Just Another Day in DC

Perennial Candidates or Hope Springs Eternal

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 26 Feb 2024 13:00:00 +0000

Starting today, I'll be posting via Substack instead of Blogger. I'll leave this and past posts up but for new content, you'll need to subscribe here. New posts should come straight to your email.

When I was a kid growing up in Atlanta, the name Wyman C. Lowe seemed to be on the ballot in every election. He first ran for Congress in 1946 and kept putting his name on the ballot for various federal and state offices in practically every election cycle well until the mid 1980s. And he lost -- every single time. It's hard to fathom what makes one so persistently hopeful in the face of constant rejection -- although thank goodness for that. Lowe was an unrepentant racist and anti-Semite and apparently did not have a winning message even when such views might have been welcome.

All of this is a long wind up to the current day political aspirations of Rodney "Red" Grant, a comic, actor, writer, and producer, who recently announced that he would be running for DC Council At-Large. His signs are cropping up around town, some nine months ahead of the November election. While the stakes in the election are high nationally with both the presidency and balance of power in Congress up for grabs, locally, it's going to be a bit of a snoozer with the only seats up for grabs being nonvoting delegate of the U.S. House of Representatives, shadow senators and representatives (more on that when I write at some point about D.C. statehood), and two at-large seats on the Council.

But back to Grant who ran for DC mayor in 2022 as an independent, garnering 14.9 percent of the vote against incumbent Muriel Bowser. His platform from back then seems pretty mom and apple pie -- less crime, better schools, more support for small business. But it's not clear to me who his constituency, particularly that this time, he's running as a Democrat and will face incumbent Robert White in the primary. I've yet to see a sign for White, although some yards are still sporting signs from his 2022 mayoral run and someone knocked on our door last week collecting signatures to get him on the ballot. But we'll see how the race shapes up: the deadline to file is March 6 and the Democratic primary is June 4.

Presidents' Day

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 19 Feb 2024 13:00:00 +0000

Happy Monday when we conveniently have a long weekend and a celebration of the birthdays of George Washington (who was born February 22, 1732) and Abraham Lincoln (who was born on February 12, 1809). No one much seems to notice that two other US presidents were born in February -- William Henry Harrison and Ronald Reagan -- and perhaps for good reason.

Washington is replete with memorials and monuments to presidents and today's honorees have plum spots on the National Mall with the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial. Both are worth introductory and repeat visits, but there are also two other local spots where one can soak in the history of these two men: Mount Vernon and the Lincoln Cottage. Interestingly, neither of these are owned or managed by the National Park Service (so be prepared to book ahead and pay for tickets) and both take a little bit of effort to visit. But don't let that dissuade you from doing so.

Mount Vernon sits on the banks of the Potomac, some 17 miles south of Washington and about 10 miles south of Old Town Alexandria, which was a bustling port in Washington's time. It is owned by the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association of the Union, and the first time I visited, the interpretation was about what you might expect from a group with such a name. But some time in the mid 2000s, the ladies upped their game, bringing in professional curators and historians so that the site now provides a more robust educational experience. While there is definitely a tone of hero worship here, there is now more context for his life and work, including the operations of the plantation which was maintained by hundreds of enslaved people. The setting is stunning and the grounds provide an enjoyable stroll through woodlands and farmland. The house is elegant but surprisingly small, especially in comparison to the residences of European royalty at the time.

The Lincoln Cottage is in Washington proper although in Lincoln's day, it was considered out of town and he used it as a retreat, close enough to the White House to allow a daily commute but removed enough to be away from the noise and odors of the city and to catch a coolish breeze on a hot summer night. Built in 1842 on the site that ten years later became the Soldier's Home, it today abuts Rock Creek Church Cemetery (which is worth a visit as well). The guided visit takes about an hour and you may learn some things that were absent from your high school history lesson. Notably, the organization that owns and manages the site has made a major commitment to education, using Lincoln's life and work as a springboard to contemporary discussion about liberty, equality, and social justice. (But you can also rent it for your wedding or corporate retreat.)

Both sites are open daily but it's probably smart to book ahead.

Life is Like a Box of Chocolates

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 12 Feb 2024 13:00:00 +0000

I had a total hip replacement 10 days ago which means I've pretty much been confined to home, getting my steps in by laps around kitchen, dining room, and living room. I cannot complain -- my pain level is manageable, my surgeon is skilled, and my husband is an attentive caregiver. I had the right side done a year ago with great results so I'm expecting the same on the left. Still, getting out and about is taking a back seat to rehab and recovery.

So while I have no new content on things to do and see locally, I can share a recommendation—one that might come in handy with Valentine’s Day coming up on Wednesday.

Friends who live in northern Virginia came for dinner a few weeks ago and brought a box of chocolates from Artisan Confections as a bread-and-butter gift. Now, I'm not really a chocolate gal. Given the choice between vanilla and chocolate ice cream, I will always pick vanilla. Same for apple pie and chocolate mousse -- apple pie wins every time. That said, these chocolates are absolutely delicious with complex flavors; plus, as you can see, each is a miniature work of art. Fortunately the box came with guide that identifies each confection. I spent a lot of time perusing it every time I made a selection although in the end, not one went uneaten.

Although I have lived in DC for 40 years, I still have a mental block against driving in Northern Virginia. There are certain places that I know how to get to such as National Airport and my husband's old office in Ballston. En route to other destinations, I'm as likely to end up in the Pentagon parking lot than wherever I'm supposed to be. It's completely irrational because it's only distant psychologically.

