why it’s great to “rock the red”
[crossposted on pickmyNHLteam.com on December 31, 2009]
The Washington Capitals… up until a few years ago, locals and people across the country paid little attention to this talented team on the ice. Now, they’re the most discussed team in Washington, D.C., and they get mentions during NFL coverage of Washington Redskins games. Right now, the Caps are the hottest team in the city, and one of the hottest teams in the NHL. And there are a few reasons why this team deserves the love it gets… (in no specific order, mostly)
The Horn Guy: Consider him our personal cheerleader. Throughout the games, you hear “bwah bwah bwah” and it signals an immediate “LET’S GO CAPS!” from the entire crowd. Even if you are watching the game from home, you can hear Horn Guy on the broadcast, always cheering on the Caps at every home game, without disappointment.
The Franchise: The Washington Capitals have retired four numbers, to honor Rod Langway, Yvon Labre, Mike Gartner, and Dale Hunter. The Caps even have four Hall of Famers: Mike Gartner (2001), Rod Langway (2002), Larry Murphy (2004), and Scott Stevens (2007). While there may not be a Stanley Cup with the Washington Capitals name on it, the team has claimed an Eastern Conference Championship in 1997-98, and Division Championships in 1988-89, 1999-00, 2000-01, 2007-08, and 2008-09. The Washington Capitals organization also works with the AHL Hershey Bears (2008-09 Calder Cup Winners) and the ECHL South Carolina Stingrays (2008-09 Kelly Cup Winners). The depth of players in the organization is unreal, and the talent keeps getting stronger. About 1/3 of the current Caps roster played in Hershey before moving up to NHL play. We believe in our organization, and have faith in our rosters, and our fans support our franchise teams.
The Leadership: Under the leadership of owner Ted Leonsis, who blogs, tweets, and even offers his email to fans (and yes, answers them too), the Capitals have seen amazing success in the past few years. Combined with the General Manager George McPhee who has an eye for talent and making the budget and an often teddy-bearish and snarky Head Coach Bruce Boudreau (who was in Slapshot, just saying), the Caps have been able to continually climb in standings year after year and clinch the Southeast Division, and progress into the post-season. They’ve also increased the depth of talent in the farm teams by spotting great talent in the draft. The management and ownership is open and honest with the fans and makes themselves available to questioning. But, what is the best part of the leadership? It’s gotta be Boudreau’s one-liners in pressers and appearances on local commercials, where his comedic genius that he never got to show in Slapshot really shines.
The Fans: Fans show up and pack out the Verizon Center to “rock the red.” It’s a sight to be seen. Our fans are from all walks of life, from the city to the suburbs, from working on Capitol Hill to protesting Capitol Hill. And since it’s D.C., the best signs and t-shirts show up, showing that fans have truly made Washington, D.C. into a hockey town. Whether it’s a no-diving sign for the Pens game, a sign endorsing Bruce Boudreau for president, or even the terrible jersey fouls that PuckDaddy loves to point out, Caps fans get creative when it comes to games, especially the teams that fans love to hate: the Philadelphia Flyers, the New York Rangers, and the Pittsburgh Penguins. And the fans only lead into the next best part of being a Caps fan…
The Phonebooth: The Verizon Center, built by the late great Abe Pollin, is the most electric building in all of the NHL, and I’ve been to a few arenas (and even heard the National Anthem at the United Center). None of them compare. The energy in the Phonebooth is contagious. You’ll find yourself standing half of the game, hoarse after the game is over, and high-fiving and hugging your seatmates. (But sometimes, chances are, though, you’re a season ticket holder and you knew their names and phone numbers and they have called you before to see where you were and why you sold your tickets to whomever was in your seat one night.) In fact, last year, during the playoffs, NHL employee Mike DiLorenzo commented on Twitter during the Caps-Pens series during Game 5 in DC: "The top may come off this rink if the #caps brek [sic] thru. This is insane right now. #pens" It gets so loud in fact, you might as well just hit ignore on your phone, even during intermission, because there’s no point, you can’t hear anything on the other line.
The Wes Johnson: If you have to Google this guy, go ahead, and it’s worth every penny. Our arena announcer, Wes Johnson makes the games so incredibly exciting, and he’s a character during and after the games. The tone of his voice tells you exactly what you should know even if you don’t know what he’s saying. Wes Johnson, is in fact, the best arena announcer in all of the NHL. There’s nothing quite like hearing him announce a goal, and crediting it to various players. The Capitals would not be as exciting and as fun-filled without the voice of Wes Johnson.
