‘Pullman Porter’: Great Blues Overstuffed With Melodrama

December 21, 2012

The trouble with playwright Cheryl L. West’s “Pullman Porter Blues,” a world-premiere, Arena Stage co-production with the Seattle Repertory Theatre where the play with music opened, is not with the stars or any of the performers, who are almost uniformly terrific.

The trouble is neither with the fluid set, meant to convey a 1930s, depression-era train ride from Chicago to the deep South nor with the costumes. It sure is not with the music, a batch of terrific blues numbers of varying tempos performed and played with verve, gusto and honest and gut-wrenching and heart-breaking honesty by the performers.

The trouble is with West’s play, and its overambitious contents, stuffed so full with often clashing tendencies and goals that it feels both overdone and under-realized in the end. On the one hand, you have a kind of family saga, a story of three generations of Sykes men, all working as Pullman porters on a train heading south from Chicago on a day when Joe Louis fought Jim Braddock for the heavyweight boxing title of the world.

Also on board are Sister Juba and her four-man band to sing a heavy dose of blues, upbeat, downbeat, slow and dirty, wailing and loud and stuff you gotta dance to and bust a move. Add an out-and-out truly evil white conductor—the conductor being God on the Panama Limited or any other train—off-stage passengers, and a cast-off white girl teenager stowaway with the improbable name of Lutie Duggernut who has been deserted by her dad and who can play a mean harmonica.

Mind you, that’s just the setting not the plot. Faced with an opportunity to provide some meaningful drama and commentary about an ugly, but richly relevant time in America’s history in Jim Crow, segregated times, West has chosen to stoke this train ride with melodrama. It is important to remember that melodrama has its own rules that you can’t really break and its own bucket of improbabilities and coincidences and secrets.

The melodrama gets in the way of what we’re seeing and hearing: the blues, for sure, but also a picture of what it was like to live in America as an African-American, particularly an African-American man trying not just to get by like everyone else, but to get to within hollering distance of that elusive American dream — without being beaten, lynched, unjustly jailed or just ending up in a ditch. When we see that part of the play, we’re appalled, but amazed by the fortitude, the dogged courage and the inventiveness displayed by the characters and by the echoes we hear to our times: that what happens in our lives today comes from those days as surely as anywhere else.

And just when you’re ready to embrace the play at this level, along comes the melodrama and melodramatics, those long-kept secrets going back to slavery, the hopes and dreams, the ambitions and sacrifices and shameful failures.

That’s mostly about grandpa Monroe Sykes, who has made a life out of being a porter, saving money, absorbing the daily insults, giving himself respect for his efforts, followed by his son Sylvester, also a porter, who is working on getting to the future by working to create a union for the porters, a brotherhood of porters (and one of the first group organized to work for civil rights), but whose hopes are all focused on his son Cephas, whom he has managed to send to medical school. Cephas, eager, idealistic, full of life, is on this trip courtesy of grandpa Monroe, who lets him see for himself what a porter’s life is. This sets father and son and grandpa and father at odds: Sylvester is a hothead looking for trouble, Cephas is rebellious about his future, and grandpa tries to keep it all together.

Then, there’s the conductor, porter making their lives miserable, as they head south to Mississippi, played with drunken menace by Richard Ziman. There’s the band and Sister Juba who has issues and a past with Sylvester that we don’t know about. And money’s being bet on the fight, and the porters and the band are jubilant when Louis knocks out the white champion (subject of the Russell Crowe movie, “Cinderella Man”).

So what do we end up with? Performances subtle and jubilant (by Larry Marshall as Monroe), tense and fiery (Cleavant Derricks) as Sylvester, eager and appealing (Warner Miller) as Cephas and downright layered, trumpeting and triumphant (the incomporable E. Faye Butler) as Sister Julia. If “Pullman Porter Blues” were strictly a blues show, it would be just about perfect, thanks to numbers like the pounding “This Train.” the delightfully danced “Hop Scop Blues,” the somber “Trouble In Mind” and butler/sister Julia belting out “Wild Women Don’t Have the Blues.”

But there’s more to it, and here the melodrama kicks in with some potentially tragic and dangerous events that could spell serious consequences for the Sykes clan. Having found love and forgiveness together, they face the serious trouble at the end of the line in Mississippi united and together.

