Art Friday

Inspired by DCist's look at the evolving field of Art Criticism, I'll throw in my two cents about the Corcoran's Senior Thesis Exhibits. Every spring for about a month, the Corcoran gives a chunk of its exhibition space over to its students Senior Theses. Displaying the works of students in all fields of art (well, fine art, photography, graphic design, and something else), there is an "opening"every Thursday night with food and drink. While reception is technically "by invitation only," just act like you belong. Or just go for the art.

Personally, I was very impressed with the quality of work put up by the graphic art students. I've always gotten weak in the knees when I see good design work, and I was practically falling over looking at everything on the wall. The books that the design students came up with were also very well done, although my one point of criticism is that they were all bound in the same fashion. Not a particularly interesting form, but my guess is that all took the same basic bookbinding class and didn't venture beyond what they had learned there. Picky point, I know, but as someone who loves books and bindings, I would have loved to have seen more advanced work.

While there, I also perused the Biennial which I had shamefully not yet seen. I went in with high expectations, and I came out a bit disappointed. Not that it was bad, but I would have to say that most of the contemporary art was not my style. There were a few artists whose works I really enjoyed: Matthew Buckingham's One Side of Brooklyn montage; James Huckenpahler's digitally manipulated art; and John Lehr's photographs. In a brief recap of a brief recap, overall underwhelming, but with some works that are well worth the visit.

Much more impressive is the Corcoran's 2005 Print Portfolio. Again, this may be a personal preference issue, but I was quite impressed with the selections for the 2005 portfolio. The were some excellent etchings and lithographs that I would love to buy were I not poverty stricken. Ah well.

Bringing it all home...

For those who care, I just gave my official notice. 7 weeks and I'm gone. Again.

They know where my blog lives!

For your morning's entertainment, I will direct you to the fun thread surrounding my thoughts on the CPMC. You thought it was all done, but no! Apparently, my criticism really hit the hot button over there. One man, one blog, changing the world!

Sometimes I forget how pretty this city actually is, if you can find a way past the traffic and tourists. Last night I found myself down on the mall well after the museums had closed, and I'll be damned if it wasn't gorgeous! The Hirshhorn looked like the futuristic building as it was originally envisioned, rather than the concrete doughnut that it looks like during the day. The Smithsonian Castle and Arts and Industries buildings looked positively Victorian (or is it Georgian?) lit up by their street lamps. And standing in the middle of the mall, you could look to the Washington Monument and Lincoln Memorial without having to worry about being plowed over by a school group.


PS- I hope the drunk Small Business Association Conference attendee that I led to the Metro station safely made it home to Fairfax last night. I don't know how long the open bar was going at the Air and Space Museum for you guys last night, but I'm sure that you made your small business proud with your uncanny knack to put 'em back.

The Demons of Academia

The study of history is always a touchy subject. Many topics are deemed to boring for attention, while others are too controversial. As a requirement of my history major, I took a class on historiography, or historical theory. Basically this class addressed how historians address various "problems" in history, whether it be theories such as Marxism or feminism, or challenging topics such as the Holocaust. I will never forget reading Iris Chang's The Rape of Nanking with its horrific descriptions of the Japanese rape and pillage of the Chinese city of Nanking in 1937. To this day, it stands on my bookshelf as a reminder to how societies can agree to overlook the horrors that they inflict on one another, but how the survivors can not forget.

I miss a lot of things in life, but I don't know how I missed this last year. Six years after publishing on one of the most traumatic events in Eastern Asia, Iris Chang committed suicide. This is an interesting piece from the Times that I think does justice to her life and her life's work.

Yeah, and the blogger spell-checker blows too!

Once again, someone is taking action against the bad grammar in the world! No, not Jake, a person who actually counts in the grand scheme of things. Prof. Sandeep Krishnamurthy of the University of Washington is taking on Microsoft Word's grammar tools! Why would he possibly do this, you might ask yourself? Well, the tool lets in such acceptable sentences as "Marketing are bad for brand big and small. You Know What I am Saying? It is no wondering that advertisings are bad for company in America, Chicago and Germany." and gosh darn it, Sandeep thinks that is wrong.