The Location: The Washington Capitals are located in one of the greatest cities in the U.S.: Washington, D.C.! Outside of the Phonebooth are the country’s best museums and travel spots. Plus, whether you’re visiting or if you live in D.C., there is always something to do. The cultural aspects of the city are vast. From a plethora of food to music to the arts, even to sports, if you’re not at a hockey game, you’ve got plenty of things that can fill your time in the city. And, if that doesn’t excite you enough, you can always be on the lookout for the next spot the President will turn up, because he loves to dart in and out of the city.
Alexander the Gr8: Last, but not least, the Caps wouldn’t be the Caps without Ovi. As a Capitals fan, I learned one thing
really fast, people love to hate the Washington Capitals, and specifically Alexander Ovechkin. Actually, they love to hate him because he’s so good. He’s the most talented player of the league, scoring like no other player, taking in NHL honors left and right, and one of the most physical players on the ice, and he’s a forward. He’s essentially the face of the NHL, whether Gary Bettman likes it or not, and people flock to see him play in other NHL towns. He’s a star, he’s passionate, and he’s an entertainer that brings fans to the game, regardless of Don Cherry’s distaste. Oh, and ESPN will actually give him coverage.
So, the fans of the Washington Capitals ROCK THE RED with pride, because we know, without a doubt, that our boys will consistently play great hockey and stick up for their team. But much more than that, the organization cares for the team and its fans enough to create an incredible hockey family.
And just for good cheer, enjoy the "Caps Rap."
*All photos used in this post are my own, and cannot be used without permission.
is it october yet?
In the hockey off-season, fans do some incredible things. Some visit Montreal to go to the draft. Others join in UFA/RFA prediction contests (yes, I'm one, and I'm losing). Almost everyone goes nuts on July 1 on the opening of Free Agency (let the frenzy begin!).
What did I do? Apparently, I jumped ship in a strange, dramatic way. I moved to Alabama… quite possibly the most unrelated place to hockey. Down in Alabama, they worship college football 365 days a year, and attend football games more frequently than church. But, instead of joining the craze, which I do have a team from living here before, I still continued my love for hockey. Less than 2 weeks after I had returned, I met another hockey fan… and not just someone who knew about the Red Wings playing in the Stanley Cup. This guy had PLAYED hockey. Enter: the Goalie.
The Goalie is from Boston, making him a Bruins fan by nature, but an even bigger Red Sox fan. I kid with him all the time, but it's quite similar to the life of the move "Fever Pitch." He knows his players, their lives, and he gets sentimental when he's talking about Fenway Park. It's quite adorable. And while my team, the St. Louis Cardinals, lost to the Sox in 2004 in the World Series, I let him have his fervor for baseball… I just don't like to talk about that year… even if everyone in the entire country was cheering on the Sox. Probably even the Cardinals, just to break the streak.
We talk hockey smack all the time, and he's been amazed that I've followed the free agency. In fact, I've been sending him info since the trades began over text messages and phone calls. But, the worst news ever came a fews days ago when I found out about the opening game of the season for MY TEAM… the Capitals take on the Boston Bruins… in the Garden. This is gonna get interesting.
The Boston Bruins made a commercial about dating within hockey during their playoff run this past season. It's one of the funniest hockey commercials I've seen.
Luckily, the Caps AREN'T in the same division as the B's, but they are in the same conference, which also means that they can't play each other for the Stanley Cup. But, I'm getting ahead of myself…
Since the initial game of the season is both of our teams against each other, we thought we'd make a small bet. Pending the winner, the other has to face the humiliation. If the Caps win, the Goalie has to wear my old Caps jersey on a visit TO BOSTON. If the Bruins win, I have to wear one of his B's jerseys on a visit TO D.C. Either way, one of us is gonna look like an idiot. I'm just hoping since he's a funny guy that it's him, and not me. If I have to wear a B's jersey in D.C., it'll be on top of a burka. But, a bet is a bet, right?
So, with that… is it October yet??? Because I need a good Caps road win to start the season off right! 