Here’s the problem: melodrama all but insists that the issues ahead are resolved, tragically or triumphantly, logically or emotionally. We want to know — to see what happens. The subject matter almost demands a certain ambiguity, a triumph over reality, suggesting the hope in the future.

West settles—abruptly—for ambiguity, something larger than the melodrama which we’ve been watching, a setting where danger and triumph seem to operate side by side. It’s true that you shouldn’t complain that a writer hasn’t written the play you wanted her to write. Nevertheless, you can wish in this case that West hadn’t quite so overloaded her bag of gifts with every which thing.

In the end, you’re likely to wind up fully engaged despite the play’s problems. That was certainly the case for the audience I saw at a matinee performance. It was a somewhat older audience, many of whom surely heard echoes of their own history in the music and the characters.

“Pullman Porter Blues,” will be at Arena Stage at the Mead Center for American Theater through January 6, 2013.
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Dave Brubeck: Solid, Regular Guy as Worldwide Jazz Genius


Dave Brubeck was a giant in the world of jazz, a world noted for the presence of many giants and big personalities.

In that world, Brubeck was also a man apart, a true creative genius and original who didn’t live the troubled jazz lives of other jazz legends, Charlie Parker prominently among them. He was a pioneer like Parker was, a big world-like force like Louis Armstrong and a man nearly as influential in the range of American music that flowed from jazz as Duke Ellington.

Brubeck, who died just a day before his 92nd birthday last week, was the product of a Catholic marriage, was married to the same woman all his life, had six children, five of whom entered into what you could call the family business and was still creative, even touring, almost to the end of his days. This rock-solid man who looked somewhat like a mad professor and once wanted to be a veterinarian began a career as a jazz musician, group leader and composer after World War II, in which he had served honorably as well as performing for troops at the request of a commander.

Brubeck told people that his goal at the beginning was that he wanted to play polytonally and polyrhythmically — goals, the meaning of which might escape average boppers and listeners but which meant one word to Brubeck: freedom. It was complicated, but it opened up wide so that jazz contained the world.

One of the results of this quest was an album released by the Dave Brubeck Quartet in 1959 called “Time Out.” It included—along with a musical tribute to Ellington, whom Brubeck admired more than anyone else—a number called “Take Five,” composed by the group’s lyrical, steadying alto sax player Paul Desmond. As a piece of music, “Take Five” was tricky. It sounded like jazz, couldn’t be anything else, but it was witchy and irresistable you couldn’t get it out of your head. It was played in 5/4 time as opposed to the more common 4/4 jazz beat. Astonishingly, in ways that had never happened before, the album was a huge hit, and “Take Five” also rode up the charts as a single.

In time, the music of “Time Out” and especially “Take Five” came to symbolize the coming world of performance and recorded jazz. It was hip, and it was cool. It was a little cerebral, even though Brubek himself thrived on improvisation, Parker’s and Gillespie’s salty bread and butter of playing and flying—more than most. Imagine a jazz club—in San Francisco, especially—of the late 1950s and ’60s. The players would be cool, a quartet, a trio, bass players sleepily casual, the rounds and turns of solos and improvs, riffs on a theme, going round the players. There would be young people in those clubs, college kids, the boys with thin ties, the girls in a size-smaller skirt zipped up, in heels and blouse. They would be listening almost intently, as if deciphering a hidden message in the music.

It was kind of strange—this church-like place with cigarette smoke and cocktail atmosphere—compared to the looser, equally smoke-filled jams in Harlem where Bird flew and later Gillespie reigned with his peculiar horn tossing bebop like musical salad.

Brubeck—who garnered a Kennedy Center Honor in 2009—made the cover of Time Magazine in 1954, a first for a jazz player and the only one to do so besides Mr. World Ambassador Louis “Satchmo” Armstrong. All this popularity and fame and honors grated on some people, jazz critics and purists among them who saw jazz as a largely African-American contribution to American culture.

Yet, according to a Washington Post article this week, Brubeck’s peers didn’t mind. Everyone knew there wasn’t a prejudiced bone in Brubeck’s mindset, having refused to tour in Southern states which would not allow bass player Eugene Wright, who was black, appear in any venues. The Post reported that that Willie “The Lion” Smith, a legendary African American jazz and blues pianist, was asked by a reporter in the Netherlands, with Brubeck close by, “Isn’t it true that no white man can play jazz?” According to the Post, Smith “gestured toward Mr. Brubeck and said to the reporter, ‘I’d like you to meet my son.’ ”

In any case, Brubeck was famously a champion of racial tolerance, and he was famous for being simply a decent man.

