Firsts

A few weeks ago marked my one-year anniversary of finishing grad school, and in just a few weeks, I will mark my one-year anniversary in DC. I think this has been the fastest year yet. Standing on that mountaintop a year ago really did change everything. It's been quite a year. This is the first time I have lived in a city on my own, without my parents less than six hours away by car. And thus, the first time I have really, truly felt like an adult. It only took 29 years to get there.

I rode a motorcycle for the first time, despite my secret fantasy life as a biker babe. It was really scary at first, and now I can't wait to do it again.

I watched my younger brother marry the love of his life and start his own family and career.

In November I danced on my fire escape in the nation's capital when our first African-American president was elected. In January I huddled in the freezing cold on the National Mall to see him sworn in. And in May, I stood on the other side of the fence as he wished my mom a happy Mother's Day. Only having a conversation with him would be cooler.

I was active outdoors all winter long, unlike every winter past that was too hard and bitter to walk four blocks to the gym. Granted, DC winters are not like Chicago winters, but I definitely learned the value of fleece tops and wool socks.

This spring, I made my own yogurt, grew my own veggies, and roasted my own chicken. Cheers to being even more self-sufficient. I also joined the 21st century with a flat-screen HD LCD television and a brand new laptop computer.

I embraced a challenge at work and came away feeling much more prepared, capable, and confident. I learned to stop pushing pushing pushing for world change, opting instead to focus on creating a meaningful life for myself and seeking out the little ways that I can make a difference. I changed my diet, upped my weights at the gym, and lost six pounds, and for the first time that I can remember, I actually like my knees.

For the first time since high school, I fell in love. Real love, requited, reciprocated, gut-wrenching love. Who just happens to live 1,700 miles away. He inspires me to try even harder to be the best I can be, to let go of fear and embrace opportunity. He is my better half.

All of these things are wonderful. They bring me closer to the person I really want to be. Aside from the first real vacation I have ever taken without any family, I can't begin to guess what the next year will hold. All I know is that life seems to get better as I get older. I wish that life could be so good for others. I know so many people who feel such pain, and I wish that the warm rays of the sun would shine on them more often. I feel so blessed, so thankful for the life I have been given the opportunity to lead. Most days, I can hardly believe it, and that is definitely a first.

City living: riding the bus and growing some goodies

Lately I've been relishing the characters on the bus, a sort of in-your-face to those who think the bus is for the proletariat. Last week, a little old woman was standing in the middle of the bus preaching in Spanish. I don't know much Spanish, but I assume it was preaching because I heard the words "padre" and "santos" a number of times. Yet she was so confident and happy that I felt strangely comforted by her. I was actually sad when she got off the bus. Until yesterday, the crazies were mostly like that - unobtrusive and occasionally amusing. But yesterday, an older man with a neck brace in a wheelchair got on the bus. The driver had to help him onto the lift and push him into the wheelchair spot, and when she turned him around I could see patches sewn on his shirt about the Vietnam war and a particularly lovely one that said something to the effect of Jane Fonda being a "traitor bitch". Yeah, it was that kind of morning.

The man was obviously drunk or otherwise under the influence and spent most of the bus ride shouting obscenities, the only coherent words from his mouth. Until he looked over a guy sitting in a seat nearby, listening to his iPod. The bus driver had already threatened to kick the drunk veteran off the bus for his language, but she stopped the bus and made him get off immediately after he started shouting at the iPod guy and ramming his wheelchair into him. Wow.

At first I felt shaken up. I was already kind of tired and not in the mood for some crazy guy to ruin my morning. But then I thought about all the sad people featured in that show "Intervention" who deal with addictions, and I pictured this drunken vet as he probably used to be: a young man who was just living his life until he got drafted into the army, sent to some strange country, injured, sewn up, and sent home. Left to his own devices, perhaps ignored by the overwhelmed and underequipped VA, to deal with his pain the only ways he knew how. And I felt sad. Because 40 years ago, this man surely did not think he would end up this way, shouting at strangers and complaining about his war wounds. I hope he has someone to take care of him. I hope he at least has someplace to call home. After he got off the bus, a woman on the sidewalk started talking to him, and it left me with some hope that she would at least get him to a safe place where he could sleep off his buzz, get some food, perhaps move on, forgetting the stir he caused that morning.