UPDATE (8/11/2009): All bets are off.
a spot of tea
In the trend of the oldest child, I don't like to follow the mainstream at times. For the Fourth of July, and as a true historian, I was patriotic to the best of means (and not in redneck fashion). I spent the day with family, and watched "A Capitol Fourth" on PBS (where some of my government funds are best spent), and gazed into the HDTV as the fireworks exploded over the most amazing city I know: Washington, D.C. It was at that moment, upon hearing the fife and drum corps of the United States Army playing along before the National Symphony Orchestra pronounced the finale with the 1812 Overture, I felt the most patriotic I had in years. I remembered a line from the musical, "1776," when John Adams (Fee-hee-hee-heeeeny) sang about how fireworks would proclaim the birthday of the new nation that was hatching on the eve of July 4, 1776.
Of course, since I thought about the musical, days later (read: last night), I watched the movie form of it. I love how they portray the characters. Most people think they are being comical… but in historical memory and readings, it's hilarious that they are almost true to form. The playful Franklin, the uptight Adams, the thoughtful Jefferson, and of course New York who confounds us all. As soon as I finished "1776," I immediately sought out my "John Adams" series since I had Mr. Adams on the brain ("Mr. Adams, leave me aloooooone!"). And the rumblings of rebellion and murmurings of "taxation without representation" got me to thinking.
On the Fourth of July in Alabama, a small group of conservatives chose to gather to voice their opinions about taxation, and have what has been recently called "Tea Parties." Now, pardon me for just a second, if you will… pretend that you're one of those people, and maybe you are. I might like to ask you just a few questions. Do you have a representative in Congress? Can that representative speak on your districts behalf? Can your representative acquire funds for your district for road repairs and other various projects for your area and/or state? Now, my guess is that your answer to that is a yes to each of those questions, and if you were to say no, I'd challenge your answer.
These same people with refutable representatives, who ARE and have been elected by the people, DO represent the people of Alabama. However, the constituents of these elected officials are holding "tea parties" in which they claim they are being "taxed without representation." And WHY do they feel they are being taxed without representation? Because their party isn't in office.
Dear people of Alabama who don't understand this concept… let me tell you what it REALLY means. As a legal resident of the District of Columbia [yes, still... my license still states it], you should know that "taxation without representation" is not held lightly in the District. We place it on our license plates for a reason. It is the ONLY remaining area within the landlocked states that is YET to be declared a state, and has YET to be given a representative with VOTING rights on the house floor, and still has to ask Congress to do anything. We don't have a Governor, we have a Mayor… and that Mayor has very little power, since the President is just down the street. That Mayor is under the authority of the Vice President. Anything the Mayor wishes to do has to have the release of the VP and Congress. A million people live within a 6+ square mile area, and we are held to every federal tax that any other American is in the country. And yet in DC, residents also have to give way to anything federal, because it is first and foremost beyond any resident. So, fair Alabamian… if you really want to tell ME that you are taxed without representation because your party didn't get into office, be prepared for a lecture in American and DC history. Unless you've either lived in DC (or the colonies, and I'm pretty sure they've died off by now), don't you DARE tell me that you understand what it's like to be taxed unfairly. Until you can't call your congressperson and complain only to hear that person say they can't do anything because they can't speak on the floor, then get over it.
Also [if you've made it this far], should I remind you that the "Tea Party" in Boston in the colonial days were conjured up by yes, Patriots. But, in that day, they were considered liberals. They were against the ebb and flow. They were the ones strayed from the "right." So, please, for the love of history, don't destroy the beautiful imagery of what our founding father created only to saturate it with protests that don't get anything done. Children and teenagers these days need history that is passionate, and protests like the modern-day tea parties are nothing but a joke that makes history less poignant.
moving tweetlog
- While the CDT zone SAYS it's almost 11pm, my EDT zone body can feel the midnight and then some from the trip/packing.
- Destination reached (Birmingham). Beyond exhaustion. Considering a challenge to Rip Van Winkle's record…
- Music off. #pens / #canes game on XM until I get home.
- Who else has an Alabama song for me?? Unleash 'em. Hahaha.
in my own words
Last night I had to say an unplanned goodbye to my second home. Yes, the move had been planned for a while, but the journey was set to depart today. Instead, my family thought it best to leave last night and drive a few hours out to get a head start. I find myself both relieved and angered at the same time.