But I may have to overcome my mental block for a trip to Artisan Confections. The website lists two locations: 1025 N. Fillmore Street near the Clarendon Metro (I think I can handle that) and 1333 Chain Bridge Road in McLean (all bets are off particularly since there is also a 1333 Old Chain Bridge Road).

Four stars. Highly recommend.

The Future of Orchids

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 05 Feb 2024 13:00:00 +0000

I've always found February to be a rather grim month. Even though all that January snow melted and the days are getting longer, the skies seem perpetually gray and the sun is still low on the horizon.

Fortunately, the Smithsonian Gardens have come through with an exhibit, The Future of Orchids, that will lift the spirit while we wait for spring. Presented in the Kogod Courtyard at the National Portrait Gallery and the Smithsonian American Art Museum, this display of 350 plants includes both spectacular live varieties and more fanciful imagined ones, the work of Baltimore-based artist Phaan Howng. With apologies to the curators, I'll admit that I didn't spend much time on my visit reading the signage; I was simply too dazzled by the orchids (both real and faux) themselves.

I love this courtyard, a wonderful respite from the hustle and bustle of the neighborhood. There's a cafe if you want a bite to eat, but if you brown bag it, or bring in something from other eateries, no one seems to care. Whenever I go, there's always a toddler or two eager to be set free from their strollers, small groups of colleagues engaged in discussion, and plenty of singles -- eating, reading or just enjoying a moment of peace.

The day I was there last week, there were preparations underway for some kind of evening event but the setting was still serene and welcoming. Those who have visited the British Museum in London will note that this is the work of the same architect, Norman Foster.

The orchids are on display until April 28th. The building is open daily from 11:30 am to 7:00 pm. As always, admission is free.

And a few more orchids......

Creatures Among Us

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 29 Jan 2024 13:00:00 +0000

My neighborhood is within the city limits of the District of Columbia but it has the distinct feel of an older suburb: single family houses with yards (albeit small ones), lots of big trees, and as it turns out, more wildlife than you might expect. This weekend, on my walk to CVS, I spotted this black vulture perched on the dumpster in the alley. There's a small, high-end grocer there which touts its butcher. I've never dropped any money there -- it's so expensive and my meat eating is modest -- but I'm guessing that the vultures value the scraps.

It got me to thinking about the wildlife in our midst. We have the usual squirrels (both gray and black), raccoons, opossums, and rabbits, plus lots of crows, starlings, robins, blue jays, and the occasional goldfinch. Since the pandemic, we've seen more and more red foxes walking boldly down the street in the early morning hours. I hear that there are coyotes in Rock Creek Park though I've never seen one. Nor have I been privy to the occasional black bear sitings; last summer there was one in the Brookland neighborhood in Northeast and another was captured in the northern reaches of Chevy Chase in the Maryland suburbs.

Still, it's always a bit jarring to see wild creatures in this setting, given the amount of people and cars. I caught this photo of a Cooper's hawk on our fence back in February 2021.

For more DC centric wild bird content, you should definitely check out Popville (formerly known as the Prince of Petworth) and its intermittent feature, Hawks around Town.

I understand that deer like to live on the edge of the forest which has made them a bit of nuisance in many areas that abut the woods. I caught the photo of a big buck back in July 2020, just about a half a mile from my house in area where there is a small strip of woods between the road and a local park with soccer and baseball fields.

I will leave you with a pic of these very good boys patiently waiting while their owner filled a prescription.

Snow

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 22 Jan 2024 13:00:00 +0000

Like they needed this sign.

We got about seven inches of snow last week, spread out over two days (Monday and Friday), the first snowfall exceeding one inch in over two years.

I gotta say that I don't really love snow -- I mean, I like how it looks when it's falling and every branch and every leaf has a lovely coating. But even 40 years after leaving my Southern childhood home and experiencing a couple of big snowfalls each season, I still haven't conquered the skill of driving in snow or developed a love of winter sport. Happily now as an empty nester, I don't have to fret about whether DC public schools will make the 5 am call to close or have a two-hour delay, or watch my kids go to bed with pajamas turned inside out in hopes that the next day will be good for sledding. And as a retiree, I don't have to trudge to the Metro, picking my way along the sidewalks which certain neighbors never shovel. In any case, I am happiest when it snows and then two days later, it's all gone.

I also don't have a lot of patience for the people who moved here from Buffalo or Chicago or places where the snow piles up in feet rather than inches. You like snow -- good for you! But stop berating the locals for the inevitable rush to the grocery store, the fact that the city generally shuts down when there's more than a couple inches, and when people skid off the road into a ditch. (Okay, maybe bully those drivers for not driving more carefully or just staying home.). It's tiresome and honestly no one cares.

I tried to get some pictures of the snow but it's hard when all you really want to do is stay inside, cuddled up with a good book and a mug of tea, and maybe exert oneself enough to make soup or cookies. But what could be more peak DC than a teeny tiny snowman (snow person? snow creature?) with a political yard sign or an icy sidewalk.

In any case, I am hopeful that by the time you read this, the temperatures will be back above freezing and all of this white stuff will soon be a distant memory.

Reflections on MLK Day

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 15 Jan 2024 13:00:00 +0000

Funeral procession for Martin Luther King, Jr., April 9, 1968

There are dates in history that are seared in our minds -- John F. Kennedy's assassination, the moon landing, Nixon's resignation, the failed launch of the Challenger space shuttle, and 9/11. I was too young to remember JFK's death and I slept right through the moon landing, even though I had asked my mom to wake me up so I could see the astronauts take those first steps. The others are vivid in my memory.

