Outside the Beltway

I've finally completed my Capitol Hill internship, packed up the apartment, and flew back to the good ol' 518, thus ending my series of posts relating to DC life. If you want to review my series again, just click on the "DC" tag at the end of this post.

The Last the Senate Saw of Ted Kennedy

Ted Kennedy made his last stop at the U.S. Senate yesterday before being taken to Arlington National Cemetery to be buried among his brothers. The late Massachusetts Senator's funeral was held in Boston earlier in the day and attended by President Obama, Former Presidents Clinton, Bush (43), and Carter, Vice President Biden, Former Vice Presidents Gore and Quayle, and Secretary of State Clinton, among others. Awaiting his body on the Capitol steps were around 500 mostly former staffers, many of whom had attended Sen. Kennedy's 75th birthday party and now reconvened here under less happy circumstances. The casket was not originally planned to stop at the Capitol (as evidenced by the complete lack of crowd barriers), but seeing as that was where Ted had spent the majority of his life, it seemed only fitting that it should. The public was not given much notice, but from the DC news I read, I learned that the casket would arrive sometime after 4PM. Since I lived only two blocks away, I ventured out at the appointed hour to see it.

Leaving my apartment and nearing the Senate, I saw waves of people converging there, drawn if by magnetism. Residents and tourists. Children and parents. The young. The elderly. A spectrum of all colors. They collectively felt that this was a historic moment and maybe for Teddy or maybe for themselves they wanted to be a part of it. I found myself next to a kindly looking older man with a powder blue Obama hat and holding what appeared to be the only sign in the entire crowd. In felt marker it read "Hail to the Hero of Healthcare" and he quietly held it to his chest as we awaited the hearse.

Just then, a lady wearing a teal blazer and some neck badge I've never seen before came through the crowd and approached the man. She identified herself as a Kennedy staffer, told the man that his sign was disrespecting the funeral, ans asked him to take it down. The kindly man said that he would be unable to honor that request and held it up again. The fact that a congressional staffer asked a man to censor himself hear the capitol deeply troubled me. He wasn't shouting anything or disturbing those around him. The sign he held merely honored Kennedy's championing of health care, and did not directly advocate for anything. What's more, he was holding the sign in a secluded part of a 5,000+ crowd, not on Kennedy's funeral alter or anything. I patted him on the shoulder and we exchanged nods.

"Maybe she's against healthcare," he said to me. The pasty man in front of him turned to him and matter-of-factly said that she's a loyal staffer and was merely enforcing the Kennedys' reasonable request that the event not be politicized. We asked this other staffer what about the sign he found to be partisan and why, given the fact that Kennedy himself said that the pursuit of universal health care was "the cause of my life," it disrespected the event. We reminded him that earlier at Kennedy's funeral, his own grandson, in the church and on live television, said, "that every American will have decent quality health care as a fundamental right and not a privileged, we pray to the lord [lord hear our prayer]." The man seemed to realize that he was not going to look good in this discussion, the way officials arguing with citizens never do. He said something about avoiding the political backlash caused at the Paul Wellstone funeral, and we asked again how a funeral for a lifetime politician can be anything less than political. If Democrats want to turn off voters, they should continue to hire self-righteous staffers like these.

About that time, the 22-year-old woman directly in front of me collapsed. She and her similarly young and attractive husband had been waiting with their 1-year-old baby when heatstroke or dehydration must have got the better of her. Earlier they were frustrated they couldn't get any of the water for their baby that staffers were passing out, and I told them the obvious fact that if they say they have a child, everyone will bend over backwards to give them anything they want. "I have a baby," the father said. Presto: free water.

They had seemed pretty clueless when it came to being in crowds, I had to give them some more advice. "If she's not feeling well, you should shout the word 'medic'." Within 30 seconds the group of middle aged civilian paramedics who had come to her aid were relieved by a platoon of well-dressed Capitol doctors who gave her a full diagnostic and whisked her away. The kindly man turned again to me. "That's government run health care for you." Free and socialized, I thought. And no bureaucrat standing in the way. Within a few minutes, another woman fell, and then another. It became a game watching the young doctors and police man rush from place to place.

Standing in the heat of the Sun, occasionally relieved by a passing cloud, the crowd waited more than two hours, swelling in number all the while. Even the babies remained remarkably calm. The lady next to me remarked that things would have been better if the staffers passed out more water instead of American flags. I told her, "It's certainly not for lack of patriotism that everyone is passing out."