He composed all sorts of music— hundreds of compositions, classical, jazz on the themes of classical composers, even music used in a Charlie Brown show. “The Dave Brubeck Quartet” emerged into the limelight during the 1950s and included Brubeck on piano, Desmond on sax, Wright on bass and drummer Joe Morello.

Brubeck, Armstrong, Gillespie and Ellington all at one time or another became world ambassadors of sorts through their music, traveling all over the world to spread the gospel of jazz and America. Stories have it that during summit talks between Soviet premier Mikhail Gorbachev and President Ronald Reagan at a Brubeck concert in Moscow Gorbachev reportedly listened with foot-tapping affinity. Brubeck in some quarters was credited with helping to soften Gorbachev up for Americans and Reagan and making the summit a success in 1988.

It’s always interesting to note the reactions on the blogosphere to the death of famous persons. Those anonymous scribbles inevitably include some ragged, cruel and hurtful comments. None of that negativity was present for Brubeck — except for a complaint that the Huffington Post hadn’t featured his death on its front page.

Take that, and take five.

Just Do It: Nike Town Opens Oct. 25


“Nike Georgetown opens 10/25. Your official destination for all things Nike in the nation’s capitol [sic].” So read the Nike D.C. tweet, formally alerting runners, walkers and shoppers to the Washington area’s only Niketown, ready for business Oct. 25. The 3040 M Street address, at the corner of Thomas Jefferson Street, once housed a Barnes & Noble book store, its loss widely lamented, and, before that, the movie theater Cerberus.

While there are Nike factory stores in Virginia and Maryland, the large M Street store in the nation’s capital will be a showcase for the Oregon-based company which is the world’s leading supplier of athletics shoes and a major manufacturer of sports equipment. At the end of its fiscal 2012, Nike posted more than $24 billion in revenue.

Besides being famous for its Air Jordan shoes, the company owns Converse, Cole Haan, Hurley International and Umbro.

Also, D.C. can expect a slight uptick in its job numbers, as Nike — which employs more 44,000 persons worldwide — has advertised for positions at the new store: “Nike Store Assistant Head Coach” (assistant manager), “Nike Store Coach” (department manager) and more.

Nike (Georgetown)

202-471-5870

3040 M Street NW, Washington, DC 20007

Weekend Round Up December 13, 2012

December 20, 2012

Write Home Soon Workshop

December 15th, 2012 at 10:30 AM | Free | Tel: 202-458-6016 | Event Website

Mark Strandquist’s Write Home Soon is an ongoing project that bridges public installation and social practice methods. It includes interactive public installations, city-wide workshops, and an exhibition of participant created postcards depicting places—mental, physical, natural, metaphoric—that individuals have lost in their lifetime. Postcards are mailed to the Art Museum of the Americas and exhibited as part of Ripple Effect. Learn about the project & create your own postcard.

Address

Corcoran Gallery of Art, 500 Seventeenth St NW

Snow Day Bar Crawl

December 15th, 2012 at 01:00 PM | $15 – $30 | info@redfrogevents.com | Tel: 773-687-4595 | Event Website

D.C.’s biggest holiday bar crawl gives merrymakers the chance to cheer! From 1-8 on Dec. 15, Snow Day decks the halls starting with a free beer! Participants then sip on deals like $2 beer refills and $4 Candy Cane shots while going from bar to bar. It is $15 until Dec. 11. Bars like Front Page, 19 and more will be festively styled! Don’t drink and drive! Make plans with a designated driver. Use any form of public transport like the Metrobus and/or rail system. Must be 21 or older.

Address

Black Finn; 1620 I Street NW

Georgetown Lutheran Church Sing-along

December 15th, 2012 at 05:00 PM | Free | Tel: 202-333-3642.

The Georgetown Lutheran Church is hosting a community Christmas sing-along with organ accompaniment on Saturday, December 15, 2012 at 5:00 p.m. The event is free and welcome to all.

Address

Georgetown Lutheran Church; 1556 Wisconsin Ave. NW,

Oscar Wilde’s Ideal Husband

December 16th, 2012 at 02:00 PM | $12 to $15 | education@dumbartonhouse.org | Tel: 202-337-2288 | Event Website

An encore performance by the Picnic Theatre Company of the Oscar Wilde comedy of manners about blackmail, political corruption, and relationship in one of Washington, D.C.’s finest historic house museums. Directed by Karim Chrobog. Proceeds benefit AGE Africa (ageafrica.org) to fund high school scholarships for girls in Malawi
and Dumbarton House.

