Monday, May 05, 2008

U STREET: Looking Back at a Scarred Strip's Evolving Sense of Time and Place


AS THE HEARSE carrying my great uncle's casket made its way east on U Street NW, I couldn't help but laugh when it bounced up and down on the rough pavement.

I was in middle school at the time and meant no disrespect to my late great uncle, a Foggy Bottom native who had died at the age of 97 during that hot, humid summer of 1991. Still, the scene was sort of amusing. My great aunt couldn't technically blame the rough road on one of "Marion Barry's potholes," at least in the stretch between 10th and 13th streets. Although U Street's Metrorail station had gone into service that May, D.C.'s famous but faded Black Broadway was still a mess of construction -- wooden planks held up uneven metal plates, which gave Uncle Bill a wild ride to his final resting place at the family burial plot in Prospect Hill Cemetery off North Capitol Street.

The memory of the bumpy funeral procession along down-and-out U Street faded quickly, but when I resettled in the District of Columbia after college, the recollections resurfaced. U Street, I was told, was “coming back.” Indeed, when I explored the area, there were signs of new life. But memories of the corridor’s scars from my great uncle’s funeral procession were quickly resurrected. As U Street evolved in the past quarter century, Uncle Bill’s wild final ride, to me, was one of the many scenes of life, death and rebirth on a street that very much symbolizes everything good and bad associated with the District's recent renaissance.

A month ago, I left the District — a place where my family has roots dating back to the 1860s — and during my transition to my new environs in Brooklyn, I've been thinking back to U Street. I never lived in the neighborhood but like many who have resided in D.C. during the past decade, I've seen the place change slowly and then much more quickly in recent years as the real estate boom went into overdrive in a time when credit was dirt cheap, developers had big plans and dreams of a better city were ever expansive.

My favorite personal refuge has always been The Saloon, tucked into the streetscape slightly below sidewalk level just a stone's throw from Ben's Chili Bowl, which is very much the lasting symbol of U Street. A one-time roommate had discovered the place in 2003 and introduced it to me. Our group of friends gravitated there. I met there with writers and brainstormed ideas for DCist; I would sometimes hold office hours there with my freelancers for The Washington Post's Express newspaper. The staff is friendly, the specialized beer list is superb. A few years ago, the place was never terribly crowded. You could nearly always find a seat and on the off chance there wasn't one, they'd somehow make room. The Saloon has a no-standing rule and an odd regulation where you can't order beer and food at the same time. The place's peculiarities weren't meant to exclude, just create a civil, stable and comfortable environment for those who considered the bar a friendly, hidden gem where the stresses of professional life were temporarily left outside, unless of course you want to vent while snacking on pistachios.


But during this decade, construction cranes followed the U Street crowds as they looked eastward toward lower-numbered streets for new, cool places. The Ellington condo building opened at the corner of 13th and U streets NW in 2004 to much fanfare and more or less cemented gentrification into the streetscape. It's not that the street wasn't changing before the Ellington's arrival — from the Civil War to the Jazz Age to the 1968 riots to the construction of the Green Line, U Street's always been a place in transition — it's just that the massive building symbolized something very different. It aimed to institute a totally new environment almost immediately, like a Loudoun County neo-Colonial townhouse development, except with Art Deco-accents, ornamental brick and a neon sign. The Ellington had a catchy and annoying marketing slogan ("B U on U!"), a tanning salon and franchise restaurant imports from Ward 3 and beyond (Alero and Sala Thai) ... places very different from The Saloon and the other businesses that had helped rebuild U Street's sense of space and place — elements necessary for condo developers to take interest, bloggers to roost and provide an environment to complain (and later apologize for statements) about how "barbaric" it is that "young, computer savvy white people" in nearby Mount Pleasant don't have any cool coffee shops to hang out in.

A DCist commenter once wrote the following, reacting to the annoying background music on the Ellington's website:
The theme music for that building will have to be the sound of crass gentrification crushing a neighborhood's soul. Or possibly Beyonce, who is about as far from The Duke as you can get.
Back in 2004, the owner of The Saloon, Commy Jahanbein, told The Washington Post:
We didn't expect all these changes around us. But I don't worry about it. I'm happy with what I've got here. We cannot pretend to be something we are not.
The gentrification debate has played out time and time again on U Street and has shifted to new frontiers up 14th Street, Georgia Avenue and elsewhere. But this post isn't about praising or decrying gentrification, but about one's conception of place and time.

