Ford’s Theater And Petersen House.

Ford’s Theater: Mid-rendition of an ABBA offshoot orchestrated by the hell’s own symphony. “Super Trooper,” jackhammering inside my brainpan. Pain, woe, desolation and a need to end it all. I turn, eyes watering from the torture.

“Isn’t it magical,” my date, once more proving without a shadow of a doubt that once the post-coital glow fades, all that is truly left is either loathing or love. In this case. “Dear God, it’s simply wonderful…” Loathing was winning over.

I am once more struck why, in spite of so many of my friends clamoring for Broadway, I’ll always feel more at home in a movie theater. Nursing a big bowl of popcorn and watching how Captain America shows those naughty fellas’ a thing or two about what’s what.

“What?” she stares out at my withering attention span. Beaming me with a glare that might as well spell out doom. “You don’t like it?” The venomous way she asks is somewhat akin as if she were inquiring why I decided to drown her dog.

My relationship was being taken out back and shot dead. Each new song, and musical carnage, was taking one more handful of dirt and throwing it on an ebony grave.

“You’re not enjoying this?” A lifeline.

I decide to scuff at the help and continue being the snarky bastard that made my nights in college a one-man event. “Please, if you value the Geneva Convention, shoot me now…”

Three years later, one hand candy short, and many nights repeating my teenage ritual, I look out on a balcony with the seal of the President Of The United Sates. Thinking back on that disastrous date, I come to the conclusion, that in retrospect, my last words weren’t exactly kosher with a Theater.

Compared to the man who made that booth (pardon the joke) famous, my last outing on Broadway wasn’t so bad. It was a mind-numbing bore and unimaginably dull, but at least I came out with all my skull intact.

Located in Washington D.C., Ford’s Theater is without a doubt one of the most recognizable landmarks in the city that all know of but few visit. In a span of 2 block in the Capital, one of the Republic’s darkest hour can be etched second by second. Retold with impeccable excited. A spot in this magnificent city that in a way concluded one of history’s most shocking tale. A tale that continues to fascinate all.

The final chapter of the bloodiest war in U.S. history had a Hollywood-worthy climax. A clandestine conspiracy, a cabal of villains, a flamboyant antagonist, a tragic hero, a breakneck manhunt, a gallows finish. A chapter that began with a phrase, a bang and finally with an assassination.

For all the skinny click on The Daring Penguin.

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