blogging while flying

Is it like texting while driving?  This may be a first for me, blogging while hurtling through the skies on a silver bullet.  The only thing weird about it is the complete lack of privacy, with people all around who can look over my shoulder.  It never bothered me that Marcia could see my screen in class, but now I think I need to get one of those privacy screens.  Not that I have any secrets to impart, I'm just absurdly private about some things.  Yes, I do recognize the absurdity of thinking that something I'm putting on the internet is private in any way.

I just finished my book and not a mood to start another, two hours left before we get to SFO.  See you all soon!

home away from home

Almost time to pack up for tomorrow's journey home.  I have had this house completely to myself the entire time.  In fact, I have not seen a single person here since the first day, although I know someone was by today-my bed is made!

It's a little bit spooky being here entirely alone, and yet sort of cozy too.  There's a grand piano in the front room downstairs, a formal dining table set for 4 in the middle room and a fully equiped kitchen in the back.  My room is directly off the back stairs, which are steeper than the side of a volcano, but not as hard to climb.  My bathroom is downstairs by the kitchen, so mid-night sojourns come with a small element of risk if one is not awake enough to descend the mountain carefully.  Alternatively, there are front stairs.

The front porch is the best place to sit, you can watch all the neighborhood from there, and chat with the neighbors.  I still can't get over how nice everyone is.  It comes off as genuine, and yet I would imagine that they get more than their share of ignorant tourists.

bread crumbs and maps

I usually start out the day with some ideas about what I want to do and see, and then as the day unfolds, things change.  Today I meant to walk to the National Zoo-I did not realize how close it was to where I am staying-and get breakfast somewhere along the way.  Breakfast never happened: I passed up the place I ate yesterday in favor of something new and then I never found anything open.  The skies opened up as I was walking but even that was fun.  I just put on my dorky rainjacket, with my bag like a hump on my back behind me and my little purse like a growth on my side, and kept going.  Fortunately, it did not pour for long.  This is the only rain I have had, so I'm counting myself fortunate.

I spent very little time at the zoo, being morally conflicted about them, and almost all the exhibits closed due to the rain or construction.  I could not help but feel sorry for the orangutan I saw, and so I left.

I stopped in the bathroom, where a bunch of school kids were also stopped, and overheard a little boy of maybe 3rd grade ask the chaperone he was with-'what's this?", pointing at a dispenser of feminine hygiene products.  Probably the first time he's seen such a device.  The zoo is an educational place, for sure.

My plan was then to get the Metro to Foggybottom and either rent a bike or walk along the canal.  Alas, I got lost wandering about, and ended up someplace nameless.  However, it did have a Metro station, so I changed plans and decided to go to Eastern Market for lunch.  I got lost there too, but after having replenished my energy with a NY Coney hot dog.  The only time I've been cold this trip-sitting there damp from the rain in the air conditioned restaurant, wolfing down my hotdog so I could get back out in the damp and warm air.  After lunch, I thought I was walking toward the Capitol, but it turned out I was going the other direction.  Getting lost is half the fun, finding my way home is the other.

an expensive trip to the bookstore

No SCOTUS for me this morning, I stayed in bed instead.  Went in search of the Uzbek embassy but chickened out about walking up to the door and pushing the buzzer.

The embassies are grouped around Dupont Circle, and I had a good wander around there.  Stopped into the National Geographic Society building, just to see what I could see.  Eventually I found my way to a bookstore I had read about-turning the afternoon into an expedition in search of yet more treasures.  I shall have to buy a rollie.

peace at dusk

Last evening I ate at RedRocks Pizza, a trendy little place on a corner nearby, with a waiting list for outside seating but I got a seat inside by the window quite readily.  Sometimes when you are eating alone, you can see the irritation on the face of the wait staff.  A one top means a smaller tip but the loss of the table for the same amount of time, more or less.  I offered to sit at the bar, for that reason, but they gave me the window table anyway.

