16 Weeks in Chocolate City

Appropriately enough, summer evenings in Washington are reminiscent of immersion in a molten chocolate river. Showering in the morning is futile, as one will become drenched in sweat within minutes of leaving the house. It is therefore advisable to plan to get one's bathing out of the way after hours, when the water pressure is generally stronger anyway.

Helpful hints like these only start to emerge after one has attained a critical mass of living experience in the District. I thought I might do my readers the service of enumerating some of them, that future visits to our National Capital might be more pleasant. I have arranged my advice into sections.

Public Transportation
I was alarmed to find out last night that "rush hour" under the Metro schedule is considered to be over by 7 pm. Would that it were so; it has become increasingly common for my work duties to keep me at the office well past 6. During rush hour, trains can be expected about every 6 minutes, throughout the system. By 7, that number has doubled. It is therefore wise to utilize WMATA's trip planner. Most of the time, the trains adhere to their schedules. Buses are to be avoided at all costs; non-Metro (e.g. Montgomery County, Maryland's, "RIDE-ON") buses are slightly more agreeable, and morning passengers will be happy to tell you which pirated DVDs they recommend, and where you might be able to find them.

Housing
It is amazing to me what people are willing to pay in additional rent for the privilege of residing in Dupont ("DOO-pont") Circle. Furthermore, amenities like parking spaces, gymnasiums, 24-hour valets and eunuchs, and the like, add considerably to already steep rates. A prep school friend recently took an apartment in Rosslyn, VA, but only in part to escape the usurious landlords across the river. Other benefits of establishing residence in this landscape of oppressive, post-apocalyptic buildings and incessant flyovers include Virginia's lower income tax, abundant swimming pools, and fantastic array of chain restaurants.

Dining
If one were able to subsist exclusively on a diet of Ethiopian food, life would be jolly, leisurely, and remarkably affordable. Few digestive tracks could survive such a regime, however, and it is wise to keep a balanced diet. By itself, DC's proudest culinary invention -- the jumbo slice -- scarcely seems an adequate alternative to gored-gored and lamb tibs. The best options include Mexican, Peruvian, El Salvadoran and Caribbean restaurants, many of which function mainly as take-out operations. As far as supermarkets are concerned, trust Safeway before Giant and Whole Foods before Safeway. But go easy on the designer mushrooms, as the prices there tend to be deceptively high.

Careers
I enjoy the luxury of the "reverse commute." That is, while I am rushing to work I am traveling in the opposite direction of perhaps 80% of my fellow passengers. The same pattern persists in the evenings. Employment in Washington is a subject I little understand, but it stands to reason that a large number of jobs are generated by the Federal government. Other large employers in the region include Quizno's, liquor stores, and the police.

Nightlife
Previous posts have hinted at the poor quality of nightlife here, but try telling that to a rat. Indeed, rodent enthusiasts will find Washington to be among the most cosmopolitan of cities. The same applies to fans of screen-printed t-shirts, filter cigarettes, and poorly maintained lavatories.

The End of Borf

Despite scant evidence to the contrary, I am no aficionado of graffiti culture. Yet even the most aloof District resident will be familiar with "Borf," whose tag (along with his apparent rival, "Slae") appears throughout the city. You can imagine the rumor and intrigue that erupted yesterday at the first news of his arrest. (I learned of this around 10 a.m. yesterday via craigslist, but wondered initially if it wasn't some kind of hoax.)

Borf, it turns out, is 18-year-old John Tsombikos of Great Falls, VA, a community in which the average household income is nearly four times the national average. Try as the Post might to romanticize this young man's work and to present his typically contrarian teenage demeanor as evidence of his status as an "artist," the treatment of graffiti as a novel cultural trend in search of legitimacy was last appropriate circa 1980.

More infuriating, however, is that we must now hear about Borf's anti-capitalist and anarchical worldview -- right alongside the fact that his parents, who clearly knew about his penchant for vandalism, occasionally gave him $14 so that he might park in downtown garages during his bombing trips to the "inner city."

Enough. It's disgusting, really. It is a testament to just how trite graffiti has become, that a wealthy, self-proclaimed nihilist driving around in his parents' Volvo SUV could attain such a level of fame (or infamy). Worse still, what made his work unique was his use of stencils. If it were possible, I'd like to punish him by sending him back to 1979 in the South Bronx, and see how he would manage there. For all his talk about anarchy, and not believing in age or property rights, I'd pay good money to see the look on his face upon stepping out of that time machine.

Skyboxes

It occurs to me that some readers might be perplexed by the apparent disconnect between my stated location (Chocolate City, U.S.A.) and the regional topics I choose to discuss (all-Brooklyn, all the time).

There is a very simple reasoning behind this: Washington is an absurdly boring place. True, I see more people getting arrested on your average Tuesday than I did for entire months at a time in New York, but I doubt very much that crime reporting would suit me. Then there are the Nationals -- today DCist says they're finally getting their due -- but I'm a Mets fan who, unlike David Brooks, won't make the switch that easily. For the most part, nothing worth noting happens here.

But one thing about D.C. that I have found surprising is the sheer pace of residential development here. Take, for example, the block of 14th Street between Church and Q Streets NW. Every single lot on both sides of the street is either being developed, was recently developed, or soon will be. And this in an area that had remained largely stagnant since the 1968 assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., and the subsequent riots.

Even from a distance, the D.C. real estate juggernaut is palpable due to the large number of cranes dotting the skyline. "Skyline," I say, as though Washington has one. Aside from the Capital dome, the Washington Monument and the National Cathedral, the eye registers nothing but an 8-story datum line across the horizon like a line of park benches.

Brooklyn, however, does have a discernable skyline, and one that has been changing slowly but surely over the last five or ten years. It is now going to be changing a lot more, it would seem.

Now, I'm no diehard fan of Frank Gehry. I don't like Jay-Z, Bruce Ratner, or the Nets very much either. But I can endorse the Atlantic Terminal development because it is, perhaps, my only chance to prove that my contempt for the NIMBY (Not In My Back Yard) and BANANA (Build Absolutely Nothing Anywhere Near Anything) crowds is more than idle posturing. Development should be considered a positive thing, so long as it is well executed, and large cities like Brooklyn represent at least one context in which development should not be considered the enemy.

Consider this: it has taken the 14th Street and U Street corridors almost 40 years to emerge from the funk of the civil rights era, and investment in the neighborhood has so far yielded little besides luxury condos. The Atlantic terminal area of Brooklyn has been awaiting redevelopment for some 50 years, ever since the Dodgers moved to Los Angeles. The opportunity for legitimate commercial and residential development there should be considered independently of its impact on the skyline.