I wanted to make a last good walk through my apartment and glimpse through my neighborhood, the neighborhood that I have cherished while I lived in D.C. It's a struggling and redeveloping neighborhood, but it has so much potential. The beauty lies in the people. Instead, I had to quickly grab my cat, Zoe, and put her in the car so we could get on the road. I had one quick walk through while people were waiting on me outside.
I feel robbed of my chance to really get to say goodbye to Washington. I didn't get to see it out my rearview mirror as I had planned, as I had charted the route from Rock Creek Parkway down to the waterfront to catch I-66 out of town. At that time, I figured I'd be able to start mourning my losses… the history, the architecture, the anonymity of the city, but most of all, some of the most amazing people I've ever known. I was also so incredibly busy until the last minute that I didn't have time to spend with the people I cared about. Instead, I had to give quick hugs and goodbyes to the friends that helped me pack the truck as tears welled realizing that I had to hurry because we were standing in the street and time was passing and the clock was ticking.
On the other hand, there's a sigh of relief that comes with it. The last time I left Washington, I cried for 2 hours of the drive. Of course, I had just left SassyBlonde's house right before I left, which definitely didn't help matters. If you know me, you know that I don't like goodbyes… which really means that I don't like to let anyone see me cry. Having to actually admit that I may not see someone again is so painful. It's why I usually make clean breaks and just move without the hurrahs and go. Then, if you see them again, it's great. If not, you always have the memories. But, usually someone is mad at me because I left without saying goodbye. But then I just have to continually explain that I don't like goodbyes. So, there's relief in the fact that while I was robbed of the goodbye, I didn't have time to actually process it.
Of course, today as I drive, I'll probably think of everything that I'm leaving behind and bawl like a baby, as I'll finally have some rest and start processing it. But, so far, that opportunity has been taken from me, since my family, who had 2 of the 3 vehicles in the caravan got the majority of the votes.
If I didn't get to see you before I left, please know that you are near and dear to me still. Washington and the people that I associate with the city, those friends that I accumulated there, will always be a part of my heart. I'm touched by your generosity and offers to help pack and load my truck, by hanging out, by simply showing up. I'm also thankful for the kind notes and thoughts for safe travels and even the sarcasm about Alabama not having the interwebs.
No worries… I'll still be around. I'm sure you've got my contact info. If not, it's on the main site page, and you can find me somehow, whether on Facebook, Twitter, or email. Some of you even have my cell, so ring it on up! I will see your D.C. faces very soon, I hope! And when I come in, you should sound the horns.
P.S. Driving in a multi-car caravan SUCKS.
the time has come
And so it is, just like you said it would be… life goes easy on me, most of the time. -Damien Rice
Except now. Now, I’m in the end of a chapter, one which some know, and one which some don’t, but one which is now going public for all to know.
A few weeks ago, I made the decision to return to Alabama to work on my Master’s Degree, which is only 12 hours shy of completion. I had high hopes of finishing it in Washington, D.C., because it is a city that I love so much, but things never worked toward my favor. It was a difficult decision to make, but one that I feel is the best in my situation. I’m going to work with one of the best urban historians in the country, and with great hopes, I’ll be headed toward an amazing doctoral program in the fall of 2010. I move the Friday of Memorial Day weekend.
The hardest part of all of this is leaving behind some of the people that are so near and dear to me. My neighborhood that I love: the CVS with the snazzy pharmacist, the bodega, the restaurants, the stoops where politics are discussed. The public transit that is so accessible, which continually ran me late for work because I had to transfer twice just to get to work, even though I live and work in D.C. My beloved Capitals… man, what do I say about a team that I have followed so passionately with all of my heart and soul, and now I have to leave behind to go to a city without hockey (blasphemous, I know!)?
To my dear friends that I have always had here before and always: you are amazing, and I thank you for your continual friendship. You’ve held me steady in hard times and kept me strong when I couldn’t think to hold my head up. You have kept me here as long as I have been here… it’s been a rough ride this time through… and you know the story.
To my hockey tweeps: It’s amazing that in just a month or more, I could create an incredible bond with such phenomenal people. Through wins and losses, you have shown me what it means to be loyal, truly loyal (and that’s saying something to a southern gal!). You have no idea how much I will miss you and our tweetups at Old Dominion. It seems my life will be somewhat incomplete without you, since you’ve been such a part of it for the last month during playoffs.