As amusing as I may find the concept of attacking a digital grammar tool in this age of falling educational standards, I have to agree that the Microsoft grammar police do about as good a job correcting mistakes as a mildly illiterate fourth grader. Or your average Live Journal writer.

At least there's one good thing in Cleveland Park

Indique. Delicious.

For great, if slightly upscale, Indian food, Indique certainly challenges Heritage India for some of the best Indian food in DC. The Fletch had the lamb Biriyani, with its blend of basmati rice, herbs, raisins, and nuts. It was succulent and sweet without being overwhelming. The Pa' had the Chicken Appam, which is a fermented rice bread served with stewed chicken and vegetables. Tasty, and something to be considered for a future visit. The Ma' had some of the small plates (Dohkla and the Crab Tikki, neither of which were overwhelming) and the Bisque ala Indique (which was rich and creamy). The GF had the Chicken Chettinad which I didn't get to try (feel free to chime in), but she felt that they might have short changed her on the spice factor, considering that the dish was "not for the faint-hearted" and she had nary a tingle on her tongue.

Overall, an excellent place to go for a classy meal. Although, I think that I will have to try out a biriyani recipe at home to see if I can add this aromatic dish to the ol' repertoire.

Somedays, you just got to call it like you see it.

If you trust me to filter things for you, then please do not ever go to the Cleveland Park Men's Club Blog. I know that there is some inane crap in the blogiverse, but some shit just makes me queasy. In case you took my advice, here are some highlights (really, these are more like supporting points, rather than highlights, but the English language does not always contain the best conceptual phrases).

First of all, they have given themselves nicknames, like "The Mayor," "The Senator," "The Dean," "The Producer"... Shit, I wish I was so important that I could invent my own nickname that was prefaced with an article. Does The Fletch roll off the tongue?

Then they get rolling with the "good" stuff.

Capo’s decided that men in this city could use a bit of guidance, on matters of
male protocol and such. Too many goofballs are running around that have
forgotten, or worse, never even learned about the old school code of respect.

This "guidance" includes such important things as "DO: Re-rack your weights," "DON’T: Get in front of the mirror while someone is doing a set," "DON’T: Wear flip-flops," and "DO: Buy a cool pair of lightweight shoeneakers." Shoeneakers? WTF? I had to search on google, and I still don't know what they are talking about. Perhaps they meant sneakers? Perhaps they meant an athletic looking slide of some sort to fit in with their uber-masculine ways? Your guess is as good as mine. As for the gym advice, sweet man. As I type this, I am flexing in the mirror and kissing my guns. How do I do this, you may ask yourself? Well, that is why we all need a man-servant to do our bidding. What CPMC, you don't have a man servant?

One last piece to make you coming back for more

Seems like I wrote a little something that was a bit too heavy for the
folks in DC. Just for the record, I'm the serious one around here. Maybe it's
because my daddy taught me how to put a bullet in a deer right underneath the
shoulder blades at 250 yards out, fight a nurse shark until the blisters on your
hands start to break open, set the timing on a blown Chevy 454, and wire a house
from the ground up. Or maybe it's because my grandpop worked 50 years in a meat
locker to feed six kids, and cracked skulls on the side to makes ends meet.
Could just be the four years I spent running a chainsaw crew full of guys that
didn't make it past the seventh grade. Guys that could put the average college
punk right in his place with a simple "Shut your mouth, yah little bitch pussy,
before I come over there and skull-fuck yah pretty-boy ass."

That's right, and now you live in Cleveland Park. Looks like not everything is genetic. Oh yeah, and you left out hump goats, stone heretics, and master the use of fire. Good job college boy.

The Great State of Texas Is Gonna' Pay Your Rent

A long weekend in Austin certainly made me feel a lot better about going to grad school in the fall. A quick recap of lesson learned this weekend.

1. There are a lot of cute neighborhoods filled with funky shops and good, cheap restaurants. Hyde Park, Clarksville, South Austin... I really don't know how I going to figure out where to live.

2. It was 85 degrees down there, while this city was suffering a late spring cold spell. I need more shorts and fewer pants. Cut-offs anyone?

3. Despite the fact that Austin was named the 9th best city in the country for walking, no one seems to do it. The car culture is very much ingrained in the minds of the locals. On the upside, there seems to be a great bus system, so maybe I won't have to roll in the Echo too often.

