Four years ago, I took the reins of a brand new fledgling city blog. In that time, I’ve come to meet a whole host of awesome people, written a whole lot about DC, and gotten to love the city I once was ready to leave, having shaken the dirt from my feet in disgust. I’ve made some incredible friends while blogging here, and learned a lot about how to run a blog, and how not to run one. Where am I going? No, I’m not leaving DC, and I’m not leaving the blogging world either. I’m leaving Metroblogging to strike out on my own. My new project is called We Love DC, and will feature many of the writers you know and love from this site, in a new format.

Thanks also to all those who’ve written here these last four years. Thanks to those who’ve commented here and made it a community all its own. Thanks to all the other captains in all the other cities I’ve gotten to know.

Now, though, it is time to move on from Metroblogging and to let this canvas be writ anew. I have nothing but thanks for Sean Bonner for creating this network, to Jason Defillippo for his incredible coding skills, to Mack Reed for wrangling the Captains and keeping them fed and happy, and to Richard Ault for making the deals that keep the network running smooth. You guys have done amazing things, and I’m sure we’ll continue to see fruits of your work.

Good night, Metblogs DC, and Good Luck.

Fireworks #1 — Originally Uploaded by Camera Slayer

The all-staff email went out last week: “We recently learned that the DC Government is now enforcing its recycling regulations. Inspectors are making unannounced inspections and issuing warnings for failure to recycle. Second violations are subject to fines. As we know, the DC government is in need of funds so we can expect enforcement to be serious…”

Since I work on our website and just don’t generate much paper waste, I made mental note of what common items in my cube would go into which containers (soda cans mostly, like any self-respecting geek), assumed that the promised at-desk recycling boxes would once again not make it to me, and didn’t think about it again.

Until yesterday, that is. Our Vice President of Facilities and Property came to my cube around 4:30 yesterday, and said, “Hi Tiffany, how’s your trash?”

“Um, empty, mostly…” I pulled my trash can out, displaying the two items inside: a used sub shop napkin and a square of paper.

“What’s THAT?” she said, indicating the non-napkin item.

“Oh, it’s a page from this calendar here,” I indicated my Page-A-Day calendar. Coated paper, questionably recyclable.

“Okay, great.” She walked away.

And then I noticed the email she had sent shortly before- a DC Recycling Inspector was going to be visiting our building the next day and would be issuing fines for any violations.

Let me clarify- an employee of the DC government, paid by tax dollars, would be entering our office for the purpose of poking at our trash cans. And let’s not pretend this is about the environment: the inspector could fine us for throwing away recyclable material, but at the end of the complex list of what is and is not appropriate in recycle bins, DC admonishes us “WHEN IN DOUBT, LEAVE IT OUT.”

But that’s how it came to pass that this very morning, before the arrival of the inspector, the Senior Director of my division came around to each individual member of our department, and delivered a perfunctory speech about how our organization takes recycling very seriously both for environmental and fine-avoidance reasons, and that complying with company procedures is the responsibility of every employee.

I’m so delighted that commitment to efficient stewardship of our resources extends to how DC businesses must spend the time of their well-compensated executives.

If you were wondering, we passed our recycling inspection perfectly. In fact, only one tenant in th building was fined for recycling violations- an office of the DC Government.

The Goddess of Recycling

Originally uploaded by His and Hers Parigi

Screen on the Green’s schedule is now out for 2008, featuring one of my favorite Bond flicks, Superman, and Cary Grant will take turns making DC’s hot summer nights a great place to be. Mondays starting in Late July and early August will feature films on a giant screen set up on the Mall between 4th and 7th street. Bring a picnic, catch a free movie, enjoy some outdoors time. Movies start around 8pm or so.

Here’s the schedule:

July 14th - Dr. No

July 21st - The Candidate

July 28th - Arsenic and Old Lace

August 4th - The Apartment

August 11th - Superman

Unless your office is deep within the bowels of a bunker, you know there’s a major weather system making a bum’s rush through the DC area. I was driving back from a PT appointment in Springfield when the deluge hit my car. I’ve been through some nasty storms on the Plains, and this one ranks right up there with those. The rain was coming down in sheets, pouring sideways into my car at 30-50mph, judging by how much the cars were rocking near us. The light at Keene Mill and 395 was a real long one, as cars were hoping it would just pass by. Traffic up 395 plodded along at 45mph, heading northward into the system. Most cars were doing the right thing and flashing their hazards as the rain drenched the approach into the District.

I pulled off 395, grateful to have missed what was the worst part of the storm to the North of the city. We had several tree limbs down in Fairlington, and they were major limbs not just little branches. The guys from the association were out in their jeepneys to move the limbs off the road and keep it all clear.

Not to be too dramatic, but there are two potential systems that could hit the city later today, so I don’t think we’re quite out of the woods. A little before 4pm, one system was halfway between Charleston, WV and the Virginia/WV border, and another on the Ohio/WV border and both are on straight-line paths for DC, if conditions hold up.

Just a quick reminder for storm behavior:

If the Light is Out, it’s a Four Way Stop. If a traffic signal is out, STOP at the intersection, THEN proceed. Don’t be a jackass and blow right through like it’s not there.