My first memory of a public event was Martin Luther King's funeral in 1968, not so much because I knew he was a great man who had been murdered, but because my parents left us with a babysitter that afternoon so they could join the tens of thousands who walked in the procession through the streets of downtown Atlanta. A couple of years later, I was miffed that my grandparents, who came to hear me present a report on King Henry VIII to my 5th grade class, were more interested in the fact that my classmate, Dexter King, the younger of MLK's two sons, was lying on the floor under a table in the living room section of our classroom, than in my carefully researched work.

These memories are of course colored now by my grownup understanding of King's work. And thankfully given that his birthday is a national holiday, this is not forgotten (although sometimes terribly misinterpreted in bad faith). Today, the airwaves and newspapers will be full of tributes and I'm sure we'll be hearing plenty of "I have a dream" and "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere" as the appreciations roll out.

But for me, the words of Dr. King that resonate most deeply, with both admiration and some measure of embarrassment, are from his "Letter from a Birmingham Jail," written in April 1963 after his arrest in the course of nonviolent demonstrations against racism and racial segregation. In his letter, addressed to the city’s white clergy, King admonishes them for doing too little too late – for not throwing their shoulders behind the wheel, for not using their power to bring about true justice.

“I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season..."

“I felt that the white ministers, priests and rabbis of the South would be among our strongest allies. Instead, some have been outright opponents….all too many others have been more cautious than courageous and have remained silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained glass windows.”

Ouch.

So today, when you hear the words delivered at the March on Washington, on receipt of the Nobel Peace Prize, or any other occasion, remember that we (and particularly those of us who are privileged) are called to do more than just honor Dr. King. We are also called to do more than write checks, read and reflect, and go to the occasional march or protest. These are all fine but they are not sufficient. The work of justice requires us to get off the sidelines and get into the thick of it now, and not when most convenient; to speak up even when it may seem embarrassing or feel impolite; to listen and support our neighbors who are fighting for things that many of us take for granted.

One of the most meaningful things I've been doing in retirement is becoming more actively involved in the Washington Interfaith Network, an organization comprised of dozens of houses of worship across DC, where we are challenged to build deep relationships -- across race and across faith -- and work productively to build affordable housing, improve the conditions of public housing, strengthen opportunities for Black homeownership, address threats posed by climate change, and address the epidemic of gun violence that is shattering many communities in Washington.

The work can be slow and it can be frustrating, but even so, it is also soul strengthening. It's something else to sit in the sanctuary at Metropolitan AME Church and listen to the powerful words of its pastor, Rev. William Lamar, surrounded by others who are in common cause. It's stirring to listen to the choir at Varick Memorial in Ward 7 and then cheer on neighborhood residents as they demand specific actions of city council members. And it is joyful to celebrate WIN's wins with people from all these different congregations, most of whom I would otherwise never meet.

We are still a long way from Dr. King's vision of the beloved community. But engaging in direct action and doing more than, as he said, "mouth pious irrelevancies and sanctimonious trivialities" seems like a pretty decent start.

Monument Monday

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 08 Jan 2024 13:30:00 +0000

When the world went into lockdown in March 2020 and many of us shifted to working from home, I started sending an email every morning to the staff of the small federal agency where I was executive director. My "good morning team" messages were meant to keep us connected to each other. Sometimes I tried to be uplifting; other times, I took a more prosaic approach, wishing happy birthdays; sharing information and resources of observances such as Hispanic Heritage Month or Juneteenth; eliciting comments on podcasts, books, and TV shows; and asking people to post picture of their pets and their summer vacations. Pet content always elicited the biggest response -- alas, I have no pets.

As it turns out, having something to say every single damn day is harder than it sounds. As the weeks dragged on, I scrambled to keep it fresh. Out of desperation, I started the Monument Monday contest in which I would share a photo of what I thought was a somewhat obscure local monument, awarding points for the first correct answer. While I thought this might encourage people to get out and about at a time when there was little else to do, it turns out that it simply taught folks how to use Google image search.

At any rate, in the spirit of Monument Monday, today's post is about a monument that I had no idea existed until I stumbled upon it during the Beyond Granite: Pulling Together exhibit in August. The memorial to the 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence is on a small island in Constitution Gardens (on the north side of the Mall, between the Vietnam Memorial and 15th Street). Conceived as part of the many Bicentennial celebrations that took place in 1976, it wasn't actually authorized until 1978 and not completed until 1984.

As monuments go, it's pretty modest, consisting of a series of smooth granite blocks etched with the actual signature of each signer, plus their state, hometown, and profession. There's no additional signage or commentary on the events that led to the declaration or the back stories of these men, whom history now tells us were both visionaries and deeply flawed individuals. In any case, the setting provides a wonderful spot for quiet contemplation, whether your thoughts run to evaluating the success of the American experiment or considering what's for dinner.

New Year's Resolutions

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 01 Jan 2024 13:00:00 +0000

It's that time of year when news content is full of best of lists, retrospectives, predictions, and suggestions for New Year's resolutions. I guess I should be happy that there is a counterweight to headlines about bombings, disinformation campaigns, and the effects of climate change. Even so, I find that these stories make me feel inadequate. I read 60 books this year but not a single one from the New York Times' 10 best books. Oppenheimer was the only one of the Times' 10 best movies that I saw and honestly, I didn't love it. And I only think I heard one song off of Rolling Stones' top 10 from the year but that's only because I saw the Barbie movie. (Full disclosure: I don't even know who some of those artists are.)

