In the District

Old Town Alexandria, D.C. suburb

I lived in Alexandria, VA, a suburb just outside of Washington D.C. for almost six years. I have not thought to write on living in the District because my attachment to it as a city was biased by my attachment to it as a home. When I lived here previously, it was excruciating. The traffic, the east coast personality disorders, and the excessively humid weather, all, over-shadowed anything great about this city (as a resident).
It was easy to overlook the amazing food which represents every continent. The number of languages overheard on the bus, or at the airport. D.C. is amazing. Let's not even get started on the museums and history. The architecture and urban development, which outline city streets, and make no sense to city planners or inhabitants in this day and age, are amazing when understood. The conflict of the structure and culture of this city is actually what makes it so amazing.

Since I have been back, I notice all the great things visitors think of when they come to the area. Washington D.C. and it's outlying suburbs reveal themselves as a mecca of international influence and sublime intellect.

Always on the "must-see"list for visitors

The monuments and museums are clearly at the top of the list to engage any world traveler. The White house and the Capital building are probably two of the most visited political structures in the downtown area. These symbols of modern democracy summon visitors from all over the world. Our international neighbors need to visually assess the power of this young nation, along with the marks of our great leaders, such as the Lincoln Memorial, and other famous monuments which have been placed strategically in the area of the Presidential grounds. These monuments, capital buildings and sculptures all represent the history and pride of the entire country of the United States.
There has also, always been rumor of Illuminati representation by the placement of some monuments and the symbolism weaved within their stones. If you stand at the Lincoln Memorial, the distance between the Jefferson Memorial and the National Mall form a perfect triangle. There are websites dedicated to the secret symbols of the Memorials. Unknown to me if this represents anything else other than perfect concepts of space, time and architecture. Still, interesting.

The university areas offer a vibrant energy driven city that keeps it youthful amidst the ever changing political climate. Generally represented by a stiff, American standard, having the young influx of ideas and energy truly keeps the city potent.

Howard University, the most prestigious(and popular) HBCU in the country is located right in the heart of the District. George Washington, American and Georgetown are also located in the center of D.C. and the level of international appeal for all these universities encourages the diverse population which makes up the greater mix of people and representation of all.

Many tourists visit D.C. to see the cherry blossoms (seasonally), which were a gift from the Japanese, after a war torn era, and still represent healing between two nations. Ideally, the blooms of a mending friendship. The District is underrated in the beauty it exudes and the many other features the city has to offer. The food, the attractions, the art and music are simply undervalued.

I got to experience the Spy Museum with my son who had no idea a museum could be so fun. My daughter and I got to view a special Rock and Roll - History of Music exhibit at the National Portrait Museum. A really special experience in itself, but also a reminder of other National Portrait Museum visits all over the world. The international appeal of the District is engaging and sophisticated.

The famous sculpture of the distressed giant, "The Awakening," which seems to rise from the underworld, I originally experienced at Hains Point. It has since been moved to National Harbor between the D.C. and Baltimore area. Yet, these types of art experiences have been crucial in introducing me to all aspects of art and history here in the D.C. area. I have so many memories stemming from different trips here. D.C. has become one of my most respected cities of the States even though my preference is living anywhere else.

My first fancy meal was here with a well known businessman, in the 80's.
One of my first live music shows was here in the 90's.
One of my first acting jobs - D.C.
I gave a special gift of NBA basketball tickets to a special guy and got to experience one of my first professional sporting events right in the center of China Town.
Breweries, speakeasy's, fantastic culinary delights - you can literally find everything and anything you want in this intimate, self designed, and beautifully diverse city.


This last trip to the D.C. area, I needed to see the Spite House.

The Spite House, Queen St. Alexandria

This house, originally built to keep trespassers and vagrants out of the owner's alley...now famous for the ingenuity and quaintness of it all. In all of our human pettiness, comes some semblance of creativity. Necessity is indeed the mother of invention. The house has been designated a National Historic Building by the Historic Alexandria Foundation. On my visit, there were other visitors, cruising by, taking photos, but the neighborhood was not amassed with tourists and sight-seers looking for something interesting. It is indeed a quaint remnant of history, still standing in contemporary society.
 
