Capital Thoughts 4: Subway Edition

For those not in the know, Washington DC has a fantastic subway system. It’s so top notch for a variety of reasons: A) It’s illegal to eat, drink or smoke (and this law is strictly enforced), which keeps the cars *very* clean, and B) The trains run at regular intervals, unlike the T. The trains also run late when they should, until 3 on Friday and Saturday nights.

Still, taking the Metro in and out of town everyday can be boring at times: There’s not a lot of scenery, and a boring book can cause a wasted 20 minutes. So ocassionally, I take a look around at fellow passengers.

Firstly, there is a mathematical formula for when it’s OK to take the seat next to me. That formula is: never. And it is especially never if there are other open seats in the train. And it is unequivally never if there is an open *row* of seats elsewhere in the train. This has happened to me more than a few times: I’ll be in a mostly-empty train, and some random person will hop on and take the seat right next to me, even though there are seven empty rows of seats. And it’s not just subways! I’ve parked my car in the middle of an open lot with *at least* 15 spaces on either side in one direction, and three empty rows in the other, and some person will have still come park their car way too close to my driver-side door, and there are still 15 open spots, three open rows, etc. Why?? Cars don’t benefit from strength of numbers. They don’t keep each other warm, they don’t befriend each other. All you, sir or madam who likes to park close to other cars, have done is earn yourself a nice passenger-side dent. Enjoy. But I digress…
Another quirky habit: Last week, I boarded at Dupont Circle to head out to Grosvenor. That’s about a 15-20 minute ride. Two minutes in, I’m minding my own business, ocassionally checking out the other passengers for interesting quirks (yes, among other things…) when I notice a not-unattractive Asian woman sitting a few rows ahead of me, and facing the opposite direction. She’s combing her hair, using a small vanity mirror to check it out.

I head back to my book for a page or so, until the train arrives at the next station (National Zoo/Adams Morgan). Quite a few passengers board/deboard the train, so I’m bumped in the elbow, and I look up and around again. Hmm… the woman is combing her hair still. You know, I’m not really sure how long it takes, but that’s a long time. And her hair is pretty straight….

I go back to the book for another stop… and when I look up again, she’s *still* combing her hair. In fact, she’s re-combing portions of it I saw her comb before. The passenger sitting behind her (from my POV) looks as confused as I probably do: Has she stopped? Why did she start again? And so on. Realize that by now, I’m halfway to Grosvenor, I’ve been on the train 10 minutes, and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t stopped yet.

By now, of course, I can’t concentrate on my book, so I close it, just looking at Hair-Comb Girl, Confused-Woman-Behind-Hair-Comb-Girl, and a few other passengers. Also of note is Clearly-Upset-Stomach-Guy, who’s turning various shades of red intermittently whie grinding his teeth and holding his abdomen.

To make a long and crazy story short, I get to Grosvenor and the woman is *still* combing her hair. About half the train has realized this, but Comb-Girl is too entranced with herself (she also hasn’t put down the little vanity mirror) to notice other passengers awed by this performance.By the time I alight from the train, 20 minutes have passed and she’s recombed her hair about six or seven times. Note that she was on the train before me, and was on the train after me, so it’s entirely possible that this could have been going on for over 30, even 40 minutes.

This could be the OCD award winner for best performance, 2006.

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Overheard in DC…

Passing by the Treasury Building.

Mother: “Look kids (points to plaque), it says on this spot, Canada and the US became friends!”

Grandmother: “You know, just once, I’d like to pass by one of these damn buildings and see a sign that says ‘In 1870, absolutely nothing happened here.’ “

Snapshot

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

bushbabyAP130706_479x600.jpg

Courtesy of the AP.

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Special Audio Edition

Two pieces of audio today that may make you cry, but for entirely different reasons. The first is a fantastically beautiful cover of The Talking Heads’ This Must Be the Place (Naive Melody) by the Arcade Fire from CBC radio up North. Let me be the latest to join the loooong list of Arcade Fire fans. (Time Magazine featured the band on it’s Canadian edition cover back in April 2005. They’ve been at the forefront of the Canadian rock/indie scene since.) Their first company release, Funeral, is an excellent example of good things brewing for the future of rock.

The other audio is a terrfying piece of Senate debate from Ted Stevens, Republican from Alaska and chair of Senate Commerce Committee. Ol’ Ted (emphasis on Ol’) moves into a solid first place on the “I don’t know shit ’bout technology” leader board with his thoughts on net neutrality, replacing Orrin “Let’s literally blow up the computers of internet pirates remotely” Hatch of Utah.