When it comes to making New Year's resolutions, I am decidedly on the fence. NPR's Life Kit has helpfully provided a list of 50 (!) suggestions for things I could be doing to make my life better. Thankfully, I can check some of these off my 2024 to do list: e.g., get married, decide whether to have kids, and quit my job. There are some chestnuts here around diet and exercise, plus a few that don't appeal at all (get into birding).

The experts say that writing things down or worse yet, posting them to social media, creates a stronger mechanism for accountability than just having an abstract goal in your head. That makes a certain kind of sense but in my experience, it's not the list writing that does the trick when it comes to creating new habits or using my time more fruitfully. I just need that switch to go off in my head. It's either going to happen or not, and I couldn't tell you why that switch sometimes goes off and sometimes, it remains stubbornly untouched.

One thing I will publicly commit to is to publish something here every Monday in 2024. I hope you'll come back and better yet, leave me a comment or invite a friend to read along as well. Wishing everyone a happy, healthy, and peaceful new year.

Until next week......

Merry Christmas!

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 25 Dec 2023 13:30:00 +0000

The neighbors are once again outdoing themselves with the array of holiday inflatables decorating their lawns. But for whatever reason, I don't find the Christmas-related ones nearly as intriguing as those put up for Halloween. I do love a good display of lights, whether they be the white twinkly ones or the more traditional multi-colored string. However, my photographic skills are not sufficient to capture these effectively.

So merry Christmas to all who celebrate and to all those who enjoy the festivities no matter their faith. And I'll leave you with this photo of a creative and low-cost approach to decorating.

Telling the Story of Black Broad Branch and Belmont

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 18 Dec 2023 13:11:00 +0000

The Friendship Heights neighborhood, which straddles the line between DC and Maryland, has become a bit of a ghost town with big retail failing during the pandemic, emptying out two indoor shopping spaces -- Mazza Gallerie and Chevy Chase Pavilion -- plus countless other smaller spaces. A business improvement district (BID), the Friendship Heights Alliance, has been formed to spur redevelopment and what they called "placemaking" on both sides of the District line, but it's going to be awhile before the area is vibrant again.

Say what you will about BIDs, one positive step by this one has been activation of the streetscape of a PEPCO substation along the west side of Wisconsin Avenue between Harrison and the south entrance of the Metro station, with exhibits focused on neighborhood history. Last year, local historians worked with students at Jackson-Reed High School to tell the story of the taking of the Fort Reno from Black residents who lived there after the Civil War and into the early 20th century. And this week, a new exhibit opened to tell two additional stories of the area's shameful past: the forced relocation of Black families living along Broad Branch Road to create a school and park serving White families, and the actions of the Chevy Chase Land Company to prevent development of Belmont, a subdivision on the Maryland side of Chevy Chase that was the brain child of Black developers. The last panel brings us out of the past to the present, suggesting opportunities for repair and reparations.

The project, a collaboration of independent historians, the DC History Center, and the University of District of Columbia, will likely be up for awhile so you have time to wander over to absorb it all.

Martin Weil is a National Treasure

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 11 Dec 2023 13:04:00 +0000

You are probably wondering who Martin Weil is and why someone you've probably never heard of should be considered a national treasure. But feast your eyes on this from the Sunday Washington Post:

At a time when weather reports focus on the sensational, Weil, a longtime reporter for the Washington Post's metro section, takes the mundane and makes it special. I'd call these pieces tone poems but the specific details on weather metrics keep them in the realm of reportage.

How he does this day after day is beyond me so I reached out (actually twice) to learn more from the man himself. But he never responded, leaving me to imagine his motivations and source of inspiration. I have a lot of bones to pick with The Washington Post these days, as it lays off seasoned reporters and cuts back on local coverage in its quest to be recognized as the national paper of record. But the fact that Weil is still doing his thing gives me hope.

Thank you Martin Weil for sharing your insights, lyrical prose, and detailed reporting.

For Your Listening Enjoyment

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 04 Dec 2023 13:00:00 +0000

From Foxtrot Comics by Bill Amend

These days when getting together with friends, the conversation predictably leads to three questions: What are you reading? What are you watching? And, what are you listening to?

I love a good podcast and love having the company in my pocket while I cook, do yard work, or just take a walk. My podcast listening started (predictably for my demographic) with This American Life and Serial but has since branched out. When I gave up my New Yorker subscription, finding that I could either read books or read The New Yorker, it was nice to realize that Terry Gross routinely interviews the authors of the magazine's longest articles, condensing hours I would have spent trying to understand the origins of an overseas conflict or the ins and outs of cryptocurrency, with a tight 50 minutes on the Fresh Air podcast.

But sometimes subscribing to an interesting podcast can feel as much like a chore as doing the laundry or striving for in-box zero. So what I really love is a good limited series that reels me in for 6 episodes or so and then I'm off the hook. In that spirit, here are a few of the limited series I can heartily recommend. Listen, as they say, "wherever you get your podcasts."

Wind of Change: In 1990 when things were changing rapidly in Eastern Europe, the West German band, The Scorpions, had a mega hit with a power ballad, Wind of Change. This podcast by the same name asks the question of whether the song was actually written by The Scorpions or by the CIA. Yes that's right. In the hands of Patrick Radden Keefe, a journalist who had huge success with books about the troubles in Ireland and the Sackler family, this question doesn't seem so silly.