The concept of going out to eat alone is easy, it's the doing of it that requires a bit of working up one's nerve if the place is at all busy.  But who wants to eat where no one else eats?  If I were more gregarious, I would no doubt make friends of the people at the next table, but I'm not that outgoing, so often I sit quietly, either reading or people watching, and sometimes eavesdropping on the conversations around me.

Walking home I passed the bocce ball league players as they left the field across the street.  I wish I could capture the essence of that moment in words.  There was a cooling breeze taking the edge off the day's heat and humidity, dusk was falling, the street lights were just coming on.  The people I've come across here in DC have been almost without exception friendly and helpful and the world was at peace, or so it seemed.  The old lady two doors down was sitting out on the porch and she gave me her name and told me if there was anything I needed to know about DC, she could help me.  The dance club on the corner was just getting lively and the sounds of the city went on all around.

The desire to stay out and enjoy it was eventually overtaken, and off to bed I went.

the ethics of travel

I'm reading Owen Lattimore's The Desert Road to Pakistan, written in  the late 1920's.  He and his wife made an unforgettable trip across what was then Mongol country, partly by caravan, by cart and various other means of travel.  I had previously read Eleanor's Turkestan Reunion, and wanted more.

In his introduction, he talks about travellers who ignorant of the history, customs and language of the people among whom they travel, substitute adventure for the gathering of information and turned incompetence in the art of travel into 'endurance of hardship'.

My little 2 week trips smack of such laziness.  I can defend it by saying how busy I am, but the end result is that I know so little of the places that I go to visit.  This puts me squarely in the camp of the arrogant American that I do my best to distance myself from.  And yet...I will still travel, I must.  I think the greater harm for me would be not to go.

confessions of the common and uncultured

I am not a museum person.  I confess it, I often do not go to them at all, or if I do, I focus on the things I find interesting and feel completely free to skip all the culturally expanding things that do not draw me.

As many of  you will know, DC is full of museums, all free, and some very good.  So I am going to some...

I went to the American Indian Museum, because
a) I was very hungry after racing to Lynn Woolsey's office for a tour of the Capitol building (a tour group of one, how very nice)
b) It was very close by and I was quite warm
c)  Clay had told me about the wonderful ethnic food cafe they have

All very high brow reasons to visit a museum.

Then I went to the Holocaust Museum.  The shoes, the shoes, the shoes.  That is what slew me.  I'll leave it at that, to say more is cheap and redundant.

la fila

I got to the Supreme Court at 7:30 this morning (they start oral arguments at 10), I was #105 in line, which meant I might get in, as there are about 150 seats in the visitor gallery.  Ah, no, that was not to be, all of the seats were taken by special guests, friends of the court, etc.  So I got in for 3 minutes, and got to hear the Chief Justice and another Justice (I could not see very well) grilling the lawyer presenting her case, about what effect her side's position would have on the right to free speech.  For those in my law classes, close your eyes and imagine a cross of Ravitch/Illsley.  Such an ordinary discussion and yet not at all ordinary!  I was left hungering for more after that little taste.  There is one more day of oral argument tomorrow, and I have to decide if I want to get up and get over there at 5:30, just to wait for 4.5 hours and maybe be told I still can't get in.  It's the last day of this year's session, so it's likely to be popular.  It is supposed to rain tomorrow, so that may influence the decision.  Any suggestions?

the dinner stroll

I took a walk down Columbia to the Adams-Morgan neighborhood (Clay, do you know this area?) for dinner.  David, the owner of this quaint little place, recommended a Brazilian place, so I went...and went...and went...  In fairness, he did tell me the blocks were very long.  The 1700 block went on for 3 blocks, no kidding! The lovely old row houses oozing character gave way to fairly ugly blocks of apartments and then those gave way to upscale apartment buildings, and the mix of people changed along with the housing.

I was sitting out on the sidewalk having dinner, and the two ladies at the next table were discussing their unmarried girlfriend.  I heard phrases like sexy heels and pretty soon it had moved to sarcasm and cup sizes.  Ah, the things that we assume no one can hear!

