Mes Souhaites

If you're in DC, go to Artomatic. Now. Go.

I saw some amazing stuff last night. Pure Light Seed did a really powerful set. Slam poets Omékongo, Bomani Armah and Droopy gave some really entertaining performances. To top it off, there's amazing art all over the place.

The sad thing was there was all this amazing stuff and hardly anyone there. It's in the austere Crystal City. Imagine a bunch of bohemians invade an office building, cover the walls in graffiti, put up art all over the place and start playing music. Awesomeness, huh? It is definitely worth a visit and next Friday one of MPP's own will be performing with Capitol Fire Arts. That ought to be really cool.

I almost got this done last night, but had to run off to see Rusted Root. The concert was awesome. The songs are a bit uniform, but they are uniformly kinetic and hypnotic. Especially at the volume right by the stage where I couldn't understand most of the words, it all felt very primal.

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I'm slacking again and not posting. It unfortunately generally happens when I have the most interesting things going on.

Like the hulking Cote d'Ivoiriene guy who, within minutes of me meeting him, told me to take my pants off. Not a doctor. Not a rapist. The masseuse who delivered the amazing present McK gave me for our one year anniversary. (Though realizing how good it felt to get a good rubbin' left me reevaluating the value of the massages she gets from me at a minimum of twice weekly. I think maybe I should be getting some cash or something for that level of relaxation.) We also went to Georgia Brown's and had a lovely evening eating very expensive southern food.

On Tuesday I had an amazing time. I'm pretty sure it is the first time I've ever been to a bar by myself as I went to see Speakeasy DC. I can't believe there has been storytelling going on here the whole time I've been in DC and I haven't known about it.

There were two featured tellers and then several "open-micers." The open-mic people only got seven minutes for their stories, so they had to tell fast and tell well. There wasn't a single teller that didn't do a really solid job. The language was succinct but colorful; the tones warm and embracing.

I sent out text messages while I was watching because I really wanted to share the experience. My description at the time was, "imagine improv by poets with their lives as material." The theme for the evening was "Hurts So Good: Stories About the Pain and Pleasure of Romance." The stories ran the gamut. Ones that I remember are:

• The girl whose love for her boyfriend drove her to help him achieve his dreams by enrolling them both in scuba diving lessons. Her passion having somehow blinded her to the fact that she neither swam nor enjoyed water at all. So excited was he to get into the dive that he was already under as she puked twice before following him down. Their relationship survived that bump only to come to an end when he enrolled them both in advanced lessons a couple months later.
• A poetry slam performer who told the story of how he came to know his wife. One of the lines I enjoyed particularly was, "Her ass in that red dress was like the sun setting over the desert. I wanted so badly to ride off into that sunset." I wish I could manage to suave and lewd simultaneously.
• The City Paper has an "I Saw You" section where you can connect with people you've met at random, but didn't get a number for. One girl told of helping a guy work out something with his cell phone while riding the bus. They meet with the aid of the City Paper, and during their date another girl comes storming in off the street demanding, "What was it? The L2? The B9? The 42?" and turning to the guy starts tearing into him about the bus being "their thing." He turns to the teller and calmly says, "you don't need to stay for this." She didn't.
• The 30-year-old "love virgin" who, after a guy professed his love for her and persisted for a couple months, is convinced of her own love. Not too long thereafter though he retracted his profession, not to end the relationship, but just "to let her know." Well, once she dumped him, she got a refund for his Christmas gift and spent the money on a spa. She now keeps a breakup fund that gets $100 every month she's in a relationship.
• There was one fellow who attempted to tell the story of his childhood camp love, but the sound system was going out. He still gave a good telling of one of the more touching stories, but he seemed a bit flustered.
• There was even a traditional love tale from somewhere in Eastern Europe that told of a pair of rock formations and how they were placed there to immortalize a grandfather, granddaughter, and their love for each other.

There were some others, but those are the ones I remember the best. The also had an audience participation bit where people wrote down their stories on note cards and competed for "best deal-breaker," "most romantic" and "most pathetic." My favorite was the deal-breaker winner. A fellow is on a first date in New Orleans and Dan Akroyd is in the restaurant. His date was a fan and went over to talk to Dan, sat down at the table, and before the guy leaves, his date is making out with Dan. Ouch.

