Biker's Heaven?

After doing a little more research, I'm starting to think the the Metro DC area may be heaven for bikers (that's bicyclists, silly). Look at the map below...

[Map Courtesy of BikeWashington.org]

I've ridden the Capital Crescent Trail, and the Rock Creek Trail. Tomorrow, I'm riding a portion of the Mount Vernon. I've been on a very small part of the Chesapeake and Ohio Trail (C&O), and I'm anxious to do more. Seriously, is there anything this area doesn't have? (besides a fantastic job offer for yours truly...)

Catching Up...

I have a few random things and loose ends to address, so, here they are...

NAME THAT CAR

After taking an early lead, the name "E" has fallen into a distant second place behind "The Raft" in the naming poll for my car. I like "E" but I like "The Raft" also, so I think I can live with it. As of now, there is a little bit of time left to vote. If the members are available, I would expect the Executive Naming Committee to meet this weekend.

RIGHT WAY TO ROCK CREEK

On Tuesday, I didn't want a long bike ride, but I wanted to get some hard exercise in before I went out for pizza with my hovel-mates. I decided to re-trace my steps along the Matthew Henson Trail, and see if I could find the proper connection to the Rock Creek trail. I studied the map before I left, and, sure enough, found the right way to Rock Creek. It was a good, fast 10 mile ride, and now I know the way to go next time.

WEEKEND IN THE SADDLE

Tomorrow, I will probably break out the road bike for the first time in ages. Since I'm down 20 pounds in the last two months, I probably won't horrify as many people if I break out the bike shorts as well. Right now, the plan is to throw the bike in the back of the car (The Raft?), and drive down to to Belle Haven Park (just south of Alexandria, Va), and follow the paved path to Mount Vernon.

If you look on the map below, the parking area is the skinny road to the right of both markers for Route 400. The bike trail parallels the George Washington Memorial Parkway to Mount Vernon. From that starting point, it should be about a 16 mile round trip ride - long enough for someone whose buttocks haven't graced the seat of a road bike in a while.


View Larger Map

If you double-click on the map to zoom in, the narrow bike trail is visible just to the right of the long parking lots (you have to zoom pretty closely, but you can see the white dashes painted on the trail to guide and separate northbound and southbound traffic). You can click the link to view a larger map, and navigate around from there to get your bearings.

The trail starts further north, at Theodore Roosevelt Island...

View Larger Map

After a few attempts at shorter distances to get comfortable on the bike, I will do the whole length of the Mount Vernon trail. It's about 30 miles round trip, which is my usual distance when I'm in "training."

I must say, I have already discovered that the George Washington Memorial Parkway makes for a fantastic drive home at the end of the day. It runs right along the Potomac, and, as you drive north,the setting sun on the left hits the Mall across the river on the right, and makes for some stunning late afternoon scenery.

I'm looking forward to it.

You Name It (Part 2)

It's not too late to vote for a name for me car. "The Raft" has taken the lead despite strong early sentiment for "E."

The Rockets' Red Glare

On Sunday I decided I should drive somewhere interesting, and then park and walk around. After Saturday's long bike ride, another day in the saddle didn't seem like a great idea, but I wanted exercise of some sort, and, having gone five weeks without one, it's still kind of a novelty to me to actually have a car. So I thought I would drive to Annapolis, and then wander around for a few hours.

As I sped up I-95 near Baltimore, I saw a road sign pointing the way to a destination I hadn't even considered, but which now seemed like a fantastic idea: Ft. McHenry.

In case you don't know, Ft. McHenry was the scene of the famous British bombardment during the War of 1812 that inspired Francis Scott key to write the poem that we now know as the Star Spangled Banner.

The fort's commander, Major George Armistead had specifically requested a flag "so large that the British would have no difficulty seeing it from a distance." It was his way of thumbing his nose at the enemy. The original flag (currently on display at the Smithsonian) was 30 feet by 42 feet - so large that a smaller "storm" flag had also been made to fly when the pull of high winds would have snapped a pole flying the larger flag.

Two interesting side notes here:

First, storm clouds were brewing as I poked around the fort, and the rising winds caused the park rangers to enlist visitors to help pull down the gigantic replica flag...