4. A lot of things reminded me of Santa Cruz: outrageously friendly people, everything being outdoors, great Mexican food...

5. I may very well be the only male in my program. Take that as you will.

Back to the grind for a little while longer.

Classy or Trashy?

Springtime in DC, cherry blossoms blooming, birds chirping, 18 year-old tourists wearing short skirts, does it get any better? Well, yes, it does. Springtime is not only the season of rampant hormonal mating, but it also brings horse-racing and the Triple-Crown (sorry, the corporate whore Visa Triple Crown) to the masses. As always, we have two great and very different races in the DC Area.

The more publicized event has to the Preakness Stakes. This massive orgy of beer and horses at the Pimlico racetrack in B-more means that all the state-schoolers pile into the infield to flood their systems with cheap beers as the egg on their rival schools to see who's women have the nicer breasts. As judged by the 50,000 other people in the infield.

The lesser known, but equally fun Virginia's Gold Cup brings it at a whole different level. This oh-so-classy event is for the pink shirt-blazer or seer-sucker suit crowd. Mint Juleps, straight bourbon, and wine the entire day. The race itself is a steeplechase field event, so instead of running in small circles, the horses trot around a big field jumping over things. There is much falling down to the delight of the tipsy crowd.

Two years ago, I went to Preakness and got my drink on there, but last year, I was able to use the native connections to score an all access pass to the Gold Cup, including a ticket to the after party, where I was able to get down with the owners, the jockeys, and the Navy Seals who had parachuted in as part of the celebration. This year I am really struggling with my options. Do I go upscale again or do I just throw down to the Preakness rules of "no liquor, no bottles. Kegs? Are those glass?". Sometimes life is so hard.

RFK, thou art beauteous to behold

I went to my first Nats game last night, a nice victory over NL East foe Atlanta. I have to say that if every night at RFK is as nice as last night, I could see myself spending a lot of time watching the new home team this spring. It was a snap getting there right after work (although, I would suggest bringing some food and beers to tailgate before hand). We splurged for the $10 seats in right field and I'd say it was probably worth the three extra dollars. Not that you couldn't just sneak up, but...

Food and beer was of course over-priced (chicken tenders and fries $8.50, hot dog $4, Italian sausage $5.50, miller, bud, coors $5, blue moon $6.50) But really, thirty bucks for a ticket some food and a couple of beers? Not too shabby. And if the Nats keep on winning it'll be that much sweeter.

Going back to RFK was a memory filled experience. Many of my earliest sports memories came from watching the Redskins take the field in the fall. I even saw one of my first baseball games at RFK, during a spring exhibition game featuring none other than the Montreal Expos. I was sad to notice that they took down the ring of heroes, or whatever they call the DC sports hall-of-fame, even the few Senators who managed to sneak up between the Redskin greats, but hopefully they will find their way to the new stadium, cause its not like Dan Snyder bought those names, right?

As always, leaving the stadium is a giant pain in the ass, and the crowds mob the Stadium/Armory Station like it is their only chance at survival. I decided to make the walk to Union Station, and I have to say that it was a very pleasant 25 minute stroll. Of course if morons keep falling over the railings, the Orange line might be our only hope.

Keep your fat, bigoted fingers off of my home

Not only is national representation out of the question, apparently home-rule only stands if we follow the bigoted path of the Republican Congress. That's right, duly elected officials from other places feel that they have the right to interfere with how the District is run.

Toulouse-Lautrec at the National Gallery

As someone who is not a huge fan of Toulouse-Lautrec, I found myself quite surprised at how much I liked the exhibition at the National Gallery. Room after room was filled with vibrant images of life in the bohemian world of Montmartre, breathing life into a time that is almost century past. I won't do any sort of serious critiquing of the art itself, or it selection, but I will say that it is a very fun exhibit. The wall cards drill home some basic points about how the artists were rebelling against the conservative Third Republic and how they were all drinking absinthe, but almost nothing can take away from the lively nature of the art itself.

Just be warned, on Sunday morning, the exhibition was packed to the gills. So if you are a person who likes to enjoy art in a peaceful manner, I would suggest trying to find time in the middle of the week.

Enough for now. The giffer is spouting crazy-talk about marriage and moving, and I will go bang my head against a wall.