Anything that Rachel Maddow puts her hands on: Rachel Maddow is incredibly impressive but I find her TV show to be a bit much given that she generally makes her point in the first 10 minutes and uses the remaining 50 to make it again and again. But the three limited series podcasts that she has produced and hosted are all top notch, focusing on parallels between sometimes forgotten moments in U.S. history and politics and the present day. Bagman is all about Spiro Agnew, who was forced to resign from the vice presidency (fortunately before Nixon resigned). Ultra takes us back to the 1930s when there was a strong fascist streak in American politics, and Deja News riffs on the question of "has this happened before?" with a series of different stories on the theme. That Maddow is a good storyteller is no surprise, but I also love that she doesn't hog the spotlight from her collaborators.

Buried Truths: This podcast, hosted by former Atlanta Constitution managing editor Hank Klibanoff and produced by WABE, focuses on civil rights cold cases. Klibanoff has pressed his students at Emory into action to help uncover the truth about cases from the 1950s and 60s where justice was not served. The team combs court records and FBI files, and interviews the surviving children of those either falsely accused or all too often murdered. Technically, this is not a limited series because there are now four seasons in the book but each season is one long arc about one story. It's amazing how Klibanoff and his students turn historical scraps of evidence into a compelling narrative. Plus I love hearing it all in Klibanoff's soft Alabama accent.

Scamanda: One of my former colleagues turned me onto this -- a riveting tale about how a young woman named Amanda scammed hundreds of people (including members of her own family) into giving her tens of thousands of dollars supposedly for cancer treatment. Why do we find true crime so addictive? I can't say but this one will definitely keep you wondering what happens next. My one complaint is that the eight episodes could probably have been trimmed to just six.

La Brega: Back when my job required me to think about how Medicaid worked in the U.S. territories, I discovered this podcast all about Puerto Rico. This was a fascinating dive into the history and culture of a place that is both part and apart from the rest of the United States. You can listen in either English or Spanish; either way, you won't be disappointed.

Do you have a favorite limited series to share? If so, drop me a line in the comments.

Falling Leaves

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 27 Nov 2023 13:30:00 +0000

At a recent online meeting, the icebreaker question was "what is your favorite thing about fall?" There were shoutouts to hayrides and apple picking, football and Halloween candy. My favorite? Hands down, it's the changing of the leaves and the riot of oranges, yellows, and reds that grace my neighborhood.

We are well past peak fall color here in DC so we've now turned to the raking portion of the season. When I was a kid, I was always looking for somewhere to hide when my dad pressed us kids into action to deal with our big front and back lawns.

Thankfully, the yard at my house is a fraction of the size of that at my childhood home. Plus the city vacuums up leaves left at the curb and while there are many kinks in that system, it certainly beats having to bag them.

The garden crews that people hire to de-leaf their lawns almost exclusively use blowers to get the job done. Last year, a new ordinance was passed banning gas-powered blowers, in part because they use fossil fuels and pollute our air. But they are also incredibly noisy, something I didn't quite get until I was working from home during the height of the pandemic.

However, enforcement seems weak. Unlike the parking cops who troll the neighborhood looking for cars that have outstayed their welcome, the key mechanism to get rid of the gas-powered machines is for neighbors to submit a complaint online. You need a lot of information to do so and it's not clear what kind of followup is done. The garden crews definitely prefer the older equipment which has greater power and gets the job done faster.

As with all things political, the neighbors seem quite content to voice their opinions with yard signs.

As for me, I remain solidly on team rake and have the blisters to prove it. In fact, I'd better get off the computer and go tackle the yard.

Happy Thanksgiving!

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 20 Nov 2023 13:00:00 +0000

It's a busy week for most of us but since I'm trying to stick with a regular routine of posting every Monday, I'd thought I'd pop in to wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving. The list of things for which I am thankful is quite long, not the least of which is a giant turkey inflatable.

Plus who wouldn't mind a cheerful seasonal greeting from Tigger? Enjoy the turkey and pie and don't start a fight at the dinner table with your crazy uncle.

Thanks to Our Veterans (a little late)

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 13 Nov 2023 13:42:00 +0000

Veterans Day was either Friday or Saturday of last week. Unlike other federal holidays that are observed on the closest Monday to the actual holiday, Veterans Day is always observed on the exact day itself -- November 11. I'm confused though because while the 11th fell on Saturday this year, the federal holiday was observed on Friday but somehow the mail carrier still delivered our mail that day.

My confusion is not the point, though. We observe Veterans Day on the 11th of November because that's when the armistice for World War I went into effect, even more specifically the guns went silent at 11 am, making it final on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. And in my family, this is significant because both of my grandfathers served in World War I.

My father's father, Abraham B. Schwartz (or Beb as he was known from childhood) was 26 when the U.S. entered the war. He was a fully qualified physician and therefore entered the U.S. Army as an officer. Although I knew him well, his war experience was never something that we discussed. Moreover, his military records were among many that were destroyed by a massive fire in 1973 at the National Personnel Records Center in St. Louis. So what I know of his Army experience is pieced together from photos, other official records, and a few jottings in his handwriting and that of my grandmother.

After being inducted in Milwaukee in late 1917, he received his basic training at Fort Riley, Kansas. In August 1918, he boarded the Leviathan, en route for U.S. Base Hospital 82 in Toul in northeastern France. This was just about 25 miles from St. Mihiel, where a major battle was fought in September of that year. Beb was not a surgeon so I'm not sure what his role might have been in such an engagement.

The rest of his service is a bit of a mystery, the only clues being the photo below which is labeled on the back "interviewing Russians at a displaced persons camp, 1919" and a note in his official Abridged Prayer Book for Jews in the Army and Navy of the United States, that he was a volunteer with Russian prisoners of war. Perhaps the Yiddish spoken in his childhood home or phrases in Russian that his parents brought with them when they emigrated from what is now Belarus was helpful?

