A short trip down Highway 16 to Keystone, South Dakota and Mt. Rushmore lifted my spirits today. It's been a few days since I've seen anything of note or had an adventure that didn't involve running for my life, so I decided to make a full day of this crazy monument to American domination.
Honestly, I was pretty flippant about Mt. Rushmore before — and sure, I still am — but it was a pretty amazing thing to see. The first thing I noticed is that it isn't as huge as I though it was. Don't get me wrong, it's big. But views from TV and the movies made me think it was a lot bigger than it actually is. (A note to the actual size, the eyes are 11 feet wide and the noses are about 20 feet long. Each face is about 60 feet tall.)
All that rubble at the base is the debris blasted off during construction, which lasted from 1927-1941. However, because of a very spotty budget — it was hard to fund? I wonder why! — it took about six years from start to finish. A cocky sculptor named Gutzon Borglum pulled it off, though it killed him in the end. He died before the last face was done. And at that, as you can see by his scale model, it still isn't carved to the point he wanted it to be.
So, it all has meaning, right. Washington represents the birth of the nation; Jefferson, its expansion; Roosevelt, its economic, social and natural development; and Lincoln, its preservation.
I checked out every inch of the visitor's center and the main park area, watching a couple of movies (One featuring Tom Brokaw's soothing rasp), taking a hike to the closest point accessible, and geeking out a bit on presidential rhetoric books in the bookstore. I got a copy of a couple of Lincoln's speeches, a book containing his only three poems (pretty terrible) and Washington's handbook on behavior.
Some great tips from Washington's "Rules of Civility and Decent Behaviour in Company and Conversation," which he wrote when he was 14 after reading what I assume was a snooty French book on the same subject:
Number 2: When in company, put not your hands to any part of the body, not usually discovered.
Number 25: Superfluous compliments and all affection of ceremny are to be avoided, yet where due, are not to be neglected.
Number 38: In visiting the sick, do not presently play the physician if you be not knowing therein.
Number 51: Wear not your clothes foul, ripped or dusty, but see they be brushed once every day, and take heed that you approach not to any uncleaness.
Number 53: Run not in the streets; neither go too slowly nor with your mouth open; go not shaking your arms; kick not the earth with your feet; go not upon the toes nor in a dancing fashion.
Number 92: Take no salt, nor cut your bread with your knife greasy.
Number 109: Let your recreations be manful not sinful.
Number 110: Labour to keep alive in your breast that little celestial fire called conscience.
How cool is that? He wrote a book on manors, kicked the crap out of England on the battlefield and had to decline becoming the Emperor of America. Bad. Ass.
Lincoln, though, is my personal favorite. It's a rhetoric thing. He knew how to talk to people. Also, great beard.
After coming off the mountain, I checked out the National Presidential Wax Museum — not actually funded by taxpayers. It was creepy cool. Lot's of fun facts. Also… creepy.
Washington was checking out the first flag. Lincoln was making a debate speech.
His face was molded off of a actual cast that Lincoln made as a young politico, hence no beard. In fact, the mold used for this waxy dude is the same Disney used for the talking Lincoln. The more you know, right?
Sure, then there was the Election 2000 set, with angy Gore and innocent Bush. No comment — other than creepiness. But none as creepy as:
Yep, that's John C. Calhoun — seventh veep under Adams and Jackson, as well as, fittingly, Secretary of War under Monroe. Here, as Secretary of War in the Monroe set, he apparently has punch duty. He appears… as he always appears… pissed. "Want some punch!"
No John, I don't want anything you have.
I am screwed, according to Washington’s rules.
No salt?
No dancing toes?
punch duty!
it almost makes me want to visit south dakota. almost.
this used to be a very sacred mountain for natives.
by the way. check out the self-publishing website Lulu. I definitely think you could make a nice little book from all your pictures and text…seriously.