Stevens was poked fun at on The Daily Show, but the sad part is, very few people have the ability to get to this guy to talk common sense into him. He’s also president pro tempore of the Senate (which means, for once, I’m almost praying Bush, Cheney and Hastert don’t meet their untimely demise simultaneously.) Stevens is the longest serving Republican in the Senate… and he’s from fucking Alaska. Since most people on the Hill refuse (albeit politely) to communicate with members of the public unless they think they can get a vote out of it, it’s going to take an able Alaskan to get through to this guy. Good luck finding that. Not surprisingly, though, lobbyists and members of the media get a FastPass to Congressional members. Hmmm… who do politicans work for again?

Audio courtesy of the CBC and Public Knowledge.org (via ThrowAwayyourTv.com)

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Capital Thoughts 3

The fifth floor of 1150 17th St NW here in DC is probably the scariest place ever. It’s the home to both the Weekly Standard and PNAC, the Project for a New American Century. Both are neoconservative oriented. PNAC is the group mentioned in Fahrenheit 9/11, and includes Donald Rumsfeld, Dick Cheney, Jeb Bush (the brother to the President and the Governor of Florida), I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby, Paul Wolfowitz among others…. people you tend to hear about every thirty minutes or so. But both PNAC and Weekly Standard are run by one man (with help, I assume): William Kristol.

I passed by Kristol as he was taking his coffee at a local Caribou Coffee store. It took every ounce of energy not to go ask him what the fuck he’s doing. (By the way, I’ve heard Kristol’s name before, but he was recently featured on an episode of The Colbert Report. I didn’t know before sitting down to write this he was the chairman of PNAC. Had I known this, I probably *would* have gone and asked him what he’s doing.)
But then it got me thinking: How many people, more crazy than I, ask Kristol or anyone else they don’t agree with what they’ve got in their heads? I mean, DC’s a pretty crazy place, politcally-speaking: the residents of the district are overwhelmingly Democratic. But I’d have to guess there are more conservative organizations in town, especially when the Republicans control both the House and Senate, as well as the Presidency as they do now. Some members of these organizations, like Kristol, are minor celebrities in the world of politics either for their outspoken views, access to media, or access to power.
And you have to wonder, what does it take for a crazy person to just walk up to someone and give them the bird. Of course, this entire argument can be reversed: I’m sure there are just as many crazy conservatives out there ready to egg Nancy Pelosi’s or John Kerry’s (or Paul Krugman of the NYTimes) black sedans.
Let me take this one step further: Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, and Bill O’Reilly all work out of New York City. All are equally right-wing (and, in my opinion, completely batshit crazy insane). Yet New York City is also now a Democratic stronghold. How do these people operate on a daily basis? How are these people not shot in the streets? (Note that I’m not suggesting people go out and shoot media personalities. I’m just curious: Why hasn’t it happened yet? Statisically speaking, that’s bizarre, given Reagan was shot at, Carter was almost shot at, and Ford was almost shot/actually shot at *twice*). There’s got to be some fanatical nutjob out there about to go apeshit, right? Or am I just thinking Hollywood again?

Moving on… Here’s a ranking of homeless people from least to most offensive.

  • People who sit in the side of the sidewalk with a cup in hand, sleeping.
  • People who sit in the side of the sidewalk with a cup in hand, not sleeping or talking.
  • People who sit anywhere, but they have a funny sign and aren’t talking. Funny signs include “I’m just asking for money for drugs/booze/sex”
  • People who sit in the middle of the sidewalk with a cup in hand, not sleeping or talking.
  • People who sit anywhere in the sidewalk with a cup in hand, singing.
  • People who sit anywhere with a hat on the ground.
  • People with signs that say “Help a homeless vet from the Korean War” when it is clear they are not of acceptable age to have been involved in the Korean War.
  • People who stand and move towards you asking for money.
  • People who look like they’re giving out free coffee coupons for Caribou (where William Krisol gets his coffee!), but instead ask you for money.
  • People who walk up to you while you’re sitting at an outdoor cafe eating your burrito because it’s a nice day out and ask you for money.
  • People who walk up to you while you’re sitting *inside* eating your burrito because it’s a crappy day out.
  • People who follow you down the street asking for money, making you wonder if your umbrella is enough of a weapon to momentarily disable your pursuer while you flee for the nearest Metro station.
  • People you invariably have to walk past twice, once before lunch, and once after, and when they recognize you with bag of foodstuffs in hand, ask you if you have any spare change now that you’ve bought some McDonalds. When you walk past without giving, they say “Thanks anyway, McFatty.” And you feel bad, because that’s actually a somewhat good joke, and when you use it later on someone else, you’ll feel like you stole it from the homeless person, when you could have given him the thirty-seven cents from your Double Cheeseburger Value Meal.