The crowd broke out into sustained applause when the sickly 91-year-old Senator Robert Byrd (D-WV) appeared in his wheelchair on the steps, and then again 15 minutes later when the hearse arrived. After some words by a religious official and a representative of the family, a choir led the crowd in America the Beautiful. As the family returned to their cars, the crowd broke into impromptu recessionals of patriotic songs sung in muted and reverent tones. From what I heard there, the singing began with the staffers on the steps and slowly spread like a faint wind onto the gathered crowd so that it too was fully involved by each song's first chorus.

The caravan consisted of a half dozen black sedans, a few black short-buses, and no less than five full-sized Peter Pan tour buses. After a while I started to wonder exactly how many Kennedys there really were. And then they all finally left, the sun setting behind the Lincoln Monument far in the distance, motorcycle engines competing for volume over the din of the cicadas: the Last the Senate ever saw of Ted Kennedy.

The lonely, rose-covered Senate desk

Since Ted Kennedy's internment in Arlington Cemetery will be closed to the public, I visited the Senate today with the help of a certain Dartmouth congressional intern to see his desk and pay my respects. Because the Senate is not currently in session, and in such times no pictures or videos are allowed to be taken of the floor, you'll have to rely on my description. As per Senate tradition, his desk is draped in black, and placed on the level top is a bowl of white roses. His desk is rather far in the back, which I found surprising given his seniority. Maybe he wanted it that way. His chair was one of few I could see that had a tan butt cushion, and I'm not really sure what to make of it.

Also on his desk was a single piece of paper, printed with the words of The Road Not Taken by the great Robert Frost. Consulting various news outlets, I can't seem to find out who is responsible for putting it there, or what personal significance it might have had for him, besides the fact that Frost came and spoke at the JFK inauguration. The Road Not Taken is so overused and frequently misunderstood that I find its placement on Kennedy's desk rather curious and worthy of examination. Here are the words:

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

What did the placer mean when he put this on the desk? Did he fall victim of the ignorant view that the poem is about individuality and the importance of choices? Was the poem choice suppose to honor the "trail-blazing" leadership of the Kennedy clan, of taking the life path less traveled as described in the last stanza?

That would certainly be a moving tribute if the poem didn't directly contradict that interpretation in the second and third stanza, when the paths are revealed to be equal in wear and leaf cover. Only in the projected future will the narrator amend reality to romanticize the decision. And further, in the immediate present of the decision, the speaker knows that he will speak of his decision later in time not with with defiance but with a regretful sigh.

Instead the poem illustrates the irony of a sentimentalist, knowing he will regret a meaningless choice, wishing perhaps to see where all roads lead before taking a step in either direction, and, once he does, inflating the story beyond what it actually was. Doesn't sound very fitting. Doesn't sound very Kennedy.

Instead I'd suggest putting a different Frost poem on Kennedy's desk, Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

First, the poem is set in the cold and snowy night of winter, alluding to the cold, the darkness, and the somberness of death. Second, the narrator is in isolation, as Kennedy now is in death. His only company, a horse (which for political purposes might as well be a donkey), expresses a desire to keep progressing to their objective (health care?) before turning in for the night. Last, the ending quatrain hearkens to the yet daunting amount of unfinished work to be done, the unfinished destiny of "the dream", the endurance of "the hope". And in all these things we find our Teddy Kennedy and are reminded of why we'll miss him so very much for so very long.

REVIEW: Hopelessly Devoted @ Capital Fringe

Never before have I seen a show that was so irreverent while being so tasteful. "Hopelessly Devoted" features a Chicagoan comedy duo reflecting on the the lighter side of the catholic experience. Their show consists of a series of skits ranging from one-liners to 10 minute impromptu productions involving, if at first unwillingly, members of the audience (just their luck, they got an atheist). The bits span jokes to embellished real life stories, the fanciful to the so seriously real you can't help but laugh.

The enjoyment of the show comes from the duo's ability to relate to the audience and the universality of their experiences. They are common people who can perfectly capture the mundane suffering of catholic life perfectly and in ways that show pride in their religion. The saying goes that comedy is tragedy plus time and no where is that more in evidence than here. The writing is tight and their delivery is perfect. For likely being a regional plug that changes from place to place, their Georgetown v. Catholic University skits were very well received. The couple even dated at one point making their catholic-husband-and-wife bits all the more believable, if (as they point out) slightly awkward.

Hopelessly Devoted was the best comedy act I saw at the Fringe and well deserved the praise other media outlets have given them. For people of every religious affiliation, this pair is a must see.

REVIEW: The Honest-To-God True Story of the Atheist @ Capital Fringe

Somewhere between the Viagra advertisement and the bleeding plastic nativity scene statue, they lost me. The Honest-To-God True Story of the Atheist attempts to explore one man's godly doubt through a series of seemingly unrelated and certainly underdeveloped skits bound together by a single plot. If you ever read about the urban legends on Snopes.com, a lot of the plot will not be new to you. In cases, the dialogue is word for word.