In the event of a Tornado, Seek Shelter If you can see a funnel cloud, or there is one in your area head for the basement. Barring a basement, get as low as you can, and as central as possible to the house.

Don’t be out unless you have to be. In a storm like this, get inside. Don’t be that guy driving around looking for intrigue.

That’s assuming that ‘you’ are a Marylander - or sometimes drink in Maryland - and like those fruity near-beers. No, when the WaPo ran this annoying editorial last week they called them ‘alcopops,’ which is evocative of popsicle to me, but presumably they mean it in the sense of ’soda pop.’ “But the truth is that the beverages — Smirnoff Ice, Mike’s Hard Lemonade and the like — are not beer by any reasonable definition,” said the editorial.

Unfortunately they don’t explain exactly what “by any reasonable definition” means. I’ve always known them to be called “near-beer,” a description that hinges on the fact that these products are sold in single-serving containers like beer and have similar alcohol content to regular beer, and are malted beverages, like - wait for it - beer. When Marc Fisher picked up the banner for this anti-adult effort yesterday he claimed that Attorney General Doug Gansler based his decision on a federal study claiming most of the alcohol in these drinks came from distilled spirits, not malted grain. Too bad that’s a 2003 study and in late 2004 the ATTB published a ruling that going forward these drinks would get the majority of their alcohol content from malting. Not to call any of these lobbying groups or editorialists liars - that would imply they’re making these statements out of malice and with full knowledge it’s not true, rather than just ignorance,willful or otherwise.

That aside, most importantly to almost any rational person, the same report makes it clear that the total alcohol content is roughly the same as in beer: 4 to 6%. Unless we’re regulating beer and hard liquor differently for some other reason that nobody’s told me? If it’s all about taste, then I propose we put in place a proper taste tax and bring Guinness and Sam Adams’ Summer Wheat down to 0.01% and mark Coors and Zima up to 150%. Or maybe 1500%, though drinking them is really its own punishment.

Barring that, WaPo and Fisher would both do well to back off from trying to beat up adults who like this swill near-beer and stop penalizing them for having similar tastebuds to the pimple-faced crowd. The morals brigade leading this fight likes to harp on the fact that the alcohol industry’s own data shows that over 40% of the stuff is drunk by the 21 to 27 crowd, the implication being that under 21 folk will like it too. However they seem to be ignoring the fact that those 21 to 27 year olds are of a perfectly legal age to drink and probably lower earners, therefor similarly impacted by this foolish tax proposal.

Fisher and others don’t seem to think that you voting-aged legal drinkers matter in this. “Will the lovers of Smirnoff Ice and its competitors rally to the governor’s side to thank him for keeping their favorite beverages cheap? Hardly likely.” So prove him wrong and make some noise. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be marginally embarrassed to publicly admit you drink this crap, but myself and other people who believe in freedom will stand behind you. With our better drinks.

Hard Times, courtesy of furryscaly

17 officers fired from the Metropolitan Police Department for misconduct were rehired by the department, because of bureaucratic failures within the internal affairs department. They missed a deadline or two, and as a result, arbitrators and the courts have forced Chief Lanier to rehire 17 officers not fit for duty. They were fired initially for reasons including lying about their hours, and accessing private citizens’ information and making it public with suggestions to investigate the individuals, on internet sites not associated with the police department.

Wait. We’re rehiring 17 bad cops because the department can’t get their shit together to file some papers? Epic fail, Chief Lanier. Epic fail.

What can I tell you about The Shakespeare Theater Company’s productions of Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra? You don’t come here for Shakespeare criticism and I’m not up to the challenge. There’s some things to say about the players on stage - Suzanne Bertish is spot-on, Andrew Long, Aubrey K. Deeker, Dan Kremer and all the other locals are good as well - but so what? We know STC isn’t going to put any stinkers up on stage and truth be told, if you’re inclined to go see either of these plays you’re probably not going to see any one person. These are not the avenues to catch a tour de force blow-the-doors-off piece of acting - the roles don’t lend themselves to it and they’re both huge ensembles - I stopped counting during the Julius Caesar curtain call when I got to the thirtieth performer.

So then, what can I tell you? Odds are good you read one or both of these in your high school careers, and they haven’t changed. Nor has STC altered their placement in time or location: these are the Roman plays as they were written; no movement to World War I or modern day New York City. Both have the same problem for us as modern audiences as they did for us then - it’s hard to find someone to root for in Julius Caesar, as full of connivers and killers as it is, or Antony and Cleopatra, with person after person making foolish and impulsive decisions.

You either are or are not the kind of person interested in seeing one of these plays, so what I say won’t sway you on the merits of the text. What I can tell you is that if you’re inclined to go, you’re going to be satisfied. If you’re not inclined, there’s not going to be something new or unusual there to overcome your reluctance. Somewhere in the world someone is going to stage Julius Caesar in a way to draw the parallel to American preemptive Middle-Eastern intervention, with Brutus and most of his cohorts being prodded into making a well-meaning decision by an arrogant and petty Cassius who’s been spending too much time on the New American Century website. Once they go down that bloody road they’ll discover that the aftermath isn’t as easy and painless as they expected and not everyone is convinced that their reasons were sound or sufficient.

