weekend

We missed out on the really nice fall colors when the weather was still nice, but this weekend Kirsten and I did manage to sneak in a short walk in the woods of Rock Creek Park before the truly freezing temperatures arrived (there were actual snowflakes in the air today, although none of them survived the trip to the ground). Rock Creek remains one of my favorite things about the city - there's something soul-cleansing about being able to travel less than a mile from our house and end up on a trail in the forest without visible signs of being in the heart of the city. It's a shame we haven't taken advantage of the park's picnic areas, which include fire pits - a barbecue must be on the agenda for the spring.

We had grand ideas about hitting up some culture this weekend (it's been a while since I just spent a day wandering the museums) but instead we defaulted to crass commercialism when we heard National Geographic was holding a warehouse sale. Basically, cheap books piled up by the pallet load. Not a good idea to put me in the middle of a book sale for science, history and nature books but I managed to have enough self-discipline to keep the tab relatively low (at $10 a book - the big ones - not too bad).

It was a National Geographic-themed day, as our next stop was the NG museum downtown. Te Papa (New Zealand's national museum, and a frequent stop for my Wellington wanderings, as well as the venue for one of my many temp jobs down there) was holding a traveling exhibition on whales in conjunction with NatGeo. In keeping with NZ official policy, all the exhibits had Maori translations - a nice way to send my mind traveling back to the islands.

We also had big plans to hit up a few galleries participating in FotoWeek, although those were sacrificed to time issues. Maybe before the week is out.

dancing in the streets

Kirsten and I watched the election results at a friend's house, with about 20 people, some of whom had already left by the time the West Coast polls closed and the Networks called the race for Obama. We stayed to watch John McCain's speech, which meant we missed the last Metro train home. Walking among horns blaring, we caught a bus where the mood of the driver and passengers can only be described as jubilant. There were several impromptu street parties in D.C. that night, including a large gathering of people outside the White House. We missed those, but no matter where you were around midnight after the election you couldn't miss the horns honking in celebration and the people on the sidewalks chanting Obama.

The result excited me as well, although not without trepidation. I don't think there's much the government can do to turn around the economy, although I imagine there are many things they could do that would make it worse. I don't yet believe that a huge majority in Congress will actually translate into major policy changes for the good of the country instead of individual grabs for more power and money. And I don't know if Obama can hang on to the excitement that clearly existed for his candidacy.

But for me the biggest promise of Obama was that he appears to want to know. He wants to examine all facets of a policy decision, to see if it could really work. He wants to hear dissenting views. He wants to get the details right.

This could be an illusion. The shine could tarnish, and we could find out once again the politicians tend to be more interested in their own electoral interests than the country's. We could find out the challenges of the moment, which will almost certainly call for sacrifice and tough decisions politically, are too much.

But I hope the feeling that had people celebrating in the streets with total strangers Tuesday night and Wednesday morning carries over, at least a little bit, for the next few years.

Like everyone else that actually lives in D.C., the only time I ever actually go and visit the iconic landmarks of the city is when someone comes to visit. There are plenty of spots in this city I have on my to-see list, but that list rarely gets anything crossed off of it when there isn't someone else providing the motivation to not simply stay on the couch.

But I enjoy it, every time, going out among the unwashed tourist hordes. And thankfully, my uncle gave me the needed impetus this month when he arrived in Washington for a week-long visit.

Among the items on his itinerary was a tour of the Capitol, arranged by the office of his Senator in Montana (who wasn't in town for our visit, but a few days before his trip to D.C. my uncle saw the Senator in the hardware store and briefly visited with him - the Senator is an old softball friend. This seems to me to be a pretty good illustration of something about Montana, but I'm not sure exactly what). In my previous year and a half of D.C. residence, I had not seen the inside of the Capitol building - the last (and only) time I'd been inside was in 1995, when we got a tour as part of a high school trip. Needless to say, I did not have a perfect memory of all the interior details - or any of them. It had just seemed like too much of a hassle to actually wait in line for a Capitol tour or to try to set a date for a staffer-led tour. But having someone else set up a tour was perfect.

The Capitol is the most imposing building in D.C., and is even more so when you consider the fact it was built essentially in what was the middle of a cow pasture and some forestland. And there are areas inside the Capitol that have the same aura - mainly in the Rotunda under the dome, lined with paintings of battle. But the most striking thing about the Captitol's interior is how cramped, dim and unglamorous much of it is. Many of the "corridors of power" are narrow, dark passageways - often with a statue thrown up, seemingly anywhere it would fit. Offices of Congressmen are tucked into corners where you'd expect nothing more than a broom closet, or along a basement hallway with exposed pipes on the ceiling. Some of the older areas, where the earliest meetings of Congress took place, are dark enough, surrounded by interior walls of thick stone, I can't imagine how things worked before the advent of electric lighting. Even the House chamber, which looks like such a large auditorium in tracking shots during the State of the Union, is surprisingly small and utilitarian.

In all, I like this better than I would if it was all high ceilings, white marble and trappings of glory. There's some of that, to be sure, but the more austere bits seem as though they are there to insert some a much-needed reminder of the responsibility of the place, of the work to be done, of the fact all the power of the place comes from being representatives of the people.

Or maybe such things are lost on those that actually work there, where the power of the positions is easier to drink in, and certainly more heady. In this, more cynical view, I think the symbolism is no less appropriate - the grand image of government, up close loses much of the glamour.

Nationals Park

All summer, I've had this post started and sitting in my draft folder. I guess at least this way I'll get it out before the World Series is over:

Washington, D.C.'s new baseball stadium - Nationals Park - opened this spring, giving the capital's new team a brand-new stadium after three years of playing in the crumbling confines of RFK Stadium. The beginning of the season brought high hopes for a decent team and a signature park.

Unfortunately, neither wish was fulfilled.

The team has been miserable, hit by injuries and a lock to have triple-digit losses. The park isn't quite as bad as the performances it has housed, but it, too, certainly is a disappointment.

The pre-opening promotional materials hyped the park as continuing in the best tradition of the post-Camden Yards "retro" parks. But the best features of the truely old parks and the new crop of imitators are the intimacy and charm - two aspects completely missing from Nationals Park.

The D.C. area offers many architectural gems the park could have played off. It could have incorporated aspects of the Capitol dome, the only major landmark visible from the stadium. It could have put in subtle classical touches, maybe some columns to mimic the Jefferson and Lincoln memorials. Alternatively, it could have made the most of its location in a former industrial area, and gone with an exposed brick-and-steel construction which has worked for several of the other new parks.

Instead, the decision was apparently made to go with another option. The architects appear to have toured the city of Washington, and decided the most exciting style along the streets were not the classical symbols of government. Instead, they went with the buildings that housed the actual workers of that government - the park appears to have been based on the style of the hulking concrete Federal offices that blot the downtown landscape.