...and raise the much smaller "storm" flag in its place.

Secondly, George Armistead's nephew, Lew Armistead, would die nearly forty-nine years later when the brigade he commanded pierced the center of the Union line and advanced to the "high water mark of the Confederacy" during Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg.

In September of 1814, the British had just captured and burned Washington, DC, and were moving on Baltimore. Francis Scott Key and another man had been taken aboard the British flagship HMS Tonnant under a flag of truce. They hoped to negotiate the release of Dr. William Beanes, an elderly Maryland physician who had been detained by the invaders because he had allegedly arranged the arrest of wounded British soldiers who had fallen under his care. So it was that Key watched the bombardment of Ft. McHenry from a British warship.

The British chose to shell the fort with heavy mortars and Congreve rockets, allowing them to stay beyond the effective range of McHenry's guns but also limiting the accuracy of their own weapons. Despite launching nearly 2,000 projectiles at the fort over the course of a rainy twenty-five hours, the British could cause little real damage, and finally sailed away.

The sight of the flag flying over the fort as daylight approached inspired Key to scribble his thoughts on the back of a letter he carried in his pocket. The lines that became our national anthem are familiar to all, but the original poem actually had three additional verses (click HERE for the full text).

You can tell, even from the satellite view on Google Maps, that the fort is marvelously maintained by the National Park Service. It is a popular attraction for visitors and a favorite recreation spot for Baltimore residents.


View Larger Map

The fort saw no further action after the British bombardment, but served as a prison during the Civil War, and was the site of a large hospital during World War I (dozens of buildings were constructed on the grounds without damaging the original structure), and a Coast Guard training station during World War II.


It's exactly the kind of place I like to visit when I can combine a drive, a walk, and a bit of our nation's history.

Wrong Way to Rock Creek

Yesterday, I went for the longest bike ride I’ve taken in quite some time. I’m trying to work my way back into good biking shape. At one point I was doing 100 miles a week regularly, and I’d like to get into that habit again. It’s amazing how much better you feel when you drop a few pounds and make an effort to sweat a bit on a regular basis.

I decided to ride a brand new trail that passes just a half mile north of my hovel. It’s called the Matthew Henson Trail. The pavement and the planks on the boardwalks and bridges are in great condition. My intention was to follow that to its end, and, from there, pick up the trail that parallels Rock Creek all the way to the Potomac in DC. That would be a 15 or 16 mile ride which, on a mountain bike, is a pretty respectable distance.

When I crossed Veirs Mill Road there was a detour. Somehow, I ended up near the Twinbrook Metro station in Rockville; very much out of the way. I knew the bus depot at the Metro station would have a good map, and, while I was able to get re-oriented, I realized I had ridden a few miles off my intended route. I don’t know where I got lost but I had certainly discovered the wrong way to Rock Creek.

Even when I finally found the Rock Creek trail, I managed to tilt off to side trails that twice deteriorated into narrow dirt paths. I was glad my first attempt at this trail was on my mountain bike, and not my road bike with its delicate tires.

[As I write this, I Googled “Rock Creek bike trail” and found a website called BikeWashington.org that has a map (HERE) of the portion of the trail that gave me trouble. The very first sentence on that page is, “This section is notorious for getting people lost.” If, indeed, I am an idiot, apparently I’m not the only one!]

Despite my navigational difficulties, I must say that Rock Creek Park is fantastic. (There is an excellent National Park Service map HERE). It is yet another park whose origins lay in the string of fortifications that surrounded Washington DC during the Civil War. While riding the length of the park, from top to bottom, I passed many playgrounds, soccer fields, tennis courts, and picnic areas – all of which were being put to good use. I continue to be amazed at how many people take advantage of the plentiful parks and public recreation facilities in the city. Over and over I passed family barbecues, kids flying kites and playing Frisbee, parents relaxing and reading in camp chairs, and young couples lounging on the grass or along the banks of the creek.

When I could, I enjoyed the scenery, but the ride wasn’t easy. The terrain was undulating, with each restful downhill offset by a short, steep climb. The path followed the course of the creek, so very little of it was straight. Occasionally, I would burst from under the covering trees into the clear – which was good because it gave me a chance to get my bearings, but not good because it exposed me to a 20 mph headwind that happened to be blowing up the Rock Creek valley from the Potomac. I don’t know how you react when faced with a 20 mph headwind while riding your bike. My usual reaction is to yell things that would offend most people.

