Editorials and Opinions

Jack Evans • July 31, 2013

Is it summer yet? I think that with the arrival of July 4th and high temperatures reaching 100 degrees we have removed all doubt. Take a moment to check in with your elderly or ill neighbors who might need a little assistance. Weather like this can effect even the healthiest of us.

This 4th of July, I began my celebration as I always do at the annual Palisades 4th of July Parade. This was the parade’s 46th year. For those of you unfamiliar with the parade, this is a throwback to another time – a real small town parade. It usually begins at 11 a.m. at the corner of Whitehaven Parkway and MacArthur Boulevard, NW. It continues along MacArthur Boulevard for about a mile before turning left to end at the Palisades Park. As an elected official, I always enjoy the opportunity to participate in local parades with family and friends. While I walked, others rode in the car or joined me walking and threw candy to all those watching and cheering along the parade route.

This year, what with all the elections going on, there seemed to be even more politicians than usual. But what would the 4th of July be without politicians? After the parade, we joined hundreds of others at the Palisades Park for hot dogs, drinks and ice cream – kudos to the organizers for a great event.

After we cooled off and caught our breath, we headed to another park, this time a ballpark. Yes, the Nationals were in town, so off to Nationals Park we went. It was a gorgeous day for a baseball game, though a bit hot. In light of the 11:05 am start time, I missed about half of the game. There was still plenty of action from the Nationals’ hitters in the later innings, though, with the Nationals beating San Francisco 9 to 4. The Nationals always seem to shine on the 4th of July – I read that Ryan Zimmerman is now 10 for 20 with four homers and 13 RBIs in six Independence Day games.

The next step in this great day was a trip home for a break and then off to watch the fireworks. What a terrific 20-minute fireworks display!

Neighborhood parades, Major League Baseball, world class fireworks – where else can you stay home and get all that? ?

Gary Tischler •

Tuesday morning, as I accompanied Bailey on his daily constitutional around the two square blocks of Lanier Place, you could see only a few signs indicating that anything special happened there the night before.

Here and there were wispy spider webs on trees and doorways, a hank of web, scattered bones, two skeletons and hooded ghosts hanging from a tree. All the pumpkins survived the night and the glorious scarecrow lay sprawled over hay as before.

But it wasn’t the same. People were going to work as if nothing had happened. The only true signs were the periodic wrappings of M&M’s candies, of Snickers and Mars Bars and Three Musketeers, Nestles and Hershey bar wrappers on the sidewalks – all that was left of last night’s candy land.

Then you could say it was Halloween night at Lanier Place.

Once again, we took Bailey, our long-legged fifteen-year-old Bichon, trick or treating. He wore his festive, seasonal and decorative plastic collar full of little pumpkins and bats. It’s called, appropriately, a “ruff.” He looked at the occasion like any of the myriad bumblebees we encountered along the way.

The two blocks of Lanier Place are a change-resistant, residential area in Adams Morgan making up Lanier Heights, which stretches out to Adams Mill Road, Quarry, Harvard and Ontario. The Lanier block consists mostly of old three-story and basement homes where ownership has often been a lifelong thing. It includes several unobtrusive apartment houses, a fire station—one small truck and EMS vehicle—that dates back to the turn of last century, the Adams Inn, a hidden-away bed and breakfast, good-to-go fully decorated and Joseph’s House, a non-profit hospice serving homeless people with terminal illnesses.

We have lived here for almost all of Bailey’s life span so far, and taking Bailey trick or treating in his ruff has become a tradition with us, and, we like to think, a tradition in the neighborhood. I managed to cop some chocolate candy for myself on the basis of his presence.

I don’t know when the Lanier Halloween festivities actually started—I seem to remember that it was a smallish neighborhood thing for a previous generation of neighborhood young children and their parents. Every year, it seemed to get bigger and better—streets were blocked off and children from all over the city and their folks showed up. It must have begun as a rumor that was passed along the 42 Metrobus line to points east, west, and northwest and southeast and so on.

