Dispatches from DC #10

19 May 2011

Hello there... Rodger French here.

Life in the "Capital of The Free World" (by it's own admission) has settled in to a not disagreeable routine. Since meaningful employment remains, shall we say, elusive, I spend my time shopping, cooking, and generally being A.J.'s wingman. And I also have the opportunity to put in the practice/study time it takes to become a better musician. This is an unexpected and most salutary gift.

In addition to working diligently on my virtually non-existent jazz piano chops, I'm playing regularly with my pal Sol Stein, a terrific concertina player. I have also fallen in with The Washington Balalaika Society Orchestra (WBSO), an avocational ensemble that performs all manner of Russian music. (www.balalaika.org) The Artistic Director is quite the formidable musician, having studied at the Rimsky-Korsakov Conservatory in St. Petersburg.

In addition to conducting, she also arranges compositions for the group and, since she is married to an accomplished bayan player (the bayan being the Russian cousin of the accordion), the parts I am called upon to play are often very demanding. This is a good thing; at this point in my musical life, a hearty shot of intense focus and discipline is just what I need.

I have also agreed with Ruuskie Musikanti, a small-group offshoot of the WBSO, to sub for their accordionist when he is unavailable, which means yet more music to learn, albeit in a much more relaxed fashion. All the folks in the group are very nice and the performances enjoyable.

We performed yesterday for "Happenings at the Harman," a series of lunchtime programs sponsored by the Shakespeare Theatre Company. I felt a bit under-rehearsed on a couple of selections, but the audience was very nice and the gig went well. And then, as we finished and were preparing to pack up, a most extraordinary thing happened.

[Sidebar: Some accordion players play loudly and without much taste. Some succumb to the temptation to play "con formaggio molto," a little of which goes a long way. (I myself am not immune to the charms of the cheesy.) But having played the accordion since the age of six, I am painfully aware that the generally low regard in which the instrument has long been held in this country - an unreasonable prejudice that seems, thankfully, to be rapidly dissipating - is due in some part to annoyingly oblivious accordion players.]

[Quote: "There are more bad musicians than there is bad music." Issac Stern]

Anyway... after the gig, I was approached by an older gentleman speaking a language literally foreign to me - Russian, perhaps. Notwithstanding my ignorance, he was most insistent on making his point and once I ceased trying to "understand" what he was saying and started really paying attention and listening to his words as music, I understood clearly. (I feel a bit sheepish relaying this, but it was such a profound experience...)

Obviously moved, he conveyed to me his appreciation for my playing the accordion with feeling. And then he reached out and put his hand on my heart. It was a humbling moment. It was the highest accolade any musician could ever hope to receive.

It was what we live for.

[Quote: "When you perform, remember that some of your audience may be hearing this music for the first time, and some for the last." Robert Shaw]

Onward.

Rodger

Dispatches from DC #09

08 March 2011

Hello there... Rodger French here.

Washington, DC (well... Arlington, VA) is a fine place to live for a couple of years. In addition to having groceries, restaurants, and all manner of other services within easy walking distance, we even get Al Jazeera English on the TV, so it's possible to obtain actual comprehensive international news 24/7. Knowing what's going on outside the good old U.S. of A. seems increasingly important these days.

Anne and I are still quite keen to go forward to our next assignment in September 2012; with any luck, we'll decamp before the 06 November election and subsequent (and eagerly anticipated) Apocalypse predicted for 21 December. (Not to cast a pall on anyone's End Times festivities, but isn't it possible that the Mayan calendar ended just to start all over again? Or maybe they ran out of special calendar stones to carve it on? I'm just askin'.)

In any case, we continue to make the most of our stay here, which often entails hopping aboard the socialistic Metro system and taking in one of the many wonderful socialistic (and consequently) free museums. Last Saturday, we visited the Smithsonian American Art Museum and the National Portrait Gallery, which are contiguous and located not far from what's left of Chinatown. Naturally, we meandered through the "Hall of Presidents," a suitably impressive display. I especially admired the painting of President Andrew Jackson, which may be the most flattering portrait of a war criminal ever commissioned.

Then came something totally unexpected.

As many of you know, I am not a religious person, having long ago escaped the clutches of Baptist fundamentalism, and generally regard organized religions as cults that have simply gotten out of hand. But what the heck; "to each their own," "do to others what you would have them do to you," and "laissez la fin des temps rouler." Heathen though I may be, I do nonetheless fervently appreciate that religion has been most beneficent to our tragically failing species when it comes to music and the arts.

