50 Shades of BFF

What do you do with your BFF? With my BFFs, I'm likely to see a show or, more likely, just chat for a few hours at a restaurant or museum or at home or, in summer, at the rooftop pool. And, often, recently, we chat about 50 Shades of Grey. Specifically, wtf is the fuss about? (Since we haven't read it and it seems so ridiculous to pay so much for what is described as a badly written sex book when you can find badly written or filmed porn online for free.)

And dates?  Especially first dates, when BFF-ness isn't established? I've done plenty 2 hours'-worth of chatting on first dates. In coffeeshops and bars and restaurants. And in parks and museums and at sports or theater or dance events. I can't recall ever discussing 50 shades of grey at any of these dates.

SOO... Brian Feldman, CapFringe artist and BFF for hire.  Not really a BFF and not really a first date.  During CapFringe, Brian and his BFFs (i.e., 1-person audiences) have spent their 2 hours together going bowling, eating/drinking at Hooters (among other fine establishments), and standing in line to apply to Metro's new anti-busking busking program.

SO... when I met Brian last week at the start of our 2 hours together, I suggested we read 50 shades of grey out loud.  Brian was game.  I mentioned how much I love public transportation and suggested we read it on the Circulator bus to Georgetown.  (Side note: I love public transportation. I love the dynamics of watching people, but not overtly. I love the random, diverse mix of people to watch. And the potential for crazy people.) Brian was game.  (Side note 2: I love the BFF for hire idea.  BFFs for hire seem very agreeable.) 

It was the beginning of rush hour, so the bus wasn't fully packed, though we did have to stand. And we read.  Starting at page 1. Alternating pages and filming each other. (And Brian live tweeting it. #eroticfiction #fiftyshades)

The writing is awful. And I already dislike the characters.  And we didn't get to any sex scenes.  But, the giggles and snorts of the 50-something woman next to me, her full knowledge of just exactly what we were reading and her enjoyment of it, made the entire experience worth it.

In Georgetown, we got off the bus to get beverages for our sore reading throats.  And chocolate.  

And chatted while waiting for a bus back to CapFringe (and some more 50 shades).  My CapFringe review:  Did it live up to its description? Did "hanging out with one of DC's top performance artists" "change my life"?  Not really.  Did I "explore friendship ... through 'friend building'"? Not really. But I laughed and got a kick out of doing something I wouldn't ordinarily do with friends or on a date. Verdict:  5 stars. Better than most first dates where I don't think there will be a second date.

Help! I've rented a performance artist for 2 hours and don't know what to do!

It's that time of year again: the Capital Fringe Festival. Three weeks of sometimes amazing, sometimes awful, experimental and low-budget theater (and opera, dance, and puppetry) in sometimes-airconditioned venues.  All only blocks from my home!

And I need your help this year.  I bought a ticket to "BFF," a show by performance artist Brian Feldman.  (Read this WaPo article for more about the artist.)  The show is billed like this:

It could change your life. Perhaps the most conceptual offering in Capital Fringe history, BFF explores friendship through two hour "friend building" excursions. Only 50 people can attend these one-on-one experiences, hanging out with one of DC's top performance artists.

Yup -- for the low CapFringe ticket price of $17 (but free for me because I got a free pass for housing an artist again this year*), I am going to hang out with my new BFF Brian Feldman.  For 2 hours.  Just the 2 of us.  Next Friday, during rush hour. But wtf should we do?

I love the idea.  It's taking me -- a non-artist, typically passive audience member -- and making me think about the art in advance.  And then live it for 2 hours.  And I have no fucking idea what we should do for 2 hours.  All I know is (1) it's gotta be something nearby (which includes lots of good stuff: my house, including gym/pool; the mall; museums; white house; supreme court; MLK main library; tons of restaurants, grocery stores, bars, etc.); and (2) it can't feel like a date (I do enough dating already).

I've run it by some friends, and here's the ideas so far:

1. Use this as an opportunity for me to re-learn how to ride a bicycle, with the encouragement of my new BFF.  (I haven't ridden a bike in over 20 years.)  Then maybe hang out at my building's rooftop pool.
2. Read 50 Shades of Grey (which my mom just mailed to me) together, aloud. In the Safeway. Until we're kicked out.  Then maybe hang out at my building's rooftop pool.
3. Protest something absurd.  Like "Transportation." Possibly at Union Station. (Or the Supreme Court).
4. Go see a Fringe show together.
5. Volunteer somewhere, maybe picking up trash. 
6. No matter what I do, make my new BFF think I'm earnest about it.
7. Live tweet or Facebook or Instragram or film what we do.
8. Obvs, become Facebook friends with my new BFF.

What do y'all think of these?  And I'd love to hear more ideas.  (And, btw, the 50 Shades of Grey idea is far and away the idea most people love so far.)

*For the 3rd year in row, I've volunteered to house an unknown-to-me Fringe artist from out of the DC area.  This time a composer from Philadelphia. And, for the 3rd year in a row, to the naysayers I say: "If I'm murdered, you can't say 'I told you so' because I'm already dead."