In the past year or so, finding a seat at The Saloon hasn't been as easy as it once was. It's grown more popular, a testament to U Street's new commercial vitality. I hadn't stopped by The Saloon as much as I used to for a variety of reasons. My old roommate Artie, who had introduced me to the place and its lovely Köstritzer Schwarzbier Lager, had his going away party there March of last year. If you knew how much he loved the place, you know it was the best place for his send-off. Artie, a campaign operative who was featured in the documentary "Can Mr. Smith Get to Washington Anymore?," was headed to New York City for a new job working as Attorney General Andrew Cuomo's press secretary. About a month later, Artie took his own life. After that, The Saloon I knew, the U Street I knew, was suddenly and forever changed.

A bunch of our friends pooled our money to get Artie's name painted on one of Saloon's exterior bricks as part of the bar's charitable Bricks for Schools fundraising efforts. It would cement his legacy on the building and on U Street, a memorial to his life and times and to me at least, the U Street as we knew it from our limited experience in recent years (including that unfortunate time at the now-defunct and burned-out Kingpin where a mutual friend consumed a bottle of nasty beer that we were told had been on the shelf for at least five years or so, a feat that got us free drinks for the rest of the evening.

When I co-founded DCist back in 2004, one of the prime directives from the folks at Gothamist in New York was to keep DCist's outlook on the city it covers upbeat and positive. It's done that more or less and to great success. But in the District, there's much to be bitter about. There are many problems. Skeptics and cynics abound, the product of the often awkward relationship between the District and federal government and the residents caught in the middle. But in the midst of all that, there are also many good reasons to be hopeful about Washington's future, too.

During one of my final weekends as a D.C. resident, I walked into The Saloon. It was jam-packed and didn't appear that there were any seats available. But the staff made room, once again. It was the same friendly, warm, engaging place, I've known for years, a gem in the midst of constant change on U Street, where the lives of so many have intersected. Let's hope things stay that way.

Images from Flickr users dbking, sandcastlematt and facelessb

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Sunday, May 04, 2008

PARK SLOPE: Danger! Sextegenarian's Face Meets Feisty Dog Walked by Multi-Tasking Stroller Mom


DESPITE HAVING nearly 20 subway lines running through Brooklyn, taking the train between Point A and Point B in New York's most-populous borough isn't necessarily the quickest and certainly not the most direct option. Brooklyn's subway lines -- except the indigent and deficient-G -- feed into Manhattan, get intertwined in Downtown Brooklyn with few connections. So walking can be the best inter-neighborhood transit option as is riding the bus, which gives you a nice above-ground tour of the local environs.

Saturday afternoon, while riding the B71 bus along Union Street from Smith Street in Carroll Gardens to Grand Army Plaza at Prospect Park, I saw my first certifiable Park Slope "stroller incident." And was it ever a glorious sight to see! For those who don't know, Park Slope is home to well-off thirtysomething professionals, many with young children. Sharing the sidewalk can be a contentious neighborhood issue with stroller-pushing parents facing off against essentially everyone else for precious personal space on the public sidewalk and the right of way when crossing the street.

At the corner Union Street and 6th Avenue, in the heart of the Slope, a power-walking thirtysomething mother was multitasking, pushing a stroller with child aboard and walking a giant, commanding bulldog-like canine. As she was headed north on 6th Avenue, another thirtysomething was walking her petite, scrappier-looking dog. Just as the two dogs began to take interest in each other in the warm sunshine -- it's spring ... dogs get feisty -- an older couple pushing 60, strolled right into the nexus of danger!

The bulldog got excited; the scrappier dog did too. There was some barking. The bulldog leaped into the air and did some sort of acrobatic half twist, and in the process, hit the poor sextegenarian woman right in the face!

So, this begs the question: What's the bigger threat to the sacred quality of life of Brownstone Brooklyn? Those skateboarding punks supposedly menacing nearby Boerum Hill or stroller-pushing, multi-tasking Park Slope mothers who can't choose between their dogs and kids?

When I related the story to someone today, she said that you have to consider that when you're a mother, you sometimes must juggle a pet and a child and thus are forced to bring both out into the public arena. Thankfully, I have yet to see such multi-tasking on Smith or Court streets in my neighborhood. And here's a sign that sidewalk life is better on my side of the Gowanus Canal: I have yet to see a double-wide stroller. I'm crossing my fingers that I will avoid an awkward sidewalk-sharing encounter down the road.

Map courtesy the Metropolitan Transportation Authority; photo of Court Street's stroller scourge courtesy Pardon Me for Asking via Curbed

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Sunday, March 30, 2008

NORTHEAST CORRIDOR: N.Y.-Bound

I'M HEADED TO NEW YORK in the morning. New job.

