Perennial Candidates or Hope Springs Eternal

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When I was a kid growing up in Atlanta, the name Wyman C. Lowe seemed to be on the ballot in every election.  He first ran for Congress in 1946 and kept putting his name on the ballot for various federal and state offices in practically every election cycle well until the mid 1980s.  And he lost -- every single time.  It's hard to fathom what makes one so persistently hopeful in the face of constant rejection -- although thank goodness for that. Lowe was an unrepentant racist and anti-Semite and apparently did not have a winning message even when such views might have been welcome.

All of this is a long wind up to the current day political aspirations of Rodney "Red" Grant, a comic, actor, writer, and producer, who recently announced that he would be running for DC Council At-Large. His signs are cropping up around town, some nine months ahead of the November election. While the stakes in the election are high nationally with both the presidency and balance of power in Congress up for grabs, locally, it's going to be a bit of a snoozer with the only seats up for grabs being nonvoting delegate of the U.S. House of Representatives, shadow senators and representatives (more on that when I write at some point about D.C. statehood), and two at-large seats on the Council.

But back to Grant who ran for DC mayor in 2022 as an independent, garnering 14.9 percent of the vote against incumbent Muriel Bowser.  His platform from back then seems pretty mom and apple pie -- less crime, better schools, more support for small business.  But it's not clear to me who his constituency, particularly that this time, he's running as a Democrat and will face incumbent Robert White in the primary. I've yet to see a sign for White, although some yards are still sporting signs from his 2022 mayoral run and someone knocked on our door last week collecting signatures to get him on the ballot.  But we'll see how the race shapes up:  the deadline to file is March 6 and the Democratic primary is June 4.  

Presidents' Day

Happy Monday when we conveniently have a long weekend and a celebration of the birthdays of George Washington (who was born February 22, 1732) and Abraham Lincoln (who was born on February 12, 1809).  No one much seems to notice that two other US presidents were born in February -- William Henry Harrison and Ronald Reagan -- and perhaps for good reason.  

Washington is replete with memorials and monuments to presidents and today's honorees have plum spots on the National Mall with the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial. Both are worth introductory and repeat visits, but there are also two other local spots where one can soak in the history of these two men:  Mount Vernon and the Lincoln Cottage. Interestingly, neither of these are owned or managed by the National Park Service (so be prepared to book ahead and pay for tickets) and both take a little bit of effort to visit.  But don't let that dissuade you from doing so. 

Mount Vernon sits on the banks of the Potomac, some 17 miles south of Washington and about 10 miles south of Old Town Alexandria, which was a bustling port in Washington's time.  It is owned by the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association of the Union, and the first time I visited, the interpretation was about what you might expect from a group with such a name. But some time in the mid 2000s, the ladies upped their game, bringing in professional curators and historians so that the site now provides a more robust educational experience. While there is definitely a tone of hero worship here, there is now more context for his life and work, including the operations of the plantation which was maintained by hundreds of enslaved people. The setting is stunning and the grounds provide an enjoyable stroll through woodlands and farmland. The house is elegant but surprisingly small, especially in comparison to the residences of European royalty at the time. 

The Lincoln Cottage is in Washington proper although in Lincoln's day, it was considered out of town and he used it as a retreat, close enough to the White House to allow a daily commute but removed enough to be away from the noise and odors of the city and to catch a coolish breeze on a hot summer night.  Built  in 1842 on the site that ten years later became the Soldier's Home, it today abuts Rock Creek Church Cemetery (which is worth a visit as well). The guided visit takes about an hour and you may learn some things that were absent from your high school history lesson. Notably, the organization that owns and manages the site has made a major commitment to education, using Lincoln's life and work as a springboard to contemporary discussion about liberty, equality, and social justice. (But you can also rent it for your wedding or corporate retreat.)

Both sites are open daily but it's probably smart to book ahead. 

Life is Like a Box of Chocolates

I had a total hip replacement 10 days ago which means I've pretty much been confined to home, getting my steps in by laps around kitchen, dining room, and living room. I cannot complain -- my pain level is manageable, my surgeon is skilled, and my husband is an attentive caregiver. I had the right side done a year ago with great results so I'm expecting the same on the left. Still, getting out and about is taking a back seat to rehab and recovery.

So while I have no new content on things to do and see locally, I can share a recommendation—one that might come in handy with Valentine’s Day coming up on Wednesday. 

