WSC at Rock N Roll Hotel

Hallway Flyer
Originally uploaded by alex.DC.

So this weekend I decided to finally make my way down to H Street NE to check out Rock n Roll Hotel, and with it, Washington Social Club. I hadn't been there yet because the only sensible way to get there is by car, and who lives in DC to travel to clubs by car?

But anyway, the club turned out to be cool. Two floors, with bands and a dance floor on the first level, and on the second level a more chill space with couches, and separate rooms that initially appear to be like rooms off a hotel corner (thus the name). As I was watching the bands, it came over me that the place reminded me of the old 930 Club. Not sure whether it was the black-painted minimalist interior downstairs, the colored lights over a smallish stage, or just the spirit of an energetic club in an ancient building in a decayed neighborhood (as 930 F Street, NW used to be).

That feeling came over me even before I went upstairs and saw the corridor lined with flyers to old DC punk shows from the 1980s -- Grey Matter, Marginal Man, and many, many more. It reminded me of a similar corridor that ran behind the stage at d.c. space (rest in peace). So the Hotel, although being very much of the present time, also feels solidly as part of a continuum back to DC's rock-n-roll/punk past.

Anyway, on to the bands. I caught Stock Market Crash (funny name) opening for WSC. With Halloween nearing, the frontman told the crowd "we're in disguise -- as snotty British rockers." And actually, they did remind me of Oasis.

Washington Social Club put on a great show. They were all in costume, and the wackiness that is Halloween in DC (costumes in the audience included a Krispy Kreme girl with a knife through her head, and a bloodied tennis star, and the band was in costume as well) seemed to further energise an already energetic show. That energy showed no signs of dissipating when Liberation Dance Party kicked in right after their set, but I was getting hungry so I pointed my car up Florida Avenue, past the protesters at Gallaudet and back to the more familiar environs of Northwest.

On the way home, a dumpster hit my car, as if to punish me for breaking my never-drive-when-going-out rule. But it was only a scratch, and I'd have to say that for an infusion of good environment, music, and Halloween spirit, it was worth it.

Proliferation Crisis

I just noticed today that a new donut store is opening on P Street NW. That makes three donut stores (that I know of) around Dupont -- Dunkin Donuts on 17th and Krispy Kreme at the Circle are the other two. A few years ago, there were none. What is going on here? Who is eating all these donuts? How do you eat donuts regularly without getting fat?

High heel race aftermath, October 24 2006

High heel race aftermath, October 24 2006
Originally uploaded by alex.DC.

So last night took place a hallowed DC tradition, the annual "high heel race" on 17th Street NW. It used to take place on Halloween, but years ago it was moved to a nearby night because that just became chaotic. The race, in which drag queens compete, is over in 5 seconds, but the real fun is the melee that comes before and after.

Click on the photo to see more, or look at the set.

I just got a CD by the Vaselines in the mail... good stuff, so far.

Tojo Never Made it to Darwin

I used to love listening to the Hoodoo Gurus way back around 1985 or 1986. I had "Stoneage Romeos" in cassette in my car, and I would play it wherever I went. But I always was left wondering, what was this song all about?

Tracy. Tracy was angry.
A bad mood.
I told her, "it's an ill wind
Blows no good."
(Then she told me:)
"Tojo never made it to Darwin."

I said, "Tracy, won't you listen - this is Christmas!
Don't you go."
She said, "David, I wouldn't miss this for the world but I
Got to blow."
(Then she said again:)
"Tojo never made it to Darwin."

Now she's gone, gone, gone
Just like the wind.
I just sigh,
But I'm dreaming that I'm gleaming
In her eye.
(But I'll always hear:)
"Tojo never made it to Darwin."

That year, Santa never came.

Now, thanks to the internet, such mysteries can easily be known. The song is about Cyclone Tracy, which devastated Darwin, Australia on Christmas, 1974, leading to a popular song titled "Santa Never Made it to Darwin." The reference to Tojo recalls the Japanese bombing of Australia in World War II, which also caused widespread damage -- but never led to a Japanese invasion. What I gather is Hurricane Tracy is saying "Tojo didn't make it -- but I did."

Now what were they trying to say with Leilani?

Roosevelt Franklin

One of my favorite muppets has re-appeared... on Youtube...

The Birds

The Birds
Originally uploaded by alex.DC.

I was walking up past 1616 16th (love that address) the other night, and I saw what I first thought was people picking through trash. Then I realized that what I was seeing was the aftermath of an eviction. You don't see many such things around Dupont Circle, especially now that the neighborhood has been overrun by the rich-and-boring set, but occasionally you do, and it's always kind of a sad sight. I this case, it looked like perhaps the person had been spending way too much on their clothing, paticularly for an amazing collection of boots. The usual scavengers were picking through it too -- that always seems a little callous to me. It's not a yard sale, and it's unlikely they're happy their stuff is on the sidewalk, particularly with strangers picking through it.

Couple of nights ago I popped by Saint Ex. Actually, I was on my way to the Black Cat for a bite of food at their very excellent, and small, restaurant, when I once again was thwarted by my missing driver's license. I didn't want those big black X's on my hands, and I wanted a drink with my meal. So, after taking one look at the revamped Bar Pilar, I continued on to St. Ex. Usually at Ex I go for the burger, but I'd eaten earlier that day at Five Guys and didn't want to see meat again for a while, so I got the gnocchi. Very tasty. To add to that, the pleasant company of both the bartender and the patrons next to me left me with no choice but to have a few more drinks after that, along with a shot of Jamisons. Yummy. Turns out, the secret to having a nice time at St. Ex is the same one as at almost any bar in town: save your Saturday nights for DVDs and SNL, go out on Tuesdays instead.