This is not that production of Julius Caesar.

Neither is this Antony and Cleopatra evocative of a modern married government leader who thinks with parts south of the border and makes decisions that endanger his position to the point where he finds himself at odds with his peers and fighting to hold on to his power.

What these are, instead, are faithful classic productions set in the Harman’s lovely spaces with fairly minimal but highly effective staging. Caesar goes little beyond tapestries and hangings, where Antony and Cleopatra add some tables and pieces that more evoke a ship than represent it. The costuming is stunning and the music near perfect. There’s only two quibbles I’d make, both with the production of Julius Caesar, but they’re minor.

The boxes at the back of the Harman’s stage are a nice location for semi-hidden participants like percussionist Martin Desjardins normally, but during parts where performers are on the upper level he’s a little too prominent. If you’re not an actor I don’t feel like I should be able to discern your facial expressions during the production - it’s distracting. More bothersome but come and gone more rapidly is the bit of foolishness that someone felt they needed to pop into the scene where Brutus and Cassius face off across the battlefield from Octavius and Antony. While Antony is supposed to be a bit cavalier and light-hearted, it’s jarring to see him good around while eating and apple while Brutus and Cassius determine if they’re going to enter into a bloody battle. Having him wordlessly and goofilly offer the man who they’ve just determined to fight a bite before walking back to his own camp is just grating, particularly so short a time after we’ve seen him deliver an impassioned speech about his friend who was murdered by the very person he’s trying to share his snack with.

These are little things, however, and won’t ruin your experience if it’s one you want to have.

Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra
Sidney Harman Hall 610 F Street NW, Washington, DC 20004
through July 6th, 2008.

Last night, we went up to Charm City to catch The Swell Season (Warning, Plays Music) at Meyerhoff Symphony Hall, nominally the home of the BSO. Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, fresh off their win of the Oscar for Best Original Song from Once.

Hansard & Irglova brought three instrumentalists from The Frames, making for a sextet of considerable talent. Colm Mac Con Iomaire joined the group on violin, as well. I was incredibly impressed by the balance in the Meyerhoff. I’ve seen amplified shows in concerts halls go horribly awry, but last night’s sound was nothing short of incredible.

I’m excited to pick up the show when it ends up on Played Last Night later this week, as it featured multiple new songs, and a killer cover of Van Morrison.

If you missed the show on Saturday night at the Meyerhoff, don’t fret, they’re playing V Fest at Pimlico in August. And, of course, if you just want to see the great space at the Meyerhoff, the BSO is playing all summer.

Swell Season — Originally uploaded by girlzone41

Okay, I’m going to come right out and do something I hate people doing, myself. Fire up the hypocrite comment-engine, because here I go.

WTOP points out that DC Area Drivers are 5th in the nation for road rage. All I can say is, “Guys, really, chances are, the people who are driving like major league asshats are probably doing so in Maryland and Virginia plates.” It sucks that the District gets the bad PR for all these guys who live in Reston, or Springfield, or Gaitherburg, or Laurel and drive like complete idiots.

Most of the folks I know who live in the District commute either by bus or metro, though I do on occasion see DC Plates on the major thoroughfares in rush hour, it tends to be the crazy-ass mofo from Maryland or Virginia making everyone else’s life difficult.

Not to say that DC drivers are all that great, far from it, they’re just not causing the road rage you see every day on the Beltway, 395, 270, the B-W Parkway, etc.

Entering A Road Rage Zone — Originally uploaded by garyturner

To my surprise, DC has an extant, long lasting infoshop!

That may not ring any bells among those of you who didn’t go to college with a bunch of radical anarchists who shouted “fuck the police!” and “smash the state!” Frankly, it’s not part of my world anymore either–once I left college, I slowly drifted away from punks and DIYers who created their own zines and would wheat-paste fliers on walls around town after dark.

I’m not sure what an infoshop is technically meant to be, but the one I hung around in Berkeley, CA was a place where you could stay all day, reading books about ending speciesism or acting up against the military-industrial complex, and then have a meal of second-hand brown bread and vegan soup. And where the shelves were packed with homemade zines about folks’ adventures and thoughts. Kinda like paper blogs. No, make that just like paper blogs.

I’m not making fun of these places. It’s the greatest thing when people’s ideals push them to actually do something rather than just talk about it. It’s just such a walk down memory lane for me, though, that I have to laugh.

So DC’s infoshop is exactly like the one in Berkelely, only smaller. And the people are friendlier! And there are signs on the wall urging support for activists who are now in jail. I don’t remember that from my college years.

Technically this infoshop is called the Brian Mackenzie Infoshop, after a local activist who died while trying to make the place a reality.

Go check it out; smile and the folks there will smile back. It’s in the middle of nowhere, 1426 9th st NW (by P, I think) and it’s generally open noon-9pm Weds-Sun. Call at 202-986-0681 if you want to be sure they’re there before you come.