The outside of Nationals Park is a solid wall of white concrete rising out of the street, broken only by a few windows on the back side of the team's offices and luxury suites. On the one side where the seats end at street level, offering a view outside the stadium to the surrounding streets, the single-worst aspect of the park destroys what could have been a redeeming street plaza.

Right where the left-field upper deck ends, in the middle of what would have been the line of sight toward the Capitol and the National Mall, stands a five-story parking garage.

It is the most visible feature of the park for the vast majority of fans who arrive at the stadium via the nearest Metro station, and it's just the most glaring example of the way good things have been overshadowed by the areas where the stadium doesn't live up to the potential.

The view of the Captiol, for instance. Thanks to the parking garage in left-field, the dome is only visible from a handful of the upper upper-deck seats. The team also made a big deal of the decision to plant a row of cherry trees along the plaza in left field, which would in theory provide an iconic view in early spring when the pink-blossomed trees dominate the scenery along Washington's streets. In reality, the handful of trees are too few to draw the eye, except as out-of-place oddities.

There are bright spots, especially in the conveniences for fans.

There are enough different concession options that I heard someone describe the stadium as a "baseball field surrounded by a food court." The description wasn't meant to be complimentary, but when you attend a game as a fan it is nice to have more options than just the usual hot dog and pretzels. The options include several local vendors and there are some decent values to be had (for a stadium).

The high-def scoreboard is large enough for a clear picture everywhere in the park, without dominating the scene. The display got better as the season went along - at first, it was occasionally hard to find such obscure information as the score of the game, but by the end of the season they found a way to include the necessary information along with the flashier offerings.

In the end, though, what stands out about Nationals Park aren't the things that work well. It's all the ways in which the park could have been good, but just isn't.

fall, with a vengence

After weeks (months) of 80+ degree temperatures, this week all of a sudden there's a chill in the air and the trees have started to turn. Summer has officially left the greater D.C. area, to be mourned by me until the leaves start to return sometime in March.

I did take advantage of the last weekend. My uncle was in town from Montana, and we spent time in Baltimore with my sister, and then took a trip to Great Falls and a surprisingly strenuous hike among the rocks lining the river.

A tour of the Capitol, a hockey game and a few other adventures followed. Now the family visit is over, fall has clearly arrived and I'm just hoping for a few good snowfalls to get me through the winter.

politics

Every so often I'm asked by people who don't live in D.C. what it's like being in D.C. during a big political event like, say, this election.

The answer is, it's not much different. There might be a few more people who pay attention to the politics, since there are definitely more people who are paid to pay attention to politics. But for someone who isn't working in the government or dealing with the feds only occasionally does the being geographically near the workings of power change my perception.

For example, this morning several news sites ran a story on Dick Cheney having heart problems and going into the hospital. Of course, the focus was on the fact that the Vice President of the United States was experiencing a health problem, even if relatively minor. This is news.

In D.C., the perspective is a bit different; for a local blog the news wasn't the Vice President's heart trouble. The real news was the traffic impact Cheney's motorcade would have on people trying to navigate the streets near the hospital.

That's how politics affects you differently living in D.C. - the big issues aren't any different (unless you happen to be one of the people actually working on them). But the actual workings of government can actually touch you in a tangible way.

move, completed

We're still living among mounds of unpacked boxes and our furniture situation is in a state of flux, but at least we're moved in.

It's been nearly a month since we moved from one part of Northwest D.C. to another part of Northwest D.C. (we moved north and east, ending up near here). The first week after we moved in, neither of us spent enough time at the new apartment to bother to unpack anything (I was working 16 hour days and Kirsten was out of town for work). So what is at best a slow process - unpacking - became even slower. At least now we've got most of the boxes opened, a few of them emptied and even have furniture arranged (figuring out how to fit things in the living room took the better part of a weekend). Now the wishlist includes things like unpacking the final few boxes, figuring out where everything goes (instead of simply piling loose ends on top of the unpacked boxes), trading up from our free couch and acquiring a desk to configure some sort of computer work space (although just hauling out the dual laptops in the living room works too, I guess).

I can see a future, someday, when every surface isn't covered with loose ends. I don't know why I think such a future exists, since my past has mostly been filled with loose ends everywhere, but such dreams are nice to hold on to.

rain, rain, sent away

Last night was to be the final home game of the season for the Washington Nationals. Instead, a few hundred fans showed up to sit through a two-hour rain delay before the game was finally canceled without a player ever taking the field.

It was kind of fitting for this Nationals season - they're about to lose 100 games - and to be honest, it was easier sitting through two hours of rain delay than it would have been to watch a bad outing of baseball one more time.

new buses

Saw these the other day on my way to work - it's apparently a new bus design for the D.C. city buses.

You can see the current bus design here. These buses look a little like the D.C. Circulator especially with the partial solid-red color scheme, but are more rounded.

nearing the end

Sunset at Nationals Park
Originally uploaded by slack13

I'm out out Nationals Park for one of the last games I'll see this season (my personal countdown has me working four more games).

I won't really be sad to see this season gone - the Nationals have rarely been pleasurable to watch, and I'm about done of the long days I end up with when I work a day job and a night game. When I do a full three-game series, like this week, my sleep total takes a serious hit.

But I've had a chance to be out at the park for probably more than 20 games this summer, and I've also seen games in Baltimore and Seattle - a good summer all around. I need to put up a few more park reviews, I suppose.

A preview of the Nationals Park review: this photo shows one of the nicest aspects of the park - the view of the Capitol - and also gives a glimpse of the worst aspects of the park - the parking garage in left field that blocks the view for everyone that's not in the upper upper deck.

one more

department of defense police
Originally uploaded by slack13

Perhaps this is one too many entries on D.C.'s police forces (or three too many?) but for the first time I have a photo, and of a logo that had befuddled me for some time.

I'd seen these cars driving around, but couldn't figure out exactly what entity they were policing for - only that the cars were more gaudily colored than the average cruiser in this city. Caught this one parked on a curb and was finally able to identify the shield on the side: The Department of Defense.

Makes sense, I suppose, that they'd have a police force (or at least as much sense as, say, the Housing Authority having a police force) but I think they could do a better job of identification.

adding on

Today I added two new sightings to my police force list:

1. I discovered the Government Printing Office has its own police
force. Unanswered is the question why.

2. Parked in the bowels of union station are a fleet of Amtrak police.
At least this makes some sense, although I'm not sure if train robbery
is quite as common as it was, say, 100 years ago.

moving

Our lease is up at the end of the month, and we're looking for a new place. (Right now we're essentially in a semi-private studio apartment which is the basement of a shared house, and we'd like to get more space and fewer roommates).

We've been casually looking for a few weeks, and looked a bit less casually this past weekend. The first group of places that met the budget we'd decided on were not particularly exciting. Monday, though, we found a place that met most of the criteria we were looking for. We put in an application, and are waiting for a verdict. It'd be nice if it came through, but we've still got about three weeks to look if it doesn't.