Last night, I met some friends for drinks at the Chop House, which, with the streets filled with limos, Virginia-tagged SUVs, and Barbara Streisand concert-goers, was the only bar around that wasn't packed. Delicious onion rings and dip. We then proceeded to the Wooly Mammoth to see Get Your War On. The play was delayed when a false fire alarm forced us theatregoers to wait outside, but ultimately was very funny and well worth the wait. It's only here for another day or two, so if you want to see it, hurry. After Get Your War On, we went to Austin Grill, where I again was refused a drink due to my lack of ID ("I'm not even close to 21, honest!") so everyone had margaritas while I contented myself with a lime soda.

Today I headed with J. to Georgetown in the hopes of getting my replacement driver's license. Georgetown felt like London today, what with outdoor shoe sellers, trendy shops, brick buildings, crisp weather, and confused tourists from a variety of lands (and hinterlands). Unfortunately the DC DMV station in Georgetown Park is no longer open on Saturdays, it turns out. One great DC government innovation, gone. So the lack-of-license saga continues.

A walk around Shaw

Out behind the 9:30 Club
Originally uploaded by alex.DC.

So several months ago, I moved my TV to a better viewing position. What this meant, however, was that it was separated from my building's master antenna line -- so no more TV, just DVDs. Which has been, for the most part, OK, because I mostly rely on Netflix for my viewing indulgences anyway (both movies and TV series, such as Freaks and Geeks, The Wire, Arrested Development, and Curb Your Enthusiasm, can be had via Netflix). But anyway, the bottom line is that I've been without TV since spring, with the exception of when I travel, and then it's usually CNN and BBC anyway.

Anyway, yesterday I finally ran a coaxial cable line to the TV's new location, so once again I am hooked up. I had been avoiding this because it was a huge pain -- as evidenced by the bruise on my finger where I banged myself repeatedly while hammering in cable tacks -- and there's no way it's not aesthetically ugly. Last night I watched Saturday Night Live, and I tell ya, what a difference being away from TV for a long time makes -- the show seemed funny (and some of it actually was, such as a funny skit involving a Fake Lou Reed and Patty Smith reminiscing about CBGB's), even the commercials were engaging. And I saw my first political attack ads of the season, something most people are probably sick of. The other striking thing was the feeling that I'd been cut off from civilization and had just re-engaged. I know it's illusionary, but TV gives you the impression that you've been tied into a huge global family. A family that doesn't listen to you, of course.

One other thing I should mention is that I occasionally like to take a swig of Tabasco sauce, or something similar, and DL Jardine's Texas Champagne cayenne pepper sauce is a particularly good sauce to swig. And last night it struck me that it would be even better mixed up as a shot with a little bit of vodka, so I found a bottle of Stolichnaya in the freezer, mixed it up with chili sauce, and lo and behold, it made for an excellent drink.

Last night also featured a trip to the Fox & Hounds for dinner (Penne Putanesca, yum). It was a perfect Fox & Hounds night, not too crowded, not too many revellers from outside the neighborhood, a few familiar faces talking about familiar things. To my disappointment, I learned from the experts assembled at the bar that the chili-sauce-and-vodka drink I had created is not a new invention, but instead is known as a "Prairie Dog."

As for today... today was a perfect day for a walk around Shaw. The link takes you to some photos.

Kitty

#858 lickit
Originally uploaded by Eric Setiawan.

Check out this adorable cat from Bekasi, a suburb of Jakarta, Indonesia, posted by another Flickr member....

I know this is wrong, but there is some strange comfort in knowing that 3/4 of the people I know seem to have the same cold that I currently do. It's not that I take pleasure in the misery of others -- more that this is an indication to the hypochondriac in me that I don't have some exotic and fatal condition, but rather just an all-too-common cold. Unless, of course, we've all come down with Avian Flu and don't realize it yet.

Head shop

Head shop
Originally uploaded by alex.DC.

So jury duty ended today, finally. It took a lot longer than I'd expected because we had a great deal of trouble coming to an agreement, and in fact it ended in a deadlock. To add to the frustration, we were not allowed to talk about the case while it was ongoing, so I couldn't really explain to my co-workers why I wasn't coming back to work, and of course the more difficult the deliberations got, the more I wanted to talk. But I couldn't!

After dinner at Matisse (Tenleytown) last night, we were walking out on Wisconsin Avenue when I thought I spotted a reflection of another era, I looked closer and I was amazed to see that I was looking at a real life 70s artifact, a head shop! Sure, it was disguised as a tobacco outlet, but really, who is going to smoke tobacco out of a pipe with a skull on it. At one time, it would've looked right at home in the slightly seedy environs of Tenleytown; these days, it looks like a charming relic from a bygone era.

I've put together a set of photos of things on Flickr. They are here as a slide shot: THINGS

March of the soy bottles, Q St NW

March of the soy bottles, Q St NW
Originally uploaded by alex.DC.

So today, whilst walking around, I heard a LOUD cell phone conversation:

"You're going to have to tell him. Sooner or later he's going to wonder why you're spending so much time away."
[pause]
"You HAVE to tell him. He WILL find out!"
[pause]
"He WILL find out!"

Um... he certainly will find out if this person's friends aren't a little more discreet!

Friday, I saw, waiting for the 30 Bus on Pennsylvania Avenue, someone who I think was Larry Gilliard Jr., a talented actor who plays D'Angelo Barksdale in the excellent HBO series "The Wire." If not him, a dead ringer.