I was reminded of this when, whilst perusing the "Folk Art" exhibition, I happened upon "The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations' Millennium General Assembly" by James Hampton. For a comprehensive description and image, here's the link. You should check it out:

http://americanart.si.edu/collections/search/artwork/?id=9897

Mr. Hampton, a janitor and the self-titled "Director, Special Projects for the State of Eternity," created, in a rented garage, religious art of the highest order and I am earnestly grateful to have come across it. For me, it's a visual equivalent of the music of Marion Williams, the great Gospel singer; majestic and fearless, abundant with faith and power. If Jesus ever does need an earthly place to perch, he couldn't do better than Mr. Hampton's throne.

Duly moved, we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering about the 'hood, peeking into shoppes, and enjoying a Chinese lunch in a funky little place where most of the diners were apparently Chinese. It was a nice trip into the nation's capital (Official motto: "Taxation Without Representation") and we'll be visiting again soon. I urge you to do so as well, especially if you're an American taxpayer. After all, you deserve your socialist money's worth.

Onward.

Rodger

Dispatches from DC #08

14 February 2011

Hello there... Rodger French here.

In case you are curious as to why you haven't received a posting recently, there is a trés simple explanation: I've had nothing - bupkis, zilch, nada, - of any real interest to report. I have, however, just returned from two weeks on the road on a package tour, of sorts; that is, a confluence of three major events, each of which provided reasonable justification for braving America's decaying Interstate system and the rapacious VA State Police. In aggregate, these affairs occasioned a perfect storm for even the most experienced road warrior.

Event #1 - The Groundhog Day Jugglers Festival

The 33rd Annual, to be specific; and since I can legitimately take credit for founding the Atlanta Jugglers Association and initiating this festival (with many collaborators, of course), I like to attend whenever I'm in country. This year, 168 registered jugglers and hundreds more onlookers gathered in the auditorium of the Yaarab Shrine Temple in the ATL for a weekend of big fun. It's a wonderful event that really hasn't changed much over the years, and that includes my role as MC for the competition.

I also served as bandleader for the Late Night Cabaret, which meant, glamour aside, being called upon to do some massive schlepping of the sound system and other musical paraphernalia/accoutrement. Which was OK; that's just part of the deal. All in all, it was great to play around, reconnect with olde chums, and meet some of the (as Ed Sullivan would say) "youngsters" who already have mad skillz. (http://www.atlantajugglers.org)

Event #2 - One Night Only: Lenny & LaBanana & Friends

The two rehearsals we managed to shoehorn into a busy week were not in vain: It was a classic concert. Everyone sounded great, and, as musical director, I'm please to report that The DeLuxe Vaudeville Orchestra unequivocally brought its "A" game. The folks at the Lawrenceville Road United Methodist Church (http://www.lrumc.com) were most hospitable and the crowd was large and enthusiastic. To those of you who attended this memorable event, my sincerest thanks.

The ostensible reason for all this show bidness brouhaha/bonhomie was, as you may have heard, the departure of LaBanana, my dear friend and long-time Vaudeville partner, for sunnier climes. Segue to...

Event #3 - LaBanana Moves to Florida

A.J. and I have moved four times in the last five years, but that only partially prepared me for a relocation that may immodestly be described as "the end of an era." LaBanana has been a fixture in Atlanta for decades and has accumulated innumerable friends, associates, and colleagues. She has also managed to obtain and hold onto an extraordinary amount of "stuff." Staying at her house during the pack-out was like living inside an exploding clown closet. Amazing.

But with the able assistance of many friends, especially Captain Black (from Cat Island in the Bahamas; home, incidentally, of the "Rake & Scrape Festival"), and four very nice Mexican movers, she managed to fill up two (2) large trucks and send them on their way. I am pleased to report that LaBanana made it safely to Orlando and is reunited with her parents and all her things. Happy landings, indeed.

I, on the other hand, headed north to check in on my place near Hot Springs, NC (which reminds me a bit of Cicely, AK in "Northern Exposure") and work out some home improvement details with my local contractor friends. Then, back to Arlington, to contemplate life, music, and etc. until our next move in 2012.

(Sigh.) And I've got way too much stuff.

Onward.

Rodger

Dispatches from DC #07

24 December 2010

Hello there... Rodger French here.

This is our first Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/Winter Solstice/Cold & Flu Season in the U-S-A since 2005 and so far, so good. Anne and I are planning on a modest celebration this year; seeing a few friends, taking in a flick, and assiduously avoiding things what generate seasonal stress: Shopping malls, airports, interstate highways, and FOX News. "War on Christmas," my tuchus.