Over the past few years, Halloween at Lanier Place has become a big deal and it seems to get a little bigger every year. This year was no exception. More children and people showed up—hundreds is my guess. But there was another difference. First, there has been an influx over the past few years of younger residents who promptly had babies so that there are now young children, just old enough to become butterflies, superheroes and witches and princesses. Second, more people are participating. Houses have turned into ghost homes, pirate islands and cemeteries. For a few days, spider webs rule like ominous dew on the blocks.

There are, of course, always people who go all out—gravestones rise from the ground, there are a smoke machines and signs that pass as warnings for travelers and Trick or Treaters. This year, few people stayed locked up in their apartments, houses or whatever, although there are traditionally always a few of those, too.

The cool thing about Halloween on Lanier Place—unlike the gargantuan almost New Orleans style efforts at night in Georgetown and elsewhere—is that somehow the people who live on Lanier and nearby drift in and out as if at a small town market. Gossip gets retold, the presence of long-time neighborhood dogs like Bailey are duly noted by each other and by their owners, politics gets talked about, children are hailed for walking or getting bigger. All the daily life changes—growth, time, illness, death, pregnancy, school, births and jobs and the like are duly noted amid the festivities without the visitors, who come here just for the candy and the treating and tricking.

Bailey takes all of this in stride—it’s a little hard for a dog his age to deal with this many people, especially so many children. It was as if his regular walk had turned into a parade of chatter and music. But he makes it all the way around because in some ways, the dogs of Lanier are an essential part of this, not as much as the children, but still a part of it all.

This year, for reasons hard to decipher, amid the gloomy economic news, the occasion seemed more electric and eclectic, warmer and chummier, as if neighborhood values and virtues were worth celebrating this way after all. So the hospice created a kind of pirate island, complete with what could haves been a voodoo queen at the top of the stairs. And the old tombstone—the Republican Party, died 2008 nearly four years old now—gave you a clue as if you needed one that you were in a liberal neighborhood.

The grandfather down the street somehow morphed into one of the finest, most splendidly caped Count Draculas, a smiling Christopher Lee with white face, red lips and natural white hair. We met along the way, almost one right after another, the Marvel Comics pantheon: Iron Man, Spider Man and Captain America complete with shield. The little girls opted for the princess style or June bugs or bumblebees. There was a group in front of us, led by a princess speaking German, so naturally, being a landsman, I asked “Bist Du Deutch?” and they said “Nein, wier bien Franzosish,” meaning they were French folks speaking German. So there was a mystery here.

Children flocked to the firehouse and the red engines where the firemen were dressed as, surprise, firemen. A small boy came as a 19th-century New York cop and was asked if he was on the take. His father said “we’ll take some candy.” A brash alarm sounded, scattering Tricksters and Treaters and parents and kids alike as a fire engine wheeled out.

We saw a very tall green Leprechaun and monkeys and Thor and an adult Batman—but then Batman has never seemed anything less than adult. We met folks, as always, who knew the famous Bailey but alas knew not our names. It happens even or perhaps especially on Halloween.

There were ghosts everywhere; including the faces of people I hadn’t seen in a while.

It was a splendid night. Nobody got mad, nobody got hurt, nobody was robbed that we know of, nobody got sick or drunk that we know of. It was the night, as I do every year, I walked Bailey around the two blocks of Lanier on Halloween.

Georgetowner • July 17, 2013

“This Town” by Mark Leibovich, chief national correspondent for the New York Times Magazine, has finally arrived, preceded by the kind of buzz the author would appreciate, since buzz, D.C. style, is one of the big subjects of this book, a florid, razzy, snarky, funny, book which is, and we’re guessing, probably sharply accurate like a poke in the eye, followed by a stinger (the drink).

We haven’t finished our copy, which arrived in the mail from the publisher so fast, we thought we heard the skid marks being made. There’s been quite a bit of hype and glory attached to this work already — so much so you feel as if you’ve already read it before opening the book.