By the time I reached the bottom (southern end) of the park, I had been in the saddle for 20 miles. I had two half-liter water bottles with me, and stopped at drinking fountains along the way to fill them both several times. Salt caked my cheeks from sweat that had poured from my forehead and dried. I felt great!

Suddenly, the trail joined the road, and the road curved to the left, and I was in front of the Kennedy Center riding along the Potomac River. I stopped to snap two quick photos on this hazy day.

To my right, the river and the Memorial Bridge across to Arlington...

To my left, people using public volleyball nets in the shadow of the Washington Monument (just barely visible in the distance behind the net on the left)...

From there I made a few laps around the National Mall, then went up 7th Street to G Street, where I dropped down the elevator that put me and my bike into the Gallery Place-Chinatown Metro station for the train ride home.

I learned that padded shorts are necessary, even on a mountain bike, if I'm going to ride long distances! (Yesterday turned out to be about 25 miles in the end). I learned I am finally fit enough to dust the cobwebs off my road bike and really put some miles behind me. And I hope I learned the right way to get to the Rock Creek trail next time.

You Name It

I think my car needs a name. I don't know why. It's been ages since I had a car with a name. If you've known me for a long time, you may remember the car I used to call "The Land Yacht." It was a '72 Chrysler Newport that I bought for $300, and it was so big I'm pretty sure you could have landed a helicopter on the roof.

I decided to take a poll of my faithful readers to see what you think. Jennifer suggested the name "McKinley" - after the mountain that fascinates me (and we already have a "Denali" in the family - Kami's dog).

I threw in a couple of ideas of my own. "The Green Monster" is obviously a reference to the left field wall at Fenway Park, and, it seems appropriate because the station wagon is pretty big and, well... green. "The Raft" is a bit of an inside joke that most of you will understand, but also refers to the fact that the car represents my method of "drifting" back to Florida if or when the need arises. "E" is kind of a play on words that reflects the ever-changing nature of things. E-volv...o. Comprende? Verstehen Sie? I know. It's kind of silly, but, then again, I'm kind of silly.

Take a minute to vote on the Official Poll just to the right of this post. Or write a comment or send me an e-mail with your name suggestion, and I'll add it to the poll.

I should forewarn you that the decision will ultimately be made by the Executive Naming Committee which consists of... ME! All decisions are final. I'll have to schedule a meeting with myself before the naming is official. At that point, I will issue a statement to the media, and distribute invitations to the christening ceremony.

More Fragments...

SERIOUSLY?

I don't know who Jon and Kate are. I don't care. What bothers me is that so many people DO seem to care. I can't get away from the story. It pervades even mainstream media outlets that I once thought were credible. If your life isn't at least as interesting as theirs, I want to ask you two questions: 1) Why not? 2) What are you doing about it?

I NEVER KNEW THIS

When I visited Antietam National Battlefield last weekend, I learned something that I thought was fascinating. Beginning in 1890, as veterans of the greatest battles of the Civil War began to look for proper ways to commemorate the struggles in which they participated, they faced the usual issues involved in raising funds and procuring the land necessary for "military parks." When things looked bleak, they found an unexpected ally. A report by the Military Affairs Committee of the House of Representatives noted the following:

"The preservation for national study of the lines of decisive battles, especially when the tactical movements were unusual both in numbers and military ability, and when the fields embraced great natural difficulties, may properly be regarded as a matter of national importance."

They felt these sites had value as the subject of military study, and so it was that the five original National Battlefields - Antietam, Chickamauga, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Vicksburg - were created. They were administered by the War Department and treated as open-air classrooms for officers. To enable their "pupils" to get a better view of the surrounding terrain, in 1896, the War Department built this tower adjacent to the famous "Bloody Lane" at Antietam...

[Photo by Thad Zajdowicz at JPGMag.com]

According to a sign near the tower, these parks were "turned over to the National Park Service in 1933 as the government tried to consolidate public lands." I always wondered why those major battlefields were so well-preserved. Now I know. Efforts to protect them began long before anybody could build convenience stores there.