It's pretty quiet here in northern VA, not least because the Congressional clown car has left town. There was that lunar eclipse on the Solstice, but since A.J. and I were fortunate enough to catch one of these events from our front stoop in Ghana, we took a pass on getting up at some ungodly hour in the butt-freezing cold. But our recent trip to New York City was a great success, consisting as it did of visiting dear friends as well as exhaustive walking interspersed with outstanding dining experiences. (Culinary highlights included Chinese and delicatessen in Midtown and Cuban in Union City, NJ.)

If you have never visited NYC at the height of the Holidaze, you really should. The place is gay (and festive), grand, and trés pittoresque, especially the outdoor markets. Unless, of course, you have an aversion to throngs of excited, skylarking touristes... standing in endless lines... for the opportunity of renting ice skates and falling on their derriéres. But then, we are all free to celebrate the season as we wish, especially when it comes to fulfilling the fundamental and compelling human need to transact commerce.

In Times Square, that motivation has been translated into a display that is corporately, spectacularly, even transcendently bonkers. Standing at the junction of Broadway and Seventh Avenue is like being sucked into a garish video game, the concept of which is to cram as much "visual noise" as possible into an unrealistically small space while drinking an LSD/meth smoothie. It's bizarrely entertaining, to be sure; but, having first discovered New York City in the early1970s, I kinda miss the low-tech seediness of yore.

Rather than wallow in tacky nostalgia, however, I'll just take this opportunity to wish each and every one of my faithful and supportive readers (and you both know who you are) the most excellent of seasons, whichever holiday miracle, myth, sidereal event, or sports competition you choose to observe in whatever manner, sacred or secular, you may deem appropriate. For my part, I say celebrate them all. It couldn't hurt.

And may the New Year bring you, if not what you want, at least what you need.

Onward.

Rodger

Dispatches from DC #06

08 December 2010

Hello there... Rodger French here.

I'm not much for pilgrimages, although I do appreciate the human need for ritual and value the paying of respect to those actually worthy of it. So, I am in New York City on the 30th anniversary of the murder of John Lennon and this very afternoon made the journey uptown and on foot to "Strawberry Fields," 2.5 acres of landscaping located at 72nd Street and Central Park West. When I arrived the place was already packed with fans, tourists, cops, and TV satellite trucks. I didn't stay long; it was wicked crowded, butt-freezing cold, and I had to pee. Desperately. In other words, a typical winter day in NYC.

Loathe I am to revisit previous postings; but after careful consideration, I have concluded that what I wrote for the 25th anniversary is still, from my personal point of view, right on the mark. So, for what it's worth, here it is, with minor revisions. And great respect.

Originally Posted: December 8, 2005

"John Lennon is an important figure to me. He was a great musician, something I strive to be. He was also fearless about living his own life, for better and worse, and usually in the public eye. Finally, he was clever and a smart-ass. I liked that.

Zillions of people have written exhaustively about Lennon, The Beatles, and the ways in which they changed the landscape of popular music. But music is a visceral thing, especially for a teenager, and I have my own distinct memories of hearing The Beatles early on. The first occasion was on a broadcast of 'The Jack Paar Show.' That film clip constituted, as I recall, their initial appearance on American TV, and they sang 'From Me to You' (still one of my faves). And then... 'She Loves You' hit the airwaves (WAKY-AM in Louisville, KY), reached right out through the radio and took my breath away. Still does.

But it was with the release of 'Rubber Soul' that I really started to pay close attention to Lennon's writing, particularly 'In My Life.' I was very impressed that a Rock & Roll star in his mid-20s would write such a serious, reflective song. It was about this time that I started to regard John Lennon as something of a surrogate older brother (I'm the eldest of three boys), a person I could look to for a certain amount of guidance in how - and how not - to approach life.

So I came of age to, among many interesting things, Lennon's music. It accompanied me through high school, college, the Navy, marriage, divorce, and experimentations with altered states of awareness. And while I never consciously emulated John's life, I did take great comfort in knowing he was out there - somewhere - and I always wished him the best. Especially when he came out in opposition to the war in Vietnam, was hounded by the FBI, and ended up on Nixon's 'Enemies List,' a badge of honor in my estimation. When he finally got his Green Card and was able to set up permanent legal residence in New York City, I was glad for him and Yoko.