We're already gearing up for a move, and I'm not sure we ever really unpacked from the move out here. Moving is the usual way of things, though, as far as I'm concerned. Only once since leaving my parents' house and setting out on my own have I stayed in one spot for more than a year - that was a house in Hattiesburg (which cost less than half - for the whole house - of the rental price of any one-bedroom we're looking at).

Last night we stumbled into a new pub quiz spot, after finding out our usual Tuesday stop was not offering trivia that particular night.

The quiz was so-so, but the Tuesday night half-price burgers were definitely worth it. They aren't quite the best quiz night deal, but it's not bad.

After finishing the burger, I couldn't finish the fries, and I literally felt myself digesting for the rest of the night. I think I was still full this morning.

West Wing, the tour

A few weekends ago, my brother dropped by D.C. for a few days to play tourist.

However, before he left he spent one afternoon being a tour guide, or at least a facilitator. Turns out, one of his college acquaintances happens to work in the West Wing of the White House, so we got a private tour one Sunday afternoon.

For those who are huge fans of the TV series of the same name, the West Wing might be a disappointment. It looks little or nothing like the set of the series. Other than the fancy touches (huge blow-ups of photographs by the White House photographer, original portraits of historical presidents, American art everywhere, and the general trappings of power) it generally looks like a well-carpeted office building. Walls instead of cubicles, and better suits, but the general feel stays the same.

So in general it's just offices, but of course the fun is in the details. Such as the Roosevelt room with dual portraits of Teddy and Franklin, with the story being the portraits are rotated depending on the party affiliation of the administration. Currently, the portrait of Teddy is on top. With any luck, in a few months Franklin will take the spot of honor.

There's the newly renovated press briefing room, complete with engraved name plates at the base of each chair. (The front row goes something like: NBC, ABC, Helen Thomas, CBS, CNN). Then a quick jaunt up and around through the halls, and you end up in front of the Oval Office. A different hallway leads behind, to the Rose Garden. Then duck through a door to see the actual working offices of the people behind the Office.

Across the street is one of my favorite buildings in D.C. - the Old Executive Office Building.

The building is built in a grand French style, with columns dotting the exterior and wide, sweeping staircases and hallways inside.

The most ornate room is the Indian Treaty Room - which never saw an Indian Treaty signing. But it does have a grand tile floor, a balcony and the gleaming touches designed to impress. Also a nice view of the White House across the (closed to the public) street.

In all, a day spent looking at places I never expected to see despite living in this city.

Seattle photos

Seattle library


Space Needle


Our Seattle show - the band was an eight-piece, growing to as many as 10 when they brought up guests from the audience.


Sci-Fi Hall of Fame


EMP guitar sculpture


EMP lobby

Seattle

Sorry, Seattle. You might be fighting for the top of the attractive list here in the States (or at least a strong runner-up to San Francisco) but you've got no chance when Vancouver is in the running.

So after the better part of a week in Vancouver, we headed to Seattle. Seattle might not quite match up to Vancouver for scenery - the mountains and the beaches are both further away - but it's still one of my favorite cities in the country.

It doesn't hurt that every time I've been in Seattle the weather has been at its best (not really a true test of the city, of course). And Priceline gave us a deal on a high-rise downtown hotel, putting us right in the center of the tourist stops.

Of course, the first day you have to hit the Pike Place Market. Then a ferry ride over to West Seattle, where we walked along the ocean-front road, checking out a few shops and enjoying the sun shining over the water. Time nearly ran out on us before we got back across the water for a half-price baseball game in one of the best stadiums I've been to (more on that in another post).

Another day took us to the very oddly designed Experience Music Project at the foot of the Space Needle. The EMP is something of a museum for music (although mostly guitar-heavy rock music, with an emphasis on Jimi Hendrix). The EMP has a especially cool feature on the top floor: a series of booths equipped with guitars, drums, keyboards and the like along with interactive demonstrations of how to play. The guitar station felt a little like a much more realistic version of "Guitar Hero" (this one actually has strings). Kirsten threw down the rhythm guitar part of "Smells Like Teen Spirit."

Guitars played into our evening outing as well - in Seattle, you've got to hit a show, right? At least that's what I learned a decade ago from watching "Singles." The locals said there was one show with local bands that stood above the rest, so we pulled out a bus map and headed North to the Ballard neighborhood and the Tractor Tavern.

Ballard is an area I wouldn't have otherwise ventured out to, but it was a good destination - a strip with coffeeshops, restaurants and clubs, along with the required quota of hipsters. The show was good, the beer was good - what more could you ask for?

Unfortunately, our West Coast swing ended with red-eye flights the next evening, which for me lead directly into a day of work on minimal sleep and then a big July 4 weekend. Jumping back into the East Coast humidity mostly makes me long to head back West.

Vancouver

Vancouver
Originally uploaded by ecstaticist

I want to move to Vancouver.

It's not an unusual feeling to get back from vacation and wish you could return to the destination, to once again free yourself from your day-to-day life with different geography. I'm sure there's some of this in my desire to return to Vancouver. Certainly the city showed me its very best - the entire time we were there, I basked in sunshine and just-right summer temperatures.

But there's more to it than that. Even though I keep moving East or South, at heart I want to be on the West Coast. And Vancouver has advantages no other city has (although with two big disadvantages that I'm going to list right here: 1) the weather can't always be this good, and I'm fairly sure most of the time it's downright bad; and 2) my first day I wandered through neighborhoods which literally reeked of desperation and poverty (well, they literally reeked of urine, mostly, but the other things too). It's a little jarring to go directly from the shopping districts of downtown, decide to return by going one block in a different direction, and end up picking your way through people with needles sticking out of their arm. D.C. certainly has its share of problems, but it seemed to be more visible in Vancouver, or maybe we just haven't taken such a wrong turn in D.C.).

The advantages start with the surrounding natural scenery. The city runs right up against the mountains to the north, which rise right up out of the harbor. Downtown opens onto a large wooded peninsular park, which is bordered by a waterfront walk and a number of surprisingly good (but small) beaches.

The neighborhoods (outside of the aforementioned skid row, which actually had a couple of hostels I later saw advertised online and could only cringe at the thought of some of the unsuspecting travelers who must have booked there) provided varied experiences, from the downtown towers to the trendy revitalized Gaslight district, to the parks and condos of the West End, to the slightly grungier feel of Commercial Drive. Downtown is compact and walkable. The transport system is serviceable. The sushi place we stumbled onto was amazing.

And there were the beaches. Who knew Vancouver had beaches, especially ones that invited you to throw down a towel and bask in the sun? (There were always plenty of Vancouverites doing just that, but the skin tones betrayed the obvious fact there must not have been many previous weekends with enough sun to bask in.)

My favorite beach was the clothing-optional Wreck Beach, not only for the obvious reasons. Essentially located on the University of British Columbia campus, the beach was packed and had a very fun vibe - from the clothing vendors selling tie-died skirts and wraps (an interesting business, selling clothes to nudists) to the food vendors (personally, I'd wear clothes while operating a barbeque grill, but that's just me) to the masses of people chilling out on the beach, or enjoying the water, or playing sports on the beach. Very easy-going vibe, and about half of the crowd split onto either side of the "optional" choice. It's a long way from downtown, where I spent most of my time, and where the more traditional beach-going crowd could be found.