He didn't ruin my day after all. Upon returning home, I inspected the container garden I had planted last week. Plastic and ceramic pots resting on wide windowsills, taking up the cat's sunny spot, filled with Organic Mechanic potting soil and some courageous little seeds. In the living room, mesclun greens, zucchini, and peppers bask in the sun, while rye grass rests in the bathroom and dwarf peas greet the day in my bedroom. The rye grass was first, its pointy blades poking straight up through the soil. In another week, it will be ready for attack by the cat, giving my spider plants a welcome respite from dear kitty's munch. The mesclun greens were next, although different varieties germinate at different times, so although it looks like clover right now, someday it will be a salad. And now, the timid pea shoots are pushing the soil aside, emerging in the afternoon sun. I've been putting frozen peas in many of my dishes, so the idea of plucking those fresh little globes from my bedroom window for a breakfast delight of scrambled eggs with mushrooms, peas, and cheddar cheese, topped with roasted red pepper and artichoke dip and scooped up with toast, is almost too much to bear. I can hardly wait.

The squash and the peppers take a little longer to germinate. I've been hoping to plant carrots, beets, and tomatoes as well, so once I know my current plots are alive and well, I'll tackle the root veggies and needy tomatoes next. I was so worried that nothing would grow, and instead the bounty is just beginning. Photos to come soon.

A loss of public art

Last month, a dear friend and I trekked out to Hain's Point, which is in East Potomac Park. It's a peninsula of sorts, with the Washington Channel on one side and the Potomac on the other. The east side provides lovely views of some large houses and Fort McNair; the west side is a great place to watch the planes land at Reagan National Airport. At the end, in the middle of a big field, is the reason we trekked out there, carrying bags of goodies from the Whole Foods salad bar at 5:30 on a Saturday evening: The Awakening, one of the few things my dear friend missed after moving away from DC. It's a giant sculpture that rises out of the ground, providing endless opportunities for climbing and admiring.

Except that it was gone. No scar in the earth from where it was dug up, no plaque commemorating the work of art, and nothing except some old wintered grass left in its place. We were saddened. Apparently the National Park Service had long ago lost its permit to keep the sculpture there, and perhaps the artist found himself so strapped for cash that he decided to sell it to a developer in February 2008. So now, The Awakening emerges from blocks of pavement in a new mixed-use development on the southwest shore of Maryland's peninsula, another tourist trap.

Why didn't the National Park Service fight for the sculpture? Why haven't they replaced it with other artwork, something else for people to admire on a sunny day? We suspect it's because Hain's Point is not a tourist trap. It's not easily accessible by metro train or bus. There are no fancy restaurants or hotels nearby, just a scrubby golf course and some nice playground equipment. On that chilly Saturday afternoon, we were a couple of white faces among a diverse crowd of latino and black residents of DC and nearby neighborhoods who were picnicking, fishing, and flying kites. If anyone deserves public artwork to admire, it's the people whose income taxes (exorbitant in the District) keep the metropolitan area afloat during times when fewer tourists can afford to flock to the better-known memorials and museums. DC doesn't need more concrete playgrounds like National Harbor, it needs more community involvement. And it needs to support more artists, without whose creativity and hard work the city would be just another slab of asphalt. Please, National Park Service, bring public artwork back to East Potomac Park.