He was discharged in August 1919, returning to Milwaukee where he practiced pediatrics until he turned 80.

My mother's father, Sydney Freedman, had a different experience. He died on my 5th birthday so I only have a few memories of him but fortunately, I do have a few facts. In the fall of 1917, he was two years out of high school, working as a salesman for E. Kirstein and Sons, a manufacturer of optical products in Rochester, NY. (Two interesting footnotes here: First, the company held his job and paid a portion of his salary throughout his military service. Second, the "sons" of the company title included Lincoln Kirstein, perhaps best known as one of the founders of the New York City Ballet and who also served in World War II as one of its Monuments Men, locating and retrieving artworks stolen by the Nazis.).

He did his basic training at Fort Dix, New Jersey where the Thanksgiving meal included both oysters on the half shell and roast loin of pork, items that certainly would not have been eaten in his Jewish home. In May 1918, Battery D 19th Field Artillery shipped out for Europe on a ship called Tunisian, arriving almost a month later. New York State maintained records of soldiers in its own archive which is how I know that his unit engaged at Vosges, St. Mihiel, Thiacourt, and "Pogney Front", the last of these yielding nothing on a Google search. A lifelong joker, Private Freedman told my mother that he served in the cavalry and his job was to clean "the part under the horse's tail."

When the armistice came, he was sent to be part of the U.S. forces supervising the evacuation of the Germans from Luxembourg, billeting with a family in Itzig, until his discharge in July 1919. My mother-in-law's family came from that area and left aunts, uncles, and cousins behind, the descendants of whom the family remains in touch with to this day. It is crazy for me to consider that my grandfather, this short, portly Jewish fellow from New York, might have lived with the Catholic farmers related to my husband, and what they might have made of each other.

Syd's younger brother Ephraim also served in the army but never went further than Buffalo.

His future brothers-in-law, Sam and Joseph Cohen, were not inducted until May 1918, and they too never saw any overseas action. Their basic training took place at Camp Sheridan near Montgomery, Alabama and I imagine (although can't say for sure) that this was the furthest they'd ever been away from home.

Happily for their mothers, all these men came home in one piece (because if not, I would not be here at all). Sadly for all of us, World War I did not turn out to be the war to end all wars.

What to Do at This Moment?

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 06 Nov 2023 13:50:00 +0000

The world is a dumpster fire right now. The situation in the Middle East is heart breaking, both because of the human toll on innocent Israelis and Palestinians and because there doesn't seem to be a way forward. The war in Ukraine rages on. Drug overdose deaths are up 30 percent year over year. September was the hottest its been in nearly 200 years of climate record keeping. The polls suggest that Donald Trump will almost certainly be the Republican candidate in the 2024 election and he could very well become president again.

So what does one person do?

In my childhood home, Robert F. Kennedy's words from his 1966 speech at the University of Capetown were posted on the bulletin board in the kitchen, alongside the emergency numbers and youth soccer schedule. The excerpt was this:

It is from numberless diverse acts of courage such as these that the belief that human history is thus shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.

I took note and taped these to the wall over my desk at my first real job on Capitol Hill, reminding me that there was a purpose to my efforts that was bigger than the daily grind of answering constituent mail. They spurred me on to a career focused on improving health care, particularly for those with low incomes.

But what to do at this particular moment when everything all at once seems to be headed south? I could write to my member of Congress, except as a District resident, my representative does not have a vote or much of a voice. I could consume a steady diet of news and opinion about all the world's ills and endlessly discuss my angst and my preferred solutions with friends and family.

To what end? I don't think anyone has noticed that I don't patronize Chick-Fil-A because its owners are big contributors to organizations that foster hate against the LGBTQ+ community, or that I stay away from The Wharf due to the unconscionable development deal struck by the city with property owners who cater primarily to the wealthy. I'd be kidding myself to think that these actions are resolving problems. Or that I have the power to affect all the world's troubles all at once.

So then what?

These days my acts to improve the lots of others are small, one might say infinitesimal. They include filling up the Little Free Library at the transitional housing facility for families, sending weekly greeting cards to lonely nursing home residents as part of the Letters Against Isolation campaign, advocating for affordable housing in affluent Upper Northwest DC, writing get-out-the-vote postcards to folks in states with important elections, and selling pies to support Food & Friends, a local organization that provides nourishing meals to people dealing with chronic illness.

Do these tiny acts send out the "tiny ripples of hope" as RFK suggested? I've been thinking about this a lot and honestly, I'm not so sure. But in the end, I do these things not because I think they make a huge difference or even because doing them makes me feel better. Rather I know that if I did nothing, I'd feel as if I hadn't tried. And for now, that will have to be enough.

-------

As a postscript, I wanted to share a prayer offered by Rabbi Sarah Krinsky at a recent prayer vigil convened by the Washington Interfaith Network. I found her words both sorrowful and comforting, a combination that seems pitch perfect right now.

Eloheinu v’elohei avoteinu v’imoteinu - our God and God of our ancestors, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel and Leah

God of Jesus and his disciples, God of Muhammad and his descendants

God of mothers. God of lovers. God of children, magical and real

God of fighters. God of peacemakers. God of peace.

God of those who call out, who cry out. God of those who cry

God of those who are angry at God. God of those at whom God is angry.

God of those who have lost their way, lost their faith, God of those who have abandoned and of those who have been abandoned. God of the godless

God who performs miracles. God of past and of present. God of an imagined future

God of the captives, of the un-free.