As far as I can tell without doing any research, Vancouver is the only city in the world where beaches and a skiing area are both reachable by public transport. This is nearly everything I've ever wanted in a city, and there's so much more to like. Like the fact it's in Canada, which seems to me to be the U.S.'s relaxed cousin. The stunning visuals. The plethora of dining/shopping/drinking options. Even the hot dogs from the street vendors just seemed better than the hot dogs in D.C. (and they were better, far better - the last time I bought a hot dog from a stand near the mall, the bun was moldy. In D.C. you get a hot dog, and a bun. That's it. In Vancouver I got a sausage, a non-moldy bun as well as grilled peppers and onion. Paradise!)

I did little while in Vancouver other than wander around the streets, eventually find a waterfront, chill out on a beach for a while, then wander the streets some more. I did go to the Museum of Anthropology and gawk at all the examples of totem poles. I also found myself at the Vancouver Gallery of Art at 2 a.m.

The Gallery had an exhibit showcasing comics, animation and video games - a grouping I wanted to see. Then I found out the museum was putting on a special event while I was there, opening its doors from 6 p.m. - 6 a.m. one night, and hosting D.J.s and bands in addition to the exhibit. This made for an excellent night, especially since the gallery was directly across the street from our hotel, so I could stumble home and go straight to bed when I was done with the fun.

blogging

Not that anyone cares, but I'll have updates on my West Coast swing as well as the Fourth of July holiday here in our nation's capital (where your freedom reigns) - just not until this weekend. It's a busy week - working during the day, then out at the baseball stadium at night.

Suffice to say, the West Coast vacation was wonderful, and the 4th was a lot of fun with my brother in town and a choice spot to see the fireworks over the Mall. However, what the weekend wasn't was restful.

west coast

We're in Vancouver for the next few days (and then a few days in Seattle before returning East). Already, I'm loving the fact I can actually see snow-covered mountains on the horizon, as well as the water. I miss both living in D.C.

Ithaca=gorges

The town slogan - Ithaca is gorges - makes for an easy-to-overuse pun. And overuse it I did last weekend, during a quick trip to Ithaca.

The gorges in question are a few deeply-cut waterways on the edges of town. Not far on the edges, either - one of them ends in a waterfall about three blocks from the house where we were staying, which was itself just three blocks from the center of Ithaca's downtown.

Beyond the gorges, Ithaca itself is a quirky college town well away from anything else in upstate New York. Our weekend trip coincided (not really coincidentally) with the town festival, which turned the main downtown strip into a market. The street was lined with tent stalls, each filled with some sort of craft for sale - unless it was food for sale. Two stages featured live music. There was nothing particularly unique about the event, although as always it's more fun to visit an area filled with people enjoying themselves (and it didn't hurt that the weather was perfect).

Of more interest to me was the opportunity to take my own day trip to the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, a 2 1/2 hour drive from Ithaca.

Perhaps it's from being spoiled, living in a city filled with Smithsonians, but I was slightly surprised by the size of the HOF
. For as many artifacts as the place must have, the two floors of exhibits are just a taste. There were a few display areas were it seemed the hall had tried too hard for a clean and modern museum look, and the spacious rooms were sparsely decorated.

Where the hall shone were the areas that were far more crammed in with displays and artifacts. The first few displays on the history of the game were the most fulfilling, mostly because they played to my bias - the older the baseball era, the more fascinated I am by it.

An exhibit allowing you to virtually explore a computer rendering of Ebbetts Field or Boston's South End Grounds was great, but left me wanting more parks. (I wanted to see the Polo Grounds and the Baker Bowl).

The last spot hit is the actual hall filled with the plaques of those selected for induction. It was a respectfully somber and inspiring area to wander about and read the accomplishments of the biggest names in the sport. The only downside is the sometimes atrocious likenesses on the plaques.

Make no mistake - I loved the hall. Walking among the pieces of baseball history was exactly how I wanted to spend the afternoon. There were just a few things I wished were there but weren't. Perhaps No. 1 on my wish list would be an area with a computer station to browse through video/audio of old games. There is a small area honoring broadcasters and writers who have covered the game throughout the years, but few examples of their work. If I had the ability to sit and watch old game broadcasts, or at least clips of historic moments, I could spend days doing so.

rem/modest mouse

Wednesday night, we braved the traffic (which wasn't all that bad) and headed up to Maryland to see R.E.M. and Modest Mouse.

(It was a good deal for me. R.E.M. happens to be my wife's favorite band, and the concert happened to be on her birthday. Gift. Easy.)

I'm actually a bigger fan of Modest Mouse, or at least I listen to Modest Mouse far more often. I hadn't seen them in person before, and after seeing them at an outdoor amphitheater in front of a crowd obviously there for another band, I have to say MM would be much better suited to a small club than an expansive outdoor setting (although it's pretty hard to compare their set, without any extra stage decoration or A/V displays, to R.E.M., which had giant big screens constantly showing video tied to the music).

Before we went I knew to expect the oddest thing about Modest Mouse: the fact that lead singer Issac Brock sounds like he should be a thin hipster but actually looks like an aging frat guy. No matter - I'm still a fan of the sound and the lyrics.

The new odd thing I noted was the fact the band's stage presence seemed to hint at an odd chemistry - Brock was set up well to one side of the stage, while all his bandmates congregated well on the other side. Again, no matter as far as the listener is concerned.

So the MM set simply made me want to see them again in the future, preferably in a smaller, darker venue.

R.E.M., however, is the perfect band for an expansive outdoor setting. The visual props help, but after decades of practice the band has a simply amazing stage presence. Stipe was joking with the crowd, talking just enough to give the crowd the feeling he was showing them something personal, but not enough to get in the way of the songs. And the songs filled the space, energized the crowd. Where the space and disinterested crowd seemed to swallow Modest Mouse, the R.E.M. experience more than filled the area.

I haven't listened to much of the new album (or, really, much of anything they've released since Automatic for the People). I don't consider myself much of a fan of R.E.M., although I do appreciate the sound, but they certainly shine in a concert setting. There's enough singles from different eras in the catelog they could slip a few in for everyone in between the newer or more obscure selections.

It didn't hurt that the sun went down just before they took the stage, turning the spotlight on them even more. It's been a while since we've seen a large-scale show, and this was a good one.

rain delay

Thankfully, I've managed to avoid being stuck covering any baseball games with a rain delay so far this year.

Unfortunately, tonight I'm out at a soccer game which is in its second rain delay. It's going to be a long evening.

s-p-e-l-l-i-n-g b-e-e

This weekend I landed one of the more unique assignments I've had (certainly the one which got the most reaction when I told people). I attended the National Spelling Bee as a credentialed representative for the Associated Press (no, I didn't write the story you read in your paper. I was assisting.)