Going back in time

Recently, I have read items from a couple of books about current events and culture that were written either before September 11, 2001, or just after George W. Bush took office but before the Iraq war. I would love to call these writers and have lengthy conversations about how they now view what they wrote then, given what we've all been through. Because what they wrote then makes no sense now. It's like watching a movie or tv show filmed before 9/11 in which anyone can walk through the automatic sliding doors of the airport and right up to the gate, ticketed or not. Remember those days, when you could wait for you loved ones' airplane to pull up to the gate in the chairs usually reserved for passengers, instead of on the cold tile next to the baggage carousel? It may be such a little thing, but it reminds us of how much has changed in these 7 and 1/2 years.

One of these books I've been perusing is "Partly Cloudy Patriot" by Sarah Vowell. One of the reviewers uses the word 'droll' to describe the book, and droll she is. She has a lengthy chapter about the election in 2000, and her comments meld with the chapter about Al Gore to contrast the bumbling foolishness of the president we got with the egghead president we actually elected. This chapter was written just after Bush's inauguration, and she couldn't possibly have guessed what would ensue. In any case, this was all put in the context of the horrors of high school, in which the jocks rule the school and the nerds get teased and ridiculed for their inability to do pull-ups in gym class. Sarah pined for the day that nerds would run the world.

Now they do. And as much as our country has changed from the beginning of Bush's presidency to the end, it has changed doubly in the month since then. A country run by propeller-heads - if they can fix what's wrong, we may never go back to brush-cutting plain-talkers again. I shudder to think about what could happen if we get this wrong.

Cruel joke (and revolt of the parentheses)

Aside from a short jaunt off the wagon, I've been vegetarian for about 3 and 1/2 years (although I still eat sustainably raised and harvested fish, eggs, and cheese). It was mostly for environmental reasons, but also an attempt to maintain a healthy diet. (Do M&M cookies count as a food group?) Being vegetarian leads you to learn to make really weird meals out of things that shouldn't go together but have a complete array of vitamins, carbs, and proteins, so you shove it down and don't share with others for fear of the dreaded "you eat this?!" look. But despite my salads with beets and fennel, despite my oatmeal with protein powder and flax seeds, despite my scrambled eggs with mushrooms and peas (YUM!) and my 4-times-a-week gym habit, I couldn't lose weight and often felt gross enough to wish I could wear sweatpants to work.

Enter a dalliance through the local chain bookstore one Friday evening, in between a boring workday and dinner with friends. The Buy one Get one Half off shelf called my name. On it, a book called Eat Right 4 Your Blood Type. Grammar wonk that I am, I refuse to read anything that has a number instead of a word in the title, and am far less willing to read any diet book whatsoever. But I might have just fulfilled my Recommended Daily Allowance of said M&M cookie food group, and thus, the guilt won out, so I picked it up and glanced inside. And what of this blood type diet? What do my platelets wish for me to consume? No wheat at all (except for Ezekiel bread, which is not a loaf of baked flour at all, but rather a living thing itself, apparently) and no corn either, no coffee (wha?!), no dairy (blasphemy!), no peanut butter or other legumes (okay, now this has gone too far). Alas, my veggie burgers and tofurky (main ingredient: wheat gluten), gourmet Trader Joe's-type snack crisps, lentil soup, corn tortilla'ed fajitas, have all been working against me.

Instead, meat. Meat, meat, meat. Bison and chicken and fish (oh my!). Many of my beloved fruits, veggies, and nuts are still okay, as are most beans and some other types of grains, like funny little quinoa. But basically I should be eating like a caveman. The "highly beneficial" foods include: meat (no pork), the gamier, the better; dark leafy greens like kale, chard, collards; almonds, walnuts, flax, and pumpkin seeds; berries (but not strawberries, those acidic little rascals) and other red fruits; artichokes, broccoli, sweet potatoes, red peppers, and other such roughage; pinto beans and black-eyed peas. Basically, a lot of the foods I already eat, but not some of the foods I always thought were best for me. Green tea is the new caffeine, vodka is the new taboo (I never liked it much anyway).

