This morning I went to brunch at a crab bar on 5th Avenue. It was late Sunday morning, and the two-piece jazz combo featured a bassist who played with his eyes closed, feeling the notes reverberate through his fingertips. Sitting beside him was a thin acoustic guitarist in a black leather blazer who was nodding… Continue Reading »
I walk to far end of the restaurant and take a seat facing the front door, across from an elderly couple sitting in the booth next to my table. He leans across the aisle and says to me, confidentially, “Get the pasta special—it’s a good value. It’s probably the best deal in the city. We… Continue Reading »
In winter the elk’s trail crosses the lake. We surprised each other shortly before dawn and I could almost understand what was going on behind his eyes. It was the same thing I’ve seen in olive leaves in Greece just before a storm, flashing back and forth, back and forth, silver and black. Continue Reading »
Honey, you’re lost. What are you doing in this part of town? The Museum of Women’s what? Art? I’ve never heard of it, but I can tell you it’s not around here—this is my neighborhood. I’ll tell you what, though—I can’t get you there, but I can get you back into town. Just act like… Continue Reading »
When the “walk” sign flashes, a family of four on the other side of Independence Avenue start to cross the street. The youngest of the bunch—maybe a little younger than three, at any rate much too young to cross a four-lane highway by herself—stumbles off the curb and lands on all fours. Frozen, she stares… Continue Reading »
Last night before attending “Twelfth Night” at the Shakespeare Theater, I decided to stay downtown and take myself out to a dimly lit Japanese restaurant on F Street that I’d been admiring. I was intrigued by its darkened windows, which reduced the patrons inside to ghostly silhouettes. A family of four was seated on my… Continue Reading »
Last night I went back to the Hirschhorn Sculpture Garden, across the street from the museum itself, to get a closer look at Dan Graham’s outdoor sculpture “For Gordon Bunshaft,” a pyramidal enclosure about eight feet tall made of glass and aluminum and mirrors. A short stone walkway leads from the path to its open… Continue Reading »
Across the room a family of four is having breakfast, each of them sitting at one of the four corners of the table. The father sits to the right of the eldest, who is maybe four years old, and across from the son the youngest, maybe two years old, while the mother sits across from… Continue Reading »
Today I rode to Dulles in an Airporter, along with two bureaucrats from Spain, who were already in the car when I got in, and who continued their conversation with the Cuban driver as we drove off. I was impressed by how much the Cuban knew about Spanish politics. He knew that Zapatero was the… Continue Reading »
It was after 5:00 when the planetarium at the Air and Space Museum let out and I wanted to get to the National Portrait Gallery before it closed at 5:30. I wanted to copy down a quote from Kurt Vonnegut that I’d read on my first day here. At the time it didn’t seem significant… Continue Reading »