Incidentally, the view above would have looked like this after the battle...

[Photo Courtesy of the National Park Service]

If you've never been to any of these battlefields (I have been to all except Shiloh), I urge you to go. They provide some of the most spectacular settings for the study of Civil War history and the remembrance of those who fought.

A DAY IN THE LIFE

I wonder if I have given the impression that I spend my time exploring, eating mussels and drinking wine. I suppose I spent more than enough time doing that initially, but the last several weeks have been difficult, to say the least.

In June, a runaway tow truck destroyed my car, cable and internet service at my hovel went awry for a week, my cell phone died and, thanks to a glitch in my provider's website, its replacement took 10 days to arrive. All of this was followed by the Metro crash on June 22 - which made getting anywhere difficult - and then reports of multiple episodes of fraudulent charges on two different credit cards of mine, the net value of which was around $1400. It could have been worse.

Add to that the fact that the resumes and cover letters I send out often seem to me as if they are just disappearing into outer space. Although I get occasional gems such as this - an e-mail I just received as I am typing:

Thank you for your interest in Job ID: xxx,

Upon thorough review of your qualifications and experience, we will not be considering you further for this position.

Please continue to view available openings by visiting our website– www.xxxxx.jobs. If you find a position of interest for which you believe you are qualified, we encourage you to sign in as a returning applicant and complete a new application.

Again, thank you for your interest and the time you took to participate in the application process. We wish you success in your career exploration.

I just checked my records. I applied for that job on June 4th. C'est la vie.

It is sometimes a struggle to make each day a productive one, but I do my best. I start with Kashi "Go Lean" oatmeal (which I highly recommend), fruit and orange juice. Sometimes I have a whole wheat roll with it. I try not to eat too early so I won't be starved before dinner time. I check and answer e-mails, pay attention to the weather - especially if I'm going into DC (I also look for Metro alerts if I am riding the Red Line), and spend a bit of time keeping up with the news. In late morning, I usually make my way - lugging my laptop - to a Starbucks. I grab a big cup of coffee, and try to act as though I were in my office - a place to get things done. I scour a few different websites for new job postings and compose cover letters.

Sometimes I make phone calls concerning the little bit of business I am still doing in Gainesville or for Push Button Productions. Sometimes I call family members or friends just to check in. Either way, getting to a Starbucks usually involves a walk (to the Metro to go downtown, or to the nearest Starbucks a mile and a half up the road) or a bike ride. Besides coffee, for the past couple of weeks, I have had only orange juice, sparkling water and sugar free lemonade to drink. Dinner, lately, is usually a Lean Cuisine preservative-free meal.

I am hoping that efforts to keep my body healthy will keep my spirits up as well. As of this morning, I am seventeen pounds lighter than when I left Gainesville in early May, and I feel better and better each weekend when I go out for a serious bike ride.

It would certainly put me at ease if I were able to type here a nice entry about accepting a great job in DC. It may still happen. But, while I am frequently discouraged by the search, I remind myself that I will be better off, regardless of what happens. As I recently wrote to Kami in an e-mail:

I don't know what will become of my little venture into the nation's capitol. I'm glad I tried though. Whatever happens, I know I will be better off because of it. I've had lots of time alone to think. I see myself then - not so long ago - and what I had become. That's not me. Not any more. It's been interesting to see who has made efforts to stay in touch with me and who hasn't. In both cases, it hasn't always been the people I expected it to be. It makes me wish I had been better at telling some how much I appreciated them. It's never too late to start, right?

The New Clothing Enterprise continues...

New Wheels (Part 3)...

For those who have been asking for more pictures of the new wheels, here are a few that were in the original ad that made me go look at the thing.

Freedom...

It's amazing how good it feels to have a car, even in an area where you'd frequently rather not drive it. I have become so accustomed to having one for so many years that I didn't realize how stranded I would feel without it. Here's an interesting thing to think about; you know what is the most useful thing to have when you're looking for a car? A car. How else do you get around to shop for one?