Here's the best news. Chocolate: okay. Beer and wine: okay. Sushi (with brown rice): okay (in fact, more than okay. Enter the kelp/seaweed food group). I think I can do this, if I can just get over the fact that raising animals for food is an eco-no-no. The famous favorite ag advice folks say to cut out the meat, eat less animal, plan a night of meatless meals. And here I am, chowing down on bison jerky and chicken stir-fry. It will be hard to slice off the cookie-and-muffin section of my food pyramid, but the franken-bread and quinoa helps. The book seems to be pretty scientifically based, from what little I remember from high school biology, but I'm still skeptical. However, it's been 10 days, and I feel better. No obnoxious diet-devotee testimony here, but my stomach feels better, my skin cleared up a little bit (pure coincidence, I say. There's a mega zit waiting to take over my chin, I can feel it). And I feel more satisfied when I eat. For what it's worth. I vow not to eat cow, and I promise to purchase my meat from the farmers markets and Whole Foods. There might be some cheese involved though. Feta, goat cheese, mozzarella, you better hide.

The caveman diet: all of the flesh, none of the fashion.

Coming round, full circle

"On a short, dead-end street lined with low-income apartment complexes, a garden grows. Almost-ripe zucchini and tomatoes hang from tall plants. The compost heap looks tidy and fertile. Weeds are nowhere to be found, thanks to upkeep by a few dedicated gardeners who can finally breathe a sigh of relief. They get to continue sowing the soil for many more years."

I wrote those words more than 8 years ago for an article in the Columbia Missourian about the Community Garden Coalition. (It was so long ago that the article isn't in the online archives anymore.) I got kudos in the daily staff email from the Editor-in-Chief, who said that I had managed to made even a garden sound interesting. (Maybe because gardens are interesting!) I was so proud - little old me, getting a shout-out from the chief.

Well, it has happened again. I scrolled down Grist's front page to find this posting: Food and the Beloved Community by Grist's ag guru Tom Philpott. It's about community gardens and the legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr., a speech given at the Duke Gardens during an MLK Day of Service event. It caught my eye because I read Philpott's column very often, but also because I had just signed up for the Rooting DC 2009 conference about community gardening, and had also talked with someone today about the civil rights and discrimination issues that the USDA is dealing with. So imagine my surprise when the very first line of the Grist piece, the note before the text, references the organization I helped start! Back in the day, Farmhand was just a bunch of stressed out students shoveling cow poop and cutting brush. The students who took over as Farmhand leaders have done some fantastic work this year, far better than I could ever hope to have done. I'm so proud that this little group has made such an impact that a Grist guru would participate in such an event and write about it in an internationally read and respected forum, no less! Another shout-out from the chief, free publicity for a deserving and accomplished group of students, and inspiration to keep working for change.

Shakespeare in Prison

I just watched the 2005 Sundance documentary "Shakespeare Behind Bars," about a group of prisoners at Luther Luckett Correctional Complex in Kentucky who have formed a theater troupe and present Shakespeare's plays to fellow inmates and family members. This was after listening to "Act V," an episode of NPR's This American Life about a Shakespeare troupe in the Missouri Eastern Correctional Center that is part of the Prison Performing Arts program in Missouri. The two programs initially piqued my interest because I'm a big fan of Shakespeare's work. Of the many things I learned in junior high and high school, the classes that still stick out in my mind are the ones in which we read, nay, dissected A Midsummer Night's Dream and Macbeth, sifting through the words to understand not just the letters and sounds, but also the context of the lines and the inner motivations of the complex and tragic characters who said so much beyond those words. Shakespeare knew human nature well, and he understood the very real, very complicated situations he put his protagonists in. Which is why it is very a propos for prison inmates to be reciting Hamlet and The Tempest.