But by God, give the guy credit — it’s a cannot-put downer full of attitude, big and little names and the confusion between them in this town, where the gap between politics, lobbying, celebrity and deity, real power and pretend power is practically non existent. The subtitle tells it all: “Two parties, a funeral — plus plenty of valet parking — in America’s gilded capital.” The funerals (Tim Russert’s and Ted Kennedy’s among them) and the parties (those thrown by the redoubtable Tammy Haddad ) frame a portrait of a kind of Washington merry-go-round post Drew Pearson, where riders hug the horses and each other closely, some of them falling off, others jumping on.

Most refreshing of all in this account of insiders is that Leibovitch is himself part of that round-and-round ride which only adds flavor to the book.

Georgetowner •

The District Council has passed the so-called “Living Wage” legislation. Like so many issues we talk about today, it is, of course, not over.

Now, it’s Mayor Vincent Gray’s turn to have the final say–or not.

The council–by the exact same vote (8-5) of the first reading of the legislation–voted for the bill–aka the Large Retailer Accountability Act–which forces large retailers like Walmart with more than a billion in annual sales and stores larger than 74,000 square feet pay a minimum (or liveable) wage of $12.50 an hour, which is over four bucks higher than the District’s minimum wage of $8.25 an hour and five bucks higher than the federal minimum wage of $7.25.
The mayor has 10 days from the time he gets the legislation to approve or veto it. So far, he has said neither yea nor nay. All indications are he might veto it, perhaps, as he’s said to the media, also tweeting the wage rate up by fifty cents or a dollar.
District Council Chairman Phil Mendelson pushed this particular bill, which comes with Walmart after years of avoiding the District for store sites, starting three projects and is planning three more. This comes with the traditional hallmark of Walmart — low wages but lots of jobs, and more important perhaps to shoppers, low prices. Prospects of the approval of the bill caused Walmart to threaten to shelve, in the very least, plans for three stores and perhaps stop construction on the other three.
Mayor Gray — who’s always been a hard-working supporter for bringing in new and major retail projects into the poorer wards of the District, including Ward 7, where he lives, as well as Wards 5, 4, 6 and 8 — faces a dilemma. Passage of the legislation could threaten the Skyland Shopping Center project in Ward 7 which would not happen without a Walmart store as its lynch pin.

The timing for the legislation — which could also affect such local retailers as Macy’s and Whole Foods — seems strange and unnecessarily challenging, almost like an I-dare-you approach to attracting business. According to reports, at-large Councilmember Vincent Orange, who voted for the legislation said, “We’re at a point where we don’t need retailers. Retailers need us.” That kind of unwelcoming and unwelcome bravado is hardly likely to change hearts and minds.
It seems to us that the legislation is hasty, unnecessarily combative and was arrived at in a way that lacks due consideration and public input. It may — as both Ward 4 Councilmember Muriel Bowser and Ward 6 Councilmember Tommy Wells have suggested — cost the District jobs and bargain shopping and hurt its ability and reputation to attract major retailers and business.

It also comes at a time when people are starting to think about the upcoming mayor’s race. Bowser and Wells are both running as is Ward 2 Councilmember Jack Evans, who voted for the legislation. The mayor has not indicated whether or not he would run again. In the end, though, this legislation is a politically charged issue as well. Ward 7 Councilmember Yvette Alexander voted against the legislation, while Ward 8 Councilmember Marion Barry voted for it. Go figure.

Georgetowner • July 4, 2013

It’s the Fourth of July, as American as apple pie or Google, as we celebrate our country, our traditions, the way we live, eat, pray and love, march in parades, raise our children and pets, play and dance and sing our songs old and new.

In any parade, you’ll see soldiers, the drummer boy, the fife player, the revolutionary soldier with his rifle and bandaged head and faux Jeffersons, Franklins and Washingtons, heading for the park or the backyard and the barbecue and fireworks, if they haven’t been cancelled due to the sequester or the daily rain storms. We’ll look to the night skies on the National Mall, look out for squalls and bad weather and think of the Founding Fathers.