To my Alabama friends, that’s right, you heard it, I’m coming home for a while… Cue “Sweet Home Alabama.” It will be good to see you.
But, don’t worry… I will be up to D.C. to visit, you can rest assured of that! J And when hockey season rolls around, I’ll be up for some games. And to play tourist in general at other times. This city is my second home. I love it so much, and it was so difficult to make the decision to leave.
So, be gentle with me for a while. I’ve been fragile for quite some time with the decision, and I will be for some time yet. I go with some mixed emotions, but I am excited about school, hopeful for the future, and also hopeful that our paths continue to cross.
upended
Today is an extraordinary day in history. On April 4, 1968, social activist Martin Luther King, Jr. lost his life for the cause of civil rights and injustice. Just as he was leaving his room at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee, he stopped to speak from the second-floor balcony to the crowd gathered. Moments later, a bullet shot from the gun of James Earl Ray into King's neck sparked a new unexpected dimension to the 1960s.
The previous day, King had given one of the most captivating speeches of his life, known now as the "Mountaintop" speech (Part 1 & Part 2), which had peculiar timing according to his advisors at the time. King spoke as if this time in his life was his peak, and that he had seen all the he could do. The speech itself, incredible, has King giving both his humor and his seriousness. It's perplexing to listen to on the other side of history, as if he knew that his death was upon him. As the recounting of his travels and his time in the movement and the talk of threats that were coming toward King continued to rally those gathered to listen on April 3, the actions of James Earl Ray on April 4 brought forth reactions to a divided country that took decades to heal, and in some areas, they still have not mended. As news broke of King's death on radio and through news outlets and by word of mouth, mourning began throughout the country. But far worse, riots broke out, and people lashed out on their own communities in anger, torching businesses, and destroying their towns. The pain they felt could no longer be withheld inside. Massive riots erupted in cities like Trenton, New Jersey, Baltimore, Maryland, and Washington, D.C.
In Washington, D.C., the Shaw, Columbia Heights, Petworth, H Street NE Corridor, and U Street, were historically African-American neighborhoods, despite the end of segregation. As the news spread, riots exploded in Shaw, U Street, the H Street NE Corridor, and Columbia Heights, and protests built up Georgia Avenue. The city burned brightly, and Lyndon B. Johnson nationalized the guard to protect the city from complete destruction. D.C. radio icon Petey Greene launched onto the radio and pleaded that people stay in their homes and continue the non-violent mission of MLK, no matter how angry they may be. He encouraged they call in and express their anger over the phone. He left the lines open all night.
The damage done to Washington, D.C. took years to restore. In Shaw/U Street, the only business left standing after the riots was the Ben's Chili Bowl (and everyone who works there will tell you proudly about it if it ever slows down enough to do so). The destruction caused property values to sharply decline, and racial tensions continued to separate white and black by neighborhoods. In the past decade, many of these neighborhoods have just recently been able to redevelop. U Street, with Ben's Chili Bowl as an anchor, is now a hotspot for nightlife. Columbia Heights experienced redevelopment, and now holds the only mall-like structure within the district limits, providing district residents the opportunity to shop and spend dollars within their place of residence and not in Maryland or Virginia. Many neighborhoods are still struggling to survive and put themselves back on the map, but they are determined not to fail.
King said:
One of the great liabilities of history is that all too many people fail to remain awake through great periods of social change. But today our very survival depends on our ability to stay awake, to adjust to new ideas, to remain vigilant, and face the challenge of change.
The spirit of Martin Luther King, Jr. is continually alive and well in the city of Washington, D.C. As King pushed on in his darkest of days, so has D.C. The district has its limitations and its failures, but it has its successes and prospects to launch it into more than just the nation's capital. The district and its residents have continued for more than 40 years to rebuild and redevelop the city to its former and new glory. The city has more to offer than just the federal government, and the people here are committed to prove it.
sweet sweet home
I left Alabama in 1961 and never went back to live. Not because I don’t like it, but because living outside it, I can see it more objectively. –William Christenberry
I've told people before that I have a love/hate relationship with Alabama. Jokingly, I tell them that I love it when I'm away, and I hate it when I'm there. It's halfway right, but mostly wrong, too.