It was so moving to listen to the inmates in both shows talk about their experiences, what their life was like before being locked up, what they wanted to do when they got out (if they were eligible for parole). A few in the Sundance documentary even talked about the crimes they had committed. These are people who are demonized in cop shows, and yet you forget that they're criminals when you hear them working with the program leaders on a particular line of the play that they're trying to crawl into. You root for the ones who have been in prison for many years and are up for parole hearings soon, and your heart falls when you learn that they have been denied parole, deferred for 5 or 6 years, even though they have played leadership roles in the troupe and in the data lab where many of the inmates work. Aside from the diversion that play practice gives them each day, the inmates participate because everything else about prison life is so dehumanizing (daily strip search, anyone?), but when they're performing, when they're interacting with each other and with Shakespearean scholars in a scene, everyone is on the same level. Everyone is a complex human, examining their own nature and comparing themselves to kings and queens, sons and daughters. So many people say that they fear public speaking more than they fear death, but perhaps to these inmates, many of whom have stared down death, facing their inner demons may be the scariest thing of all. When a person has led a life influenced by poverty, broken homes, and abuse, how terrifying it must feel to dig down deep, expose their vulnerabilities through words written 400 years ago that they can often relate to, and perform in front of their peers. To do such a thing and receive overwhelming praise must feel so empowering.

According to the Luther Luckett website, the annual cost per inmate is more than $16,000 of the taxpayers' money. That's a year of college tuition. It's just under the January 2008 poverty line for a family of three. At an average inmate population of 1,073, that adds up to a very large operating budget. We're spending this much money on people who will be locked up for 20 years or more, but what are we doing to keep them from coming back, spending another $16K on them for each year that they return to a life of crime? The Warden Tom Daily, at the beginning of the film, wishes that the inmates would just put the prison out of business by returning to the outside world and not giving the courts a reason to send them back to jail. How many wardens feel, as he does, that each day of an inmate's life should be spent preparing them to leave?

Fast food guilt trip

I never thought I'd devote this much interweb space to fast food, but then I came across this great piece on Grist about the Whopper Virgins. I had only ever seen the tv commercials, but the actual website has a longer video about the international taste test. The writer makes a better point about food and the United States' role in world cuisine and nutrition. After you watch the videos on the Whopper Virgins website, check out this 20-minute piece from Mark Bittman. Then go get yourself a real meal, preferably home-cooked with fresh ingredients. Don't do it for the environment. Do it for your tastebuds.

Playing with food

Food combinations you may not have thought of that may change your life:

~Salad: mixed greens, diced cooked beets, crumbled goat cheese, sliced fennel bulb, artichoke hearts, balsamic vinegar, olive oil. Emphasis on the fennel. Add tuna or other fish and use honey mustard dressing for another variation.

~ Breakfast: one scoop Berries and Whey protein powder, 1/2 cup quick cook oats, 2 tbsp. toasted flax seeds, 1 cup water. Tastes like the strawberries and cream instant oatmeal packets, yet much better for you. Substitute sliced almonds or walnuts for flax seeds.

~Broccoli slaw: buy it prepackaged or make your own with shredded broccoli stems and carrots. Use liberally. Good with chopped cucumber, tomato, and cottage cheese.

~Trader Joe's Roasted Red Pepper and Artichoke Tapenade: Great on veggie burgers and in pasta.

~White Bean and Basil Hummus: almost as creamy as alfredo sauce when thinned out, but much better for you. Also incredibly addictive when used as a dip with chips.

~Almond butter: sorry, I still think peanut butter wins this one. But almond butter is a healthier option and can do anything peanut butter can do.

~Snack: Greek yogurt, toasted flax seeds, honey. Add fresh or thawed frozen fruit, jam, and/or granola. Substitute agave nectar for honey for a low glycemic index kick.

It's a fine thing we do here in this city

Working for the federal government has its perks, among them being the ability to do good for the nation and the world. But let us not forget the roles we play in our local ecological setting, for the extirpation of one can mean the loss of a whole lot more. As Sasha and Malia Obama prepare to start classes in their new D.C. private school tomorrow, may the Obama family not forget that although the international cameras may be trained on their every move, they are now residents of this fine city as well. And so, Battered D.C. Awaits Arrival of a Presidential 'Partner'.