I'm a Male Model, Not a Male Prostitute!

Bring out yer b-boys! Handsome Boy Modeling School is in town. Well, to be fair, they were here last night. From what I could tell, despite their best efforts to get their entourage laid, they were leaving the city well before dawn. Not that the boys couldn't get the hook-up, just that it had to be in the bathroom at the 9:30 Club.

Let me start out by saying that last night was the most diverse crowd I've seen at the 9:30 since the Roots in, like '99. Not that I make it to many hip-hop shows any more. And not that the crowd was representative of the Chocolate City, but sometimes you take what you can get. Oh, and to the tall ass mo-fo next to me, yeah, it was real dope that you knew all the words to the songs. The fact that you could even pump your fists at exactly the moment of emphasis really made me question my own status as a fan.

As for the show, eh. I believe that I've said it before, Sunday night shows are brutal. I hope I don't go to another one any time soon. The crowd was lethargic, and the start and stop rhythm of song-skit-song-skit-song wore on me. Don't get me wrong, Prince Paul and Dan the Automator were solid and entertaining, but with a group whose albums rely so heavily on guest vocalists, its got to be difficult to pull the big names on tour.

The highlight of the night was clearly Dres from Black Sheep. You know, Black Sheep. Yes, you do. Engine, engine number nine on the New York Transit line. If the train goes off the track...pick it up...pick it up...pick it up! Well, if you don't remember, then you are like half the audience last night. If you do remember, well, you probably would have been singing along, while wondering how in the hell you remembered all of these lyrics from 1991.

Oh, and if you have any qualms with sexual objectification to the point of misogyny, I would suggest not going. There was a whole lot of titty appreciation happening on stage.

and the rich get...more trees?

This city never ceases to amaze me. I have dinner at my folks places (in the Palisades) on Sunday night, and what do I find on their already shady street? Six freshly planted trees. I look over to the next block, and I can spot at least three more! My mother says that she woke up one morning and they were there. No notice, no signs, hell, no noise. Then the next day, some tree guy comes around and waters them. Apparently, this is all paid for by the city (the Mom thinks that it was some sort of grant given to the city), but come on, does "the nicest place to live in Washington" really need more trees? I can easily think of a few empty tree boxes in C-Heights that could use some tender, lovin' care.

I can't even object that strongly to the plantings, because I think that it is a great thing that the city is planting trees and making sure that DC stays green. But I don't know how one can look at this and not just say, there the mayor goes again, making sure that the rich, white folk get theirs while everyone else sits and waits. Do I think that we're ever going to get nice little hawthorne trees in my neck of the woods? Shit no! If we're lucky, we'll get someone to pick up our recycling finally.

'Cause its a little piece of genius

DCeiver's got his hands on a new script. Critical acclaim from this corner has labeled it "Riotous, lol funny stretching to Rothfl! A must read for the kids!"

You know that friend who comes into town without giving a heads-up and then calls and expects you to be free?

Yup, Joey's in town. For those who care, it sounds like more foot surgery. I'll see this weekend if anyone wants to know more.

Religious Persecution? Where?

Apparently we liberal are out for the blood of christians. Senator Bill "No seriously, I am not a fascist" First is going to appear on Sunday in an evangelical telecast claiming that the Democrats are against people of faith. I don't even know what this means, do Democrats persecute anybody who believes in anything? Trekkies beware! I will however assume that the Dems are persecuting every bible-thumping Jesus-freak out there, stopping them from praying, telling their children that there is no God, shooting the Easter bunny, etc.

The bigoted hate-mongering president of the Family Research Council claims that "For years activist courts, aided by liberal interest groups like the A.C.L.U., have been quietly working under the veil of the judiciary, like thieves in the night, to rob us of our Christian heritage and our religious freedoms." Really? The Dems are stopping you from worshiping at the alter of the one true and holy G.O.D.? I had no idea! I thought that they were just reading the part of the Constitution that says "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof," and realizing that we can't impose our Christian beliefs on anyone who may hold others truths to be self-evident. To think that those vicious thugs at the ACLU have been forcing God-fearing Christians to convert to Buddhism! How wrong! Lets burn them at the stake like we did those witches up in Salem!