The plot centers around one atheist's rebellion against gods and expressions thereof using rather unlikely premises and 100% impossible results. Think fantasy without the funny. We're told that the atheist's story ends not with the ending he would have wanted for himself, but instead with the ending we would want would want for him. And while it is no conclusion Walt Disney would have wrote, he does find faith in something, though I'd label it consumer confidence.

The actors clearly have the ability to be funny, but choose to exercise it sparingly. I found some parts of some skits extremely enjoyable, but they were tempered by long periods of awkward seriousness and absolute dryness. There is no philosophy in the show, nor is there really any "atheistic" content, which wouldn't necessarily been a bad thing hadn't they labeled it a "comedy," which it clearly wasn't.

REVIEW: The Terrorism of Everyday Life @ Capital Fringe

Don't let the poster fool you. There is no scary green man in a gas mask, only this kindly-looking wrinkly one with an unusually dirty mouth and an even dirtier mind. Half stand-up comedy show, half one-man jam session, Ed Hamell's Terrorism of Every Day Life is a witty, vulgar, and honest look at the way life spends its time scaring us sh*tless.

Hamell is clearly polished; he's that old kind of comic that is well rehearsed at being spontaneous. Drifting from story to story -- from a childhood encounter with a potty-mouthed member of The Beatles, to his awkward adolescence, to having to ask the difficult questions of his own son -- Hamell is always cool, always authentic. He sometimes turning away from the microphone, mid-joke, to tell the audience things as if they're not on the record, things our parents in the next room wouldn't want us to hear. Not an easy task, especially when you're talking as fast as you can to complete your bit in only 60 minutes. (he did)

When Hamell's not being our cool uncle, telling us all the nasty (and funny) truths from which our parents have for so long been protecting us, he's blasting the life out of his worn guitar. For a guy that looks like a retired Mr. Clean, he rocks impressively hard and really keeps the show moving, varied, and engaging. He even has a naughty song or two that will make things between the girls sitting around you just a little bit awkward. His act is definitely worth seeing (without children, for the love of god). He even won an award at the large and illustrious Edinburgh Fringe Festival and he doesn't even mention it (well, maybe once or twice).

Goose Egg.

SPOTTED: at the 2009 College Democrats of America & the Democratic National Committee Youth Council at Tabaq in Washington D.C.-- Congressman Tim Ryan (D-OH). The 36-year old, 4-term, single (ladies...) representative was very approachable, earnest, and easy-going. At the behest of a few USC people who wished to shake his hand but lacked the basic alcoholic confidence to go up to him, I introduced myself and the group and he and I proceeded to talk, quite naturally, for about 10 minutes. Here's the recap.

• Responding to my question of what the chance is that the health care bill would pass Congress before the August recess, he put his hand to his eye in the shape of a zero. Even if the House busted their hump and passed their version on time, Ryan believes the Senate would drag its feet and screw up anyway.
• After learning that I work in counter-narcotics, he simply said "legalize it."
• And he seemed quite receptive to my shameless promotion of the Merida Initiative. (something from work. google it.)

Ryan seemed like a great guy and Tabaq is well worth checking out, especially the green-house-esque roof deck that lit up with every lightening strike. Very cool.

REVIEW: Diamond Dead (Continued...) @ Capital Fringe

Imagine my horror, attending this show, knowing it was musical and nature but entirely unsure what to expect. After showing the first installment of a MTV/VH1 style documentary showing a couple of extremely goth superfans bussed out to see their idols, The Diamond Dead, the band takes the stage. Dressed in shiny leather platform army boots, black trenchcoats, neon mesh leggings, death masks, and even an external fake spinal cord, the band announces that they are, in fact, the first, and finest, actually dead death metal band and proceed to sing a song about necrophilia. I immediately thought that I had gotten way over my head and started scanning the crowd hoping to find some indication that I wasn't completely out of place.

However, it immediately became clear that this was no serious act and was instead a Death Metal Band in the same vein of Spinaltap. The video clips were clearly meant to be mockumentary in nature, the songs were way over the top, and the performers were self-deprecating satirical. For example, the only "living" member of the band was not shy to admit her crush on the dead front man, who refuses to make a move on her due his personal stance against necrophilia.

The songs were catchy and well performed (hats off to the drummer), the video clips were funny and witty, and the story line (which included cameo appearances from Death, the dethroned Ms. California, and a certain recently resigned Alaskan governor) was engaging and surprising. The enthusiastic standing ovation lasted more than five minutes before the band came out to explain that they had to clean-up immediately and would not be able to play an encore because another act was coming in. Simply put, a terrific show, the best of what I've seen at the Fringe so far.

