barry burton

Notes from the Capital

• My single previous visit to Washington, D.C. was a school trip in the eighth grade, which had convinced me that the city was composed solely of landmarks, museums, and tour buses. I was pleasantly surprised to find a good subway system and a sizable downtown area. Strangely, the buildings seemed to be stunted at 10 or so stories. Maybe a few 15 story buildings, but not too many, and nothing taller.
• The street grid is amazing. Lots of cities pull off a good rectangular grid, but to have diagonal streets that make sense is a cut above (for poorly executed diagonal streets, see San Francisco). Seeing unobstructed through the middle of a city for two miles down the mall is cool as well.
• Like in San Francisco, the cross walk lights in DC have not just the white / flashing red / steady red walking man, but also a numeric timer showing exactly how many seconds are left to cross the street.
• The DC subway is called the Metro. It helped me rediscover my love for a good subway system. One day, if only for a year or two, I will live in a city with a subway, and I will take it to work every morning! I may or may not like having to take it, but this is something that I am willing to discover.
• Brett & I finished up a conversation about Net Neutrality and then boarded the Metro. A woman boarded the same Metro car, dressed in a suit, with a brief on Net Neutrality peaking from the top of her purse.
• I came down an escalator onto a Metro platform, finding a train already there. Thinking Brett was close behind me, I jumped on board. Brett wasn’t that close behind me, and the doors closed on him as he attempted to follow. Seriously. He was right in the middle. He attempted to force the doors open a bit to worm his way into the car, but they wouldn’t budge, so he had to extricate himself and wait for the next train.
• We met a guy named Nathan on the blue line the day I was wearing my Come on the feel the Illinoise! Sufjan Stevens t-shirt. He liked the band and was super excited to see someone wearing the shirt. By super excited, I mean super really ridiculously very excited.
• Later that day, while meticulously photographing myself wearing said shirt in front of the Lincoln Memorial, another guy climbed the steps of the Memorial, clad in an identical green t-shirt. I covered myself with my Timbuk2.
• The last day, we chanced upon extra time, so I was able to visit the Hirshhorn Museum. It had less art on display than SFMOMA, so it was less overwhelming (to me). Most of the gallery rooms contained a Barcelona Bench from which I could comfortably rest in style while contemplating the artwork.
• At Tenpenh (Asian Fusion-ish restaurant on Pennsylvania Ave.) I had the pleasure of consuming Wasabi Mashed Pototoes. Good mashed (not creamed) potatoes with a little sweetness and a wonderful wasabi kick (not to mention the pretty green hue). Addicting.
• Finally, a story on being a fake Californian in other parts of the country. At a different restaurant, the waitress asked for my ID (Brett had recently shaved, so we agreed it was his fault). While studying the license, she said “Cool! California!” and her face lit up with a smile. When she next checked Brett’s ID (issued by the fine state of Alabama), her smile quickly faded and her friendliness disappeared. The moral of course being that if you can pass as a fake Californian, then don’t associate with those that can’t, because they will only throw your mojo. :)