The Great Blizzard of 2010

A day like Saturday is so rare. The entire city at peace, under a blanket of white snow. Because of that, I spent as much of my day outside as I could, despite the cold. The first time, in the morning, the snow was still falling -- driving actually, right into our eyes -- we walked as far as we could before it got painful, over past Sherman Avenue, then up Sherman and westward on Kenyon.









Walking over to 14th, the only place open seemed to be Starbucks, and through the window I spotted an astonishing collection of hipsters, gazing into their glowing laptops, gathered together as if for comfort in the raging snowstorm.

Feeling nearly frozen by this time, I went home and did some shoveling, which depleted any energy I had left. By 4pm, the snow was tapering off, and it was time for more shoveling, including a path through the deep snow of my back yard so the alley cats could get to their food dish. And then I set out on another walk, down the 14th Street hill.

By this time, the storm had largely lifted, and so had the city's mood. The major artery of 14th street had no traffic, and was filled with people walking, partly because they could, and partly because they had to. The snow was packed hard, and not for the first time I found myself wishing I owned some skis. An investment that might pay off one day every five years it, but so worth it to zip down 14th Street!




A man was walking down 14th Street on the other side, and in a booming West Indian voice he was shouting, "God has blessed us with this snow!" As he went on, I thought about the problem with attributing such widespread events to divine provenance -- we seemed blessed by the beauty of the day, but by the same account were the people without power and heat damned? He kept going on and got in a few "hallelujahs," and a couple of guys shoveling out a car that I was walking past muttered "hallelujah" in response each time he yelled it.



U Street, thankfully, was devoid of people playing cops-and-snowballs -- just people walking around enjoying the day. Although most places were shut, I was pleasantly surprised to find Bar Pilar open, and briefly contemplated stopping for a beverage until I saw that it was completely packed.



I kept walking, and entranced by the beauty of Rhode Island Avenue, overhung with trees white with snow and ice, I turned towards Logan Circle.





From there, I continued down 13th Street, and as one might expect, there were far fewer people walking around closer to the Central Business District.







Franklin Square Park reminded me of something out of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, when the kids first discover Narnia as a frozen winter wonderland.



By this time, the sun was setting, and I turned back up 14th.   It was getting considerably colder and I was sore all over from walking and shoveling, and I wasn't relishing the long walk back up the hill to Columbia Heights.   Happily, I found Polly's open, with seats at the bar aplenty. I popped in, but sadly the kitchen wasn't open so I only stayed for one beer.   But the beer, the fireplace, and a random cell phone call from an old friend were enough to give me the energy to continue on my journey, back up the hill.

It had been a good day.

To see these photos and the rest of my photos from the blizzard as a slide show, click here.

Steppin' Out into the snow

A little before noon this morning, the first flakes of what promised to be a huge snowstorm began falling. It was 37 degrees outside, and the flakes were so small, and melting instantly on the ground, it would have seemed inconsequential were it not for forecasts of up to two feet.

I felt pretty prepared, even though I'd run out of ice melt in the last minor snow. There was no way I was going to joined the frightened masses lining up at the Giant, buying toilet paper and milk, and whatever else it is that panic-buying hordes buy. I'd just have to rely on shovel alone, and ice be damned.

Knowing that something huge was approaching us, a general air of anxiety seemed to pervade the city: the lines at Giant, the many people off work, the heavier than normal traffic, the worse than usual driving.

"Snowpocalypse," and its close relatives, "snOMG," and "snowmageddon," momentarily clever terms way back in December 2009, had become some of the fastest cliches in history, relegated to that status by a million echoing blogs and the media that follow them. All that was left to describe what was coming was the traditional and somewhat inadequate "big-ass snowstorm."

Around 2, I headed out to drop off some dry cleaning and have lunch. I walked passed Chipotle on 14th. More crowded than ever as people stocked up their stomachs as well as their cupboard's. Julia's Empanadas was empty though, as usual -- hard to understand since the empanadas are pretty good. The snow was still kind of inconsequential as I walked in.

By the time I left Julia's though, maybe a half hour later, things had changed. The flakes were bigger, and I noticed that in the short time I'd been inside, it had gotten considerably colder -- in fact, almost slipping on the sidewalk a couple of times I realized that the stuff was starting to stick. It became clear how this was going to get serious.

On the way home I walked into the CVS on 14th. Joe Jackson's "Steppin' Out" was playing:

We...
So tired of all the darkness in our lives
With no more angry words to say can come alive
Get into a car and drive
To the other side

Amazingly the store was almost totally empty. Even more amazingly, they had a few bags of icemelt left in a forlorn pile. I grabbed a couple and headed to the register. "Need a bag?" the cashier asked, as the hypnotic bass line from Joe Jackson's song played in the background.