The oddest thing about being at the spelling bee, other than the fact I was at a spelling bee, was the atmosphere. The finals of the bee were held Friday night and were shown on ABC, which meant one thing to the audience: we were subjected to TV time-outs.

The setting was a hotel conference room, and there were no monitors set up to show ABC's coverage. So to start, a couple of kids would walk in front of the mic, spell a word, then everyone would wait and go dead quiet as an announcement as made: ABC is in a five-minute commercial break. ABC is showing a taped feature. ABC is in a six-minute commercial break.
Then another couple kids would spell, and everything would stop again. I can't imagine this was good for the nerves of whoever was up next when the action stopped.

The finals took just over the two hours allocated, and the pace moved up in the last half hour or so - there was a sigh of relief from the crowd when just before 10 p.m. the producer announced ABC had taken its final commercial break.

The spelling itself was as expected - I can't believe how easy the 12- and 13-year-olds (and even 11- and as young as 8-year-olds) make it seem. I can honestly say of the eight or so rounds we watched Friday night, I was able to spell about four words, which was four more than I'd expected.

And I have to say, I liked the winner. He just had an air about him that said he was having fun with the whole thing.

Memorial Day

Memorial Day in D.C., and I had to head down to the tourist center of the city, right? It made sense to me, at least.

I probably should have gone to Arlington Cemetery, to really honor the holiday as it was intended. But I've seen Arlington recently. So instead, I decided to use my free day to wait in line at the National Archives to see the original Declaration of Independence and Constitution (and the Magna Carta, which might have been the biggest draw for me, and turned out to not have a wait at all, once inside the building).

I've been in the Archives a number of times in the past year, but after the usual 20-minute wait to get in the building, I've never felt like spending another 30 or 45 minutes in line to actually get into the Rotunda where the featured documents are on display. Instead, I've been happy enough to wander the exhibits in the Archive's museum space, with selected documents and displays from various points in the nation's history.

Today being Memorial Day, however, I resolved to stick out the lines to the end. When I arrived mid-morning I was pleasantly surprised to see the line only reach the end of the block, without making the turn I had pessimistically expected.

I was even happier once inside - to begin, the Magna Carta (set up by itself in a corner) happened to be right there, even before the line for the rotunda formed. The Latin charter doesn't have the same "it" factor over here as the documents that directly founded our country. Fair enough.

The line for the rotunda was only about 20 minutes, which shocked me. Before the guards allowed each small group into the Rotunda, there was a short speech. The main points: no flash photography, and there is no line inside the rotunda - just be courteous to everyone around you.

The displays take up about half of the rotunda (the other half is set aside for the line of people waiting). The featured exhibits are in the center of the arc, at the furthest point from where the line reaches the admittance area. The Declaration is on the left, the Constitution in the center, and the original resolution passing the Bill of Rights to the states for ratification on the right. Flanking these documents on either side are a handful of display cases showing other important documents from the country's history.

It is this area in which we are repeatedly told, "There is no line." So of course, every time a group of 20 people or so are admitted, 15 of them immediately head left and line up single-file behind the people who were previously admitted and are lined up single-file to shuffle along the displays in order. As these people stand in place near the center of the floor, I headed right and saw the ancillary displays, then wandered to the Bill of Rights. I headed left and checked out those displays, taking advantage of gaps in the lined-up where individuals lingered longer than those ahead of them. Then, as yet another group entered the chamber and added to the single-file line, I spotted gaps in the crowd around the Declaration, then the Constitution.

The Declaration and the Bill of Rights have not been treated well by time. Nearly ever signature has faded away to invisibility on the Declaration - only John Hancock's mark is still there, but is blurred and dim.

The Constitution, however, is still readable. As you look at the document, you can see the firm hand of Jacob Shallus, who engrossed the document (a word I learned only through a pamphlet kindly provided me by the Archives) and actually put pen to paper for the official copy. Once your eye adjusts to the handwritten flourishes (two guys trying to read Article I next to me commented on the difficulty: "Who writes in script anymore?") you can actually follow the outlines of our governmental system, clause by clause.

grass, or not

No grass on the National Mall

Even after a year in D.C. I still love heading down to the National Mall on a sunny afternoon. The wide lawn is the gathering spot for tourists and summer festivals, and even before the summer starts it's showing the effects of those who have gathered so far.

Last summer, they had the grassy center of the Mall roped off. I wonder if there's any way to actually keep the grass growing through the summer and allow the hordes to walk on it?

mystery solved

Many years ago, I was on a visit to D.C. and stumbled across a wondrous, magical place.

Looking for a place to have a drink on a weeknight, we found an ad in the free weekly paper for a drink special. I don't remember what it was, exactly, but it enticed us to walk a few blocks from DuPont Circle (in my memory, it was close to about two blocks. My memory is generally not to be trusted).

When we arrived at our destination, we found our way to a basement bar with a handful of other people. This is, actually, one of my favorite times to be at a bar, if it's the right sort of bar. This was the right sort. A basement, possibly with an unfinished concrete floor, a few decorations, low-level lighting, some obscure music turned down low enough not to hinder conversation, with just a few people - the type of people who are going to hang out in a sparsely populated basement on a Tuesday night and drink cheap beer.

What really set this bar apart from the rest, however, was a special announced by a sign behind the bartender. The night's high Scrabble score won a free bar tab. Abandoned on a nearby table was a Scrabble board. We played a game and gave the high score to the bartender, who promptly told us we were the only players of the night and at least some of our drinks would be on the house.

Years later, I returned to D.C. My fond memories of the Scrabble bar did not include a name or even a reliable relative location, so the mysterious bar was a personal myth until recently.

Then a friend invited us to a little place up near U Street. Walking in, the layout dimly lit a light in a musty corner of my brain. The familiarity was heightened when I realized there was a bar in the basement, and a quick glance confirmed it: I had found the Scrabble Bar.

Unfortunately, I'm sure Saint-Ex hasn't given away free tabs to high Scrabble scorers for some time, and may have only done it once as far as I know. I haven't been back on a poorly attended weeknight, but I might make a pilgrimage soon.

kites, kites, everywhere kites

Another catch-up post...

One of the first nice days of the spring neatly coincided with an event I'd been looking forward to having nice weather for. The Smithsonian Kite Festival happened the same weekend the cherry blossoms first popped out. There was no excuse not to head to the Mall to take it all in, so that's what we did.

The Kite festival had actual competitive kite builders and kite fliers, but the competition's relatively tiny space was hemmed in by thousands of amateurs who had flocked to the Mall for the chance to show off their own kite-flying skills, or at least felt compelled to buy a cheap plastic kite to add to the critical mass. There were plenty of bargain-bin kites, but there were also plenty of intricately-designed models to draw the eye.

For example, there was a dragon kite with 88 hand-made individual kites making up the tail. There were sport kites that seemed to fly free of their strings. And there were odd-shaped kites, such as the Panda bear that couldn't quite get up off the ground. (He was a sad panda.)

