One of the biggest changes I’ve come across in my new job and residence is, surprisingly, not the people or size of the city comparitively to Ashland, Ohio. Though there is a certain amount of culture shock involved in moving to a big place like the DC Metro Area, it subsides quickly. What I can’t get used to is the rat race that is the daily commute to and from the city.
Each morning, I venture out in my automobile on a 29-mile journey that takes anywhere between 45 and 90 minutes, depending on what crashes have occurred during the rush hour and what idiots are having trouble merging. Massive amounts of traffic. Everywhere. All the time. The drive is more exhausting than working, and it takes every bit of concentration I’ve got. It becomes sort of an instinctual thing; you learn exactly where the traffic patterns change, what types of drivers will cut you off and who is a fresh enrollee in the Beltway academy of driving.
The Beltway, as many of you know, is the collection of I-*95 (*insert 2,3, or 4 here) roads that makes up the highway circling Washington. Though many Washington “outsiders” (as Sarah Palin likes to say), the Beltway is the de facto boundary between the real America and the “fake” one inside. For those who use the roadways everyday, the Beltway is more like a driving Ring of Fire where the weak are quickly relegated to the right by those with the highly prized person in the passenger side who are eligible for the coveted HOV lane. I’m still not sure what “HOV” stands for, but I’m sure it’s something sweet, since I’m never allowed in it.
When I get stuck in traffic like I did this morning (due to a truck being crashed off the side of the road. No lane blockage, but it caused traffic to creep at 0-5 mph for miles), I like to glance over at the other souls marooned in their small cars that double as human cages. What are they doing? Some are talking on phones, some smoking cigarettes, some are clenching the wheels with white knuckles. On occasion, I see someone I recognize from a previous drive. Alas, stuck in my car, we’ll never meet. It’s a very odd world.
Chicago: To make a long story short, I saw the Mountain Goats, Mission Burma and a few others at Pitchfork. Though I would rather see all these groups in a club atmosphere, it’s hard to beat the price. The big highlight of the trip was that I got to hang out with David in his own territory. He showed Jon and I all the great places to hang out in his neighborhood (hat tip to the taco shop…those chile rellenos were clutch!). Though in great pain, we braved the heat and made it to sonotheque and saw A-Trak, Kanye’s touring DJ. A HOT time was had. The dancing was fun even though I move like I’ve got a metal rod fused to my spine. On the way out I was upset because Matthew Herbert was going to be at the club later in the month. No troubles: he’ll be in Cleveland a week from Tuesday. Reference:
It takes me so long to actually write on here. Even after I changed it to make it easier for myself.
So, the last few weeks have been pretty fun. Not too long ago, Lindsey and I headed out to Toronto, Ontario, for the weekend. A few years ago, you could drive up there and have a hell of a time for really cheap because the US dollar was so strong against the Canadian dollar. Not the case any longer. Those Canucks have done well for themselves.
Lindsey and I got a room at Global Village Backpackers, which is run by young people who are organized about 45 percent of the time (we had to check out of our room the first night and check in two hours later in the room next door). Despite unfortunate hippie management, we were able to sleep alright.
We got rained on a bunch and I had to do some major public relations whith Lindsey to convince her we were having a good time. Saw the provincal (sp?) capital building, ate in Yonge/Eglington and Little Italy. Stumbled upon a hip-hop festival where some kids were breakin’ like they just stole a token for the bullet. Made the obligatory stop @ Eaton Centre to marvel at the potency of American capitalism in other countries. All-in-all, a good time.
I’m getting a little tired now, so I’m going to close this one up. I went to Chicago the next weekend to see the Pitchfork…I won’t write about the festival because you can probably read about it on about 3,000 other blogs like this. I will write about the rest of the trip.
