So with the sweeping victory over the Al-Qaeda Cowboys on Sunday, I find myself swept up in a firestorm of Potomac Fever. I was going to gush about the whole DC experience, when it occurred to me that I actually lived in Arlington. So in the interest of intellectual honesty and as part of my ongoing commitment to integrity in spaz-blogging, I have split it into two parts. Hopefully, my friends back in the 202/703/571, who gave meaning to everything below, will concur in the validity of the lists.
WHAT DC MEANS TO ME:
Hail to the Redskins. The Pub Formerly Known As The 4Ps. Sonny and Sam. Bluegrass and Go-go. EB, Cakes, Lurch and JP. Don and Mike. Half-smokes. An Irish bar every five hundred yards. The 9:30 Club. HFS, back when HFS was really HFS. The lunchtime smoking club at Signature Cigar. The escalator to Hell at Dupont Circle. Rock Creek Parkway. Throwing down with a bunch of dugout lawyers during softball games on the Mall. Walk on the left, stand on the fucking right, tourist. Drinks at the Ritz-Carlton bar after movies in Georgetown. Gospel brunch at the Corcoran. Mac McGarry hosting “It’s Academic” on hungover Saturday mornings. Coffee at Xando, unless you’re close enough to walk to the Mudd House. Fuzagi’s “Waiting Room” for the Redskins defense, Chuck Brown’s “Bustin’ Loose” for the Nats and Mambo Sauce’s “Welcome to DC” for the Wizards. Lou Brutus and the Minister of Information, the Evil Alan Scott. Drinking at Felix, or the Blue Room, or Lucky Bar, or the 18th St Lounge, or the 4th Estate, or Mackey’s, or Recessions, or Pharmacy Bar. Barra Brava and the Screaming Eagles. The Greek Festival and homemade baklava. Standing on the Metro between a smoking-hot GWU co-ed on one side and a 2-star general in full Class A on the other. Lunch at Fran O’Brien’s the Friday before the Dallas game. Greasy pizza from the place on the corner and a McDonald’s that takes 45 minutes to get your order right.
WHAT NORTHERN VIRGINIA MEANS TO ME:
Turning leaves in Ballston walking down Glebe Road to Harris Teeter, or CVS, or the mall, or the movies, or the metro. Friday night in Clarendon. Swing dance lessons from Tom and Debra. Movies at Court House. Old Virginia Tobacco Company and SJ-9 cigars. The walk back up Wilson Boulevard into the setting sun after work. Plotting the demise of the leisure class in the middle of Tyson’s II. Games at Bailey’s in that huge frathouse basement of a bar. Christmas shopping at Pentagon City, staring four levels down into the food court. Grocery shopping at Giant and Fresh Fields. A pint at the Four Courts on the way home. World Cup watchers staggering out of the bar at 4 AM…or staggering in at 6. The original Apple Store at Tyson’s I. The long drive down 7 to Landsdowne, or Stirling, or Dulles Town Center. The sandcrawlers at IAD taking you out to the jetBlue terminal. The original Five Guys on Columbia Pike. Burgers and beer at Hard Times. The daily mob scene at Potomac Mills and IKEA. High school football at Washington & Lee and Lake Braddock. Square pizza from Mario’s at 3 AM, delivered. The couch at Common Grounds. The complete indispensability of the Orange Line.
Forgetting anything?
I forget you don’t always check your email in the other location, so I’ll repeat my comment here:
I think you nailed the NoVa stuff pretty well. Some other things to consider are snow on the ground, especially around your parked car that you don’t need to drive, watching Star Wars in Stirling, driving through George Washington Parkway in the spring and fall, and I know there was something else I was going to add when I decided to comment, but then forgot. =P
As for DC, I would consider adding something about Union Station, especially how easily it can whisk you off to NYC for a weekend.