A new year, another reinvention

On December 29th, 2001, during a pensive trip home from college for an abbreviated winter break, I made some pretty big decisions about my life that set me on the path that led me to where I am now. I have come to refer to it as That Fateful Day. Since then, I have considered that my personal new year, a chance to look back during a time when it's cold and dark and slow and everyone is readying their resolutions to proclaim two days later when the ball drops. Each year, I have found myself pining for variations on the same themes, but due to recent developments in my life, I find that I have reached the end of my list with most of my goals checked off. So what is there left to say? What can I pine for now? The usual things that other people ache for: money. love. lose 10 pounds. get a new hobby. buy a home. Time to start doing the things that people do when they stick their toes in the mud and let it ooze up over their feet. For many years, I spent this Fateful Day looking both backward and forward and I didn't stop to think about the very space I was in. So maybe that's my new goal: try to perfect the things I'm doing right here. Among those will be rediscovering my creativity, which surely means another change in direction of what I put on this page. I'll be learning how to use my camera to its fullest extent, seeing things differently through its lens. Like:




My dear kitty is, of course, a supermodel in her own right, and lots of digital space was filled on two photo shoots with a sunbeam. Not to brag or anything, but...




There will be more resolutions and new mottos for a better way of life, but those words may be couched in new promises and deeds, for we only do what we can with the things that each day gives us. Something to consider: if you don't precisely articulate your conscious desires, your unconscious patterns will come true instead. So cheers to living out our conscious desires, come what may.

As if fast food chains haven't done enough damage already

Have you seen the Burger King commercial in which some BK representatives go to remote areas of the world (where people eat things like whale and seal because that's all there is, which means they have probably never heard of BK or MickeyD's or any of that other poison) and have the natives eat a Whopper and a Big Mac? According to the commercial, these natives prefer the Whopper over the competitor's similar, yet not flame-broiled, greasy lump of gray processed meat and soy filler product. Although, the taste tester then says that, of course, neither option compares to the seal steak waiting for them at home.

Has Burger King not been made aware of the fact that a huge reason for the obesity and diabetes epidemics in Latinos, American Indians, and other populations is that their traditional diets based on things that they have grown in the ground for thousands of years have been replaced by processed food-like products that contain mostly fillers, salt, and sugar? (Just because soy and corn grow in the ground doesn't mean they're healthy as hydrogenated oils and shelf-stable materials, by the way.) Has no one told BK executives that introducing their flame-broiled taste to people in the arctic is probably not the most responsible thing for a company to be doing?

Maybe I'm over-thinking it. But it's one thing to tempt slovenly Americans with such fare. It's another to imply that greasy burgers on processed-flour buns could even compare to traditional diets that keep communities together.

Weapons of mass construction

I've been reading this book called "Three Cups of Tea," by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin. I first learned about the book through an article about Mortenson in an Outside magazine article, and Mortenson is the perfect Outside hero: grew up climbing mountains with missionary parents in Africa, played football in Minnesota, became an Army nurse and general tough guy with a good soul. His failed attempt at climbing K2 in Pakistan led him to a remote village with children dedicated to learning despite the lack of a school or a full-time teacher. Mortenson was so struck by the kindness of the people in the village that he vowed to raise enough money to come back and build the village a school.

I'm at the part now where he finally made it back with the materials for the school, only to learn that before he could build it, he would have to build a bridge to transport the wood, concrete, and other materials across the river. From the Outside article, I know that he succeeded and has made it his life's work to build schools for other villages in Afghanistan and Pakistan, especially for girls. It's hard work, and he's truly a hero. Educating people in remote areas of the world is one of the best ways to ensure that they don't become ensnared in the political and financial grips of extremism like we have seen so much of recently. Mortenson's hard work makes me feel really guilty for whiling away the hours in front of a computer, pretending like the work I do will one day help someone. There's something more I can be doing. I just wish I could figure out what that is. I don't think I'm nearly crazy enough to attempt anything of this magnitude.