Friends who live in northern Virginia came for dinner a few weeks ago and brought a box of chocolates from Artisan Confections as a bread-and-butter gift. Now, I'm not really a chocolate gal. Given the choice between vanilla and chocolate ice cream, I will always pick vanilla.  Same for apple pie and chocolate mousse -- apple pie wins every time. That said, these chocolates are absolutely delicious with complex flavors; plus, as you can see, each is a miniature work of art. Fortunately the box came with guide that identifies each confection. I spent a lot of time perusing it every time I made a selection although in the end, not one went uneaten.

Although I have lived in DC for 40 years, I still have a mental block against driving in Northern Virginia. There are certain places that I know how to get to such as National Airport and my husband's old office in Ballston. En route to other destinations, I'm as likely to end up in the Pentagon parking lot than wherever I'm supposed to be. It's completely irrational because it's only distant psychologically. 

But I may have to overcome my mental block for a trip to Artisan Confections. The website lists two locations:  1025 N. Fillmore Street near the Clarendon Metro (I think I can handle that) and 1333 Chain Bridge Road in McLean (all bets are off particularly since there is also a 1333 Old Chain Bridge Road).

Four stars.  Highly recommend.

The Future of Orchids

I've always found February to be a rather grim month. Even though all that January snow melted and the days are getting longer, the skies seem perpetually gray and the sun is still low on the horizon.  

Fortunately, the Smithsonian Gardens have come through with an exhibit, The Future of Orchids, that will lift the spirit while we wait for spring. Presented in the Kogod Courtyard at the National Portrait Gallery and the Smithsonian American Art Museum, this display of 350 plants includes both spectacular live varieties and more fanciful imagined ones, the work of Baltimore-based artist Phaan Howng. With apologies to the curators, I'll admit that I didn't spend much time on my visit reading the signage; I was simply too dazzled by the orchids (both real and faux) themselves.

I love this courtyard, a wonderful respite from the hustle and bustle of the neighborhood.  There's a cafe if you want a bite to eat, but if you brown bag it, or bring in something from other eateries, no one seems to care. Whenever I go, there's always a toddler or two eager to be set free from their strollers, small groups of colleagues engaged in discussion, and plenty of singles -- eating, reading or just enjoying a moment of peace.

The day I was there last week, there were preparations underway for some kind of evening event but the setting was still serene and welcoming.  Those who have visited the British Museum in London will note that this is the work of the same architect, Norman Foster.

The orchids are on display until April 28th. The building is open daily from 11:30 am to 7:00 pm.  As always, admission is free.

And a few more orchids......

Creatures Among Us

 

My neighborhood is within the city limits of the District of Columbia but it has the distinct feel of an older suburb: single family houses with yards (albeit small ones), lots of big trees, and as it turns out, more wildlife than you might expect. This weekend, on my walk to CVS, I spotted this black vulture perched on the dumpster in the alley. There's a small, high-end grocer there which touts its butcher. I've never dropped any money there -- it's so expensive and my meat eating is modest -- but I'm guessing that the vultures value the scraps. 

It got me to thinking about the wildlife in our midst. We have the usual squirrels (both gray and black), raccoons, opossums, and rabbits, plus lots of crows, starlings, robins, blue jays, and the occasional goldfinch. Since the pandemic, we've seen more and more red foxes walking boldly down the street in the early morning hours. I hear that there are coyotes in Rock Creek Park though I've never seen one.  Nor have I been privy to the occasional black bear sitings; last summer there was one in the Brookland neighborhood in Northeast and another was captured in the northern reaches of Chevy Chase in the Maryland suburbs.

Still, it's always a bit jarring to see wild creatures in this setting, given the amount of people and cars. I caught this photo of a Cooper's hawk on our fence back in February 2021. 

For more DC centric wild bird content, you should definitely check out Popville (formerly known as the Prince of Petworth) and its intermittent feature, Hawks around Town.

I understand that deer like to live on the edge of the forest which has made them a bit of nuisance in many areas that abut the woods. I caught the photo of a big buck back in July 2020, just about a half a mile from my house in area where there is a small strip of woods between the road and a local park with soccer and baseball fields. 

I will leave you with a pic of these very good boys patiently waiting while their owner filled a prescription.

Snow

Like they needed this sign.

We got about seven inches of snow last week, spread out over two days (Monday and Friday), the first snowfall exceeding one inch in over two years. 

I gotta say that I don't really love snow -- I mean, I like how it looks when it's falling and every branch and every leaf has a lovely coating. But even 40 years after leaving my Southern childhood home and experiencing a couple of big snowfalls each season, I still haven't conquered the skill of driving in snow or developed a love of winter sport. Happily now as an empty nester, I don't have to fret about whether DC public schools will make the 5 am call to close or have a two-hour delay, or watch my kids go to bed with pajamas turned inside out in hopes that the next day will be good for sledding. And as a retiree, I don't have to trudge to the Metro, picking my way along the sidewalks which certain neighbors never shovel. In any case, I am happiest when it snows and then two days later, it's all gone.