I sent a few hours this morning wandering around the United for Peace and Justice rally and march. It was entertaining to see the varieties of different people that were out in opposition to the war. There were guitar playing hippies that were likely on the Mall 40 years ago protesting Vietnam. Black-clad anarchist teenagers with their faces covered, waving somehow angry looking flags. The hip-hop contingent holding a freestyle competition with an anti-war theme. A troupe of very peppy young girls dressed all in red who danced and sung their way through the crowd.

Unfortunately the camera that I recently stole only has it's default 512mb card, so I wasn't able to take many pictures. I did get a couple though.

It was interesting how everyone was there to join in a common cause, but there were still lots of behaviors to establish an individual identity in the crowd. I liked it because as much as it made it a unified statement to some external group, it was an entertaining spectacle for the folks participating. I also realized a certain reluctance on my part to really join in. I'm still doing a pretty jaded bit. I think it really started to set in with the re-election of Bush. The starving African children and more recent gay-marriage bans have helped keep it in place. Do many of the rest of you feel fundamentally out of touch with the pulse of the American populace? There were lots of people chanting "This is what democracy looks like" today. I wish that I believed that.

For those in DC, the performance of King Lear by the Classical Theatre of Harlem at the Folger Theatre is an evening well-spent.

I was only vaguely familiar with the story and André De Shields performance as Lear really helped draw me into the story. It is frequently difficult to deliver Shakespeare without it seeming performed. I thought that De Shields did a good job of effectively conveying emotion into a very complex character. My favorite though was Ty Jones as Edmund. The emotional depth of the character is more limited, but what there was he swam in. I really enjoyed his relish at being bad. ☺

Alfred Pressier's interpretation of the play was a little non-traditional. The costuming was more Middle Eastern than the little bit I remember from the bits Lawrence Olivier's performance I saw years ago. The most striking aspect though was the energy and physical presence of the performers. The entire cast moves with a sense of power that I am more accustomed to seeing in Cirque du Soleil than in Shakespeare. The athleticism of the actors was readily apparent as the jumped and climbed and fought their way through the play.

I think that some might be set off by the level of energy and pace of the show. I liked both it and Pressier's use of a set of moving risers to alter the set through the course of the performance.

I also spent some time discussing the "complete misrepresentation" of McK's views in my post yesterday with her shortly before I went to the play. As such, issues of race were still playing in my mind as I watched this predominantly black troupe. The most prominent white actor was Danny Camiel as the cuckolded and dominated Duke of Albany. I thought it was also interesting that with the deaths of Lear, Regan, Goneril, Cordelia, Cornwall and Gloucester; he will likely be the one to end up owning most everything. ☺

I've been wandering our nation's capitol for almost a year now. I've gone to some of the museums and monuments, and I've definitely seen my share of bars and restaurants. Last Tuesday, I got to take part in another part of the DC life: the political rally.

My evening began rolling sushi at a little MPP get-together. It is definitely the way to go with sushi. Normally I get five or six yummy little rolls and they are all too soon gone. When you are rolling your own you can stick all kinds of treats in them and make mounds of sushi.

It was interesting because I was talking to someone about food and started going on about how excited I was for my upcoming lunch at Fogo de Chão. I went on for a couple minutes about how amazing fifteen different types of flame seared meats was going to be before I realized it had gotten quieter. It was then that I remembered that I work for the weed people. In the room of twenty people I was one of three omnivores. It was all good though since that left more of the salmon and cream cheese for me which was so delicious as to nearly cause me to lose control of my bodily functions.

From the MPP party, I headed over to the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee party. McK scored us tickets through a friend and it was a sight to behold. Just walking through the door the smell of politics was thick in the air. There were lots of important people milling about and even more people looking to make their acquaintance. The schmoozing was thick enough to cut it with a knife.