In any case, go read the book. It's a true story but reads like good fiction. You know that feeling when you get really wrapped up in a story and your stomach tightens when the protagonist is dealing with some kind of conflict? It's like that, only in fiction, you realize it's not true, whereas in this book, the realization that this really happened makes your stomach tie a double knot. Don't worry, it's worth it. At least, so far.

New food advice

I just found a new source of information on timely and practical cooking advice, as well as some new recipes: Washington Post food blogger Kim O'Donnel. In the past week, I have made her pumpkin pancake and onion tart recipes, much to my delight. Spicy sweet potato soup is up next. Meatless Mondays are especially fantastic. My discovery happily coincides with my dedication to cooking more. Yum.

By the way, I tried, I really did, to adapt to soaking, cooking, and reheating dried beans, but all it did was force me into boring and less-healthy eating patterns. Using dried beans takes a fair amount of time and forethought, and the beans I do cook just end up going bad in the fridge before I can finish them. So I'm going back to canned. Sorry, environment. Sorry, wallet. Actually, maybe not. How much does it cost to fire up three gas range burners for an hour? Perhaps cans really are the better choice...

Did you catch it?

Last week, Jon Stewart told Daily Show guest Bill Kristol that he would have voted for McCain if he had been the Republican nominee in 2000. He didn't elaborate on why. I just find that interesting, that he would have preferred McCain over Gore. Maybe that's why Jon Stewart seems to be especially frustrated with this race. He was really excited and hopeful when McCain had just won the nomination and Obama and Clinton were still duking it out, but obviously McCain has let him down. I don't blame him. McCain was actually really funny on Saturday Night Live last night (so was Ben Affleck - many thanks to him for making fun of Keith Olbermann, who is just as obnoxious and rabid as Bill O'Reilly), and he gave us a glimpse of the charismatic and respectable politician he used to be. I would never vote for McCain, but I value so dearly the back-and-forth of a true policy debate that I'm saddened by the low tactics that McCain and a number of other Republicans have used this year.

Speaking of which, I happened to be up at 2am and heard an interview on the BBC with Oliver Stone, who directed "W". Stone is a hardcore Democrat, but it's so interesting to hear him talk about President Bush as a human being and a pathetic but lovable protagonist in this tragic Shakespearean-esque run of a presidency. I haven't yet seen the movie, but I'm looking forward to it, not because I want to see the man ridiculed on the big screen, but because I want to get to know him beyond his role as the leader of the free world. So many people attack Bush on a personal level, equating his failed policies and skewed world vision with his worth as a person. He's doing what he truly thinks is right, and his failings as a president come from tragic personal flaws, which we all have and which we all fight with every day. It was wrong for the Republican party to put up for election such an unqualified candidate, and it was wrong for the American people to fall for the ruse. I still maintain that if Bush were just some guy who still owned a baseball team and paraded around as the President's son, we'd love him the way we love our favorite team mascot. The same goes for Sarah Palin, really. I hope that after January 20th, 2009, both the Bush family and the Palin family go back home, take care of their families, and learn the value of community organizing. Their time on the national stage is drawing nigh.

A music endorsement and some DC randomness

Last Friday I went to Solly's on 11th and U St to check out Read Underwater, a one-man band who also happens to be my friend Andy. I've seen him play before, but Solly's is a much more intimate space than previous places he has played. Either he played some new songs or the old ones sounded new. In any case, go to Solly's for some cool local talent, and check out Read Underwater's music as well. The music is kind of like Radiohead, and Andy does some amazing things with all the pedals and knobs that somehow record and play back loops over each other. Andy also has great stage presence, so he really feels like everyone's friend while he's performing.

Regarding other DC randomness, tonight I enjoyed the sights and sounds of the annual High Heel Race. It's basically a bunch of drag queens in high heels and costumes parading up and down 17th Street, then racing two blocks in those high heels. In 45-degree weather. Fantastic. It always happens the Tuesday before Halloween, so mark your calendars for next year. It's no Halloween parade in Boys Town in Chicago, but still a good time. DC feels a little bit more like home.