I decided a trip to the Antietam National Battlefield was in order. I hadn't been there since 1991. Antietam was the bloodiest single day of the Civil War. By the end of September 17, 1862, somewhere around 23,000 men had been killed or wounded on both sides. Tactically, it was a stalemate, but the Confederate forces eventually withdrew to the other side of the Potomac to lick their wounds. Strategically, the result was a Union victory since Lee had been forced to give up a planned invasion of northern territory. This was enough to give Lincoln confidence to issue the Emancipation Proclamation.

Since I was celebrating my new-found freedom, I tossed my bike into the back of the new Volvo and hit the road.

It is ironic that the scene of some of the most vicious fighting of the Civil War occurred in areas of distinct natural beauty. Sharpsburg, Maryland is a small farm community with rugged, rolling hills. Antietam Creek passes near the edge of the town before it empties into the Potomac about three miles south.

There was no threat of rain, but the day was hazy. The map provided by the National Park Service (Link HERE) shows a nice driving tour. I did it on bike - about eight miles. A bike is a great way to do a Civil War battlefield...


The National Park Service has a slide show of the famous Alexander Gardner photographs taken shortly after the battle (Link HERE). The photograph of Confederate dead along the Hagerstown Pike is probably one of the most famous Civil War images.

I didn't take too many pictures, but I did stop to get a shot of my trusty bike and backpack (I have used it literally every day) framed by cannons. It was just a silly idea - my way of paying tribute to the two items that have served me so well on this journey...


When I went to gather my backpack and mount up, I noticed something...


Look closely...


It's a bird's nest in the barrel of the cannon, complete with eggs. What was once the scene of unspeakable violence now made for a peaceful afternoon. What was once an instrument of death had become a vessel of life.

It seemed like the perfect way to end the day.

New Wheels (Part 2)...

I've driven the car about 150 miles in the last two days without even so much as an exhaust belch (from the car, not from me, of course). More on that soon...

New Wheels...

Keep your fingers crossed, because all I've done is put down a deposit, but, by some time tomorrow afternoon, I hope to be driving this:


Haha! A family car. Just what I need.

Actually, I chose it because (in theory) it's reliable, safe, and it has room for bikes, camping gear and other things I occasionally like to haul around.

Yesterday makes five weeks since my good old SUV was totalled. I have to admit, every time I walk or ride my bike out of the little cul de sac where I am living, I look to my right, up the hill on the main road to the spot where I last saw my SUV. Even now, I am still somewhat surprised, and a little saddened, when I see it isn't there.

I had enough food at home for breakfast tomorrow, but, just for kicks, while riding my bike the four miles back from the credit union that has helped me with a few financial things regarding the purchase, I stopped at the grocery store and picked up a load of stuff so big there wasn't a square inch unoccupied inside my backpack. It seemed like an appropriate way to start really appreciating having a car again!

In six weeks or so, I will either have found a job that will keep me here, or I'll be on my way back to Florida. Either way, I hope the Volvo serves me well.

Tour de France...

Each year, in July, I am reminded that there is no better multi-stage sporting event than the Tour de France. You could watch it just for the scenery, which is always absolutely stunning. You could watch it for the anguish of the crashes, the adrenaline rush of the sprints on the flat stages, or the agony of the climbs in the mountains.

Then there are the subtleties and intricacies of the strategy and tactics, and the races within the race: The Yellow Jersey (GC or General Classification - the overall race leader), the Green Jersey (Best Sprinter), the Polka Dot Jersey (King of the Mountains - the race's best climber), and the White Jersey (Best Young Rider - the highest-ranked rider aged 25 or younger). [For a simple explanation of some of this stuff, click HERE.]

And, of course, there is the human drama - the tension between teams, or sometimes within teams, and the intense suffering that each individual must bear in his own way. If you've tried to ride any distance at all on a bike, you realize what great athletes these guys are. This year's Tour de France will cover nearly 2200 miles in 21 stages. Today alone, they will ride 140 miles in the Pyrennes Mountains of Spain and the Principality of Andora.

There is one other aspect of the Tour that makes it great for me - the commentators. I like to watch the live coverage in the morning (which I record on DVR to watch later) rather than the "Americanized" prime time coverage on Versus because there is nothing better than Phil Liggett and Paul Sherwen. Between them, they have nearly 60 years of experience in professional cycling with Liggett having done TV commentary on 33 Tours de France.

