Community activism

So I went to another community meeting last night, this one our neighborhood association's. Mayor Fenty was supposed to be there but there was this other little event a few blocks away. Perhaps you've heard of it? Something called the State of the Union.
Because Fenty was supposed to be there it was standing room only, apparently not a common occurence. and I volunteered S and me to do some work for them.

So it was deputy mayor Dan Tangherlini. He's got a great dry wit, and apparently did a terrific job as DC transportation director and then Metro director. Basically the focus of the meeting was traffic issues. I asked the obligatory question about the vacant police building in our area. The city has some sort of plans. Actually I wanted to ask about maintenance, which is on the slow side. leaves piled up, snow is never shoveled, that kind of thing. I never really got to clarify since everyone else had the traffic issues.

It is true, cars barrel down Maryland Avenue. And pedestrians seem to be prey, despite DC's status as one of the most walkable cities in the country. Deputy Mayor Dan (who lives in the 'hood) promises to bring it up to Chief Lanier and see if we can get enforcement. I'll be curious to see that. I have yet to see a patrol issue tickets.

Everyone seemed happy that the issue was traffic, not crime. I have to say, the apartment building nearby worries me. I've seen this one guy hang out, even in brutal cold, and hop in random cars, go around the block and walk back. Seems suspicious, but not suspicious enough to report it. We don't know what to do.

Turistas are out of control

I used to think I knew tourists when I lived in South Florida. Nope, South Florida tourists have nuthin' on the Washington, D.C. ones. All they wanted in Florida was surf and sun, and other than the beach, you'd rarely run into them as a native.
Well, they clog the streets of D.C. and more importantly, the Metro. Several things drive me bonkers. Of course, the standing on the left thing that everyone dreads. The pole hugging. The hogging of the machines that operate the Smart Cards, leaving the regular fare card machines lonely. But what really drives me batty: the abrupt stop after entering or exiting the gate so that you trip over yourself not to ram into them. Ditto the abrupt stop at the bottom (or top) of the escalator.
Last night, as I raced to meet S at Union Station for a very important engagement, I groaned as I descended the Dupont Metro escalator at Q Street. Down below me, moving into the bowels of the tunnel was a clogged cluster. Someone must have been pushy, because it cleared up before I reached. As I passed the shorts-clad folks on the right, I heard a white bearded man say to a younger one, "Must be a local custom."