I have a hobby... to visit the graves of all the presidents. (The ones who have passed, that is.) It's a hobby, not an obsession. Now the guy who is trying to eat at every McDonald's in the United States... that's an obsession. Especially when they build another few dozen each month.

Before this summer, I have been to 23 of the 36 existing presidential graves. By the end of this week, if all goes well, it will be 29 out of 36. That's the point (ha ha ha!) of my mini-trip this summer.

My first day... the route went through Indianapolis to the grave of Benjamin Harrison, located in one of the huge cemeteries you find in big cities... the "city of the dead" concept that became popular about 1850 or 1860. It would have been impossible to find the actual grave if there had been no occasional signs, and even with the signs it was hard to navigate through the acres of winding roads. Finally, there it was...

The descendant of a former president, he won the presidency despite losing the national popular vote... and with allegations of vote fraud in a crucial state that gave him the White House. Remind you of anybody? He was actually one of the more competent presidents between Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt, and with a brief period of Republican control of Congress he signed more bills into law than anybody else of the period. But he had a tin ear to public opinion and lost his 1892 rematch with Grover Cleveland.

From "Naptown", the trail went east to Columbus and then slightly north to Marion, Ohio. This is where the president routinely voted the worst in American history is buried, but ironically Warren Harding's tomb is one of the most impressive of all...

The one thing I kept thinking here was... Harding was a respected man in his hometown, he became president, he died in office to tremendous outpourings of national grief, schoolchildren contributed pennies to help build his memorial... and still, none of it helped him avoid becoming a historical punch-line. He is, though, one of three presidents I can think of whose name is a song title-- Warren Harding by Al Stewart. (The others? Harry Truman by Chicago, and President Garfield by Juliana Hatfield. I'm not counting Abraham, Martin, and John.)

Every once in a while, a revisionist historian argues that Harding wasn't a horrible president, but the best they can say about him is that he was merely competent. It hasn't done much to change the perception. I don't think he was the absolute worst-- that line begins and ends with Franklin Pierce and James Buchanan-- but he is very near the bottom. Probably a nice guy, but you know what Leo Durocher said. Possible presidential foreshadowing; he met allegedly met his mistress in a White House closet. "Windowless corridor", anybody?

Leaving Cincinnati, today's first stop was outside of Louisville, for the tomb of Zachary Taylor. Coincidentally, it's located in the Zachary Taylor National Cemetery...

Taylor was a war hero, so the Whig Party did the only thing that ever got them the White House-- they ran a war hero. Didn't matter that he'd never voted in his life... As bizarre as it was, the exhumation story points out the two ways of viewing Taylor. Either he was a strong defender of the Union against divisive sectionalism (the theory was that pro-slavery forces poisoned him to prevent a veto of the Compromise of 1850)... or else he was an inept politician who got too much sun and died from a combination heat stroke/ eating too many cherries with sour milk, with no conspiracies involved. Try as I might, I couldn't help but remember Larry "Bud" Melman's portrayal of Taylor's last moments... "Hey! These cherries taste funny!"

South through Kentucky and into Tennessee, the next destination was Nashville. Driving into town, the road passes the Titans' brand new stadium... that's right, Adelphia Coliseum. Memo to the Titans: check out how quickly the Astros got rid of the name "Enron Field." Walking through downtown, a location brought back strange memories... War Memorial Square. The site of Al Gore's victory celebration.

Anyway. On the grounds of the Tennessee Capitol is the tomb of James K. Polk. I don't know why, but I'm completely conditioned to say "James K. Polk" instead of a simple "James Polk."

Polk is one of those presidents that, rightly or wrongly, doesn't emit much of a personality just based on what you read about him. By all accounts he was an extreme workaholic, and significance was made of the fact that he died only a few months after leaving office... as if the lack of any work was too much to bear. But his image is kind of reflected from other sources. His nickname even plays off that of another, more famous leader. "Young Hickory." They say that he refused to run for a second term because he'd already done everything he wanted in his first term. I know there's a modern politician joke to be made out of that, but I just can't seem to form it myself...

Outside of Nashville is the Hermitage, Andrew Jackson's estate, where he is also buried. I had seen it, but only once as a little kid, so in case there's a statute of limitations on active presidential grave visits, I decided to check in. It's controlled by a private organization, so one has to pay for the privilege...

Jackson falls into the category of "great presidents", but I have to admit he's maybe my least favorite "great president"... he seemed too eager to relocate the Indian tribes who were legally entitled to stay where they were (admittedly he wasn't alone in this), and worse, to ignore the Supreme Court over the issue. "The Court has made it's ruling. Now let them enforce it." The entire Bank of the U.S. issue also seems counterproductive in the long run, since it left banking completely unregulated and liable for fraud. His dinner toast to John C. Calhoun in the midst of the "nullification" crisis ("To our federal Union, inseparable"), though, was a marvelous in-your-face gesture.

I cannot leave the subject of Jackson without including this quote from Arthur Schlesinger Jr.'s The Age of Jackson regarding his funeral... "between the funeral sermon and the burial a wildly twittering parrot, a household pet, broke into raucous profanity and was taken away."

Starting out near Knoxville, it was a short trip to Greeneville, Tennessee-- the site of the Andrew Johnson site. The Park Service runs admission to Johnson's home, and while waiting for the tour I went to the cemetery... once again, it's coincidentally named the "Andrew Johnson National Cemetery"... to see the grave.

There certainly is a huge contrast between the Andrew Jackson plantation-style home and the Andrew Johnson home. The Hermitage is just a little too grand for the home of a man of the common people, while Johnson's home is much more approachable.

The exhibits at the Johnson site almost convinced me that he wasn't a terrible president. Almost. I don't think you can ignore the fact that Johnson's policies were a big step backwards in trying to settle the issue of civil rights after the war. His argument (and by extension, the argument of the site's exhibits) is that his opposition to black suffrage and equality was based on constitutional objections, but that battle has been decided. He has been the object of some sympathy, though, because his opponents have come off even more badly, and most everybody agrees that if the impeachment process had succeeded it would have been a farce to remove a president over simple unpopularity.

After Greeneville, it was time for the long trek home. Through Cumberland Gap, through Corbin, Kentucky (the site of Colonel Sanders' first restaurant!). No time to stop in Lexington, where-- who knows?-- I could have run into Ashley Judd in line for UK basketball tickets or something. Up through Cincinnati, until by late afternoon I was in North Bend, Ohio. The site of the last stop.

The William Henry Harrison tomb (we started this tour with a Harrison, and we'll finish with his grandfather) is a very agreeable marble tower overlooking the river. Impressive to find such a nice monument in the middle of, and I'm sure even the citizens of North Bend wouldn't object too much, nowhere. It just kind of looks out of place, you know?

Well, there isn't much you can say about a president who died after a month in office. (He's the polar opposite of Taylor. Harrison died of pneumonia from exposure to the cold, Taylor died of a heatstroke.) His biggest significance is probably as a representative of the 1840's trend toward politicians who had common appeal, no matter how aristocratic their background. Harrison was the son of a signer of the Declaration, but he was elected because of his image as a log cabin living, hard cider drinking man of the people. When you remember this, it's no surprise that George Bush the elder felt it necessary to downplay his preppy background and play up his love of pork rinds and country music.

After this, the trip was over, only I still had to get home. Steinbeck said that journeys are sometimes effectively over while you're still on the road, and I always feel that. Oh, and if you doubted that I was really visiting all these sites...

So, this journey leaves me with 7 to go on my list. Two in Richmond, VA, one on Long Island, on in Albany, one in New Hampshire, and one in Vermont. And, one more way across the country in California. Someday soon, maybe...