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.