Then he went away for five years and, well, that was cool because I was pretty sure he needed a break. But in the autumn of 1980, I heard 'Starting Over' on my car radio and realized that John Lennon was back... and he sounded damned good. 'Double Fantasy' was a great comeback album and I was happy that Lennon's music was going to be part of my life's soundtrack once again. Besides, I figured we needed all the help we could get, what with the election of Ronald Reagan and the rise of the Talibangelicals.

And then John Lennon was gone.

Not Eddie Cochran gone, not Jimi Hendrix gone, not even Elvis Presley gone. Accidents, drug overdoses, bad lifestyles... in the world of Rock & Roll, those kinds of deaths are at least comprehensible. But John Lennon was stalked and gunned down in cold blood, in front of his own home, by some creep to whom he had given an autograph that very day. At the age of 40, one of the best and most important musicians of my time was taken away for no goddamned good reason. I will never get entirely over it - and will bloody likely never forgive his assassin.

Never... because he ended the life of someone who still had great music to make. Never... because he silenced a voice for peace in a world of pain. Never... because he took John Lennon away - from his family, his future, and his chance to grow old. And, selfish though it may be, I was looking forward to that, because Lennon would have been a great old man: someone worth watching, listening to, and learning from. His death is a profound loss.

I miss John Lennon. But, life goes on and I'm sure he wouldn't want us to wallow about in maudlin nostalgia, thank you very much. Besides, we still have the music. So here is a personal and eminently transitory playlist to celebrate the life of an extraordinarily creative and remarkable guy. My Top 10 for today, December 8... for all of us living on borrowed time:"

In My Life

Nowhere Man

Tomorrow Never Knows

Strawberry Fields Forever

I Am the Walrus

Across the Universe

Instant Karma

Working Class Hero

#9 Dream

Watching the Wheels

[Sidebar - I will always be grateful to Howard Cosell for the way he broke the news of John Lennon's assassination to me and millions of other football fans on Monday night, December 8, 1980. The most sensitive and graceful remarks ever delivered by a sports commentator. Ever.]

Onward.

Rodger

Dispatches from DC #05

14 November 2010

Hello there... Rodger French here.

One of the things I miss most about Pretoria is the weather, which, as previously noted, is darn near perfect all the time. The same cannot be said, unfortunately, for the Washington, DC area. Since the entire enterprise was built on a swamp, so the summer climate here ranges from simply awful to God-awful. Winters are more of a crapshoot. Last year saw record snowfalls, but a winter without a single snowflake is just a likely.

To be fair, however, there are brief passages in the spring and autumn when the Washington skies are blue, the winds moderate, and the temperature ideal. Such has been the case for the past few days, and there is simply no excuse for not taking a nice, long walk to check out the fall foliage and a few of the ubiquitous memorials.

Emerging from the Metro Smithsonian Station, A.J. and I decided to stroll around the Tidal Basin, a man-made reservoir lined with Japanese cherry trees and featuring the Thomas Jefferson Memorial (dedicated in 1943), a neoclassical construction and one of my personal favourites. Simple and elegant in design, Jefferson's words are carved large in the walls, words that seem temporarily out of favour, words like "enlightened," "progress," and "justice." It is a beautiful place.

Continuing around the water, we came upon the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial (1997), which was new to both of us. Constructed of blocks of red granite and featuring a series of open-air "rooms" and much moving water, the atmosphere seems more contemplative than other such places (except, I think, for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial (1982) - "The Wall" - which is much more personal). On this day, the contrast between the stone and the color of autumn leaves enhanced the quietude of the experience. If you should come here, go to this place.

There is always construction in the National Mall area and we walked passed the expansive site of the Martin Luther King, Jr. National Memorial, due to open in 2011. From there, we made our way to the National World War II Memorial (2004), located on the Mall's central axis running from the Abraham Lincoln Memorial (1922) to the west to the George Washington Monument (1884) to the east. Comprised of a huge plaza and fountain surrounded by stone pillars, this is memorial architecture most conventional. Which is fine, of course: Big war, big memorial.

So that was our day. Unfortunately, we missed out on the Korean War Veterans Memorial (1995), which, I have been told, is particularly striking at night. No worries, as we will no doubt be making more of these trips between now and two autumns hence in 2012. And for all the snarky things I have to say about America's capital (which happen to be true, by the way), there is much here of great worth and much of it is absolutely free. If you have never been, you should come; after all, you paid for it.

But try to avoid the summer.

Onward.