Those fathers might recognize themselves in a parade but have a little more trouble recognizing their surroundings. In Washington, D.C., they would hear echoes of the cannon fire from Gettysburg but also the noises and murmurs of our political battles from DOMA to the Capitol Dome, the shadows of big government and the foibles of small government. Today, we worry about immigration—whom to let in, how to keep them from coming or bring them to citizenship, a question asked in small towns and argued in the shadow of the Statue of Liberty.

It’s the Fourth of July—sodas and crackerjacks, and heroes dead in forest fires amid horrible heat. It’s baseball and spying, by the government of this nation and other governments, while in the Middle East, thousands are demonstrating for freedom.
We will watch Harper and Zimmerman and zombies this Fourth of July and celebrate ourselves in the Whitman manner, when he was celebrating not just himself but ourselves. We will again come to the National Mall by the thousands with Lincoln perched on his timeless chair, watching, it seems sometimes wistfully.

It is the Fourth of July, a Thursday like no other Thursday in 2013 in the capital city of Washington where we live in the world.

Georgetowner •

Is there anything more confusing, less understandable and more irritating than the NSA leaking sandal, or the contemps and characterizations surrounding the travels and would-be travels and status of the leaker Edward Snowden?

Snowden is being both pilloried (by the government and elected officials) and praised (by some in the media) and helped (by Wiki Leaks, the wholesale leakers of secret information), and fussed over by the world and by potential (and reluctant) asylum givers.

Many Americans don’t know exactly what to make of it all—the words traitor and hero regards Snowden seem to be used interchangeably. His travels have put international relations among major powers in a state of tense stasis
Now Vladimir Putin has Snowden on his hands in Moscow, and he seems hesitant to let him go or let him stay, send him on his way or protect him.

This seems to me momentously serious stuff, but in terms of understanding, a little like trying to hang on to jello. Secrets, freedom of the press, (including the freedom to perhaps cool it for a while), the dark spectre of governments spying on each other (as if they didn’t before) are all part of the stories. It seems like a muddle from which we, and for sure the Obama administration will never disengage itself. I spy, you spy, we spy, they spy, but does anybody really know (or want to know) what Everybody is doing?

Mark Plotkin •

As we begin our celebration of our nation’s birthday, we in Washington, D.C., have a special reason to celebrate. On June 19, for the very first time, the citizens of D.C. were finally represented in the U.S. Capitol Building.

No, unfortunately, it was not with a voting representative or two U.S. senators, but with a glorious and magnificent sculpture in Emancipation Hall of D.C. resident and freedom fighter, Frederick Douglass.

Each of the 50 states has at least one statue. We, until a few weeks ago, had none.

A little history is in order. Many years ago, I observed a memorable ceremony in Statuary Hall in the Capitol Building. Sacajawea, the Native American who guided Lewis and Clark on their Northwestern expedition, was being honored with a statue. It seemed to me the entire state of North Dakota was there. There was such a wonderful spirit of state solidarity and pride. I thought to myself: why doesn’t D.C. have a statue of its own?

I once had a very brief conversation with former Speaker of the House Dennis Hastert about this idea. Hastert was extremely unpleasant and hostile to the idea. In fact, he mumbled that “Then, the territories will want one,” (as if they were not U.S. citizens too).

On my radio commentaries and in articles, I frequently mentioned how a statue could be a catalyst for concrete action towards full D.C. statehood.

On July 15, 2012, I wrote an op-ed piece in the local opinions page of the Washington Post, headlined “Monuments to the Mistreatment of the District.” Accompanying the article was a picture of the sculpture of Douglass which Steven Weitzman had so beautifully done.

On June 19, the ceremony finally took place. But the ceremony was seriously marred by one of our own elected officials, who failed to share the credit for this momentous moment. D.C. Delegate Eleanor Holmes Norton navigated the bill through Congress but she never once mentioned the essential role that others played.