Address

2715 Q Street, NW

Georgetown Business Association Yoga Fundraiser & Reception

December 16th, 2012 at 04:00 PM | 10.00 and up | janine@jswgroupus.com

Join the GBA in raising money for the Georgetown Senior Center by taking a Restorative Yoga class at Georgetown Yoga on December 16, 2012 at 4pm followed by a wine reception at 5:30pm. All donations will go to Georgetown Senior Center with GBA matching funds up to $500. Suggested minimum donation $10 for the class and reception. Not sure you are ready for yoga? You are welcome to attend the reception from 5:30 – 7pm.

Address

Georgetown Yoga; 2603 P Street, NW

Joshua Eli Plaut Discusses Latest Book A Kosher Christmas: ‘Tis the Season to Be Jewish

December 17th, 2012 at 07:30 PM | $10.00 | lilikg@washingtondcjcc.org | Tel: (202) 202-777-3251 | Event Website

In his latest book, A Kosher Christmas: ‘Tis the Season to Be Jewish, Joshua Eli Plaut explores the creative and innovative responses and will discuss his findings on Monday, December 17 at 7:30 p.m. at the Washington DC Jewish Community Center. The event is part of the DCJCC’s Authors Out Loud series, which brings Washingtonians together for evenings of entertainment and stimulating conversation with great authors and fellow readers.

Address

1529 16th Street Northwest Washington, DC 20036

Georgetown Biz Group Honors 2012 Achievers, Affirms 2013 Officers


The Georgetown Business Association held its Annual Meeting and Holiday Soiree at Dumbarton House Dec. 12, affirming its 2013 officers and board and honoring individuals and businesses.

The 2013 GBA officers are Riyad Said, president (Wells Fargo); Janine Schoonover, vice president (JSW Group); Karen Ohri, treasurer (Georgetown Floorcovering); Molly Quigley, secretary (Clyde’s Restaurant Group).

Outgoing GBA president Rokas Beresniovas reviewed 2012’s work: revised bylaws, partnerships with Georgetown-based businesses and a wider marketing effort. Along with new events like the candidates’ forum and the Financial Policy Institute seminar, Beresniovas said that the customary senior advisory luncheon will be relaunched in spring 2013 with some changes. The new GBA president Riyad Said thanked Beresniovas and said his last name was easier to pronounce. GBA vice president Janie Schoonover spoke of GBA’s ability to lobby the government as well as zoning and parking.

Schoonover also led a moment of silence with the audience to remember Curtin Winsor, chair of the Bank of Georgetown, who died suddenly Dec. 11.

Proud to be thanking the crowd was one of the communitarians of the year, Terry Bell of Salon Ilo, whose latest charitable effort was a Dec. 5 Kitty Kelley booksigning, a fundraiser for the D.C. Public Library Foundation and Friends of the Georgetown Public Library.

Business person of the year Zubair Popal, whose Malmaison at 34th and K Streets will open in January, recalled his journey from Afghanistan to the D.C. area and noted that his children went to Georgetown University and George Washington University. Popal assured that his new restaurant would exude “traditional Afghan hospitality.”

Said called Linda Greenan’s lifetime achievement award a “half-life award,” as he expected she had a lot more to do beyond her last GBA board meeting.

Georgetown resident, Iraq War veteran and a bronze star recipient, Army Major David Alexander, was introduced by GBA board member Ed Solomon, who is also an advisory neighborhood commissioner. The major’s father, Sam Alexander, was also in attendance. The Alexander family has owned several local properties, one of which on P Street was rented by a young John F. Kennedy, a representative in Congress at the time.

Ward 2 Councilman Jack Evans proclaimed D.C. the “most dynamic city in America” and welcomed At-large Councilman Vincent Orange to close the meeting. Orange thanked his Georgetown voters and said, “The Evans-Orange team is back.”

The following recipients were honored at the ceremony:

= 2012 Joe Pozell Public Safety Award was presented to Officer Antonial Atkins and Officer Kathryn Fitzgerald, both of the Metropolitan Police Department’s 2nd District.

= 2012 The Art Schultz Communitarian Award was presented to Salon Ilo owner Terry Bell and to Rose Park community activist David Abrams.

