By Adam R. Perlman

WASHINGTON—It’s been a great summer. Best of my life. I’ve been to London, New York, Las Vegas, Vermont, Virginia, and Atlantic City. I spent the bulk of my time interning in Washington, and my mind is full of images of touring the West Wing, sitting in the studio for a taping of Crossfire, riding roller coasters with my chief-of-staff, and pacing the halls of Congress at midnight. But amongst these experiences and memories, some of which I will cram into this piece, some of which will never find their way onto paper, there is one part of my summer in Washington that towers above all others—the view.

Let me preface this by saying that I’ve lived in and around cities for my entire life. I grew up 30 minutes from downtown Manhattan, and I love the view, but it never meant too much to me. Maybe I took it for granted. But, all the same, resplendent sunsets, perfect night skies, and picturesque mountain peaks never quite did it for me. I mean, they’re pretty—I get that—and I like to look at them, but no view had ever really emotionally impacted me. Until this summer.

From my work place on the Hill, I could see the Capitol. When I went to other offices, to meetings, to seminars, I would look out the window and there it would be—the Capitol. Not the fake image they stick behind Darryl Hammond or whoever happens to be playing the president now on “Saturday Night Live,” but the actual Capitol dome. And when I looked at it, from home or work, I felt lighter, happier, inspired. I know it sounds hackneyed, but the more I lived in Washington, and the more time I spent in the Capitol and around the Congress, the more the sight of that building moved me. Wherever I went in and around D.C., even as far south as Alexandria, I would look back towards the city and the Capitol dome would stand there, anchoring the city and fixing the eye.

As part of my job, I gave tours of the Capitol and was privileged enough to receive a private tour of the dome, gazing down from the top of the inner dome on the rotunda below, and even heading outside to look down on D.C. from the outer dome. Yet looking around in the building and from the building could never compare to the hypnotic draw of looking at it.

I had other, more traditional, and, I suppose, more substantive experiences this summer. I worked in the office of Rep. Bob Barr (R-Ga.), and was at the center of the Condit scandal for a day after Barr became the first member of Congress to call for the resignation of Rep. Gary Condit (D-Calif.). Poring through books and websites to research the particulars of requesting a Congressional ethics investigation certainly constitutes a memorable project.

I won't consume more of your reading time with my workplace adventures—you've probably heard similar stories before. Buit it truly was a great summer. A summer of other firsts. I played my first round of golf—and I shot a 66. Well, on the front nine. Of a 9-hole, par 27 course. But it was still a helluva time.

I rode my first roller coaster, and despite the fact that the Superman ride had gotten stuck moments before I got on, I wound up riding it until they kicked us off and closed the park.