Cherry Trees Blossoming on March 27, 2011

I missed the pho train this weekend. It was going to the usual Pho Viet place on 14th but it was embarking at 1130 am and I think there is a rule somewhere, if not in my head only, that lunch should not be eaten before noon. So stayed in bed until noon and left hoping to try out a different pho place in Adams Morgan that may or may not exist. But, like most other times when I leave my house, I didn't make it there.

I was on Columbia Road headed towards the AdMo and, per usual, there was a little market of Hispanic people selling food that smelled so good I could not walk on by without at least taking a look at the source of the smells. While money may be the fast track to my heart, ladies, free samples is the slow track. And the guy at the Puerto Rican tent now has a leg up on all of you. "Here try this delicious, slow-roasted pork regardless of the fact you are trying not to add to the demand curve of the meat industry," he said in so many words. "OK." Sold. I worked with a girl from Puerto Rico last year for about six months and she used to rave about mofongo and, me being me and her telling me it contained plantains, I told her it was probably terrible and would never try it. Well, it was pretty good, but don't tell her I said that.

So I never made it to the pho place and ate the plus/minus five pounds of food right there, all the while ignoring goals of not becoming a fat person and boycotting the animal torturing industry. But, whatever, if jesus didn't want me eating meat he wouldn't make it smell so good, right? Wrong. I'm just weak.

Have you ever walked on Lanier Place in Mt. Pleasant NW DC? You should. There are adorable little town houses with trees lining the road and an apartment building at the end of it that looks like this (I hope you're reading this on an Ipad to rotate it because that is not how it is oriented in real life)

because that's the actual building. It is the kind of street in DC that could make you forget that even though you live in a seemingly discreet part of town the bars that you thought were neighborhood bars are actually the types of places that people take cabs to and make crowded to the point of standing room only on a Friday night at 730. You know, the kind of street that gives you hope that DC is not merely a city where everyone follows everyone because they think that is where the epicenter of cool is but because it's familiar and comfortable and convenient. The type of street where people aren't so bored they appropriate causes or react disproportionately (see picture 1 below) to those they do stand for, but whose lives are driven by values and causes ingrained organically (see picture 2 below--both taken within a couple blocks of each other in Columbia Heights).

1: (don't get me wrong, DC Congressional representation is a legit issue, just not Egypt legit)

 

2: (the person on the bottom is holding a sign that says "Immigrant Rights")

What should be the next city I visit/scope out for future habitation?

Anyway, the National Cherry Blossom Festival started this weekend. Looking at trees is just about my perfect description of a Sunday, so I get on the metro and head downtown as if I am going to work since I work right off the Tidal Basin, around which are the cherry blossoms.

Now here is the type of situation for which I live:

Again, I am on the metro on the way down and it is quite crowded because nothing says DC is the national tourist/legislative capital like hoards of people going to look at trees that were a gift from our friends in Japan. Return the favor. There are these early twenties preppy ladies talking as if the metro car were their soapbox about how they will never just throw their kids to the electronics to occupy them or keep them quiet. They are standing right next to me and, truthfully, the food was about to zonk me out so I got a coffee from my home away from home/current location, Tynan, before I got on the metro and I'm duly caffeinated. So I interject, "I feel I must interjet here." They didn't get the Postal Service reference. "Don't you think this conversation would fit wonderfully with music scored in the background like in a movie." Well, either they didn't hear me or they chose to ignore me (probably the latter as usual) but they responded by saying, "I like your shoes." Yea you do because they're awesome, but that's not the point. Interestingly enough, though, it was my dad's idea to buy these shoes but I stole the idea from him because I needed new shoes and found them first and who says a 60 year old man can't non-ironically influence the fashion of a 25 year old? But that's not the point either. The point is they won the irrelevant statement game so I turned back to the window in defeat. Meanwhile there was an adorable baby crying a few seats ahead and it cried until its father gave it his Iphone. CLASSIC. I loved that moment like it was my own child, except I don't know how I would feel about a child of mine or how I would parent it because no one has been lucky enough to let me impregnate them and subsequently father the child. 

So, now I am down on the Tidal Basin just hanging out because there aren't any events for the festival going on yet. Here is the view from the basin of my work building:

And here is me under the blossoms eating this pretty girl's food that I met down here:

So a kid comes up and sits next to me and, naturally because I am good with the kids, I ask him what he's thinking. He says "I don't know" and throws some sticks at the ducks in the water. If I didn't just eat some dead pig I would have been perturbed by this, but I just said, "touche, child" and walked away because he was boring me. Then I walked past these tween girls that were like, "This is like really lame. Why do all these people care about trees that are doing what like every other tree in the world does in the spring?" And I agreed. Then I interjected because coffee lowers inhibitions and said, "Don't you think this conversation would be so much better if there were music in the background like in a movie?" They chuckled and I walked away because girls of every age make me uncomfortable.

Still lacking drama in my life, I take the bus home. This time we had drama. Finally. One guy gets on and is obviously drunk and is annoying people so this girl kind of says so to him. He didn't take kindly to that and repeated until he got off the bus many stops later, "What is that word for people that get up in other peoples' business?" This really happened and went unanswered the whole time. The answer is nosy btw. Then at another stop there's this one guy who says, "If anyone tries to get on before these ladies, I will punch you in the face!" This really happened, too. Is it wrong of me that I kind of wanted to see someone make him prove it? Yes. The answer is yes that is bad that you want to see someone get potentially punched in the face. Then when he was on the bus he was sweet-talking all the ladies, even going so far as to cleaning one's shoes. So I ask the elderly woman next to me, "Wouldn't it be great if there were music playing in the background this whole time like in a movie?" She said, "O which song?" No, lady, you're not supposed to say anything. You're supposed to look at me like I'm crazy. "Um, The Cold War Kids." Which I say because I just saw them in concert the night before. (Now there is no denying their talent but, like some other bands and what makes me dislike live music, they seemed as if being on stage was their job not their passion. I don't know enough about the economics of a touring band, but this band pretty much just played their songs--again, quite well--but did not interact with each other or the crowd much to convince me they inherently enjoyed playing live and were not just playing because that is what is required of a band to make a living of it. I mean they threw in, "DC, you are the best place to play," which I know is a lie because I've been to Portland I know playing there has to be better than playing in DC, but not much more than that. Maybe art shouldn't be used to make a financial living.) Anyway, the lady said, "I don't know them." "Ha, yea I would be surprised if you had." And I want this conversation to end because ladies of all ages make me uncomfortable. 

Can you believe VCU and Butler are going to the Final Four?! Madness.