"Yeah," I said, but thought to myself, "that's gonna need two bags." Sure enough he plopped the two bags of icemelt into a single CVS bag, and they immediately fell through the bag from the weight. He and his coworker had a chuckle about this, and he put them back into individual bags instead.

My last bit of anxiety assuaged by the unexpected icemelt find, I stepped back out into the thickening snowfall. Joe Jackson was still playing as I walked out of the CVS:

We...
Are young but getting old before our time
We'll leave the T.V. and the radio behind
Don't you wonder what we'll find
Steppin out tonight

Untold Stories of 2009, Part 1

Before this year gets too far along, I need to document a few things that I missed writing about during 2009.

Part I: How to Lose Weight Without Trying

I usually don't think too much about my weight. In fact, a couple of years ago my scale broke, and then I really stopped thinking about it. But then, last year, my girlfriend got a Wii Fit, and it weighed me as a part of registering my character. It told me I'd lost 15 pounds.

15 pounds seemed pretty extreme, especially since I hadn't actually been trying to lose weight. Plus I'm on the slim side naturally so I don't really have a wealth of extra pounds to shed. I didn't entirely believe the Wii but I confirmed its reading elsewhere. Searching the web "unexplained weight loss" was a bad idea, and fed my natural hypochondria.

And then after a trip to Asia in the fall, I went to my dentist for my regular checkup, and he said to me, "you lost weight. If you lose any more you'll look gaunt." By that time I was convinced I had come down with some rare, fatal condition.

I went to the doctor in November and he told me there was nothing wrong with me. Not wanting to look "gaunt," I increased my diet (the arrival of the new Chipotle in Columbia Heights certainly helped). And as of this month, I am back to slightly below normal, which is right where I want to be. So I'm backing off the tortillas.

I still don't know what that was all about. I suspect it was two things, mostly the fact that I rode my bike to work every day last year. Now it's too cold to ride so I'm taking the bus. The second was on two successive trips, I ate something bad. No faster way to lose weight than food poisoning!

Watching BHO with the GOP

I wasn't going to watch the State of the Union address -- these things from either party are usually boringly predictable, with perhaps the one unfortunate exception of the infamous "Axis of Evil" speech in 2002. But then I got an offer that was too tempting to resist from one of my friends. "Come watch BHO with the GOP!" It was State of the Union party for conservatives at a Georgetown bar. The idea of going deep into this alien culture was certainly appealing from a sociological perspective, and carried far more potential entertainment value than the official "watch parties" that Obama support groups set up, which sounded about as exciting as an Apple product launch.

I felt out of place even before getting in. The doorman outside said to me, "what event are you here for?" There was only one event. "I'm here for the Obama thing," I said. That didn't seem effective, and he gave me a dismissive look. I tried again, feeling a bit like Tareq Salahi scamming his way into the White House. "I'm here for the State of the Union Address." Those were the right words, and he waved me in.

Initially as I waded into the bar full of conservatives, I thought I could feel eyes drilling into me from all directions. But then I realized that they couldn't tell my political affiliation from looking at me. True I wasn't in a suit, and I suspected my black jeans and hand-woven scarf were particularly out of place, but maybe they just thought I was an edgy Republican. It was weird to be hanging out a bar in a crowd full of suits. And Republican women, they seemed to favor pearl necklaces, high heels, and stockings. Intriguing!

15 minutes before the speech, a guy behind the bar was on a microphone, calling out the rules for a drinking game. Sarah Palin briefly appeared on the screen (tuned to Fox News, of course), and the room cheered. Then the speech began, and I was surprised to hear shushing from around the room. The din eventually rose back up to almost normal bar levels, but for the most part, except for a guy who appeared to be the sole dim bulb in the room who kept yelling "***hole" and "liar," people were mostly respectful and there was even some applause at times. This was a classy crowd, despite their inexplicable politics.

The fun was enhanced because there was an open bar and we were well positioned to access the free drinks as well as to chat with our fellow speech watchers, few who realized that they were in the presence of a registered Independent and a registered Democrat.

After the speech ended, everyone turned to their conversations and their drinks -- it appeared to be rapidly turning into a conservative hookup fest, their hormones perhaps stimulated by seeing an hour of the man they love to hate -- and the GOP's rebuttal speech was completely ignored. Walking back from Georgetown we spotted a girl who I'd seen at the bar making out in a doorway with a guy from the party, and another couple who appeared to be going home together. Young Republican love, blossoming in the afterglow from Obama's rousing oratory.

Rosa Mexicano and Up in the Air

This weekend we popped down to Gallery Place to see "Up in the Air," with a dinner at Rosa Mexicano beforehand. I've been to Rosa Mexicano before, a small chain that originated in New York, and the food was delicious. What kept me from coming more often was the crowds, the noise, and the small distance between tables. Of course, none of these things are unique to Rosa, and it's often why I usually only go out on weeknights these days.