I also don't have a lot of patience for the people who moved here from Buffalo or Chicago or places where the snow piles up in feet rather than inches. You like snow -- good for you! But stop berating the locals for the inevitable rush to the grocery store, the fact that the city generally shuts down when there's more than a couple inches, and when people skid off the road into a ditch. (Okay, maybe bully those drivers for not driving more carefully or just staying home.). It's tiresome and honestly no one cares.

I tried to get some pictures  of the snow but it's hard when all you really want to do is stay inside, cuddled up with a good book and a mug of tea, and maybe exert oneself enough to make soup or cookies.  But what could be more peak DC than a teeny tiny snowman (snow person? snow creature?) with a political yard sign or an icy sidewalk.  

In any case, I am hopeful that by the time you read this, the temperatures will be back above freezing and all of this white stuff will soon be a distant memory.

Reflections on MLK Day

Funeral procession for Martin Luther King, Jr., April 9, 1968

There are dates in history that are seared in our minds -- John F. Kennedy's assassination, the moon landing, Nixon's resignation, the failed launch of the Challenger space shuttle, and 9/11. I was too young to remember JFK's death and I slept right through the moon landing, even though I had asked my mom to wake me up so I could see the astronauts take those first steps. The others are vivid in my memory.

My first memory of a public event was Martin Luther King's funeral in 1968, not so much because I knew he was a great man who had been murdered, but because my parents left us with a babysitter that afternoon so they could join the tens of thousands who walked in the procession through the streets of downtown Atlanta. A couple of years later, I was miffed that my grandparents, who came to hear me present a report on King Henry VIII to my 5th grade class, were more interested in the fact that my classmate, Dexter King, the younger of MLK's two sons, was lying on the floor under a table in the living room section of our classroom, than in my carefully researched work. 

These memories are of course colored now by my grownup understanding of King's work. And thankfully given that his birthday is a national holiday, this is not forgotten (although sometimes terribly misinterpreted in bad faith). Today, the airwaves and newspapers will be full of tributes and I'm sure we'll be hearing plenty of "I have a dream" and "injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere" as the appreciations roll out.  

But for me, the words of Dr. King that resonate most deeply, with both admiration and some measure of embarrassment, are from his "Letter from a Birmingham Jail," written in April 1963 after his arrest in the course of nonviolent demonstrations against racism and racial segregation. In his letter, addressed to the city’s white clergy, King admonishes them for doing too little too late – for not throwing their shoulders behind the wheel, for not using their power to bring about true justice.

“I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to “order” than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action”; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a “more convenient season..."

 

“I felt that the white ministers, priests and rabbis of the South would be among our strongest allies. Instead, some have been outright opponents….all too many others have been more cautious than courageous and have remained silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained glass windows.”

Ouch. 

So today, when you hear the words delivered at the March on Washington, on receipt of the Nobel Peace Prize, or any other occasion, remember that we (and particularly those of us who are privileged) are called to do more than just honor Dr. King. We are also called to do more than write checks, read and reflect, and go to the occasional march or protest. These are all fine but they are not sufficient. The work of justice requires us to get off the sidelines and get into the thick of it now, and not when most convenient; to speak up even when it may seem embarrassing or feel impolite; to listen and support our neighbors who are fighting for things that many of us take for granted.

One of the most meaningful things I've been doing in retirement is becoming more actively involved in the Washington Interfaith Network, an organization comprised of dozens of houses of worship across DC, where we are challenged to build deep relationships -- across race and across faith --  and work productively to build affordable housing, improve the conditions of public housing, strengthen opportunities for Black homeownership, address threats posed by climate change, and address the epidemic of gun violence that is shattering many communities in Washington. 

The work can be slow and it can be frustrating, but even so, it is also soul strengthening. It's something else to sit in the sanctuary at Metropolitan AME Church and listen to the powerful words of its pastor, Rev. William Lamar, surrounded by others who are in common cause. It's stirring to listen to the choir at Varick Memorial in Ward 7 and then cheer on neighborhood residents as they demand specific actions of city council members. And it is joyful to celebrate WIN's wins with people from all these different congregations, most of whom I would otherwise never meet.

We are still a long way from Dr. King's vision of the beloved community. But engaging in direct action and doing more than, as he said, "mouth pious irrelevancies and sanctimonious trivialities" seems like a pretty decent start.