Yesterday was the perfect example of all of these things. David Millar, a Scottish rider on the American team Garmin-Slipstream, got into a long breakaway (an individual or small group of riders that breaks away from the main field - the "peloton" - and then tries desperately to cling to whatever advantage they may have obtained). Millar was part of a group of four riders that managed to gain a 3 or 4 minute advantage on the field, but, as often happens, three riders fell back into the peloton. Millar, courageously, rode nearly 25 kilometers in the lead, alone, in the rain, on a stage that ended with an uphill climb.

[Photo courtesy of VeloNews]

Phil Liggett described Millar's ride as only he can:

"The rain is dancing on the pavement, and Millar is dancing on his pedals… "

"David Millar is the loneliest man in all of Europe right now."

"Millar’s legs are going to burn like a bonfire when he turns on to the slopes (of the final climb)."

Millar's legs did burn like a bonfire at the end. He was caught with less than a kilometer to go before the finish. But the images of the day, Millar's effort, and Liggett's commentary all combined to make the day one of the many memorable ones of the Tour de France.

More Fragments...

ARTIFICIAL WHAT???

Sitting next to two women in their sixties when a news story comes on TV that researchers, using stem cells, have made artificial sperm. One of the women is absolutely puzzled, and a bit incredulous. "What?," she says, looking around. "There's no shortage..."

SINCE WHEN??

I am at the Brickskeller (I know, shocking), enjoying a Belgian ale called Grimbergen Double, and notice that the label says "Anno 1128." I'm no genius, but I know that means they've been brewing this stuff since 1128. No wonder it's so good. They've had a few years to get it right.

I CAN'T HEAR YOU. THE MUSIC'S TOO LOUD

Strangely, one of the things I miss about my SUV is not being able to drive around listening to music at any volume I choose. In my hovel, I control the decibel levels in the interest of maintaining good relations with my fellow inmates. Even cranking Limp Bizkit in headphones isn't quite the same as riding around on a sunny Sunday afternoon with the windows down.

When I first discovered that my SUV had been smashed, it was the middle of a day on a Wednesday. My intention was to go grocery shopping, but, ironically, I carried in my hand a CD that I had just burned - music that I hadn't listened to for a while, and wanted to hear good and loud in my SUV while I drove to the grocery store. I hadn't realized, over the years, what a release it was for me to listen to good loud rock. It really does clear my head. No wonder my head is so full...

Hopefully, I'll have a new vehicle soon.

I'll be damned. It works...

This is a test. Allegedly, I can now update my blog from my cell phone. I'll believe it when I see it...

Travel Companion...

My trusted travel companion on a beautiful day near the Tidal Basin at the foot of the steps of the Jefferson Memorial...

4th of July

On the 4th of July, I went into DC. Where else would you go? I joined a million and a half of my closest friends to celebrate the nation's birthday. With a little forethought, and willingness to walk great distances, I got around with no trouble at all. I ended up standing right under the Washington Monument. Looking west, this was the view of the Lincoln Memorial - with wall to wall people all the way down that end of the Mall. The group of buildings in the right distance is an area called Rosslyn - across the Potomac in Virgina.





I waited until near dark to look east and take a picture of the Mall all the way to the Capitol - again, with wall to wall people as far as you can see.



This is what DC fireworks look like when you're basically right underneath them!

Constitutional Gardens

Last weekend, I rode the Capitol Crescent Trail, from Silver Spring to Georgetown. Then I rode up M Street, and right on Twenty-third, which brings you to area of the Lincoln Memorial from the north side. It made for a pleasant surprise. I had never before been in Constitutional Gardens, but it's safe to say I'll go back.

Changing Luck...

Yesterday, I was riding my bike to the Metro station so I could head into DC and explore and get some exercise. I always stay on the far right on the sidewalk - toward the top of the hill there is a row of trees that provides some shade.

Under one gigantic tree, a bird sitting on the branches overhead decided to let loose as I passed. This was not your ordinary dropping. This little creature had evidently enjoyed a massive 4th of July bird barbecue. The colossal turd hit the sidewalk a foot to my right with a very audible splat. I laughed. In June, that would have landed right on top of me. Now that it's July, maybe my luck is changing...

Life Goes On...