First of all, Norton did not even have the courtesy to acknowledge or recognize our present Mayor Vincent Gray or former Mayors Sharon Pratt, Anthony Williams and widow of the first appointed and elected Mayor Walter Washington, Mary Washington. She couldn’t have missed them. They were sitting in the front row.

Second, she ignored the sculptor Steve Weitzman, who lovingly created this powerful presence in bronze. This was inexcusable.

And, finally, the councilmember who secured the funding and was most responsible for the statue actually being constructed, Jack Evans, was never acknowledged. This brazen and deliberate omission by Norton has to be called out.

The highlight of the day was the inspiring remarks of House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi and, best of all, Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid’s stirring endorsement of D.C. statehood by saying he had “signed on” to the D.C. statehood bill.

Sen. Tom Carper, D-Del., the introducer of the bill, said he would hold hearings in the fall. The statue had achieved its purpose. Now, things are starting to happen.

Georgetowner • June 20, 2013

This should be an interesting, even energetic time for politics in the District of Columbia. While the lineup may not be complete, with the official announcement of Ward 2 Councilman Jack Evans into the mayoral fray, there are now three council members in the race to replace Mayor Vincent Gray.

Gray himself has so far declined to say whether he will run for re-election or not. Although it’s fair to say that in normal times, he’s got a pretty good record to run on, what with a boom in population and development projects all over the city and a fat budget surplus in the kitty.

Except . . .

What is everybody—the politicos, the media, the wags in the neighborhoods—talking about? Michael Brown, the ex-at-large-Independent-Democrat councilman caught in a federal sting operation accepting money-for-influence from agents posing as small business folks. In addition, there’s a wire donation to Brown from developer Jeffrey Thompson, who, along with the mayor’s election campaign, is still being investigated by U.S. Attorney Ronald C. Machen, Jr., and his office for running a shadow campaign which collected more than $600,000 for the Gray campaign.

At the same time, it appeared that at-large councilman Vincent Orange was being talked to by federal investigators in relation to contributions from Thompson.

Brown pleaded guilty last week to bribery charges and admitted a relationship to Thompson and accepting an illegal contribution from him.

Corruption in D.C. politics and rumors that the ongoing federal investigations were about to heat up were the talk of the town, not the relative merits and chances of Evans, Ward 4 council member Muriel Bowser and Ward 6 council member Tommy Wells, all of whom have announced that they are running for mayor.

Wells has made a point about focusing on ethics in his campaign.

If you look at the latest developments, you can see several things happening. One of them is that to be a political blue blood in this city is no guarantee that you are safe from temptation, even if you’re electorally successful. With Michael Brown’s guilty plea, the chit chat starts all over again: what is the matter with elected officials in the District?

We’ve sat down with Michael Brown—the son of Ron Brown, President Clinton’s Secretary of Commerce, who was killed in a plane crash—and found him, as other colleagues have, to be smart and full of ideas. Kwame Brown, who resigned as chairman of the District Council, was a highly thought-of, risen-from-the-community and local-politics native son. Harry Thomas, Jr., a powerful, stirring orator and the son of a long-time council member, is serving time in prison for taking money from funds earmarked for youth programs.

All of them had the best jump starts politicians can get here—membership in successful political families and being highly regarded members of their communities. That’s a lot of political talent squandered to the interests of what can only be called venality of the sort that smacks of entitlement and arrogance.

They’re also cautionary tales about the political arena and anybody who steps foot in it. There’s always the danger that you’re going to step in it. The local list includes former Mayor Marion Barry, a man once so powerful that the media’s sarcastic honorary title of mayor for life was not that far from reality until he was toppled in spectacular fashion. Barry, now the Ward 8 council member, was one of the most gifted politicians we’ve seen around here—he had the same ability to embrace crowds and people and was as popular as Bill Clinton, who also managed to trip up spectacularly.

The list of successful politicians who’ve also entered the valley of “What-were-they-thinking?” is a long one. Local pundits are whispering that may get longer soon.

We can only cross our fingers and hope that the outcome is otherwise.