= 2012 Business Person of the Year was presented to owner of Cafe Bonaparte, Napoleon and the new Malmaison in Georgetown, Zubair Popal.

= 2012 Business of the Year was presented to the historic George Town Club.

= 2012 Lifetime Achievement Award was presented to recently retired Georgetown University Associate Vice President for External Relations, Linda Greenan.

The soiree, sponsored by Fox Ventures, SugarPlum Tents, Atlantic Valet and Dumbarton House, featured a specialty cocktail menu, ample and heavy hors d’ oeuvres and a night of dancing after the award ceremony. Many members and visitors stuck around chatting and complemented the food, drinks and music — as well as the cool vibe of the evening.

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Curtin Winsor, Bank of Georgetown Co-Founder, Dies


Curtin Winsor III, executive chairman of the Bank of Georgetown, died Dec. 11, the Washington Business Journal first reported. He died of a heart attack in Arlington. A funeral service is scheduled for Dec. 17 at Christ Church at 31st and O Streets, with burial at Oak Hill Cemetery, according to Carol Joynt.

Born and raised in D.C., the 49-year-old Winsor lived with his wife Deborah and three daughter on 34th Street. Their home was the site of the 2010 Georgetown House Tour Patron’s Party and was once occupied by Ambassador David Bruce and his wife Evangeline. Winsor was a board member of the Georgetown Business Improvement District.

Here is additional biographical information from the Bank of Georgetown website:

Born and raised in Washington, D.C., Winsor has had an active role in the area’s financial and philanthropic communities for more than 20 years. In 2005, he founded Bank of Georgetown with Michael Fitzgerald. Prior to that, Winsor was a principal and founding partner of Columbia Partners Investment Management, LLC, a registered investment advisory firm managing in excess of $3 billion in equities for pension funds, endowments and high net worth individuals.

In addition to serving as chairman of the bank, Winsor sits on the Board of Directors or has an advisory role with several hedge funds and investment partnerships. He is also a member and Trustee of the W.H. Donner Foundation in New York City and the Donner Canadian Foundation in Toronto, Canada, for which he oversees the respective foundations’ investment portfolios and program development areas.

Winsor is very active in civic and charitable causes in the Washington, D.C., area and serves as a trustee of the National Taxpayers Union; the National Taxpayers Union Foundation; the Starlight-Starbright Children’s Foundation, Mid-Atlantic Chapter; Georgetown Business Improvement District; and the Washington Scholarship Fund, where he serves on the executive committee. He is also a trustee of the Washington Opera. [gallery ids="101102,138173" nav="thumbs"]

America Mourns


President Barack Obama ordered that all flags at government buildings, military installations and naval vessels be flown at half-staff through Tuesday, Dec. 18, at sunset, in honor of those massacred at a Connecticut elementary school Dec. 14. The dead included 20 children.

The following is part the president’s remarks on Friday afternoon, Dec. 14:

“The majority of those who died today were children — beautiful little kids between the ages of 5 and 10 years old. They had their entire lives ahead of them — birthdays, graduations, weddings, kids of their own. Among the fallen were also teachers — men and women who devoted their lives to helping our children fulfill their dreams.

“So, our hearts are broken today — for the parents and grandparents, sisters and brothers of these little children, and for the families of the adults who were lost. Our hearts are broken for the parents of the survivors as well, for as blessed as they are to have their children home tonight, they know that their children’s innocence has been torn away from them too early, and there are no words that will ease their pain.

“. . . While nothing can fill the space of a lost child or loved one, all of us can extend a hand to those in need — to remind them that we are there for them, that we are praying for them, that the love they felt for those they lost endures not just in their memories but also in ours.

“May God bless the memory of the victims and, in the words of Scripture, heal the brokenhearted and bind up their wounds.”

House Speaker John Boehner, R-Ohio, also ordered flags at the U.S. Capitol lowered to half-staff in honor of those massacred at the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn., Dec. 14.

The photo shown of a lowered flag at the U.S. Capitol was taken by photographer Jeff Malet on Friday, Dec. 14, 8 p.m. The U.S. Capitol Christmas Tree in the foreground came from a nation forest as a gift from Colorado.

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Massacre at Newtown: A Defining Moment for America


It seems to me that there were so many things on our mind before last Friday afternoon. The newspapers and television news and blogs were full of talk about the approaching appointment with the Fiscal Cliff. We buzzed here locally about who was going to start at quarterback for the Washington Redskins on Sunday—and who was going to be the next Secretary of State, this town being what it is.