Oh yeah. I also saw Donald Rumsfeld walking down the street last week. It was definitely him. I looked around to see if anyone else noticed it was him, but none of the rush-hour faces showed any sign of recognition. I felt like I was in LA, getting star-struck at the sight of some actor brunching at a local cafe. My first political sighting. Now I'm definitely a DC resident now.

In defense of this city

I have loved Washington DC since I came here during a class trip when I was 16 years old. It was my first taste of big-city living in 2001, and I appreciate it even more now after living in Chicago for 3 years. People think DC is just politicians, but if you don't work in politics, it doesn't feel any different than any other city. Except that Congress must approve any changes in District laws and the WaPost covers national politics and national issues much more visibly than local stories. I'm finding it hard to generalize the DC population, which is a good thing. In any case, amid the calls from politicians to "change Washington", what they really mean is "change the national government" because DC, as a city, is doing a pretty good job these days. Read this article by the former Editor-in-Chief of the Washington Post. When I moved here, I gave myself 5 years before deciding where to go next. I've only been here 3 months, but I'm starting to think it might become a much longer gig.

Another bar review

Bourbon on 18th Street has $3 draft (we're talking Bells, Abita, Allagash, and others) and supposedly some good bourbon happy hour specials, they play Portishead in the bar, and they have homemade veggie, ostrich, bison, or crab cake burgers with smoked gouda and bourbon BBQ sauce, waffle, curly, or shoestring fries, bourbon baked beans or sweet potato chips, all at very reasonable prices. Yum. (Although the veggie burger could use some rice, barley, or beans to give it some more structure.) A neighborhood bar for foodies.

They have another location in Glover Park as well. Go, eat, drink and be merry.

No!

According to Minnesota Governor Tim Pawlenty on Meet the Press this morning, Republican Vice Presidential nominee Sarah Palin thinks that the theory of intelligent design carries the same weight as the theory of evolution and that schools should teach both theories side-by-side. If schools were required to include the theory of intelligent design as part of their curriculum, does this mean that churches would be required to teach the theory of evolution as well? What are the chances of that happening?

For the record, Pawlenty says that he too feels that the theory of intelligent design (to which he ascribes) carries the same weight as the theory of evolution, but that it's a local decision regarding whether schools should teach both.

Down with the pundits, up with the locals

I used to be fascinated by politics. I used to have things to say about running mates and speeches and taking sides on issues. Politics used to be interesting. Now, the national races are all a show and the local races don't get much air or print time. There's nothing I could say that hasn't already been said to death. The pundits killed my will to pontificate. Nothing is a mystery in national politics anymore. New goal: learn more about the local politics, which is where public service matters most. That will take some digging. As a newspaper with national prominence, the Washington Post features mostly national and world news on its main web page. But the shadow senate race is interesting, and I just got my brochure on the local primaries happening September 9th, so there's much to learn. So the Local button on the WaPo website will be getting more of a workout, and there are surely plenty of locally focused websites out there, catching the news the mainstream media miss. In a town where people mostly pay attention to only the Capitol Hill gang, where DC residents pay taxes but have no real national representation (even our license plates proclaim that conundrum), local politics couldn't be more important. The pundits have yet to beat that dead horse.

Here's what I have learned so far: in local races, some younger people, inspired mostly by the Obama campaign, have started to run for seats in the D.C. Democratic State Committee. But they're being hampered by old school pols who don't want to let new faces in. They complain that the newcomers don't even know which ward represents them (oops, I don't know that either...). After that story was published, D.C. Democratic Party spokesperson David Meadows responded with this letter to the editor. It will be interesting to follow this story and other local races, both Democrats and Republicans. U.S. Congresswoman Eleanor Holmes Norton appears occasionally on the Colbert Report, and she's pushing hard for D.C. voting rights, but the D.C. Democratic party's push on the national party platform is at odds with the D.C. Green party's push for statehood. So that will be an interesting fight as well. Stay tuned for more.