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Words are hard.

Text is from a real AP article. I’m sure there’s no connection between the text and the ad image. (Click for more readable version)
bushwords.JPG

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Capital Thoughts 2

People get all antsy here when there’s 10 inches of rain. Let me try something I learned yesterday: Bah! *dismissive hand wave*. Hm, I’m not sure that works in text. Of course, I’m well accustomed to lots of inclement weather; Boston snows and Florida hurricanes line up nicely with the academic calendar.

A few Metro stations are or were under water earlier this week, especially on Monday morning, when the deluge of Sunday dropped 7 inches in as little as 5 hours. Federal Triangle Metro, a stop on the Blue-Orange line that serves the Justice Department, EPA, IRS, and the Dept. of Commerce will experience delays for the next week or so. Most of those organizations, along with other federal agencies, allowed employees to take unscheduled leave if they couldn’t get to work. Traffic, even in the rain, was heavy the last few days as people decided to drive to work.
Here’s an idea: Walk, you weak-legged pansies. It’s 1000 feet from Metro Center (the stop before) to Federal Triangle. That’s just a fifth of a mile. But I wonder how many people would rather have a ten-minute delay than walk for five minutes? The nation’s crippling problem with obesity continues…
And here’s something else: You never see congressional delegates on the Metro, do you? No politician here prides themselves on taking the Blue Line into work. And if that’s not an easy way to look like a populist and an gas-saving eco-aware person, I don’t know what is. It sure beats the 535 black town cars that must invariably come in and out of the Capitol grounds every day. I wouldn’t know though; I haven’t made it to the building while Congress has been in session. You know, from 9:30 to 11 on alternating Wednesdays?

While in session, in an oft-reported move yesterday, the flag burning amendment failed by a single vote: of course, it would still need to be ratified by the state legislatures of at least 38 states. Here’s a tounge-planted-firmly-in-cheeck thought: Why ban burning the flag? Millions of people in other countries burn our flag every day. Why not just cut out the middle man and do it ourselves? We’re outsourcing flag-burning as it is. Of course, even if we ban burning the flag, foriegners will still burn it for us. So the dream stays alive. On a whim, I looked for a list of countries that ban flag burning. The Senate report lists: Germany (circa 1933-1945), Cuba, China, Iran, and Iraq. Hmm….

Quite a few people have spoken out against the flag burning ban: Unconfirmed Sources has the best headline. Mixed Signals also points out how old-school this ban seems. USA Today did a poll (surprise!) that found 54% opposed to the ban. It also asked a confusing question about how upset people would be if the amendment did or did not pass, then goofed in reporting the data. And finally, even Colin Powell “argues that a constitutional ban on flag burning is a sign of weakness and fear”. And if you can’t trust Colin Powell, who can you trust?

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Capital Thoughts 1

I saw a mobile shredder truck on the way to the White House today. I’m not going to make judgements about this. I will say it was a pretty big truck.

The 4th and 5th fingers on my left hand have gone kind of numb somehow (probably a pinch of the ulnar nerve) It’s the most bizzare feeling ever to type W, S, and A. If I were to play a FPS, my guy could only strafe right.

I ordered a Turtle Mocha from Caribou Coffee today. In general, Caribou is better than Starbucks. However, I do not like the idea of peanuts in my coffee. Invariably, the peanuts (part of the “turtle” treats) have all the chocolate melted off of them and sink to the bottom, so the last few sips of coffee have chunks of peanuts in them. I’m cool with nutty-tasting coffee. But nuts in my coffee? No fucking way. I have to go drink a Coke to wash out the nut fragments in my teeth. I should not be chasing an espresso with more caffeine. (Yes, I could drink water, but that’s not tasty. Yes, I could also drink flavored water, but that’s still a scary thought.)

I had to answer some questions about my resume today: Apparently, the background check agency called the wrong CharityWorks, reaching the one in NoVA, and not the one in Florida. Here are some helpful clues that should have prevented this.

1) I’ve never lived, except for right now, within 750 miles of NoVA.

2) The listing on my resume has, in giant letters, CLEARWATER FL.

But, to be fair, there are TWO CharityWorks, and the one they called is bigger and has a higher PageRank. So I got hasseled because of a Google Algorithm, coupled with a lack of smart searching. Damn.

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