People were out Christmas shopping. The streets and many shops were clogged, and the highways were full of irritations. Burl Ives once again ruled with his Christmas song on the radio, and people had already folded in a shooting-with-casualties at a mall in Oregon as if it was the latest among many such horrors that were now part of our daily lives. We were getting used to news like that.

On AOL news in the early afternoon, there was a vague, undetailed reference to gunfire at a school in Connecticut, and that the shooter was dead. I saw it briefly, it nagged at me as a kind of “another one already,” and I promptly forgot about it.

About an hour later—precision was not the mainstay of the day—that little note had become a big headline: 28 or 27 dead in elementary school shooting; 18 children dead. (It ended up to be 20 children dead). I stared at the headline, and there was a picture of I don’t remember what. The numbers were staggering, shocking, almost impossible to take in. And so that day truly began, and we were swallowed up in it whole.

The details only got worse: 20 children, ages six and seven, more girls than boys, and six teachers and administrators had been killed, gunned down by a young man armed with an assault rifle and more in the space of a few minutes at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Conn., a small (27,000 plus) commuter town were such monstrosities are never imagined even in the darkest of nights.

Initially, the story emerged in half-truths and confusion, misinformation that seemed to be coming from the shock and fog of a kind of war in which small children and their protectors were the victims of an act, which so far defied any real clues as to motivation and appeared to be beyond understanding.

It pinned us all to our hearts, as we watched and listened. I think and suspect that even in our sleep we saw the children, all the children we knew and thought about them, and embraced them and comforted them and tried to save them in a dream we never dreamt. We saw anguished parents rushing to the parking lot of the school, as if driven by demons. We saw children rushing out. We heard conflicting information about the killer, first misidentified as his brother, and about his mother, who was first believed to be a kindergarten teacher at Sandy Hook, but turned out to have no connection to the school. She was killed by her son in the home she shared with him before he embarked with grim purpose on his journey to the school, dressed in video death game black, armed with two handguns and the semi-automatic weapon.

His name was Adam Lanza and his mother’s name was Nancy. He killed himself when he heard approaching policemen enter the school, but he had enough ammunition to do much more damage than he did. What he did was bad enough. Just days before Christmas, he robbed parents of their children, and everyone else’s hopes for the season.

No point in dwelling on him, beyond the morbid curiosity that sparks such interest. I remembered my son, now in his forties and living in Las Vegas, when he was that age. I still remember how it felt when he bit his tongue in a spatter of blood when he was only two or so, and how for some seconds, I could not breathe. I could only imagine the pain of the parents—because when your children are that young, you want them first and ever to be safe and because you think a breath will knock them down. A paper cut looks like tragedy, and you love them more than yourself.

Immediately, the television chorus read the litany of other names—Aurora, Colo., the shootings at Fort Hood, the killings at Columbine, the precursor of every shot fired in calculated madness on school grounds, the killings at a Sikh Temple in Wisconsin, at McDonald’s, in work places, in parking lots and malls.

But this . . . this man targeted children, the children of Newtown, to be sure, but all our children, just the same. I live now in a neighborhood of new children, if you will, there’s been a baby boom of new young parents in the last decade. I’ve seen a generation growing up, from the ground up, so to speak—a new baby across the street. Samantha and her dog Edith down the street, Patrick around the corner and all the kids at the daycare center. I thought about them through the weekend.

The tragedy was a reminder that the President of the United States is a parent as well as a president, no more so than in his initial reaction to the tragedy, when he was speaking of the children and said “they were beautiful little kids.” He stopped, for a few second obviously stricken. It made headlines on the news—the president cried.

We all did, in one way or another. We forgot ourselves and thought of others, what consolation might come and when. And in the chronicles of the Newtown Bee, the local newspaper, there were tales of vigils, and pictures of stuffed animals, and glasses with candles, and services and memories of the victims, and the heroic sacrifices of the teachers and the first responders. All of this has been chronicled and don’t bear repeating by me, but none of it will be forgotten.

And now—and if not now, then when?—the debate, the cry for legislation, for gun safety, for a great national debate, or even—with great hope—a grass roots, parent-led movement that might take on our culture which has variously been called a culture of violence, guns or death. It should include from the view of non-but-not-un-Americans a puzzlement at this country’s attachment to guns, its almost defiant embrace of shooting targets, beer cans, critters and human beings—or as one congressman from Texas suggested that if the principal of the school had had an automatic pistol, she could have blown his head off.

