The March on The Pentagon: Part 1

I was on a two hour bus ride to Washington D.C. and I was half way through it, and I still wasn't completely sure why I was there. I was there to support the cause, but why? Did I really, truly believe in the cause, or was I going just to cover the story? I'd find out soon enough. My notes from the bus ride read, "Chaos everywhere, people screaming, passing through Newport now; try to pass the time by listening to Devo, Men Without Hats, and Cotton Eyed Joe". The bus ride wasn't as productive as I thought it would be and a little bit more aggravating.

I arrived at the destination and got off the bus around eight o'clock in the morning. The air outside was brisk yet refreshing compared to the poisonous recycled air on the bus. As I stretched out and gathered my marching "gear", people shook hands and greeted each other with big grins," Are you ready to march! Are you ready to impeach that swine that we call president! I know I am! As soon as I straightened up, an over-eager geek of a man bounded over to me and introduced himself "Ken, Ken Kavitz, pleased to meet you!" I took a few steps back and introduced myself as Kevin Katz to which he immediately pointed out the coincidence in both of our names being two K words. "Oh god, I have to lose this man" I thought "or surely i'll be dead by nightfall".

"Where is this goddamn thing?" I asked searching for it. "Right here", and Ken swung me around to show me the site. "Holy shit!" I said as I dropped to my knees in awe of the vast two acre clearing jam packed with every single protesting group imaginable. There were people walking and discussing politics, huge tents of people giving out signs, orgies in the middle of the crowd, just pure cacaphone. With a daring step, I plunged myself into the squirming crown and held my breath for fear of catching typhus. I had to excuse my way through the pot heads, the acid junkies, and the feminists to get to my position for the pre-march meeting. Sometime during my excursion through the sybarites, I lost Ken, and at a good time too, because I was reaching that point when I would have punched that babbling geek. I reached my destination in the crowd, and I was surrounded by tens of thousands of people and wondered what I got my self into.

......

Is this really what I came for, did I really believe in this? People swarming in the thousands handing out socialist newspapers, anarchist primers, feminist journals, every kind of periodical imaginable. And the buttons, oh the buttons! millions of them everywhere with witty comments and voicing their opinions. People talking about the "musical guest", screaming in my ears. Running around and pushing me, tying my shoelaces together, smelling my hair, formed a circle around me and started probing around with their fingers. This became so much of a problem that I had take my bag by the shoulder strap, swing it around violently over my head, and charge at the nearest gap in the circle. I may have knocked out a few of the drug-crazed fiends, but I made my way out.

At this point, I met up with my friend Matt who came to the march. It had been a while since we last met so we caught up as best as we could in the surrounding chaos. He said that he was really excited about the march, and said, "hey, do you want a djembe, because I do", so just like that, we went on a search for djembes. From across the clearing we saw a cart filled with djembes and other percussion instruments, so we rushed over before any of the chanting swine who surrounded me could get their hands on it. When we got there, we asked the man tending to the cart if we could purchase two djembes. To which he replied, "what are you, crazy? These are for the band. What do you want to do, sabotage us?". And then he winked and smiled so we fled in terror and returned to the crowds.

Then, blasting from the strategically placed speakers, a voice dirested the crowds to the right and told us to start marching. So we were under way, moving slowly but surely. I was walking peacefully and getting into things, and then I spotted the counterprotesters. The incompetant freaks were everywhere, chanting "If you don't support the war, then you support Jihad", or some other brainless hokum. There were hundreds of them lining the streets chanting and holding signs and throwing various items into the marchers. I had to duck and weave through the crowd and hide under peoples umbrellas to keep a safe distance from the counterprotesters. Craziness everywhere...but I found a safe spot in the crowd and continued to march and join the chants. I think I had finally got the hang of this marching thing...selah.