While I shouldn't joke about how my home state, there is a lot that I feel really proud that the state has accomplished. For one, I am in love with the governor right now. Gov. Bob Riley is the best governor the state has had since Big Jim Folsom. Of course, Big Jim was pretty crooked, so technically, Riley is the cleanest governor so far that the state might have had… pretty much ever. But, Riley has brought some amazing industry to the state, and most of all, he has put honesty, honor, and dignity back into the governor's mansion, something that has been missing for far too long in the state of Alabama (plus, he wears cowboy boots with his suits, and rides a motorcycle). I'm also excited to see about the prospects of 2010 for the Governor's Mansion. It will be interesting to see what kind of impact Artur Davis can make on the state and its voting habits.
I grow incredibly homesick at times… with all of my family there, it is harder and harder to be away and to see my niece growing up just by pictures seems so unfair. It's difficult to have lived there and know everything about daily lives to just talking a few times a week and the conversations are short-lived. There are also people there that I have dear friendships with that I have really grown to miss our connections. While I have been gone, one friend has birthed a beautiful son, a few have gotten married, and others, well, I'm not gonna lie, I miss their stories. I miss the lunch gatherings at regular spots. I miss getting to see friends do stand-up. I miss the BBQ. Oh, dear sweet Lord, do I miss the BBQ. I mean, not as much as my family, of course, but I can call and talk to friends… there's no connection with BBQ here. None. Nada.
At the same time, when I do go home, because of my seeming "black sheep" status in the family, or even in the state, I feel out of place because I've been in D.C. and lived a life completely separate from that of everyone in Alabama. There's a sort of disconnect that happens at gatherings and functions. Once again, it becomes small talk, which I can't stand. Much of it is my fault, because I become so busy that I don't stay in touch with friends, but it's only half my fault. Still, it's painful to have a disconnect in a place that I consider my home. I sincerely want to know what is going on with people and their lives. Sadly, instead of conversation, we've let technology in the form of Facebook and Twitter replace those meaningful exchanges. I love knowing what is going on, and it's helpful, but a simple message on the 'book or a tweet in 140 characters can't exactly divulge every emotion of the heart.
In retrospect, I am on and off the fence with Christenberry's view of Alabama. Being away from it, I don't know that I can always see it more objectively. There are times when I can, and times when I can't. It's like a power switch. Perhaps I didn't stay long enough before I departed to have a connection to be able to hold my objectivity. Maybe that it why I yearn to visit so much, and I long for home much more than many of those around me. Or, maybe Christenberry is off base, and has no idea… and we are all critics of our home, no matter where this life takes us. It's what we do with that criticism, positive or negative, that shapes our viewpoints.
Either way, I suppose that since I have been such a nomad in my life, I will be forced to live by the old adage, "home is where you are." And, I need to learn to get used to it. But, I secretly still count down the days when I get to visit my dear sweet home Alabama.
resonant conversations
Today, I went down to Eastern Market with some friends, just for an opportunity to socialize. While I was the slowpoke who barely made it down to grace their presence, I did get to walk around with them for a few moments before they departed back for the 'burbs of Virginia. Then, as I made my way back toward my car, I decided to browse through some of the artisans' tents and make the best of my few hours out of the house, since I had been stuck inside it sick for almost two weeks now. As I browsed through jewelry, clothing, and art, I appreciated the work that went into each piece.
Moe than the handiwork, though, some artisans took the time to connect with the people browsing in their space. Beginning questions of their work turned into deeper questions on life and passion. One painter, a man originally from northeastern Tennessee, painted vivid scenes of D.C. neighborhoods. We talked about the South, and about the small neighborhoods from which we came, and how they differed from the life and speed of the world of D.C. And people say there are no southerners here…
Another vendor, a printmaker, who originally hailed from Russia, picked up on my accent and asked me about it. I told him that I was from Alabama, and he began asking me how the state felt about politics, democracy, and Obama. He moved from Russia straight to D.C. just a few years ago. He explained that he had such a difficult time understanding how some regions could have such a political stronghold and not be swayed. However, I told him that he couldn't simply single out the South in his judgments about political strongholds. He asked about racism, and I again told him that the South alone was not guilty in the stereotypes. I explained to him that the racism that exists continues because it is often passed down through families, and it is more than just black and white. I told him that it is a problem that is more than just a recent occurence. He asked very innocently about how the country can begin to move beyond racism and coexist peacefully. I told him that to me, love is the only way that I know how. He thanked me for my answers, and gave me a small traditional Russian Orthodox print in appreciation for spending time with him.
