My original weekend plans changed, so I had to decide what to do yesterday - play Xbox all day, or go out and get some culture.

I compromised. Half day of Xbox, and a half-day of culture.

The half-day was deliberate. The day was planned around the National Memorial Day Concert, which started at 8. Since I'm not as young as I once was, a full day of wandering around sightseeing would kill me.

The day started with a quick walk around the Navy Memorial before I headed to the National Building Museum, where I had heard of a cool exhibit on architect's plans for New Orleans - NBM did something similar a few years back with plans for the September 11th memorial for the Pentagon as well as for innovative low-income housing ideas.

Well, it was probably a great exhibit, but it was closed for that day only. No explanation.

Day off to a ROUSING start.

After that came a quick stint at National Gallery of Art (I had seen an advertisement on Titian, but that didn't open until mid-June) and Natural History, which had absolutely nothing new. So I headed over to American History.

Oops, almost forgot. As I walked to Natural History, I followed the lead of a few other people and walked so that I could get drenched by a sprinkler (today was a "hot day" in Washington - for those of you reading in Florida, this is the type of day where you rejoice that the temperature's dropped to a reasonable level and put on a wool suit). There's a sculpture garden in between NGA and Natural History that had lots of people wading in it. A few walks around was enjoyable to evaporate some of the water.

American History did have an exhibition that did exist - one on Jim Henson and the Muppets that had really intrigued me - but it was very, very small (and right in the middle was Lance Armstrong's bike - talk about America's Attic). After a little time spent wandering around the polio exhibit (again) and seeing one on Celia Cruz (that was mainly valuable for the salsa), I cut bait and headed out.

I now had around forty minutes before the Smithsonian closed, so I headed to the Ripley Center to see what they had. Not much - something called "Amazon Voyages - Vicious Fishes and Other Riches" that was focused on kids (though it did have salsa steps and instructions on doing something called "The Stingray Shuffle" at the end of the exhibit) and Singgalot, which focused on Filipino-American relations.

Now I had three hours until the concert began. And it was Memorial Day. So. Off in the direction of the Washington Monument.

First stop, World War Two Memorial. The more I see it, the more I like it - except for those godawful Triumph of the Will-inspired eagles on the left and right sides. Memorial Day had led to people putting photographs and letters in some of the state nooks, and the view to the Lincoln Memorial seems enhanced by the gold stars and the fountain.

Ah, yes. The fountain. Despite six or seven signs that said "Do Not Wade In The Fountain", lots of people were doing it - and not just putting their feet in, but walking around and splashing. One day before Memorial Day. One Rolling Thunder attendee finally took one of the signs and placed it dead-center.

Then, the Vietnam memorial, which I've always enjoyed visiting on Memorial Day because of the variety of different items that are left (someone left a paper on someone who was killed by an IED in Iraq, and another left a Sago mine shirt, which made me wonder if they were for one of the fallen - or if the Wall had just become America's spot for mourning.

Then, wonder of wonders, some guy's cell phone rang and he answered it. While looking at the Wall (one person did it at the American History museum too, saying "I'm at a polio exhibit right now". And people ask why I don't have a cell phone and why I favor the death penalty). One day before Memorial Day. Unbelievable.

Then came the Korean War Veterans Memorial , which I like. A lot. It has the memorial for the UN participants, it shows some people walking through the brush, and it has the iconic "Freedom is Not Free", which, of all the memorials in Washington, is the one that usually gives me the most goosebumps.

I've also come to like the black granite wall, which has evolved my thinking from "another Vietnam Veterans Memorial" to something with a more ethereal quality. Vietnam was a very well-known war, and the names are etched and have a large degree of permanence and space.

Korea was less well-known, and the memorial reflects that - unlike "Mark J Hansen", which stands out clear as day, you need to look and focus at the pictures here.

Well. Time for a walk back to the Capitol. As I walked, I saw a few people dressed in costumes, sitting down around various people. Fortunately, they didn't choose me.

Anyway. Found a space (everywhere was pretty much blocked off due to TV cameras, so I chose a space with room to stretch out), took off my shoes, and just enjoyed the hour wait. Some people behind me had been victims of the costumed people, and found out that they were advertising a movie (no, I'm not going to tell you which one - no one who advertises before a Memorial Day concert with people who have so little self-respect that they dress up looking like idiots deserves free publicity).

Sitting behind me on my right was a young couple with a baby - Dad had on a Marine shirt. On my left were four women in their late 30s/early 40s, who had apparently planned for this more than Patton did the Normandy invasion - there was an extra-large blanket, a spare, smaller blanket, crackers, spinach salad, chicken, and sangria (which I was offered midway through). They seemed fun. Right in front of me was a couple who should be on a public-service announcement for making sure that you don't wear low-rise pants along with too-short shirts.