My creative team is still working on our business cards and I was already a bit lit, so I wasn't looking to get my schmooze on. I just enjoyed the live band, open bars and hollering whenever a new seat would be called for the Dems. I doubt that I could have spent the evening with a happier bunch of people. When Pelosi got up to give her speech people I saw people crying.

It was a really fun evening and I got a cute little donkey pin for my lapel.

Things at MPP were a little less jubilant the next day. They lost both the South Dakota and Nevada campaigns. It was unfortunate. We knew things were going to be close, but I'd hoped that things would work out. There were a variety of local initiatives that passed. It's something at least.

• 2006/07/22 12:05 - Leave DC for Shenandoah National Park
• 2006/07/22 14:58 - Stop at a light in Warrenton
• 2006/07/22 14:59 - Pitch rolled up pieces of bread crust from one car to another
• 2006/07/22 15:03 - Ticked for littering
• 2006/07/22 15:10 - Notice that the date on the ticket is 2008/09/15
• 2006/07/22 15:12 - Notice that the license on the ticket is from Virginia
• 2006/07/22 15:15 - Decide not to worry too much as there are two years to wait
• 2006/08/10 15:10 - Look up $250 minimum fine for littering
• 2006/09/25 10:15 - Notice of trial in abstentia and $182 fine arrive in Bristol
• 2006/10/05 09:15 - Remailed notice with license suspension penalty and payment date of 10/04 make it to DC
• 2006/10/15 13:30 - Online verification of license validity
• 2006/11/10 22:45 - Notice of suspension of Virginia "No License" arrives in DC

Yesterday, in early celebration of my birthday several of us went out to Fogo de Chão. It was sumptuous.

The basic idea for the restaurant is there are men wandering the floor at all times bearing skewers of freshly fire seared meats. They purport to have fifteen different sorts, but the ones I saw were:

• Filet Mignon - tenderloin wrapped in bacon
• Costela - beef ribs
• Costela de Porco - pork ribs
• Linguica - pork sausages
• Beef Ancho - prime rib
• Alcatra - top sirloin
• Fraldilnha - bottom sirloin
• Cordeiro - leg of lamb
• Frango - chicken wrapped in bacon
• Picanha - sirloin seasoned with sea salt and garlic

You have a little colored disc by your plate and you just flip it from red to green to send gauchos descending upon you to whack off a tasty chunk of meat. It was so good. The meats were wonderfully seasoned and so soft that I didn't so much cut them as have them fall to pieces when I tried to cut them.

There's also a huge salad bar, but I didn't go to it until I'd already eaten about three platefuls of meat. There were some cheeses and whatnot, but few things that seemed worthy of depriving stomach space to more delectable meat. ☺

Also at the table there were cheesy mashed potatoes and some sort of little bread puff filled with cheese and fried plantains. The whole experience was amazing and I am really thankful to my friends for doing it with me.

So, I'm an uncle now. Little Finn Lawson Holcomb was born 8lbs 5oz yesterday. I'd post a picture of him, but the Verizon people are bitches and have disabled OBEX on their Razr. They want to force me to pay them to get pictures off my phone and add ringtones. Greedy fuckers.

I've been a bit remiss in getting updates written. This means that memorable events such as the tcheub-u-jen eating contest and my subsequent failed attempt at bulemia will be left to no better record than my abysmal memory. Oh well, so it goes… ☺

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Chemchoune El Arab, l'un des grandes, one of the greats. Chemchoune is the Arabic form of Samson, and the man is fixture in the mythos of Mauritania. I'd heard tales of his feats of strength from past volunteers, but had given up hope of actually seeing him perform. Much to my pleasure did I notice a poster featuring a big man with a handlebar mustache performing feats of strength and fortitude. In one corner he was buried under a pile of rocks, another showed him pulling a car with his teeth and a third with him swarmed with children. My pulse quickened, as this looked like the Chemchoune of lore, but the poster was in Arabic, so I couldn't be sure.

A short time later though, I saw the same poster, but this time in French. It was Chemchoune and he was going to be performing at one of the local basketball courts on Saturday! So, 16h Saturday saw myself and a group of interested volunteers at the Stade Sebkah.

( The Amazing Exploits of Chemchoune El Arab )