Awful things #2: vinyl records

This the the 2nd in a series of "awful things" chosen by Disgruntled Coworker for me to write about.  He thinks he's choosing things I like.  He prolly thinks I like vinyl because he thinks I'm nostalgic for all things from my youth.  And all "authentic" things.  But I agree with him on this one. 

I have a box of vinyl records somewhere in my momma's garage back in Texas.  It doesn't matter if the south Texas heat hasn't gotten to 'em yet.  Because I ruined them well before that.  Over 20 years ago, a friend and I got the brilliant idea to black out the the centers of all my records. You know, where the name of the band, the album, and the songs are.  And then, we placed all the records in the wrong sleeves.

When you went to play a record, it was a total crapshoot.  Think you're gonna hear 1 of the 5 records in that Bruce Springsteen and the E St Band Live 1975-85 box set? Nope, it's Men at Work.  (Yes, those are both in the collection.) (No, no comment on what substances may have played a role in this brilliant decision making.)  It was sort of a pre-iPod "shuffle."

And, it was also a sort of pre-iTunes playlist.  Because, the records weren't randomly in the wrong sleeves.  There was a method to it.  Looking for AC/DC's Back in Black? (Also in the collection.)  Why don't you try looking in the Michael Jackson Bad album sleeve?  (Also in the collection.)  You know, because Michael wore that awesome black jacket on the album cover.

But, iPod/Nano/iPhone/iTunes:  SO much better than vinyl.  Because I can indulge my caterpillar-sized attention span and shuffle to another song in nanoseconds, while searching online and making a phone call and taking a picture at the same time.  Sometimes, even taking a picture of the internet access itself.  Check out these crazy wifi networks:

I'm guessing the 3rd one ("Bear Heaven") is related to the Eagle, the gay leather bar here in the neighborhood.  And I saw "Goodbye Jews!" in Park Slope, Brooklyn last month:

In my old vinyl filing "system," I would have filed Ozzy's Blizzard of Ozz under "Goodbye Jews!"  Because it has "Goodbye to Romance" on it, obvs.

OMG.  All the old vinyl songs are on my various iDevices.  I need new music.

Million (give or take 999,800) Mustache March

Thanks to one of the neighborhood blogs, I learned about the "Million Mustache March" taking place in the area today.  Obvs, given my fondness for scruffy hipster types, I went to check out what I hoped would be some fine displays of ironic facial hair.  The 100 or so (I'll be generous here) 200 marchers were, indeed, a scruffy little band, with ironic stick-on facial hair,

ironic chants ("occupy your upper lip"),

ironic signs,

and, unfortunately, ironic spandex.  Red spandex on men:  NOT GOOD:

But, given the dearth of cute hipsters to my liking, the best thing I saw were these non-ironically-retro-dressed Christian proselytizers along the route, who put down their pamphlets and instruments and watched in stunned silence:

End of Days! Where's my Nicotine?!!?!!

In preparation for Hurricane Irene (or, more likely when it hits DC, Tropical Storm Irene), I ventured down the street to the Safeway to get the necessities: cigarettes, pain killers, and peaches.  Saw the sticker above on a sign on my way.  Apropos, no?  The nice folks at the Ace Hardware on 5th by the Safeway had some good advice:  PANIC!  

It seems folks were, indeed, following that advice.  The Safeway was packed.  You'd think the world was ending.  The lines were all the way to the back of the store at every check out, much like they were before the Snowpocalypse 2 winters ago.  Got a kick out Safeway's placement of the Nicorrette next to the menstrual pain relievers:

But couldn't take the lines, so ditched the peaches, which require actual check out with a scale, and went to non-scaled customer service for the true necessity: cigs.  Then went down the street for a sub from Taylor Gourmet. You know, in case the power goes out and I can't microwave stuff in my usual mode of high-class cooking.  My hurricane preparedness tableau:

Yes.  I plan to read about popes while eating a sub, smoking cigs, and watching the rain.  

Um, no thanks. Think I'll skip that party.

Seen today on K St, a "party wagon":

A man (guessing on the gender) who refers to his van as a "party wagon" comes across to me as a teenager or a creepy (possibly impotent) perv.  Maybe of the pedo variety.  Guessing again, but this isn't a teen (unlikely to pay for vanity plates).  Or a pedo (too many windows).  But, ew.

Aren't you glad Urine DC?

I've been in DC over 2 years now and thought I was past comparing it to NY. But, two things brought NY to mind recently. First, the folks taking art pix (in pig mask!) in front of the street art down the street. My pic of their pic of the art (plus pig!) was so meta it felt more NY than DC.


Second, I just had to pop into a downtown Metro station to reload my transit card. Since I'm within walking distance (or a quick bus or cab ride) to work and most places I tend to go, I don't ride the metro all that often. So I may be speaking naively when I say the metro here is more comfortable and smells better than nyc's subway. But, today? Overwhelming odor of urine. Not quite on par with what I remember of august in ny (despite my best efforts to bury those scent memories), but it is, after all, only early spring.