Because You're a Useless Sack of Crap

Our President:

President Bush said yesterday that he was surprised by his administration's
plans to require U.S. citizens to show a passport when reentering the country
from Mexico, Canada and the Caribbean, and he ordered an administration review
of whether the entry rules should be relaxed.

"When I first read that in the newspaper about the need to have passports,
particularly the day crossings that take place, about a million for instance in
the state of Texas, I said, 'What's going on here?' "

Hm, maybe you should pull your head out of your ass and figure out what your administration is doing. I guess this is what happens when you care more about jogging than doing your job as the elected head of the only superpower in the world. Do you think that he just doesn't know that there are poor people either?

Phuck You Philly!

Fighting through all the Nats hype, it turns out the Philly pretty boy T.O. is, that's right, turning out to be a little bitch. Oh, don't like you contract, just threaten to hold out. Of course TO says "This is not about me being greedy or selfish." I'm sorry, aren't you saying that you need more money? Isn't that greed?

Philadelphia, after all of your celebrating last year when you signed T.O., you get no pity now that he's turned on you. Hmmm, kind of reminds you of what he was like in San Fran...

Natties Hot!

Vinny Castilla just hit the first homer in front of the District crowd!!! (Castilla's only a single away from the cycle!)

I am wearing my Natties cap

Well, I couldn't make it to today's home opener, but I am doing the next most American thing, listening to it on the radio. They just scored their first runs in the new home field, and I'm loving it. I can't wait to wake to wake up to a headline reading "Natties Light up the Giants" or "Natties Ice the Yanks." If only this damn art history class would go come as easily as those fake headlines.

We're all safer now.

I'm sorry, but whay did they wait for Crime Victims Rights Week to round up all these criminals? Is the rest of the year Criminals Roam Free Week?

Sometimes the privilege shines through

In my planning for my new life as a lazy graduate student on heading down to my new school, I have come across one of those little questions that just won't leave my brain. If you hate random meaningless crap that clutters other peoples' heads in moments of boredom, leave now. If not, I would love to hear your thoughts.

I have a car. Its like a clown car only its not. Right now, I have no decorative elements on my car. It is just a car. I do however have three window decals from institutions that I have attended just sitting in my glove compartment, waiting for their day to shine. Soon I will have a fourth. As I sit here in my cubicle, I have been trying to imagine how I would fit all of these on my rear-view window. I mean, four decals is a lot of pretensiousness to be slapped onto a car (and yet, only the prep school and the Bachelor's are pretentious. The transfer undergrad and future grad school are respectable public institutions). At what point to I just say forget it? The giffer thinks that prep school is the first one to go. I sort of agree, but as I get further and further from high school, only the fonder memories remain. Drop Santa Cruz? I don't know, I still describe that as the best year of my life, besides, I think that decal alone eliminates any claims of elitism. Wes? Got to stay, right? Texas? Well, do I have to attend for a certain period of time before I can put the decal on?

I am such an education whore. Don't even let me get started on the Montgomery College parking permit....

diePod DJ Night

I was glad to see that Saint Ex.'s iPod DJ Night had picked up a bigger crowd last night. Maybe the press is bringing in the numbers, who knows. I was happy that I got there before the rush and could grab a table for some friends (I noticed that the DCist/Blue State Blogger crew had already holed up in the corner). As the people streamed in, it was definitely a different crowd than when I last made it in February. Nothing wrong with that, except the Button Down and Urbane Outfitters-Hipster crowd drowned out the music with their inane chatter. Sweet.

Just a sampling of what I got to overhear from the pretentious and yet moronic gentleman next to me:

Dude: Really, it was a good thing that the Dark Ages happened. I mean, look at all of the advances in war that have happened in the past four hundred years! If there hadn't been that thousand year period where there were no technological advances at all, they would have, like, invented the A-bomb so long ago and we'd be totally fucked. Drivel, drivel, drivel...

Dude's Friend:...(He may not have spoken the entire time they were sitting next to me. Seriously.)