Rodger

Dispatches from DC #04

07 November 2010

Hello there... Rodger French here.

It's been an interesting time here in the self-proclaimed "Capital of the Free World." As you may have heard, America had an election last week and, once again, voters (or at least the ones who bothered to get off their asses) gave the Republican Party a clear mandate, not to be confused with the clear mandate they gave the Democratic Party two years ago, never mind the (classic) Supreme Court one-vote mandate of 2000. Mandates seem to occur like periodic herpes outbreaks in this great land of ours.

But, as a proud, card-carrying Liberal, I thought it best to make a positive contribution to the process; so, in addition to voting, I spent 15 hours with some fellow citizens working the polls at my local precinct. It was a long day, to be sure, but I actually enjoyed assisting folks in the exercise of their franchise and only wish more people had showed up. The percentage of eligible, possibly informed American voters who actually turn out is downright pathetic.

As is the tsunami of post-election analysis now engulfing us at every turn. CW (Convention Wisdom) trumps all in medialand, with results construed, often at the expense of, you know, reality, to fit narratives carefully constructed by millionaire pundits and radio/TV personalities at the behest of their corporate overlords. So, in the interest of brevity, please permit me to offer my own pithy political prognostication for the next two years:

Republicans - Insane

Democrats - Spineless

Outlook - Totally F@#ked

In other news, we are still awaiting the release of our HHE (Household Effects) shipment from South Africa that is currently being held hostage in Baltimore. Ah, but won't that be a rapturous day. Anne continues to successfully settle into the realities of working at the U.S. State Department in the actual U.S., and I've begun taking my spiffy new bike out and about, just in time for the annual winter BFC (Butt Freezing Cold) cycling season. So, life goes on, mandates and all.

[Bonus Signage from "The Rally to Restore Sanity and or Fear" -

"The guy behind me can't see"

"Free Lohan"

"Don't Tread on Snakes"

"What America needs... oh look, a puppy"]

Onward.

Rodger

Dispatches from DC #03

31 October 2010

Hello there... Rodger French here.

And Happy Halloween to you all. Anne and I plan to celebrate this year by engaging in some unbridled hedonism, to wit, breaking out the candy corn, tuning in game 4 of the World Series, and enthusiastically rooting for the San Francisco Giants. Not that the Rangers aren't a fun team to watch, but pull for a team - any team - from Texas? I don't think so. Anyway, we need a little quality couch time after yesterday.

We attended the "Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear" on the National Mall, and it was ginormous. The National Park Service, which typically lowballs crowd numbers, put attendance at 200,000+, meaning that probably 250,000+ people showed up. The Metro system was completely swamped; it took us two hours to make a trip that normally takes twenty minutes. And, like the vast majority of participants, we got nowhere near the stage.

But the crowd, mostly young and white, was very civilized, and apart from some misguided youths climbing trees and even buildings (so I hear) and clambering on top of the portable toilets (which is very disconcerting if you're trying to pee) in order to get a better view, the proceedings proceeded quite sanely. Which was, of course, the point.

For those of us who missed out on the official program, entertainment value was provided by the signage people brought with them. Ever the diligent correspondent, I scribbled down a few possibly interesting examples and would like to pass them on to you, complete with helpful contextual headings.

Spiritual: "God Hates Figs - Mark 11: 12-14"

Sensual: "Watching Christine O'Donnell makes me want to touch myself."

Reasonable: "We may disagree, but I will not stomp on your head."

Economical: "Gay Mexican Nazis are raising my taxes."

Practical: "I don't mind paying taxes because roads don't pave themselves."

Cultural: "Stop Justin Bieber"

Gustatory: "Tea Party? Make mine an Iced Chai Latte."

Classical: "What's so funny about Peace, Love and Understanding?"

A.J. Favourite: "Librarians for Informed Opinion"

All in all, the Rally proved to be a fine way to spend a beautiful autumn afternoon. That evening, against long, crowded odds, a number of dear friends made their way to our flat, where we engaged in scintillating conversation whilst ingesting copious quantities of quality snackage - a fine housewarming party and perfect way to conclude the day.

[Civic Responsibility Reminder: Tuesday, November 2 is Election Day. In addition to voting, I will be a poll worker at my local precinct. If you are a registered voter and are ambivalent about participating, I encourage you to be a conscientious citizen and get your sorry ass to the polls. And no "they're all the same" bullshit excuses. Somebody's going to get elected and the lesser of two evils is still less evil. One more thing: If you don't vote, don't bitch. Thank you very much.]