After a while we wandered south to check out the iconic cherry blossoms. What we found, mostly, was a ton of tourists lining the paths seven-deep to get photos and trample the cherry trees. Snapping a few obligatory pics was enough for us.

Back to the Mall, where the fest was wrapping up. Then the remainder of the day was spent enjoying the sunshine.

the stars at night

I'm not sure if they're actually big and bright, here, deep in the heart of Texas, because so far they've been obscured by clouds and outshone by lightning.
I've been in Austin through the weekend (and for the next few days). It's my first time to visit the Texas capital (second, actually, but I had maybe 36 months of life experience the last time I was here, so I didn't catch some of the nuances the city has to offer). Mostly so far I've eaten. Far too much. This seems to be a running theme for my visits, and one I'm not particularly motivated to change. Had one night down in the famous 6th St. nightlife district, although I didn't catch any music that distinguished itself.
Downtown has the scenery down, with park space along the river and the capitol dome dominating the center of the skyline, despite its proximity to much taller buildings. I was slightly surprised, however, that most of the establishments downtown were clearly showing their age; not poorly, but they hadn't been spruced up and given the slick modern facelift most of the areas in D.C. (which, admittedly, are generally much younger) seem to universally have. I'm generally a fan of the grit a few decades of service brings. But I'd heard Austin has been booming, and that led me to expect the artificial gleam new money and population often brings.
I think I'll have to come back for a longer trip to be able to talk about Austin's character with any real knowledge. But I can say they've got plenty of food, plenty of beer, and it's far, far cheaper than where I came from. All that is good.

showing its good side

This is the best time of year in D.C. - one of the only windows where the weather lends itself to appreciation rather than complaining.
The cherry blossoms have come and gone around town - not only ringing the Tidal Basin and framing the memorials, but also in yards and along the streets of the city. The pink and white blooms lasted barely more than a week before the green shoots of leaves took over, but the cherries were only the leading wave of a color assault which neatly coincides with the first days of unabashed and unrepentant sunshine, carrying with it actual warmth (but not yet accompanied by the oppressive force of humidity). As the delicate pink and white fades away, a vibrant second act of bright reds and yellows starts to take over, standing out from the now ever-present green.
As attention was diverted by the cherry blossoms, our yard transformed from a dormant, patchy rug to a plush, tall and very much alive layer of bright organic matter, pushing up (and up, and requiring mowing before drawing neighborhood complaints). The park behind our house has gone from a study in browns and sharp lines to a collage in which the nature of any one element is hidden behind the sheer visual obstacle of so many green shoots and coverings of every plant and tree in the area.

It's time to revel in the beauty of a city that normally is anything but.

nature doesn't like Earth Day

Or at least Earth Day celebrations the day before Earth Day.

Rain, rain came and stayed in D.C. Sunday. Most of the day it was an intermittent light rain, but there were enough downpour moments to make my drive downtown difficult and send people scurrying. The rain meant my initial plans for the afternoon were canceled, so I headed into the heart of the city to run a couple of errands and see if I could catch a bit of the free concerts promised on the Mall to celebrate Earth Day.

I arrived at the Mall just after one of the heavy precipitation events had ended. I was in time to watch crowds of plastic-sheathed people emerge from the neighboring museums and converge back on the grass in front of the stage erected for the day (although apparently after they'd already made the decision to cancel the rest of the show).

With the rain stopped and the ground more than soggy the Mall had an excellent vibe. Instead of the usual weekend hordes of tourists and the extra usual horde for an event, the crowd was smaller (only those people for whom getting wet and then hanging out on a soaked area of turf did not present the slightest obstacle to an enjoying afternoon). More than anything, it felt like a college afternoon - the crowd that remained skewed hippy, with a drum circle breaking out, lots of people going barefoot in the grass and an occasional wafts of fragrant smoke drifting through it all.

Admittedly, this atmosphere of being among a crowd with no real concern about time, weather or hygene (the perfect atmosphere for a lazy rainy Sunday afternoon with otherwise good weather - no wind, and just the right temperature for walking through the grass) was at its strongest later in the day. At first when I arrived, the central mass of loiterers were surrounded by people streaming away from the mall, the more-determined tourists who, having the neatly-planned event broken up by the rain, all seemed to head a block or so north to stand in line for the National Archives.

I detoured around the crowd and wandered for a moment through the National Gallery of Art. Since moving to D.C. nearly a year ago, I've been to the Galley a few times, but always for something specific. I haven't simply taken the time to wander through, and as I aimlessly (or nearly aimlessly - I did generally move in the direction of the one Leonardo da Vinci painting in the Gallery) moved through the rooms, I realized just how big the place is. It's a feeling accenutated by the layout; the main floor of the West Building alone is divided into nearly 100 rooms, all of which are relatively small and give the general feeling - if you stop aimlessly wandering and try to find a specific place or an exit - of being in a very well-decorated maze. It also serves to break up the visiting population - I'm sure there were a ton of people there, but most of the time I was the only one in whatever room I found myself in.

All day I avoided being caught outside in the real rain, instead wandering in the dry aftermath of the heavy falls, or perhaps in a little shower. Without the inconvenience of soaking-wet clothes, I found the weather mostly relaxing. The sky was overcast but the air was pleasant, both of which contributed to the general mood that as I roamed through the now-glistening city there was no responsibility to do anything else.

After I walked out of the Gallery, I saw the stage being dismantled. A few moments around a drum circle was enough for me, and on a whim I headed to the zoo. I had brought running shoes and clothes with me, so I decided the zoo would make a nice environment to discover just how poorly my muscles and lungs were working at the moment. I entered the grounds after the buildings had closed for the day but with two hours to go before the zoo itself closed. I don't know what the normal crowd for a Sunday at that time would be, but if there are normally any crowds watching the animals enclosed out of doors, the rain had chased them away. Once again, I had a place almost all to myself.

I highly recommend the zoo late on a rainy day, as long as it's not raining at the time. Most of the animals I passed were up and about, perhaps enjoying the last light of the day as well as a respite from the day's rain. The flamingos testing out the feeding options in a newly-formed puddle at the edge of their cage were not happy to see me run by, but otherwise everything there added to the very chill effect.

An effect that came to an abrupt halt when I returned home and realized I mountains of dirty dishes and laundry to deal with.

As always, my posting frequency has left much to be desired.

I have a few excuses (certainly more than I've had for much of the past year, when I still wasn't posting much and didn't have any other demands on my time). For one, I've actually been working. Along with my freelance work I've had one of those jobs with a real, daily schedule. The past two months or so I've been working with an online company that creates online, searchable and sortable databases of public records that were generally neither easily accessible nor easy to look through.

At the same time, I'm doing freelance, especially baseball, which means several long days. This month my time has been further whittled by a number of visitors. All of which is good, but makes it even less likely I'll put anything up here, and I wasn't very likely to do that to begin with.

coach K gave me a virus

For most of the last week, I've been sick. A hacking cough has been the main problem, but a fever came along with it for a couple of days. I'm pretty sure I can trace all this back to Mike Krzyzewski.