God of those holding onto hope. God of those who are drowning in despair. God of those who are drowning and those who are thirsty and of those who thirst for something better

Our God, all of our God - to you we pray.

We pray to you knowing that you are getting a lot of prayers these days. Prayers that are coming a mile a minute, language by language, prayers from a parent, then a child, then a parent again. Your divine ears, oh god, must be brimming, overflowing with the endless cacophony. Please, oh God. Please no, oh God. If only, I promise, just guide me, oh God.

But we know, God, that you hear not just with ears, but with an endlessly expansive and capacious heart. A heart that does not just recognize words but that sees pain. A heart that doesn’t just listen to liturgy but that senses loss, or despair, of hope, or faith, or love.

Hear us with that heart, oh God. Hear our yearning. Witness our connection. See that we’re trying. See that we’re crying. Hear us with that heart. And help us to hear, to witness, to see and to love in Your image, as your holy emissaries in this messy broken world.

Baruch atah adonai, shomei tefillah - blessed are you, oh God, who hears all prayers.

Buh-bye Twitter (or X or whatever it is), Hello Threads

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Tue, 31 Oct 2023 13:25:00 +0000

I've finally decided enough is enough and deleted my Twitter account. If you want to follow me on Threads, you can find me at https://www.threads.net/@justanotherdayindc

Boo! Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 30 Oct 2023 12:12:00 +0000

I said last week that the neighbors were all in on Halloween, but some people have really gone next level.

Being clever and audacious is what gets points here. While I celebrate enthusiasm of those who decorate their yards with a little bit of everything -- tombstones, a witch's striped stockings coming out of the ground, a random skeleton or two, plus a random trick or treating cartoon character -- I get the feeling that these seem more like "art as process" than anything else. Just like the dozens of "art" works that my kids produced in nursery school (most of which I tossed almost immediately), these yards seem to be more for the enjoyment of the decorators than the viewers. Also no fake cobwebs -- I mean who thinks that mess looks anything like cobwebs.

So on to my picks for best in show.

The Georgetown Skellys in designer attire (they even have their own Instagram account)

Smaller effort but major points for creepiness and for repurposing the toys your kids no longer use

Skeletons who've caught the pickleball bug

A 13 foot Jack Skellington from Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas. He's animatronic with motion sensors that will set off his mouth and hand movements. And for $399, one should definitely expect that level of spookiness. One neighbor has added an additional song feature.

A Barbie house on a corner lot in Glover Park/Burleith. By the way, it looks like Barbie Pond on Avenue Q has a new look for Halloween with its haunted Malibu dream-house.

But the prize definitely goes to this house. I took a bunch of pictures two weeks ago and then when I went by on Saturday, I found that additional figures had been added.

First, the whole house view and then some details.

That's it for Halloween. Stay tuned in case the neighbors pull out all the stops at Christmas.

Boo!

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 23 Oct 2023 12:35:00 +0000

The neighbors have gone nuts decorating for Halloween. I've snapped so many pictures that I will have to do this in two parts -- a potpourri of themes today and then my best-in-show next week. For the record, my Halloween decorations consist of a pumpkin I bought at Safeway. Rest assured that trick or treaters will be welcome at my house -- at least until 9 pm when all the little ones should be home in bed or stuffing themselves with chocolate.

First up are the witches.

Next up: pumpkins

Tasteful

Cheerful

All in on the theme

Squirrels at work

Which brings us to all manner of skeletons:

Die-hard Nationals fan

The whole family just settin' out on the stoop

Traditionally spooky

For Game of Thrones enthusiasts

The little mermaid of your nightmares

Aging rocker

And finally (for today), inflatables:

See you next week!

What the Heck?!

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 16 Oct 2023 12:27:00 +0000

You seem some odd things when out and about and your head is attuned to making content.

I'm trying to imagine what happened to this street sign. The bend in the pole is far too high to be the result of being rammed by a vehicle. Did a strong wind do this?

A shoe tree in bloom?

Nice try camouflaging this port-a-potty in your front yard. I'm sure that the neighbors really appreciated this extra effort.

Could be my mantra.

Hate for "Washington" is Misplaced

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 09 Oct 2023 12:00:00 +0000

Artwork by jenhud.com

The current dysfunction in the U.S. House of Representatives would be fun to watch if it weren't so sad for the nation. No matter what your political stripe, I'm pretty sure that we all just want the federal government to function with professionalism. And while we're far from the actual fisticuffs that sometimes broke out on the House floor in the 19th century, we're dangerously close to being unable to distinguish the proceedings from Jerry Springer show antics.

But one thing that particularly chafes me are the potshots being aimed at Washington. Unfair and uncalled for!

While Washington is clearly shorthand for some thing that people love to hate, it is an actual real place where real people (nearly 700,00 of them) live, work, and play. And despite the notion that the population completely swaps out with each presidential transition, this is far from the case. There are many people here who do indeed make a living that is somehow connected to the activities of the federal government: as career employees, journalists, advocates for interests as varied as low-income families to every type of industry, etc. But many more just do the things that people do everywhere: drive the bus, run a shop, care for the sick, make IT systems function, teach, cook and serve meals, and pick up the trash. Moreover, 85 percent of federal employees live outside the DC metro region.

