Thursday, April 28, 2005

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Some Chicks Don't Dig Me

An e-mail from a coworker:

Wow. So what you're saying is that you lied to me? First you weren't going and now you are? Right. You come here and cause a wage gap andthen you LIE?

All of you men are the same: screw up salaries and then lie to us. Whatever. Forget it. I'm gonna become a lez.

Oh wait. I am.

Monday, April 25, 2005


One evening last summer I was driving on Military Road through Rock Creek Park when I stopped at a red light behind another car. A D.C. police car pulled up along side of the car in front of me.

When the light changed the police car's lights went on and it pulled out behind the first car. Once across the intersection he slowed down so that I had to come to a complete stop. I'd have pulled out to go around him, I thought he was pulling over the car in front of me, but a white Cutlass had stopped along side of me blocking me in. With the guard rail on my left there was no place to go.

It was at that moment that my car was illuminated from behind and I realized that there was a second police car back there. We sat there like that just long enough for me to imagine that I would be told to get out of the car and lie face down on the wet asphalt, when the hispanic looking driver of the Cutlass, wearing a football jersey, waved his arm out the window in a forward motion. With a police car in front of me and a police car behind me and hardly enough room between the Cutlass and the car in front to squeeze my car through, I just sat still rather than take a suggestion from a curious bystander.

This seemed to irritate the Cutlass driver who next pulled a police badge out of his jersey and yelled something incomprehensible. Taking the cue that I was about to get into trouble for not being a wanted criminal, I pulled forward and made my way through the space between the Cutlass and the front police car and then went along my way towards home.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

A Prairie Home Companion

Last week while the boy was staying with me, my uncle flew-in for a visit. I told the boy that my uncle was visiting from Minnesota, and the boy replied: "Minnesota. I know that show on the radio. I listen to it every Saturday at 7:00."

Thursday, April 21, 2005

The Anti-Atkins Diet

Regular readers will recall that I recently asked the question "So, what does he eat?" about the boy's diet. I have discovered the answer: he only eats high carbohydrate foods. Since Tuesday morning he's eaten oatmeal, Cheerios, hummous, and french fries. He has refused every offer of meat or green vegetables. He did eat a quantity of pistachios yesterday and some very spicy fried tofu that his father made. Perhaps this is how he is fueling his current growth spurt; he's become a tall, lanky kid. I'm imagining a future NBA player here.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Cafe Luna

Cafe Luna is part of a business empire that also include Skewers and Luna Books. It is a quirkily decorated basement level restaurant with a small patio dining area out front. The walls feature paintings and photographs for sale by local artists. I've been there after church or in the evening for one of there half-priced nights on many occassions.

I frequently have an omelette at Cafe Luna. I enjoy omelettes and I've always had good ones there. This past Sunday afternoon I had the omelette special: an omelette with spinach, feta, red bell pepers, and mushrooms. The omelette tasted good despite being overcooked. An omelette should be yellow and it should glisten. Mine had been browned. It came with a thick cut of 7 grain toast and homefries, both of which I also enjoyed. I washed it down with two cups of coffee for which I only paid $1.50.

Cafe Luna offers half-priced pizzas on Sunday and Wednesday evenings, and half-priced pasta on Mondays, and half-priced bottles of wine on Tuesdays. Cafe Luna is located at 1633 P Street next to Steadman Park. It is open seven days per week for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Friday, April 08, 2005

Le Bon Cafe

After a little counter-demonstration yesterday afternoon, I headed off for lunch with an intern from my office. We were on Capitol Hill and she suggested Le Bon Cafe on Second street, S.E., a place she discovered while taking breaks from doing research at the Library of Congress.

Le Bon Cafe is a charming little cafe with small, round, marble-top tables, and a simple menu on a chalkboard: soups, sandwhiches, salads, coffees and pastries. I ordered a mushroom and vegetable soup with a half sandwhich: mozzarella, basil, tomato, and pesto. The intern ordered a tuna sandwich that came with a small serving of boiled and seasoned red potatoes.

I sampled her red potatos, they were good, but I declined her offer to try the tuna fish sandwhich. I don't like the taste of canned tuna fish. My soup was a savory puree of mushrooms and broth. My sandwhich was very good; the pesto and basil are strong complementary flavors. I also tasted kosher salt in the sandwhich. My only disapointment is that I was expecting it to be on a ciabatta as described on the menu. Instead it was prepared with, tasty but unexpected, pre-sliced, whole-grain bread.

Le Bon Cafe is located at 210 Second Street, S.E. in Washington, D.C. It is open seven days per week for breakfast and lunch.

Thursday, April 07, 2005

City Cafe

On Saturday afternoon, a good friend and I enjoyed lunch together at City Cafe in Baltimore's Mount Vernon neighborhood. City Cafe is a restaurant and bar in an historical art deco era building complete with the original black and white checkered floor.

Although it was early afternoon, my lunch companion was more in the mood for breakfast. She ordered an omelet with homefries and a Bloody Mary. I went for lunch: a hamburger with french fries and a pint of Yuengling Lager.

All the food was good. I sampled both her omelet and her Bloody Mary. As omelet's go, it was true to form. She highly reccomended the Bloody Mary's at City Cafe. Before I took a sip, she warned me that it was both "chunky and hot." Indeed it was. The dominant flavor was horseradish. The addition of which I assume accounted for the chunks.

I had my hamburger medium rare, which I have only recently come to enjoy. Growing-up, my family eschewed beef for health concerns and I have really only recently learned to enjoy it. For many years I insisted on having it cooked well. I mistrusted the appearence of undercooked meat. As I've recently discovered, cooking beef well cooks out the flavor.

The hamburger came with string fries. I've noticed that most restaurants that serve well-made food will nonetheless serve frozen french fries. I probably wouldn't have ever thought this was strange, but back in December I discovered just how good french fries can be when I ate at DC Coast. I don't know what posessed me to order french fries at DC Coast, but I'm glad I did. They were the best french fries I've ever had. DC Coasts french fries are hand-cut in their kitchen, and they are far-and-away better than any that I've ever had that came out of a bag. I'd love to know how they prepare them so I can make my own.

The pricing at City Cafe struck me as odd. At $9.95 her omelet cost more than my $8.95 hamburger. Otherwise City Cafe serves good food in a pleasant upscale, casual environment.

We ate our meals leisurely, enjoyed good conversation, and we each had a second drink (lagers for both of us on the second round) before heading off to the American Visionary Art Museum.

City Cafe is located at 1001 Cathedral Steet in Baltimore. It is open seven days per week and serves brunch, lunch, and dinner.

Monday, April 04, 2005

Saturday, April 02, 2005

I think you have to be OCD to paint

Looking at a mural at the American Visionary Art Museum that from a distance looked like waves of color, but upon closer inspection was composed of several thousand miniature figures with detailed faces, I commented, "I think you have to be OCD to paint."

"Mm hmm. Yeah."

"Do you paint?"


Friday, April 01, 2005

I don't know whether I'm coming or going

Last night while boarding my second bus on the trip home, I swiped my SmarTrip card, then said to the driver in all seriousness "good morning."