I covered the opening rounds of the NCAA tournament in Washington, D.C. One of the teams involved was Duke. The Blue Devils had a rough weekend, with a near loss to Belmont in the first game and a second-round loss to West Virginia. One of the stories on the opening day was the sickness of their coach, Krzyzewski, who had just about lost his voice before the opening press conference and reportedly coached the opening game with a 104 degree fever.

I never actually talked to Krzyzewski, but I did talk to most of the Duke players in the locker room, including DeMarcus Nelson, who spent most of the weekend coughing his way through answers to the questions posed to him. About a week after all that, my cough started to show up, and the week-long adventure of dealing with a virus started.

I'm convinced I caught a Duke virus, which doesn't make me any more inclined to root for the Blue Devils in the future. I am wondering, however, if I can somehow make some money off putting it up on eBay.

ski West Virginia!

crowd at Timberline
Originally uploaded by slack13

Twice in three weeks I found myself just outside of Davis, W.V., ostensibly to ski but mostly to enjoy a weekend with a group of friends. The cabin the second time around - a couple weeks ago - was up to higher standards than the first. It had running water all weekend, for starters. And a hot tub, which was quite nice to sit in after a storm blew in - steam rose up and froze as the snow fell down, although the wind howling past marred the idyllic scene a bit.

The skiing itself became better as the day wore on once again. It was an odd day on the mountain - the sun was out when we started in the morning, and I didn't even bother to put on gloves or a hat for my first three runs. Then a storm blew in, the temperature dropped at least 20 degrees and the wind picked up at least 20 miles an hour. Where in the morning patches of bare ground and mud showed between the runs, by early afternoon those same patches had two or three inches of snow. That was the good part; the bad part was the snow was blowing straight in my face, and all I'd brought was a pair of sunglasses that started fogging up and freezing to my eyebrows at the same time. Thankfully, for my last few runs I borrowed some goggles from a friend who ended his day early, giving me a chance to enjoy the fresh snow (and the ice underneath).

The group I'd tagged along to West Virginia with was predominately made up of rock climbers, so we stopped at the Seneca Rocks on the drive home and walked to the summit's observation platform. Less than an hour and a mountain pass or two away from the ski area the snow had completely gone and we were back into spring.

That's all the skiing I'm going to get for some time, unless a very unexpected trip somewhere with more mountains or a different hemisphere happens to carry me away. It was better than nothing, but I'm already looking forward to getting back on a real mountain.

surprise

Saturday was perhaps the first true spring day of the year in D.C. With the sun shining and clear skies, we decided it was a good time to go check out the construction progress at the new baseball stadium.

We expected to take a look through the fence, walk around the perimeter and be on our way. As we came up to the main outfield gates, there was one other man standing there who had the same impulse. As construction workers walked around us, generally ignoring our spectating, one came over and asked if we wanted to see the view from the seats.

Turns out, it was Greg O'Dell, CEO of the D.C. Sports and Entertainment Commission. He was out on a Saturday checking out the park (and, I think, waiting for someone with more clout than us who wanted a personalized tour). Apparently he had a few minutes of downtime, or he was hoping to build some PR karma, and decided to give the random fans a personal, comprehensive tour of the stadium under construction.

The view from the outfield seats turned into the view from the suites, progressing from the simple club level to the box suites to the super-exclusive club down behind home plate, complete with a lounge with one plexiglassed wall overlooking the players' batting cage underneath the seats and, in another area, the press conference room. Then down further, to an area without a field view. The locker room, the training area.

The stadium seems generally ready for Opening Day, although there was still plenty of construction debris to clean away. I imagine there will be slight odds and ends that don't quite get finished up by the first game, but the important stuff - the playing surface, the seats, the scoreboard - certainly look good.

I should be seeing quite a bit more of the stadium this year as a fan and as working press. The unexpected preview wasn't a bad way to spend Saturday afternoon.

spring, springing

Last week, for the first time this year, I woke up and heard birdsong. My brain translated the song into the knowledge it would be a warm day, which it was. I couldn't quite bring myself to walk outside without a coat after four months or so of constant coat use, but I didn't need it.

The days since haven't been quite as nice (although I had a nice day of another sort this weekend, when I again went to West Virginia for a ski weekend and watched as three inches of snow fell around me). The trees are starting to bloom, however, so the one nice D.C. season - spring - is about to take hold.

Zebra Crossing

Zebra Crossing
Originally uploaded by Happysmurfday

I want to stop for the people waiting at the crosswalks. Really, I do. But D.C. makes this simple act so hard.

One of the enduring mysteries to me as an American abroad in New Zealand was the actions of traffic. Drivers actually seemed to regard the road regulations as laws rather than suggestions. Merging was smooth, cars simply flowed around traffic circles, even two cars meeting on a one-lane mountain road generally flowed a quick, polite protocol, with one or the other backing up to a wide spot in the road so both could proceed.

But by far the most amazing act of all was the simplicity with which I, as a person on foot, could cross a street. If there was no dedicated pedestrian light, a crosswalk was in place at an intuitive place.

These were no simple lanes drawn across the tarmac to delineate a suggested path from one side to the other. These were full-blown crossings, with broad zebra stripes across the road and bright orange orbs atop black-and-white poles to draw drivers' attention to the fact of the crossing's existence.

I have no idea what the penalty might have been for ignoring all these decorative signals. It never entered anyone's discussion. Unlike many other possible low-level transgressions, the casual cost-benefit analysis of risk/reward for continuing full speed through a crosswalk simple did not seem to enter anyone's mind. If there was someone about to walk, cars stopped. The equation seemed inviolable.

Quite the contrast to the situation for those attempting to cross a D.C. road. Getting to the other side is in theory and in law, just as easy as it is for those in New Zealand. In reality, however, it's not. It's not just that the crosswalks are ignored by drivers, although they are. It's that even if you, as a driver, feel generous to your fellow man unencumbered by a metal conveyance and inclined to stop for those about to cross, the very design of the streets and signs hinders your ability to do so.

In DC, if they really want you to pay attention to a crosswalk, you get this in the middle of the street. Of course, these are almost always placed in the center of a four-lane road. Therefore, if there is any traffic on the road with you and you happen to be in the inside lane, you can't possibly see if there is a pedestrian waiting to utilize the crossing. If you're driving in the outside lane, you don't get the benefit of the mid-street sign and often can't see the poorly-marked crosswalk until it's too late to stop.

Not that I really believe DC drivers would be any better at stopping for pedestrians if they had New Zealand-style bright, attention-grabbing orange signs warning them. Somehow, the down-under traffic courtesy will remain a mystery.

ski vacation

Went skiing in Davis, West Virginia this past weekend, my first East-coast skiing experience. Not so bad, although what I'm told is the largest ski area anywhere close to DC is about 2/3 the size of the smallish hill I grew up skiing on.