Still, a reservation seemed to solve all these problems at once. We were seated within minutes of arriving; we had a nice table by the window; and the room we were in was a quieter part of the restaurant. The only remaining annoyance was the initial aggressive upselling effort by the waiter. Since that happened last time too, it must be standard procedure. He backed off after a couple of failed efforts (on the guacamole and water.)

I had the Alambre a la Mexicana, which the menu describes as Grilled cubes of beef tenderloin, chorizo sausage, onions, tomatoes and serrano peppers over house rice with tomatillo and tomato-chipotle sauces. Every bit of this was absolutely delicious, and I almost cleaned my plate despite the large portions. The waiter warned me about the serrano peppers, and so my first bite was very careful. It was hot, but not that hot, so I forgot about the warning. I must've gotten some seeds with another bite of food, because a few minutes later not just my mouth but my whole head was on fire, and my heart rate picked up. My mouth kept burning while my head changed from hot to cool, and the flavor of my next bites of food seemed enhanced while a calm came over me. It was awesome.

"Up in the Air" is the best movie I've seen in a long time -- not only does George Clooney do a great job in the lead role as Ryan Bingham, a corporate downsizer and motivational speaker who eagerly counts his frequent flier miles as they clock up to an unheard-of level, but the other characters are great too, especially the corporate sidekick he is saddled with, played by Anna Kendrick, who does a perfect job as an ambitious know-it-all 23 year old who hasn't yet figured out that life usually doesn't go according to plan. Ryan Bingham's existence in the no-mans land of planes, airports, hotels, reminds me of the way my own life has been in the years when I've racked up frequent flyer gold status, although unlike him I never relished it, and always looked forward to coming home. Washington Post has a good review here.

Spook Country

I just finished reading Spook Country, by William Gibson.   Although Gibson is usually cast as sci-fi, this book is set in the present -- or actually past, 2006.   Gibson is one of my favorite authors, despite the fact that his plots and the characters are sometimes weak, and what I like about him is his ability to create fascinating artificial worlds.  Perhaps that makes sense for an author credited with coining the term "cyberspace."  The world of Spook Country is one of hipsters blending high tech and art ("locative technology," which was something new in 2006 but which you can now use on an Iphone), ex-CIA and KGB agents, murky, barely-defined threats -- in other words, exactly the world we live in.   Wikipedia says it "captured the zeitgeist of post-9/11 American society," and despite the sometimes weak plotline, that by itself made it worth the read.

Saturday night in Columbia Heights

Thanks to a blog tip, on Saturday we checked out the "Columbia Heights Salon Series," a series of mini art exhibits held in private homes a bit north of Park Road NW.   I didn't really know what to expect, and to my semi-skeptical girlfriend I justified it as "it'll be interesting to get to see the inside of some cool houses."

It turned out to be much more than that.  For starters, there was a wine tasting at each house, so we got a little tipiser with each stop.   Some of the art was cool too, my favorites being in the house titled "Casa de Canvas," the first place we stopped on Holmead.   The last house, on Otis Place, "Installation Station," was the funnest -- by the time we got there it had turned into a full-fledged party with a DJ spinning tunes and stuff you could write on the walls.   And yes it was fun to see the inside of houses in our neighborhood, and walking from house to house felt like trick-or-treating on Halloween.

Afterwards we popped by Commonwealth, just at the end of the crowd surge and just in time to slide into a ready table without a wait.   The burger was good as usual; my girlfriend got something that turned out to be different from what she was expecting, and didn't eat much of it.  The waiter noted that and comped us without any discussion at all, proving once again that Commonwealth is a class act.

Haiti

I am subscribed to a service that sends me global earthquake alerts.  Anything over 5.5, I get a text message.   I get a lot of them, and most of them don't mean anything, and from what's in the message I can kind of guess what the impact is going to be.   At 5:17 pm on Tuesday, I was sitting in my cubicle, trying to decide when to leave work and whether or not I should go to the gym, when I got a message -- 6.5 earthquake in Haiti.   That couldn't be good, I thought, although I also felt some surprise that Haiti was even vulnerable to earthquakes.

A moment later a revised SMS came in.  7.3 magnitude.    Well, maybe it's off the coast, I hoped.  I went to the US Geological Survey website (www.usgs.gov).   The map showed a big red square, right in the middle of Port au Prince.  Really, really bad.   And unfortunately the news in the coming hours confirmed my worst fears and then some.

Not much else to say about the awfulness of it all.  The important thing is, how to help, and that's to give money to an organization one trusts.  Charity Watch has a listing of top-rated organizations (http://www.charitywatch.org/hottopics/Haiti.html).  And the Red Cross has what's got to be the easiest donation scheme of all -- text "Haiti" to 90999 on a cell to send a $10 donation to support Red Cross.