Cardinal fans

Hi everyone,

Well, we went to Moscow, land of the exploding underground, unburied dead, and Pushkin monuments about as common as funny ears at Disneyland. We got the night train to Moscow, (No, not Clarksville.) and got in about 8 am. The train was ok, but Mom complained about the ladders up to the upper berths. (Does anyone else automatically remember a 3 stooges skit?) Well, she got up there......eventually.....no, really, she did. She said it was very comfortable.

Lena and I shared a compartment with a couple of newlyweds. They behaved themselves admirably. We all got a decent nights rest, and arrived in Moscow ready for a big day of commiewatching.

First on the agenda is getting the stuff dropped off at the hotel, and also standing in a Soviet style line (They do so love standing in line here.) to buy tickets to The Kremlin. We decided the women would take the easy part. They lugged the bags to the hotel, while I had to brave the line all by myself. I was willing to be the fall guy here. What's a guy to do?

I got in line, eventually bought the tickets, and began waiting for them to show. When they finally got to Red Square, I had us ready to start our tour. They, however, seemed tired. (Go figure....) We got in line to enter the Kremlin, (I wonder why Napoleon didn’t do it this way?....) and went inside to the first church. Then we went to the second church, then the third, then the fourth, then we saw a cannon, then another church, (yawn) then another church.... I think you have the general idea.

One thing was kind of cool. While we were standing there, Vladimir Putin was driven by, probably on his way to oppressing some poor country in the Caucasus. He was in a nice Suburban.

Well, we did get to see the biggest bell in the world. It doesn’t work. Never has worked. Not once. Not one ding, ring, dong, or clang. It broke in the process of manufacture, and now people come from miles around to gawk at it. (I wonder if Edsel Ford ever considered this?) In the process of cooling, something happened and a chunk weighing about 11 1/2 tons broke off the bell. VEEEERRRRYYY interesting.... (wink wink wink.) There were some old churches though. (How old were they?) One was so old, it had Gods baby picture for an icon. One was sooo old, it had a bible with half the book of Genesis, and the last page said, "To be continued." It was soooooo old that Meshack, Shadrack, and Ebendego were still afraid of fire. It was sooooo old that David’s mother was still telling him to not point that slingshot at people, cuz he could put someone’s eye out.

Mom and Lena ate a couple of the greatest looking hot dogs in the world. I mean awesome looking. Mom takes a bite and says, "Oh David, you wouldn’t like it, the skin is hard." (Any TRUE sausage lover knows how wonderful that is....) They knew I couldn’t eat them, because of the salt, but they enjoyed them nonetheless. You have to admire their ability to have fun in the face of misery.

After the Kremlin, we went to a street called Stary Arbat. It is an artists/musicians/wierdo/kiosk hangout. We were in search of souvenirs. (Aha! Now I have your attention.) Well, to tell the truth, it was INCREDIBLY expensive, but you all mean so much to us that we bit the bullet and bought a TON of stuff for you guys. Mom is bringing most of it back with her. (I think she recognized pawn shops here, and doesn’t want to leave any of it with me....) We spent WAY too much money, and WAY too much time, not to mention the severe danger and discomfort so that you could have some wonderful reminder of our respective vacations. I hope you are all suitably, and humbly appreciative when receiving the swag.

Shopping in Moscow is pretty good. Don’t be surprised if Delores doesn't develop an interest in the workers paradise after Mom whispers a few sweet next-to-nothings in her ear.

After the shopping, we went to bed! We were as tired as a communist in search of motivation to produce. Our five year plan was well underway, and the "Kamanda Dave" (Team Dave) was finished with its mission.

Day two starts with the melodic tones of Lena snoring to the accompaniment of buzzing mosquitoes interspersed artistically with a horn section led by Armenian cab drivers. It was beautiful. To awaken
to such a melody is a mans dream. Dave, team leader was up before dawn, dressed and ready to go. (You weren’t here, so quit imagining that you know better....)

Our goal was Lenin’s tomb. Our plan was simple. Get there early, get in line, and see da dead guy.

Guys, I have to take a break. All this writing has caused writers block.

OK, stop applauding.

Stop it I said.

OK, fine, I will go on.

We got in line early. We were loaded for (Russian) bear. Cameras, backpacks, film, batteries, sodas, we were so ready it was incredible. They opened the gates, and people started going in.

To go in, you have to file past a guard, who checks you for dangerous items. Dynamite, TNT, plastique, and apparently, photographic equipment.

"No cameras. Kremlin cloak room." spake the guard, pointing toward a different time zone. (We knew where the cloak room was. We had left a cloak, disguised as a backpack there yesterday. It was a LONG way away.

"Oh, ok." I lied, "I won't take any pictures."

"Nyet." spat Stalin lite. "Cloakroom."

"Sertse!" I groaned, grabbing my chest.

I noticed he was now talking to the next person. Now, the line is about 2 km long, and the odds of getting in the end of this line and still seeing Lenin were pretty small. (There is talk of moving him in 2003, and the line was LONG.)

"Can I cut back in line when I get back?" I asked as I hurried away, afraid he may answer.

That afternoon I got back to the guard, and he let me in, where Mom was cavalierly waiting in the shade. She looked so refreshed and well rested. It was wonderful for me, in my condition, to be able to see someone who looked as though they were fresh as a daisy.

We fell in line to be ushered, in total silence, through Lenin’s tomb. If you made any noise, some too tall, too blonde, too official soldier would "SSSHHHHHHHH" you like he had sprung a leak. It was incredible. I have been in a LOT of churches in this country, and this is the ONLY place I have seen silence observed. It was downright disturbing the respect these people show for Lenin. (No, Angie, I am still not talking about the Beatles.) I tried to explain to some of them that basically Lenin was just a guy with a bad idea, but they would just get angry and storm off. Go figger. Where are all of our monuments to the guy who scouted for Custer, or the designers of the Titanic? Lenin was a guy with a bad idea. Nothing else. They should have respect for him as a historical figure, but this is not just that. It is a religion, and he is a God. I don’t mean this is LIKE a religion. Don’t misunderstand me, this IS a religion. Marx, Engels, etc. All prophets. Lenin was THE deity. There is a movement to bury Lenin in the family area of a graveyard in St. Petersburg, and to try to de-deify him here. I hope they do it.

After Lenin, we walked along and saw a lot of graves of demigods of the Communist church. Stalin, Brezhnev, Zhukov, etc. There were three guys there I want to find out who they were. William D. Haywood, 1869-1918, Arthur McManus 1889-1927, and Charles Emil 1882-1927. If any of you know, let us all know.

Well, this time I really do need to close. I will write more later.

Dave