The weather certainly wasn't great, with fog obscuring the mountain, although it was better than I expected. The night before, it had been 45 and raining. When we actually went up Saturday, it was below freezing and there were a few flakes coming down. The runs were generally wide and smooth, without moguls, although a few had a decent steepness. Early on, they were also generally complete sheets of ice after the previous day's rains. The conditions got a bit better as the day went on for whatever reason - perhaps the ice was broken up by a day's worth of skiiers.

I'm headed back in a couple weeks for another weekend. I'll see what the conditions are like then.

ice

There are many reasons I like living in the District instead of the Maryland or Virginia suburbs. This is just one more.

From the story:

Corinne Geller of the Virginia State Police said Tuesday night that there were sheets of ice on highway ramps, and they'd have to wait until salt trucks de-ice them before vehicles could pass. They said allowing the vehicles to travel on the ramps would endanger the lives of motorists.

That meant that many Virginia drivers were stuck along the roadway for about nine hours.

News4 reported that many drivers were stuck in the Springfield Mixing Bowl from about 3 p.m. on Tuesday until about midnight.
(emphasis mine)

I heard on the radio one Virginia school bus with students was stuck in traffic until about 11:30 p.m.

I've had some frustrating traffic experiences out here. It took nearly two and a half hours to drive the 35 miles to BWI airport one afternoon, about twice as long as I'd expected. I thought that was bad enough. I can't imagine being parked on an interstate for nine hours, with my blood sugar crashing because of a missed dinner and knowing I'd have to return the other direction in seven hours or so to make work the next day.

(I drove into town for our pub quiz last night. It took me about 15 minutes to get home. And yes, my alcohol consumption was light enough for me to safely drive.)

National Building Museum

building_mus_tm
Originally uploaded by easement

The National Building Museum doesn't get the publicity of the bigger museums in D.C. But if you're looking for something a little different, and ready to get out of the crowds which can pack the Smithsonian strip on the Mall, the Building Museum is worth a visit.

The museum is just a few blocks off the Mall, somewhat hidden behind the Verizon center. For a building that takes up an entire block, it can be deceptively hard to find. Once you have and wander inside (like most other museums in D.C. it does not charge admission) you'll see the bulk of the space is taken up by the open Great Hall. Ringing the Great Hall are three stories of balconies, behind which the rooms (and exhibition spaces) form the perimeter of the building.

The one drawback to the Building Museum tends to be the low ratio of exhibits to building size. There is a permanent exhibit on the history of Washington, D.C. the city - complete with models of the Mall area as it existed at the turn of the century and how planners at that time wanted it to look (which is, with a few exceptions, generally as it appears today). There models and drawings showing the planning process behind many of the big, postcard-star memorials downtown.

The temporary exhibits seem to turn over fairly quickly, and have a wide range of subjects. The first time I went, there was an exhibition on efforts to recreate Shakespeare's Globe theater. The last time, there was a collection of photographs documenting various residence styles across Africa. The drawback tends to be, once again, the surprisingly small size of the exhibition space after to step off the Great Hall. Also, it can be surprisingly hard to find exhibits, since most of the rooms off the balconies are not open to the public, and the exhibits seem to be randomly dispersed with poor signage.

The museum shop, however, makes up for some of the shortcomings. Not only does it have the old maps and prints I'm a sucker for, it crams in more than you would guess at first glance. Obviously the shelves of books on architecture and building design, but also an area of whimsically designed kitchen utensils and implements, as well as toys and other surprises.

Despite the odd use of space, I'm a fan. Especially since I've never once had to fight through crowds, as I have every time I've wandered into the Natural History Museum.

Howard

I feel I need to update a previous post on Howard University basketball.

My first game at Howard, there weren't any ticket takers at the door. There weren't any tickets. Anyone could walk right in, no questions asked. Apparently this was simply for a low-interest game and a rare home game early in the season (Howard had a total of two non-conference home games). Since then, there have definitely been ticket takers. I've had more trouble getting into Howard games than anything else, because no one is ever quite sure what to do with me as a media member.

This isn't really a knock on Howard or its staff. Mostly, I enjoy going to the games at Howard. But as a low-budget, non-winning team in D.C., they don't get much media coverage. Most of the time, I'm it, as the AP representative. And since they don't often have to deal with media and media passes, the people working the door usually have no idea how to deal with me. I actually had more trouble getting into a Howard game without a pass than I did getting into a Capitals game when the AP forget to let the Capitals know I was coming.

I was impressed by the fan support at Howard last night. Even though the Bison had lost 11 of 12, the stands were mostly full (spurred on, I'm sure, by the fact the game was televised on ESPNU). And, as usual at a historically-black school, the band was awesome.

gifts

We've collected our gifts from the Christmas season, as well as probably gotten the last of our wedding presents. Today, however, another package showed up at our door.

One of my favorite presents we received for the wedding was a monthly delivery of bread from Great Harvest Bread Co.. There are bakeries across the country, all of which use wheat from my home region in Montana. Each month since we returned from the wedding, a box containing one loaf of bread has appeared at our door. These have been, without exception, excellent. Whole grain, honey wheat, pumpkin - all moist and flavorful.

Take this as an official recommendation.

wild stuff

On the road trip, we generally dealt with near- or below-freezing temperatures. In fact, in Illinois I managed to get in my first snow sledding for many, many years.

Back in D.C., the last few days have required a bit of a mental adjustment. I've thrown on a jacket before leaving the house, only to find myself far too warm. It's been near 70 degrees here, which has given the air an odd feel, like the city can't quite decide which season it's in.

I decided to take advantage of the balminess yesterday and headed off for a run through the park, my first in far too long - the last time I went running, there were still leaves on the trees.

This summer, one of my favorite features of our location was the park. The forested trails were cut off from the city, a quick escape into a different kind of world. With the leaves gone, so was the illusion. Houses jutted out just a few yards away, no longer hidden away. The belt of parkland was revealed to be much narrower than my mind had assumed those months ago when I repeatedly found myself lost as I was still trying to figure out the D.C. streets.

merry christmas, happy new year, all that stuff

I'm actually getting far worse rather than getting better about posting, let along posting anything meaningful, but that's probably all right because the few friends and relatives who checked in here probably have given up a while back.

However, I'd like to do a better job, just for myself. So as always, I have the best of intentions to do this more often now that there's an "8" at the end of the year.

Starting with a short post on one reason I haven't had anything up here for about three weeks - I've been out of town for two of them. K and I went on a midwest road trip, of the type you just can't do in any other country (which is one good reason to travel to those other countries, after you've done a few massive road trips in this one). We rolled up nearly 3,000 miles on the odometer driving from D.C. to Missouri and back, with stops in Indianapolis on the way out and stops in St. Louis, Chicago and Cleveland on the way back. Each stop gave us friends to catch up with (which often meant late nights, and usually, a long drive starting early the next day) or family to see, or both. All were good, although most stops lasted a single evening and left us wishing we had more time.