I don't even know where to start on this boorish crap. First of all, he's misrepresenting history worse than ol' Georgey-boy misrepresented the Iraq's weapons capabilities. (For those who care, the Dark Ages were so named during the 18th century when people who believed that God had created the world in six days thought that civilization had completely collapsed after the fall of the Roman Empire. They have since been proved wrong on all points.) Second, you're in a bar, yes, and admittedly fashionable and hip bar, but you don't need to impress anyone with your grasp of second-grade world history. Hit on some chicks, or if I may be so bold as to guess, hit on some dudes. There was at least one guy in the crowd sporting a Guerilla Queer Bar bag, try him out. Third, don't shout over the music. Some of us are there to hear the music, you clearly would be much better off sitting at the upstairs bar, where your inane conversation could continue without bothering me.

In short, I doubt that I will be making it to future iPod DJ nights in DC. No that my time is that precious, but this man's only got two more months, and I'd rather spend it not being annoyed by the annoying masses.

And for the record, the $6.75 that I spent on a Hennepin could have been much more equitably split on three forties and a tall-boy can of Steel Reserve. Seriously, in a blind taste-test, I would not be able to tell the two apart. I guess that they both have that "warming mix of spicy gingersnap and citrusy hops" that Hennepin brags about.

Hungry? Grab a Twinkie Lard-Ass

That's right 75 years of making Americans fatter. Let's celebrate! Not that I shy away from twinkies on purpose (oh wait, I haven't had one in a long, long time. I'd tell you how long, but I honestly can't remember, which means its been longer than the last time I ate at Fatdonalds).

I might have to make an exception for my arrival in Chi-town because
The Twinkie factory is still in Chicago, which also happens to be the American city with the highest per capita consumption of Twinkies. Chicagoans who want their Twinkies gussied up can go to comfort-food restaurant Kitsch'n for Twinkie Tiramisu. Or they can get a fat infusion at hot dog shop Swank Frank, which sells those state fair favorites, deep-fried Twinkies.

Oh, and incase you ever had doubts about twinkie freshness
In reality, Twinkies' shelf life is more like 25 days, says Theresa Cogswell, who calls herself the Twinkie guru and is vice president for research and development at Interstate Bakeries Corp., the parent company of Hostess. She admits she got a good laugh out of the 30-year-old Twinkie story but says she wouldn't want to eat one quite that old. "You can eat older Twinkies, but they're just not as good as when they're fresh. Then they're awesome." That's right, awesome.

I think that its just hard to make snarky commentary when all you want to do is roll around in the grass outside.

But for those of you who need to look at something, here is DCSOB's take on Washington's Most Loathsome People. Not to be critical of blogs that I generally like, but Adrian Fenty as #1??!! WTF dude, WTF. I know that all we have are B-list celebs rolling around this town, but please. He's a city councilman for christ's sake. You could pick a person at random from K St. and you'd have house odds that they would be loathsome. That being said, I didn't pull a list together of my own, so I should shut the fuck up. Or maybe I shouldn't curse so much.

It's hard to blog when its so damn nice out.

Ah, springtime. Every year it catches me by surprise after the long months of wintry misery. This past weekend was an amazing showing of why DC is a worthwhile place to call home. Sure California has weather like this 9 out of 10 days, and yeah, in New England the extended length of winter makes you appreciate the arrival of spring that much more. But come on, we get a long spring that actually signals a change in seasons, the best of both worlds.

Yes, it means tourist hell, but if you treat the mall like its got the herp, then you can usually escape without seeing too many pasty white legs in all-too short shorts. In fact, this is actually a good time to make it outside the Beltway to see spring time blooming in other parts of the area.

If you are short on time, Sugarloaf Mountain is less than an hour away. And if the wind is blowing just right, all the smog get blown into the VA and you can catch glimpses of the ex-urban sprawl. Another personal favorite hike is the Billy Goat Trail at Great Falls in MD, or hiking along The Virginian side for those who can brave the South.

Right now, I'd blather on about weekend trip to the Shenandoah or Assateague, but most of you are smart enough to plan a trip yourself. Go. Enjoy.

Lost in the Supermarket

How does one select his toothpaste? Really, I had to replace a tube of whatever (Aquafresh) last night, and I spent five minutes staring at all of the selections. Do most people have a go-to brand? Say the one that their parents always used? Am I missing out, does one minty paste taste better than another? Sometimes these questions plague me, although I feel bad for the woman who was having trouble deciding which type of adult diaper to buy.