UPDATE:  ok, it's not a pig. It would be better if it were a pig.  For a better (non-cellphone) pic of the street art behind them, go here.

Coffee Klatch

The bagel place down the street from the office wants to pre-sell its 2011 coffee club cards.  Gingie co-worker noticed this sign they put up:

(photo by disgruntled co-worker)

I'm not sure why, but I started to picture the shape of things to come:  Dec. 31, my 2010 coffee card at its climax, and I'll have a hole that will need filling.  And Jan 1, with no more member-ship, my wallet will get the shaft!  I'll need a hard, fast deal.

Attention Hipsters!

As part of packing to move next week, I've been paring down the stuff.  The following t-shirts should be available soon at a DC-area Goodwill for you to purchase and wear ironically:

(I did climb Masada.  In 1982.)

(circa 1980)

(bought in a West Texas Goodwill, late 90s)

(math nerd!)

(My friend Laura and I got these in the early 80s at the iron-on place in the mall. 

The back has sparkle letters.)

Rainbow Sparkle Letters!  So hard to get rid of, it's taken me over 25 years!

Smokey and the Bandit and a Hot Dog

I found my new favorite website for this week: Fiverr. Where crazy/talented/broke people offer up what they'll do for $5 and lazy/bored/crazy people like me give them $5 to do it. It is a wonderful time-suck seeing what I'm willing to pay $5 for. For my first purchase, should I pay $5 to the woman who would video herself rapping to any Miley Cyrus song to send to my Miley-lovin' disgruntled co-worker? Or pay $5 to the man who would explain any tough Bible question to me and the readers of the Texarkana Dispatch? I decided to pay $5 to the woman who would dance to a song of my choice dressed in a hot dog costume because I like hot dogs. I mean, I've been dieting recently and, mmmmm, hot dog.

I paid my $5 and briefly considered, then rejected, having Haleylujah dance to REM's Texarkana or Insane Clown Posse's Miracles. But then I remembered that the Bandit escaped Smokey as he drove that Trans Am from Texarkana to Jerry Reed's East Bound and Down:

Hot Dog! I think my favorite part is the "get the trucker to honk" move at about 1 minute in. Yours?

Cab Cross

My cab driver had this hand-made cross taped to his windshield:

I wasn't content to silently judge the ostentatious display of religiosity and I asked the driver about it.  He was super nice.  Told me his daughter made it for Palm Sunday about 4 years ago and he's had it up ever since.  She's in college now abroad and he misses her.  He said pictures were fine, but requested not to be in them.  Here's a street view of the cross:

I wish him and his family the best.  (Still think the cross is a bit much, though.)

Party in the USA!

(photo by Neven)

We had a baby shower at work today for "disgruntled coworker."  He's into Miley Cyrus (ironically?) so we ordered an ice cream cake that was supposed to say "Baby in the USA!" on a plain cake top. I can't tell if it does, what with all the caramel and candies under the wobbly lettering.

The nutty thing is, when another (not disgruntled) coworker picked up the cake, the ice cream store employee said this was the second one they made. She had to totally redo it, she said, because the first one was "embarrassing." She said she told the person who made the first cake "you have to make the cake so that you'd want to eat it."

I guess she wanted to eat strawberry ice cream instead of the cookies and cream we ordered, because that's what we got. 

Anachronism Edition

(photo by disgruntled co-worker)

Now, I don't claim to be a vintage car expert, but this car, seen today by the FBI headquarters, looks like a Model T.  I don't think the GPS device there on the console is an original feature, though, again, I'm not a vintage car expert.

I am, however, quite good at navigating DC.  It's on a grid people!  Pshaw.  Tourists.

Atticus told me to delete the adjectives and I'd have the facts

Was trying to figure out how to connect these random photos I'd taken. For lack of a better way, I'm going with the To Kill a Mockingbird quote above, which I have posted in my office to guide me as I write.

Stalinist hands:

(Via Cucina, 11th st NW)

Bad dog:

(K St NW)

Generous patrons:

(Air and Space Museum)

Happy 50th b-day today to To Kill a Mockingbird.

Street art in Mt Vernon Sq

The moneytooth poster is long gone.  But this week, the same abandoned building that once sported moneytooth got this stern new tenant.

Alien in Briefs (P St NW)

How do I define a good day in less than five words?  Pregnant alien in briefs.  It's either that or the ice weasels.  

Random Mariachi Sighting

I'm walking home and saw this nice man who let me take his picture.
He's at 5th and K, NW. Where are the other mariachis?

Signature Salad Edition

The Cosi sandwich shop across from the office was repainting tonight.
Love that they were using the salad bowls as paint buckets.

Bananas! Edition

Another street-side tableau to start the day.

Hats Off! Edition

This found item tableau is a nice way to start the day.