But the current brouhaha on the Hill was not fomented by anyone from Washington -- the guy who just lost his job is from Southern California and his archenemy is from Pensacola, Florida. The rest of the rogue Republicans are from Arizona (two of them!), Colorado, Montana, Tennessee, and South Carolina, plus one guy from Virginia whose district office is in Lynchburg, a city maybe best known as the home of Jerry Falwell's Liberty University. And if you are one to blame the Democrats for joining with this group -- remember that Washington has no voting representation in Congress. (I'll save the discussion of statehood for another day.)

So if you're mad, fine. I get it. But make sure your anger is directed at the people who are making the mess and leave those of us proud to be called Washingtonians out of it.

Lawn Garnish

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 02 Oct 2023 12:00:00 +0000

Years ago, in the days before children and other commitments, my husband and I took a lot of long bike rides in the country where I was always charmed and intrigued by the yards we would pass by and the extensive array of things determined appropriate for the front lawn.

There were the inevitable wishing wells and lawn jockeys, the kissing Dutch children in their wooden shoes, the bloomered backsides of grandmas weeding, the geese wearing bonnets, and cartoon characters including Wiley Coyote in hot pursuit of the Road Runner, Roger Rabbit, and Bugs Bunny, and even the California Raisins. I always thought this was an American thing, that is, until on a trip to the Aeolian Islands off the coast of Sicily, I noted that Snow White and the seven dwarves seemed to be favorite features in the locals' gardens.

My snapshots could never really capture the charm of lawn ornaments (nor was I willing to venture very close to get the best photo). I thought I should venture forth some day with a better camera and create a coffee table book of these bits of ornamentation. But of course, I never did. In the digital world of today, this would be a good topic for Instagram but again, this seems like a much bigger commitment than I am willing to make.

My fascination with what I affectionately call lawn garnish never abated though nor apparently people's desire to decorate their yards with all manner of humorous tableaux. And while the DC variety tends to be on the smaller side (as befits the smaller yards), my fellow Washingtonians are clearly up to the task. Here's the latest of what I've seen on my walks over the past few months.

There's a whole other category of art created in alleyways and along back fences, but that is a subject for another day.

Capital Jewish Museum

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 25 Sep 2023 12:02:00 +0000

It's Yom Kippur, the most sacred day of the year in Jewish calendar, and I should be fasting. But I'm not. Fasting doesn't make me look inward. It just makes me cranky. And since there are other things I can do to be a good Jew, I'm going to focus on those instead.

Learning and study are high on the list of mitzvot (obligations) for Jews, making a visit to the Capital Jewish Museum both a nice way to educate oneself about the history of the Jews in Washington, DC and a nice diversion from a book. The museum is built around the original Adas Israel synagogue which was dedicated in 1876 with President Ulysses S. Grant in attendance. The congregation decamped in 1908 for the building that is now Sixth and I and later moved to Cleveland Park. Over the subsequent years, the building was home to multiple churches and retail establishments. Thankfully the building was never torn down and was actually moved several times until it reopened earlier this year at 3rd and F Streets NW, with new exhibition space and other facilities wrapped around it.

The history of Washington's Jewish community follows a path similar to other localities. Its original members were relatively prosperous Sephardic Jews followed by middle class German immigrants post Civil War and those from Eastern Europe arriving later and into the early years of the 20th century. But since Washington was basically a small town until the New Deal and World War II dramatically expanded the size of the federal government and was under direct control of the US Congress until the 1970s, the story of the Jewish community is one of shopkeepers and artisans with few big personalities or stories.

This changed over time, and the second gallery features 100 accomplished Jewish Washingtonians who have distinguished themselves locally and nationally through careers in arts, science, political advocacy, commerce, and other fields. This and other exhibits touch on important and sometimes sensitive subjects such as race, reproductive freedom, human rights, and environmental justice, with a clear intention to promote reflection and action. There are buttons to push and other interactive features that will keep kids happy while the grownups stay busy with lots of text.

Right now you can also visit The Notorious RBG, an exhibition focused on Ruth Bader Ginsburg's life and work, created by the Skirball Cultural Center in Los Angeles. It's light on DC content (other than that she served on both the DC Circuit of the U.S. Court of Appeals and the Supreme Court) but full of interesting objects and successfully turns judicial decisions into visual displays for the non-lawyers among us (me included).

Museum entry is free although there is an additional fee for the RBG exhibit.

Empathy

noreply@blogger.com (Anne) — Mon, 18 Sep 2023 12:00:00 +0000

Someone has put up these colorful-but-somewhat-difficult-to-read-while-driving signs on telephone poles around DC and its neighboring jurisdictions, and that basically begged for a post.

My first thought was somewhat ironically not empathetic at all. I mean, sure, empathy seems like a good thing. It's certainly lacking in the current discourse. But does whomever went to all the trouble to paint and post these signs (which by the way is illegal) think that this will change behavior? Is a passerby really going to think, "oh wow yeah.....now that I see that sign, I realize that I should be more empathetic"?

Apparently, that's what the anonymous poster was thinking per an interview with the local NBC news affiliate. Over the objections of transportation authorities across the region, this individual plans to continue posting signs until "empathy is widely discussed in the region."

My second thought (well okay maybe it was my third, fourth, or fifth thought) was to question why I was getting all in a lather about this. So okay, maybe I don't buy the theory that these signs by themselves will change behavior. But the message still makes sense, right? We should all be more willing to see the world through other people's eyes, taking a moment to consider their point of view rather than just pouncing with all the reasons why we are right and they are wrong. And if takes a sign on a telephone pole to remind me of that, so be it.

So empathy posting guy, you were right and I was wrong. Your sign made me stop and think, and perhaps has even induced me to be a little more empathetic. Mission (or at least first step of the mission) accomplished.