Walking to a Starbucks (where else?) the other day, I saw this, and thought it was appropriate somehow. A handful of birds resting in a dead tree. I snapped the photo with my pocket digital camera. It is now the wallpaper graphic on my cell phone. I call it Life Goes On...

Did That Really Happen?

Amazingly, it is July 3rd and I am still here, still unemployed, still hopeful (at least sometimes). If you had written a plan that would make June as unproductive as possible, I think I followed it, although certainly not purposely. A storm disrupted the cable and internet service at the house for the better part of a week. My phone was only semi-functional for nearly two weeks before I finally received the new one I ordered online (a glitch on the Virgin Mobile website delayed delivery). On June 9th, my SUV bit the dust while I was ten miles away minding my own business. And, of course, on June 22nd, the tragic crash on the Metro further limited my ability to go anywhere. Today marks the first time that the Red Line is back up to speed.

Any of those things, taken alone, would have been a mere inconvenience, but the collective toll on my psyche was fairly substantial. It made it very difficult to establish a useful routine. It was also difficult to maintain my energy and focus.

Also, while I expected this, I have sometimes felt socially isolated. Other than phone and online chats, I've had a total of five conversations that lasted more than fifteen minutes. One was with a very nice attorney who sat next to me at Circa, a cafe at Dupont Circle. The second was with a woman named Joyse (yes, with an "s") who occupied the adjacent stool at the Brickskeller (she had been intending to leave right before I sat down, but ended up staying for two more hours, saying she hadn't expected me to be "so fascinating" - I took that as a compliment.) The third was with Heather, the bartender at the redundantly named Bistro Bistro who slides me free glasses of wine so I will stay and keep her company when the bar is slow. There was a nice visit with Kami who brought me a gigantic spiral cut ham and rolls left over from an event she worked. Lastly, I had an interesting discussion with a black guy named Barron, in which I argued that social divisions in the DC area are more a result of classism than racism (he agreed, eventually). He had grown up in the "bad part" of DC, and then moved up into the Maryland suburbs. He was very bright and likeable.

I rarely see my housemates, and, while I initially thought there might be opportunities to socialize, in the end it's probably a good thing that they are never around. Three people live on the top floor. I have seen one of them twice, for a grand total of ninety seconds. I have seen the other one twice, for about four minutes. I see the third one periodically, mostly when she comes downstairs to reset the wireless router. I can tell when she is home though. She is Asian, and, when she cooks the whole house smells fabulous. The one who lives in the room next to mine is busy with a physical therapy practicum, and, other than that, mostly keeps to herself. This is probably for the best. She is pleasant enough, and we get along fine, but, honestly, we have about as much in common as Elie Wiesel and Heinrich Himmler.

Suddenly, it is July, and all I can do is look back at June and say, “Did that really happen?”

So, one might ask, what is the good news?

Well, it is July 3rd, and I'm still here! Not to be morbid, but I could have been in my car when the tow truck plowed into it, or, worse, on the Red Line train that crashed. I continue to receive tremendous support and encouragement from family and friends. For those of you who have suffered through my caffeine-fueled telephone rants, I truly appreciate it! I have a new phone that appears to be working well. Earlier this week, Comcast contractors buried new cable in the neighborhood that I assume will ensure good internet service. I finally got the insurance check for my SUV (may it rest in peace), and I will probably go car shopping in about a week. Every time I look there are jobs out there, good jobs. All I need is a a touch of good fortune. It's about time for that.

And, today, for the first time, I ran into somebody I know! While walking to the Starbucks just over a mile north of my house, I heard a voice yell (sounding surprised to see me there), "Brian, how are you doing?" It was Murat (yes, that is the correct spelling), someone I know from the Stained Glass Pub - the place right next to the Glenmont Metro station, and, therefore, a logical stopping point for me on certain occasions when I am returning from DC. Murat had just gotten gas, and, as it turned out, coffee from Starbucks, and hollered at me from the driver's seat of his Jeep. We chatted for a few minutes, and made plans to catch up this weekend at the Pub.

Wish me luck. The New Clothing Enterprise continues...

Afterthought: I almost forgot, the Tour de France starts tomorrow. I LOVE the Tour de France. Go Lance!