In the same area, I visited an old well known eatery run by a well known local woman chef, Jamie Leeds. Hank's Oyster Bar, named after her father, represents the industriousness and innovation of locals who want to build where they live. I have been here for oyster hour many times, but this trip was different. I appreciated the effort; the honor of running a local business in such a prestigious town. The work. The loyalty. The neighborhood.

I have been to every monument and experienced every culturally inspiring activity/ memento in the D.C. area, but that's not what it's all about.
It represents freedom. The freedom of this country, our constitution and life.

D.C. is the small piece of America that IS America.


“Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country.”
John F. Kennedy

Crazy and Crazy

I was on a bus from the Dulles airport to downtown D.C. this past week. There was a homeless woman on the bus as well. She had been working some of the tourists for bus fare prior to getting on the bus. Talking to herself and spouting comments to appear more outrageous than she was, in my opinion.
She boarded the bus, without enough fare, and proceeded to yell at the driver that she was looking for the fare and/or she would do whatever it was she had done last week to get on the bus. I did not really catch the entire conversation at this point because I realized she was simply a hustler and I don't bite.
But, as her luck would have it, a good looking Indian businessman boarded the bus (after her rant) and she appealed to his upperclass guilt, with doe eyes and a quiet, sad story (which I couldn't hear at this point, not because I wasn't trying, but because she had lowered her tone to evoke sympathy) and he gave her the couple dollars she was missing.
As we crossed into the city, the driver pointed out the Arlington cemetery, and the Pentagon, and  as he was giving directions to the Memorial and the White House, this "crazy" woman burst into song. The Nigerian national anthem. Void of any respect for those of us, he was speaking to on the bus, and void of any respect for the historical information he was volunteering about this, OUR, great nation's capital. This woman simply interrupted to redirect attention to herself and basically cockblock the impromptu tour he was giving the tourist (me) on the bus.
See, I spoke to the driver before I boarded. I told him I was traveling. He knew where I was going and that I needed direction, not only to my destination, but back to the bus to get back to the airport as well. So, his information was important to me personally, but she didn't know how many people on that bus wanted to hear what he had to say, she was simply being rude.
She assumed everyone would assume she was crazy. That is the conclusion people jump to when people do not follow the rules of society. Crazy. But, I know better. Hustler. Indignant, rude hustler. Pissed because she assumes she knows something about the Americans on this bus with her. The Americans that have money to dispense on frivolities, money to spend on this great life, money to throw away...so why shouldn't we give it to her? I'll tell you why. I have a big heart, and have no problem giving. What I have a problem with is those who take advantage.  She saw that businessman coming a mile away. She also saw me, and knew better. I don't play those games. Hustlers know what a mark looks like - this is why I knew she was a hustler. She chose whom to beg from. Hungry will ask everyone on the bus; everyone in the terminal for even just a quarter to get a bite to eat. Hustler's choose a mark to get as much as they can, and avoid those that will call them out.
So, I was already agitated by her presence. I hate people that take advantage of others. Get a fucking job...just like I did. Just like everyone else on that bus did.
On with the story...
As the bus driver was giving information on our nations capital, she began to sing. She intentionally sang over the words of the driver, and her loud rendition of the Nigerian national anthem was a vocal protest of this country. She could have been rude and chanted anything she wanted, but she wanted to prove a point and sing her country's national anthem. Again, fine, but if one is so inclined to overtalk someone to prove a point, ie "I have no respect for what you are saying, or your country", why don't you take your ass back to Nigeria? Sing it loud and sing it proud, but those of us who love this country and are not begging money off of other nationals would appreciate if you shut your mouth when you're talking at me.
Hustlers aren't crazy, they are leeches. Plain and simple.
And I'm not crazy enough to give you a red cent. Rude.