A few moments later, I went and stopped by another vendor of an artist who painted abstracts of D.C. The artist's girlfriend was in the booth. I saw a painting that I loved, and decided that I wanted it for myself, because I couldn't turn it down. Also, because while I was in the booth and talking with her for a few moments, I noticed her book about linguistics and asked her if she was in school. She is currently working on her Ph.D. We began discussing grad school, and I told her of my hopes to study history and write a specific local history of D.C. When I told her that, she slashed the price of the piece I told her I was buying. But, her conversation about her experiences in grad school and how she has enjoyed studying and research will stick with me. And, I'll enjoy the great print that I didn't have to haggle, and it already has a perfect place on my wall.
All of these conversations help me to realize that it's such an amazingly strange and beautiful world, full of wonder, and full of confusion. I like the thought that each day, we are all a piece of each person's puzzle. And each person today fit perfectly into my puzzle. Every conversation helped me to reaffirm who I am, who I want to be, and who I have always been. Everyone has a story… and everyone's stories are intertwined. It's one of the essential tools I carry as a southerner: storytelling (and storygathering). I wish I was better at storytelling most of the time. But, I love listening to the stories of people and where they have been and what people have done. And without people to make conversation, with whom can we share our stories?
There's a song from Brandi Carlile, called "The Story," that has the most incredible lyrics that fit right into my day:
All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to.
There is so much more that I don't know out in the world, and I need some of these resonant conversations in order to gain insight into my own soul, and to motivate me toward my own personal greatness (which, isn't to say that it's all that great, but it's a personal best). I definitely cherish many conversations that I have, and log them away into the depths of my soul. They help me become more alive than I could ever imagined.
i feel like dancing
I have good days, and I have bad days. My bad days have been greater lately, just with the overwhelming stress of work and exhaustion, but I digress.
I get sick of the bad days… I'm an optimist by nature. Even when things are crazy busy and everyone around has a bad attitude, I continually try to find something to smile or laugh about, just because I don't want to be dragged down. So, being stuck in the house all week with a virus and basically exhausted and flat on my back has kept me from being able to see the glass in its proverbial hall full state.
Today, I schlepped out for an early morning meeting (to me, anything before 10 a.m. is early, yeah, yeah, say what you will, I'm NOT a morning person) at 8 a.m. out in past the beltway in NoVA. From where I live, that's basically about a 35 minute drive on any given day without traffic. Thankfully, I saw last night that the National Marathon was going on this morning and found an alternate route, or my commute would've been even longer. THAT would've made me even unhappier. The meeting was 4 hours. FOUR HOURS. ON A SATURDAY. Now, given the fact that it is for an alumni association, I am more than happy to give of my time for them and help out, especially now that I'm required because I'm an officer. But, seeing as how I had a few bad days already, an 8 a.m. meeting out in Timbuktu from D.C. did not add any glimmer of hope to balancing my scales toward the happy side.
After the meeting, I once again dodged the Marathoners, secretly hoping to possibly hit one, two, maybe a spectator, or even better a tourist for some points. OK, I kid. As I'm rerouting my way home, I run into another detour… there's a protest march going on down Rock Creek Parkway toward the Pentagon (thanks WUSA for letting us know that this morning AFTER it started… you guys are 2 for 2 on this now in 12 hours). I finally get around the detour and head home, and my stomach is growling ferociously.
I decided to stop into the neighborhood deli… It's a quaint Jamaican bakery that made me the most amazing 
King Cake for Mardi Gras! 
And, they have wonderful sandwiches. So, I ordered myself a sandwich and was waiting when the two most adorable girls came in, chattering in what is most likely an Ethiopian language (one of 84… how am I supposed to know which one?). And then, they see the cakes they want in the cooler window, and start singing and dancing! I couldn't keep a frown on my face and just started giggling along with them like a little school girl.
I realized then how I've been missing my own dancing in life lately. The old adage goes:
Dance like no one is watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like no one is listening,
Live like it's heaven on earth.
I need to remind myself more often that life's moments are only here for that long, and I need to enjoy them while I can. So, I'll be cranking up my iPhone/iPod a little louder, and probably looking a little more like a fool when I walk down the street, because the sounds of my playlists will be putting a bit more rhythm into my step, and making that water glass a lot fuller. Heck, it may start overflowing.