This we know: the National Rifle Association, somewhat like a Grover Norquist on no tax increases, have a mysterious power to exact political allegiance on pain of losing elections in support of the right to bear arms, which not coincidentally benefits the manufacturers of guns enormously. We know for a fact that we lead the world in mass shootings, and homicides by gun, automatic or otherwise. We know that as the president and any number of people of good will have said in the wake of this slaying, that “enough is enough.” It is not “guns don’t kill people, people kill people, or even people with mental problems kill people.” Every person who has slaughtered others is different from every other person who has slaughtered people—they lost their jobs, they have been diagnosed as mentally ill, they’re seeking fame, they’re loners, they hate (the U.S., the country, the people that bullied them, their girlfriends, their employees, Batman and Robin, pick one). But they all have one thing in common: they killed numerous people and in this last case, innocent children, with guns. Look for the connection, and there it is, the pop pop sound at various volumes and speeds of guns.

How sad is this, that children should leave their blood in classrooms. How sad are these days: from the pulpit at the Washington National Cathedral, a minister called for action, and children in Christmas red sang “Silent Night” at a TV show’s opening and in a Newtown church fathers hugged their children who hugged their stuffed animals.

Newtown First Selectman Pat Llodra said at the service that “it is a defining moment for Newtown but it will not define us.”

It is a defining moment for the rest of us, also, and what we do—or fail to do—will define us.

Sprig & Sprout Shuts Down Temporarily — to Improve

December 13, 2012

Well, this is refreshing: a restaurant gives itself a bad review — and plans to re-open as a better operation.

After experiencing unmanageably large amounts of customers and order on its opening day, the new Pho and Viet sandwich shop Sprig and Sprout on Wisconsin Avenue in Glover Park near Whole Foods closed it doors until Friday while it reassesses the way it runs its business.

Sprig and Sprout on Monday and was unable keep up with the high volume of customers, causing them to temporarily close in order to reassess just one day after their initial opening.

“Boo,” commented Ri Das on the Sprig and Sprout Facebook page, “After all that waiting you guys ran out of food before we could order. If you had answered your phone, could have at least saved us the trip.”

However, in spite of these initial hiccups, many people have positive things to say about Sprig and Sprout, and support for the restaurant seems to be strong.

“Rome wasn’t built in a day!” said Diana McLaughlin Forbes said on Facebook, “You’ll get it right, and soon. Good luck Friday!”

People also praised the business’s transparency and quality of food. Starting on Friday, Sprig and Sprout will re-open with limited hours.

“It’s going to take a few weeks for us to get better and find our groove, so instead of jumping into the deep end we are going to get in slowly,” the owners explained on Facebook.

The restaurant, located at 2317 Wisconsin Ave., NW, has posted new hours:

Friday, lunch only, 11 a.m to 4 p.m.
Saturday, dinner only, 5 p.m. to 10 p.m.
Sunday, 11 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.; 5:30 p.m. to 10 p.m.

The Georgetowner’s Holiday Benefit & Bazaar 2012

December 11, 2012

Join us for a Golden Opportunity to give with an evening of shopping and holiday cheer as we honor and support a Gold Star in the Community:

The Georgetown Senior Center

Shop for unique gifts from select vendors.Warm your senses with seasonal cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. Gather in the joy of giving this holiday season.

HISTORIC GEORGE TOWN CLUB
1530 WISCONSIN AVENUE NW

Tickets can now only be purchased at the door for $65

“HEART OF GOLD” HOST COMMITTEE

Lolly Amons | Joe Clarke | Michele Conley | Michele Evans | Jade Floyd | Jeanne Jennings

KristaJohnson | Cami Mazard | Victoria Michael |Nancy Miyahira | Bob Pincus | Lesley Steiner

“GOLDMINE” BAZAAR SHOPS

Ella Rue | Queen Bee Jewelry | Sentsy | Ibhana | Georgetown Tobacco | Traci Lynn Jewelry

Kamisol Accessories | J McLaughlin | Georgetown Paperie | Homayoun Yershalmi | Stella & Dot |Chloe and Isabel

Cocktail Attire or “Golden Best”

Cocktails provided by Beam Global Spirits

Georgetown Ministries Coat Drive Location

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