And for the record, I bought the major brand that was on sale. Paste, not gel.

Crap. More Bodies.

Courtesy of my neighbor(?) the Rock Creek Rambler, I have learned that the gentrifiers are digging up bodies on my block. Sweet. I loooove dead things. Now its not just random gunshots that I need to fear.

Attending A Professional Gathering Does Not A Professional Make

Being the dork that I am (sorry for all you anonymous readers out there who have been misled by my attendance at hip concerts), I went to the monthly talk presented by the Washington Conservation Guild. The talk was on the technique of fore-edge painting on books, given by the renowned English master, Martin Frost. A quirky guy and a quirky niche of art, but really no one but me cares to hear about it.

What I was really thinking about during the lecture was 1. how young a I felt and 2. how male I felt. The first thought was prompted by a friend's musings on aging as a young person. In a room filled with professional conservators, I felt vaguely out of place because of my relative youth. Not that it was an old crowd by most standards, but even being surrounded by 30 year olds can make one self-conscious. The added fact that everyone there who I recognized was a major name in their field didn't help either.

Fears of age-bias aside, I couldn't help but contemplate the vast gender imbalance in the room. Sure, I was a man, the speaker was a man, the guy who runs the Hillwood Estate (very nice by the by, a great place to take a date on a sunny Sunday) was a man, but out of the other thirty or forty people, there were only two other guys. Now that will make a person self-conscious. Of course this is not the first time that the my side has lost the battle of the sexes in professional settings. In fact, I don't think that I have ever been to a professional gathering at which there were more men than women, and as a dude I find that very unusual (I was going to write unsettling, but that simply isn't true). Chew on that thought.

In the end, I escaped without embarrassing myself in front of my peers (um can you actually call them peers if they are forty years older than you with resumes to put you to shame?). And that's what counts.

What, the Pope is less important than Reagan?

That's right, the man is letting off any good Catholic who has some vacation time. I mean, if they don't give me the whole week off, how am I going to see the Pope's decaying body in person?

-On a side note, how long are the flag's going to be at half-mast? A week? A month? Until the Christian Coalition is placed on a boat bound for Golgotha?

Back to things that matter.

Did you see the Nats win last night!? I didn't. It was my brithday. But hey, it sounds like they looked pretty good. And Brad Wilkerson hit for the cycle. Nice. Setting all sorts of marks in the new city. Make us proud Natties, make us proud.

I'm still waiting.

Conservatives, I'd love to hear that apology of yours (especially you right-wing bloggers). What, you accuse the Dems of dirty tricks with a false memo, but then when it turns out that its one of your own...nothing. Thats right, only sheer hypocrisy and political grandstanding can come out of the Greedy Old Party. Craptacular.

I Am Going To Watch It, Vomit, And Watch It Again.

Britney TV! Really can it get more compelling? Britney her hubby and me!

"I don't think there's anything sugarcoated about this," Dawn Ostroff(the UPN
chief) told Variety, adding: "It's pretty raw and pretty real. I don't think
[viewers] have ever been exposed to people being so honest and open about their
lives."

Wow, I am , like, disgusted already!

A Little Jig With My Mocha?

So, Big Daddy Sludgebucks is tossing its beans behind a new band. That's right, swollen on the success of the late,great Ray Charles, Sludgebucks is going to try to inject some inane music into its teenagers and soccer moms grande lattes. I guess that for $13 they figure you only have to cut 3 crappuccinos out of your Monday binge.

Hook 'em horns!

So, for the five people who actually know the man behind the blog, I have been accepted into the University of Texas' School of Information Studies' Conservation Program! So big news. As the quicker ones among you have realized by now, that means that I will be living in Austin. Yes Texas. For the next two-three years. Start making your plans to visit. In the meanwhile, I will be road-trippin' all summer, so if you have suggestions for places to visit/people's houses to stay at, be sure to hit up the comments box.

On the Home Front

After a very pleasant two weeks in Palisades, I triumphantly returned to my proper place in life. Oh, and its like the drama has never stopped. I only saw one housemate last night, but it sounds like we are going to be in for a rollercoaster of a spring. Sweetness. And now I can't forget that I ran into some random dude in my kitchen this morning (so who's getting lucky, huh?), who has a key to my house. Ah spring hormones are in the air!

