Fest in the City

Today was the Adams Morgan Day Festival. I’m not sure if I enjoyed the festival or my walks to and from the metro more. There was a taste of fall in the air. The sky was a bright blue after yesterday’s storm.  It was still quite warm, but the slight crispness in the breeze brought with it a promise of weather to come. It’s days like this that I love to be in DC. Summers can be cloyingly hot in the city, so days like this invigorate us.  There were people out everywhere – walking, biking, sitting on stoops and watching the world go by.

The festival itself was entertaining. A mix of music, ethnic food and art. And people. Lots of people of all ages, ethnicities and walks of life. My friend had made the mistake of trying to drive and was late trying to find parking. So I mingled. I bumped into a guy I had a few dates with a few years ago. A raffle ticket vendor kissed my hand, undeterred by my gentle refusal to buy a ticket. I watched Afro-Brazilian dancers perform on a school basketball court. But my favorite was a man singing karaoke, making up the lyrics as he went. I think Elton John would have a few choice words to say about this guy’s rendition of Tiny Dancer. 

I didn’t end up buying or eating anything. But I walked a lot, caught up with friends, and relished the day. I came home more than satisfied.

September the First

This was supposed to be posted on September 1^st to kick off my renewed commitment to writing…which went something like “Sure, I slacked off this summer, but starting September 1^st, I’m going to write every day, no matter what.” Famous last words. “No matter what” was a slight exaggeration. Life happens. Family comes in town from India. Other family members have housewarming parties in New Jersey that you need to attend. Road trips ensue. Crazy masses of relatives descend upon you and fail recognize you might need a moment’s peace. Then, as the day comes to a close and you find a place of more or less stillness, the Wi-Fi you had been relying on to actually work, fails to do so from the corner of the basement you’ve eked out for yourself. You want to jump up and down. You want to pull your hair out. Your mind ignores the fact that this is truly a First World problem. Its anal, obsessive, perfectionist mode has been switched on and it rams itself against your skull, demanding an answer. Luckily, your heart’s in the right place. And though your head would argue, your heart knows that pestering your aunt -- who has been up to her neck in a sea of berserk extended family, of which you are one -- to reset the router when she has to get up in five hours to prepare the house for another onslaught would be a little…unkind. This is my lesson on this first(ish) day of the month. So I will rest, reassuring my mind that even as I save this (offline) at 12:30am on September 2, it is still September 1^st in much of this vast nation of ours.