Anyway. The concert.

• Today's emcee for the night is Joe "I Don't Get Mad, I Get Stabby" Mantegna. Good job overall (with one exception - see below).
  
  
• Welcome to the first song of the night, the Star-Spangled Banner, sung by a mezzo-soprano (no, I don't know who - why don't you go to the concert next time). As you're standing and looking at the flag on the stage (some others look at the Capitol flag), it's pretty amazing to see the Washington Monument out of the corner of your eye).
  
  
• Quick cut to Colin Powell, who introduces veterans and their families sitting behind him (including some people from Walter Reed and Bethesda).
  
  
• Up next is Lee Ann Womack, who sings a really strange version of "I Hope You Dance" that's speeded up and isn't nearly as good as the original.
  
  
• Next introduced is today's co-host, Gary Sinise. Gary is introduced as the star of CSI: New York - it's strange, he's never been the star of an iconic movie or a really popular TV show. I remember him for a really great role in Ransom, as well as being on The Stand - the "Lieutenant Dan" role never registers, since that movie was so much about Tom Hanks.
  
  
• Gary talks to Big and Rich, who will apparently not be playing "Save A Horse, Ride a Cowboy". Instead, they're doing a song called "8th of November", about a Vietnam veteran from South Dakota. It begins with the two of them singing a cappella - great, great harmony - before it becomes generic Muzik Mafia. But that a cappella start was great.
  
  
• Now it's time for a salute to the upcoming 60th anniversary of the U.S. Air Force, which has its origins in the Army Air Corps, where almost one in every two planes was shot down. After a vignette on the dangers of combat flying over Germany (notably antiaircraft guns), we're introduced to someone who's going to read a story of one of them.
  
  
• No more fun anymore. The story is of a pilot who was shot down over Germany and taken to Stalag Luft Three (he escaped being mauled by farmers by being resuced being a German pilot - the farmers attacked him since the RAF had been bombing Cologne nearby pretty heavily. After being forced to march a hundred miles to another brutally overcrowded camp, he is rescued when Patton liberates the camp.
  
  Only, after he returns home, he finds out that his wife, assuming he was dead, has remarried and is now pregnant with her new husband's child. He describes it as the worst moment - even worse than being shot down and dropping fifty pounds - so much weight that his hips were bone.
  
  
• Next comes an honoring of the National Guard, who have accounted for about a quarter of all U.S. casualties in Iraq. Some stories of various different Guard detachments follow (include some Pennsylvania Guard members whose work helped get Saddam Hussein - despite the request not to clap until the end, some people clap here).
  
  
• Then comes the story of Houma, Louisiana - the "Black Sheep" and its National Guard patrol in Iraq. As Joe Mantegna goes down to a specific day, and turns things over to Gary Sinise to read a participant's recounting of events in his own words, you know it's not going to be good.
  
  And it's not. A patrol in Iraq that goes wrong when the lead tank is blown 150 feet into the air by an IED. The person in question calls for support, who helps to put out the fire before they find out that all seven people have been killed.
  
  After some discussions on his life since the event and the dreams he's had, we turn things over to Dianne Wiest, who reads the recollections of the mother of one of those killed in action. It's brutal. Absolutely and totally brutal.
  
  
• After that comes "Taps". Everyone stands, and there's no talking.
  
  
• The mood changes after that, as they recognize all veterans in the audience by playing the various "official songs" of each - the Marines are called out by Joe for both the Navy and Marine Corps songs (this may or may not mean that Marines count twice).
  
  
• Time to head out. I miraculously make it into the first train that gets there with remarkably little pushing.
  

Ok, I still have one more memorial to visit. Iwo Jima. I walk out of Rosslyn (ran up 2/3 of the non-working staircase before my legs gave out - dumb, dumb idea). It's now 10, and dark.

I walk over to the entrance to the park, which is strwen with orange construction thingees blocking walking on the grass - apparently they planted new grass and are trying to allow it to survive.

So. Picture this. It's close to pitch black and the direct way to walk to the memorial is blocked. I walk around for a little and find a way to enter. There's one other couple there - it wouldn't be right if it was deserted - and I walk around while they're debating how many people are on the statue. I then head over to the Carillon, hoping that I can see some flags next to the graves - something that I've always been impressed by - but it's too dark. I do, however, see one guy relieving himself in the grass by the Carillon.

It's been a full day. I head back to Rosslyn and metro home.