Walking back in the dusk, people still out on the stoops and children playing on the walk, it felt like a slow summer evening that would never end.  I find myself picking up the cadence of the people, and walking as they do.  Have you ever noticed that people in different places have different walking styles, mannerisms and ways deemed polite?

things aren't what they seem

This place I'm staying at is eclectic and interesting.  The neighborhood is made up mostly of older brick row houses, all attached, but each one a different color or type of brick, all 3 stories high.  On the corner just a few doors down is a bar and dance club with a lot of tables outside.  The weather is in the 80's here, so everyone is out of doors, either sitting on the stoop, playing soccer across the street or sitting down on 14th St making drug deals and waiting for the bus home.

When I got here, I had to open a lock box for my keys, and then wrestle my way through the locked gate and the deadbolted front door.  Makes going and coming a truly intended act-too much work otherwise!

My room is tiny but full of character, and it has a small balcony on which I am sitting right now.  A gentleman that I took to be a handy man said something about running late and he was working on putting in a window air conditioner.  He was in old jeans and an old stained t-shirt, funny the assumptions we make.  So I told him I'd be going out for a while, and he could finish it, and then as I was leaving, he asked me where I was from.  The 'handyman' turns out to be a surgeon turned general clinic doctor, from LA, medical school in Michigan, and then he did a postdoctorate fellowship in South Africa that changed his life.  And here he is, owning and working on this little place.  I don't know if anyone else is staying here right now, I have seen no one else.

I bought a little pocket camera and will post some photos of this neighborhood.  It's intriguing, colorful and just a bit daunting.  Somehow it's easier to walk about in a foreign country where I have no idea what people are saying.  People are friendly, I got help from a couple of different people to find my way here.

Tomorrow morning early I will find breakfast and then go to stand in line at the Supreme Court, in the hopes of getting in to watch a session.  Arguments are being heard tomorrow in Sorrell v IMS Health, a medical privacy case.  These links will give you information about the case.  Since tomorrow is the only day of the ones that I am here that the court is sitting for oral argument, I am going early, I really do not want to miss this.

http://www.scotusblog.com/case-files/cases/sorrell-v-ims-health-inc/

http://www.medpagetoday.com/PublicHealthPolicy/GeneralProfessionalIssues/26105

Off to explore some more...

cats and rules to live by

I was considering my personal rules of engagement recently and discovered a few things about myself.  Setting aside the golden rule as perhaps obvious, what else governs your interactions with the world around you?  About now you are wondering what this has to do with a trip to DC.  It has nothing to do with DC and everything to do with traveling.  Travel makes me introspective, perhaps because I'm spending so much time talking to myself.

It's warm and humid here, which is just fine with me.  Every single child in the US is on the lawn in front of the White House.  In case you think you know where your child is, I can tell you, you are wrong.  Thousands of little people all dressed in their spring finery, for the annual egg roll and other festivities.

Since I've been here for all of 5 or 6 hours, I can draw a few conclusions.  The sense of things happening is palpable, and it sort of amps you up a bit.  There are a lot of good looking men here (and children in their Easter clothes, but not necessarily together).

I think if I were like a cat and had nine lives, I'd consider living one of them in the eye of the political storm, either here or another such center.  Not as a politician, but as an insider, a staffer, a maker of things to happen.  But as of now, that would probably be life #9....which makes me consider the other 8.  What would your nine lives be?

only a little trip

I am headed off to Washington DC this evening for 5 days, and since I've become addicted to blogging, I thought I would bring those along who want to go.

The packing process was a winnowing down, to the bare essentials.  Not even taking my camera this time, there is just not room.  But maybe I'll pick up a small pocket size one.  One small backpack and a teeny tiny purse.  The greatest difficulty was reducing the books.  Ended up taking out more clothes so I could take an extra book.

I'm looking forward to some wandering and exploring, forgetting the everyday world.