Onward.

Rodger

Dispatches from DC #02

16 October 2010

Hello there... Rodger French here.

I'm pleased to report that matters have settled a bit, what with Anne starting her newish State Department gig at Foggy Bottom. Our place is taking shape and the nearby DC Metro (a classic example of socialist evil in action) is most convenient for commuting as well as touristing. We've already visited two major (and free) attractions in town.

Seeking refuge from the clutter of our apartment, we decided to take in the clutter at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. The place has been renovated since my last visit, but all the major goodies are still there. My personal favourites are a room dedicated to the Wright Brothers, an impossibly small Gemini space capsule, and a Douglas DC-3 (the greatest airplane ever) suspended from the ceiling. And with school back in session, the museum was not overrun by busloads of America's future rocket scientists.

Our other excursion took us to the Thomas Jefferson Building of the Library of Congress. This fabulous Italian Renaissance-style structure - festooned with paintings, mosaics, and statuary - houses roughly a bazillion books, including many of the extremely rare and priceless variety (Gutenberg Bibles, for example). The Main Reading Room, a magnificent place that is normally closed to the public, was open in honor of Columbus Day (also open on Presidents Day), so we were able to wander freely about. The joint looks like a movie set, which, I believe, it has actually been.

[Useful Information: Anyone can come in and use the facilities as long as they have a Reader Identification Card, which is available to persons at least 16 years of age who have a government issued picture ID. Very cool.]

Back on the home front, I've adjusted pretty quickly to living in an apartment for the first time and revel at being able to walk or take public transportation to many of the places I need to go. I am also relieved to not have to worry about matters involving yard vegetation. (My motto: "The well tended lawn is a sign of a misspent life.") Best of all, accordion practicing is happening again and I have rekindled some hope of continuing my peripatetic musical career.

In other news, you may or may not know that on Saturday, 30 October there will be a possibly significant rally on the National Mall beginning at Noon. Jon Stewart's "Rally to Restore Sanity" and Stephen Colbert's "March to Keep Fear Alive" will join forces for a "Rally to Restore Sanity and/or Fear." Of course. It should be a fun and memorable day and we will SO be there.

[Helpful Programming Note: For readers in other lands who may not be familiar with American TV, Stewart and Colbert are prominent comedians/satirists who regularly comment on political and social issues. Please don't confuse them with a fellow named Glenn Beck, who recently held his own rally in Washington, DC. Beck, while deplorably influential, is arguably sociopathic and/or insane, and decidedly not funny.]

Onward.

Rodger

Dispatches from DC #01

07 October 2010

Hello there... Rodger French here. Finally.

The farewells in Pretoria were extensive and heartfelt, the flight from Johannesburg six movies long and then some, and the weather in the southeastern United States hot and beastly. All in all, your basic transition from four years in Africa to a new life, for the next two years, in the nation's capital. After regrouping with our dear friends R & D in Alexandria, Virginia for a couple of daze, A.J. and I hit the road to visit other friends and aging relatives.

This epic journey took us to Kentucky, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, and back to VA. (By the way, if you're going to the Orlando area, do not miss the Kennedy Space Center. Wicked awesome and not a mouse in sight.) Upon our return, we checked into our new abode in the fabulous Hawthorn Building in Arlington, VA minutes before two households worth of goods from our past lives, sitting in storage these few years, were delivered and deposited all over the place. We've begun to make sense of things, although we have way too much stuff, with more yet to come from South Africa.

This is my first experience living in a condo building and it should prove most useful, especially if housing at our next posting happens to be of the apartment persuasion. It's time to reassess, edit, and pare down... a lot. Anybody need more stuff? Really, talk to me.

Our flat is walking distance from the DC Metro, so we can usually leave the mighty Honda Element (aka "The Toaster") in the garage and avoid the routinely horrible DC area traffic. I've also procured a very nice bike and expect to be mobile just as soon as I can figure out the new-fangled gear shifters.

What else... I am trying very hard to view the land of my birth with new eyes, like someone who is visiting for the first time. Not a convenient conceit, certainly, but one worth pursuing in the interest of good travel writing and the maintenance of reader interest. So please bear with me as I get my bearings and I promise to resist the temptation to deliver the snark regarding sundry idiots littering the political landscape in an election year. Seriously, I'll try.

One other thing. If you find yourself planning a trip to the capital of the free world (Official Motto: "Taxation Without Representation"), please let us know. Meanwhile, be well and stay tuned.

Onward.

Rodger