-And the folks on DCist are getting in the mix about the gentrification of Wonderland. Look, has it gotten a bunch of press? Yes. Have they raised their prices? Yes. Do they now stock a broader selections of beer on tap to meet the needs of their increasingly fashionable clientele? Yes. Can I now sit at an empty bar and drink PBR while declaring myself on the cutting edge of the DC bar scene? Ummmm, maybe?

Look, its not like the bar has turned into Tomtoms or the Reef. Yes, people are now coming from beyond C-heights to drink at Wonderland, but is it a bad thing that the bar in bumping on Friday and Saturday nights? Sure, they may not all be hipsters anymore, but if you want hipsters, you're in the wrong city; go to Brooklyn. Shit, maybe after my B-day dinner on Wednesday I'll swing by Wonderland to see if their live music showcase draws more than the ten folks it had last time.

The Waiting Game

Today at 10AM it will have been exactly a "couple of weeks" since my graduate school interview. The wait has been driving me crazy. At points, I have been reduced to a stressed out blubbering mess. Even when I am not thinking about it, I am a tense ball of nerves. Make this agony stop.

At least I am not dead. Like these people: the Pope, Johnny Cochran, Terri Schiavo, and Frank Perdue. Looking at it that way, I have no reason to complain.

Smithsonian Kite Festival Postponed

Being on the inside pays off some days. The great forecasters of the Smithsonian have assured us that it will in fact be pouring tomorrow. So that means that the great Kite Festival will be held on Sunday instead of Saturday.

This is an inside joke.

Britt, this is for you, cause you might not be on the A-list.

Papist Ramblings

So the Pope is about to croak. Needless to say, its a sad day for all us Papists. Even the ones who don't really count. (Oh, I'm going to hell you say?) As this story eclipses Schiavo and the impending crisis in social security, I started to wonder how the Pope selects his name. Yeah, yeah, I know about the conclave of the Cardinals and the smoke and all that, but how does he choose his name?

Looking over the list of Popes you can see that we've gotten some pretty lame names recently. A whole bunch of John, Paul, John Paul, Pius, Benedict, Gregory, and not much else. If we're going to stick with historical precedents, could the new guy go with a little more flair? Like Cletus? Too Arkansas for ya, try Hyginus. Too smelly, how about Hormisdas? Yeah, Hormisdas II. Now that is a Pope's name.

But really, we are in the modern era, why should we be restricted to traditional names? Especially considering the fact that the next pope is likely to be either Hispanic or African. How about Pablo the First or Mwanajuma I?

Think that the Church is losing its appeal to young people? Why not try some cross-marketing like Pope Starbucks I? Think that the US of A needs stronger appeal among the Catholic world, we could fill the coffers of the Vatican and have ourselves Pope America the Great I. Not too shabby, eh?

Some things have to stay the same, for old times sake. Like the fact that "the election of a heretic, schismatic, or female would be null and void" (from here). Hmmm, maybe Bigotus I would be a more accurate name.

First Friday!

Well, its springtime, so I can't buy an excuse not to head to Dupont after work to check out the First Friday Gallery Openings. Hopefully the rain will hold off (and the tourists too) so that I can make my way through the galleries and check out the offerings.

Lenny over at DCArtNews suggests Maria Friberg's exhibition at Conner Contemporary, Laura Fayer at JET Artworks, William T. Wiley at Marsha Mateyka, Maxine Cable's room installations at Gallery 10 and Gabriel Jules at Washington Printmakers. And who am I to disagree? I always enjoy Washington Printmakers, so I'll be there for sure.

Maybe if I have enough free wine from Best Cellars, I'll even do some reviewing.

Kotobuki

Last night I hit up Kotobuki for sushi, and I've got to say that its the best sushi that I have had in a while. Certainly at the price of only $1 a pop.

Inside this tiny second story restaurant (only seating for 24), they were serving up fresh fish to make me happy. If you come looking for something besides sushi, you'll be out of luck. The menu is very limited, but what they have, they apparently do very well.

Kotobuki spartan interior won't impress your date, but if you want good sushi without the crowds, I can't think of a better place.

4822 MacArthur Blvd., NW, 2nd Floor
Washington, DC 20007
(202)-625-9080