Oh yes, I don't think I've actually technically announced it on this here blog. Earlier this month, I accepted an offer to be deputy managing editor of Observer Media Group's Politicker.com, an expanding network of state-specific insider politics websites. If you're familiar with PoliticsNJ.com an PoliticsNH.com, they've been renamed with the Observer's Politicker brand. More have been launched, more are on the way. Here's some background on the project from The New York Times' Brian Stelter. I'll be working from the offices of The New York Observer near the Flatiron Building. I'll be resettling in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, in the next two weeks, which means that I'm splitting my time between D.C. and New York. But Washington won't be a stranger to me and I plan semi-regular visits.

Photo of Manhattan taken from Long Island City, Queens, by Michael Grass

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Saturday, March 29, 2008

SOUTHWEST FREEWAY: Isn't It Already Named for Dwight Eisenhower?


FROM THE CITY PAPER, there's a report that D.C. Council member Marion Barry is pushing legislation to rename parts of the Southeast-Southwest Freeway complex of I-395 and I-295 (which includes a section that's actually an unsigned portion of I-695 ... if you can keep that all straight) in honor of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

But there's one problem if you're into cartography like me. If you examine some maps, the Southwest Freeway portion of the proposed renamed route already honors President Dwight D. Eisenhower (see photo). Honoring Dr. King is not the issue here, but on technical grounds it seems that the renaming could create a new layer of confusion to navigating D.C.'s chopped-up expressways.

Nichols Avenue in Ward 8 was renamed Martin Luther King Jr. Avenue many years ago. Barry is proposing that the 11th Street bridges, the Southeast-Southwest freeway complex and a portion of Maine Avenue up to its intersection with 15th Street SW/Raoul Wallenberg Place be renamed Martin Luther King Jr. Drive. Note the difference between Avenue and Drive. Most of the Drive portion is actually part of the Interstate highway system, while the Avenue portion is an existing D.C. roadway. (I've mapped it all here.)

While the extended King Avenue/Drive might make sense to Barry (it's perhaps the quickest route between Ward 8 and D.C. Council chambers at the Wilson Building) it might be incredibly confusing to those coming from Virginia or Northwest D.C., not to mention other quadrants.

The argument cuts in different ways. In any regard, it's awfully confusing.

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Wednesday, March 19, 2008

EXPRESS: At Oyamel, Tequila Is a Key Ingredient


AT OYAMEL, the management won't stop you from doing a shot of tequila. But what a waste, considering the Penn Quarter restaurant is the first place in the D.C. area with special Agave de Oro certification from the Tequila Regulatory Council of Mexico. It's an honor only a handful of restaurants in the U.S. can claim. And for Oyamel, which specializes in contemporary Mexican cuisine, it wasn't easy to get. [More ...]

Photo by Pablo de Loy

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Tuesday, March 18, 2008

MEADOWLANDS: New Jersey Is On Fire


SO ON MONDAY, I was on Amtrak heading into Penn Station in Manhattan. As we were crossing the Meadowlands between Newark and Secaucus, there was a giant wildfire on the side of the tracks, right off the New Jersey Turnpike viaduct. Fun times ...

Thursday, March 13, 2008

ARLINGTON: Observations From the 38B

FOR BUS RIDERS, the sight of an Arlington County police officer subduing an uncooperative man on the Wilson Boulevard pavement would be a great window-gazing side-show spectacle. But on Monday afternoon, few riders of the 38B bus bound for Ballston noticed as they were distracted by a humorous drama between two women on board.

When the bus stopped to pick up passengers at the Rosslyn station, it was delayed for a few minutes by an older woman — perhaps in her 60s or 70s — who didn't have exact change for the $1.35 fare and was asking passengers if they could break a $5 bill. There was something odd about her, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. She moved slowly and methodically, sizing up everyone in a manner that could be considered sinister. She moved toward the back and I put her out of my mind.

Then, another woman took an available seat toward the front and started to carry on an open conversation with the people around her and started complaining about something I didn't understand at first. Then things came into focus: "She's a nasty woman." ... "She's always been a problem on this bus. A witch she is." ... "Sister ain't gonna steal my joy. No. No she ain't."

I put two and two together: She was referring to the woman who had just passed on by.

All the sudden I heard from the back: "Lay-dee, you hush! I don't even know you."

A heated conversation ensued as other passengers laughed, taking the whole thing in.

"Shut your trap, lay-dee! I don't even know you," the targeted woman snapped back. "Lay-dee, you lie!"

To that, the other woman said: "See what I'm saying. She's always nasty. Nasty, nasty. Sister ain't gonna steal my joy. No, not today."

Sometimes the Orange Line, despite being crowded with people, can be a boring trip. The 38B, referred to as the "Orange Line With a View" can provide ample entertainment, as long as you're not in a rush and aren't looking to steal any person's joy.

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