when I moved out here from sunny California, less than eight months after leaving that winter. I cross 16th Street at least twice a day and used to glance down the street at the White House and the Washington Monument. I went down to the Mall often and to the museums.

But...I don't do that so much anymore. I don't go out of my way to do these things. The awe hasn't gone. If I catch myself at a red light, waiting to cross, and can see the White House, I do have to pause and smile. I still grin and wonder who's inside the black cars of a caravan (they haven't yet become an annoyance).

But the film reminded me of that sense of awe that I loved. Many of us Washingtonians become jaded after living here. We complain about the humidity (a very valid complaint), tourists, ridiculously high cost of living, politics, etc., etc. Mr. Smith's secretary, Saunders, says something like that to the other Senator. She says that she came to DC with the idea of making a difference and now her eyes were green with (or for) dollar signs. But she changes, her idealism comes back. I'm not saying mine has gone, it's just...maybe currently liquefied with the humidity.

But even if we get fed up with the little annoyances, it's not hard to look for something to inspire. Washington is filled with monuments to the giants of American history and their triumphs. Their stories may have become the stuff of legends, but it's the idea of these people...it's the idea of America and even the idea of Washington that draws many of us here.

I know that jaded voice has crept in lately now that I've started my third year, but I also know that underneath it, I do still want to make a difference. And I know that once the monuments to those giants have failed to make me stop for a moment and stare, then it will be time to leave. I don't think I could live in a city as wonderful and beautiful as Washington if it lost its wonder.