REVIEW: Bargain Basement Game Show @ Capital Fringe.

Bargain Basement Game Show aims to be a game show of "high-brow trivia and low-brow humor" where everyone in the audience is a contestant. Upon arriving, every person is issued a score card, showing boxes numbered 0 through 40, a stack of cards reading "A", "B", "C", and "D", and a booklet overviewing the rules and directions. The plucky host then takes the stage with his lovely quasi-Vanna White assistant in a flowing red dress, and another comical female stage assistant. Questions are presented on three-sided poster boards (you know... from the 8th grade science fair?) and the audience members show their answers by raising the appropriately lettered card. The squirrely host then examines the answers, chides the few who are holding ones that are obviously wrong, and announces the correct one. Note: every person he called out gets free stuff so it might be a good idea to flunk on an easy answer to get a t-shirt.

His gang of helpers then jump out and cross off boxes on the correct cards according to the number of points the question was worth. Interspersed between the questions are witty dialogue, the host character's buffoonery (to the chagrin his straight-woman assistant), and theatrical productions designed to introduce clues to future answers. It becomes quite clear early on that the host's geekishness is not a production and is instead his authentic self -- evidenced by clumsiness and propensity to chortle at his own jokes -- but he is able to walk the fine line of comedy, preventing the show's inherent corniness from ever becoming awkward. There were a few goof-ups. Some lines were missed that weren't critical to the show's understanding, and a few subtle clues written into the sketches between the questions did not lead up to anything in the end. But the lovability of the cast smooths out any holes and makes it just another part of the show.

Even if quirky comedy isn't your thing, the show is full of wonderful prizes. First prize was a $50 gift card to best buy, second prize was $25 to Barnes and Noble, and third was $15 to Starbucks. The next five or so got 2GB flash drives. After handing all that out, they looked to hand out pieces of their set as prizes too and the first things that stuck out to them was the giant prop "NO" sign that stayed on stage the entire time. As the lucky man in 9th place, I won the sign and, taped to the back, there I found a $25 gift certificate to Amazon.com.

Quite a bargain indeed.

REVIEW: SAPAN @ Capital Fringe Festival

The South Asian Performing Arts Network and Institute put on a production with Capital Fringe on Saturday, 11 July; with a family member working back stage and an interest in delicious Indian food Indian culture, I decided to make this show my introduction to the Capital Fringe Festival. Compared to the other, more decidedly chic venues in the festival, the United Methodist Church of Chinatown proved an strange choice (though it was clean, spacious, and comfortable) but since that was handed down from higher up, we won't hold that against them.

The show begins with three young women in flowing costumes dancing to the music of a three-person chorus and a harmonium. I don't know what it is about their chant-like melody or the soothing white noise of the harmonium, but the entire experience was deeply relaxing and almost spiritual. The opening act gives way to more singing, dancing, music, and costume changes, and culminating with a vibrant couple's dance in the style of a Bollywood musical. Each segment begins with a brief video introducing the instruments, theme, and the cultural significance of the act to follow. This really brings in the audience and makes an otherwise niche cultural show more accessible to the general audience.

The transitions were often quite long, featuring several minutes of darkened silence, and exhibiting a low level of organization, but the quality of the production more than compensates and makes this a fun and enjoyable show.

I had the chance to join most of the cast afterward at Ella's Wood Fired Pizza on 9th between F and G and can vouch that they are a fun, chill group of kids.

Vittergate 2

In addition to using my dry-cleaner, LGB has learned that Senator David Vitter (R-LA) also shares my grocer. Milano cookies, crest toothpaste, and Ben & Jerry's Heath Bar Crunch rounded out this big-shot's shopping. Someone's got a sweet tooth.

And yet again, despite the fact that I'm in there every single day, the kindly Asian lady who works the cash machine asked to see my ID.

Bang Bang Maxwell

Well it looks like the constant police presence that surrounds my apartment on fortified Capitol Hill got a bit of action today. Within minutes of me leaving a Senate hearing (and spotting Vitter with his dry-cleaning), at 5PM U.S. Capitol Police shot and killed an armed motorist on the north (Senate) side of the Capitol. Sotomayor hearings briefly went into lock down.

The stain that won't come out.

Apparently I have the same dry-cleaner as Senator David Vitter (R-LA). I ran into him while picking up a suit and was surprised he (1) looked so old -- that scandal really took its toll -- and (2) didn't have some intern to pick up all those shirts for him.

Apparently my local guy is frequented by other big wigs. I'll keep my eyes out for you all.