The Rogers News

Tag: washington dc

  • A Few Things About Me

    A few things to note about this picture*:

    (1) It was taken in my one-bedroom apartment in Rosselyn, VA. I paid way too much for the apartment.

    (2) You can see golf clubs in the picture. I like to golf.

    (3) The University of Michigan hat you can see, I no longer have.

    (4) I’ve had that TV since my freshman year in college. I still use it.

    (5) It was difficult to glue eyes on the wooden man. In fact, they fell off shortly thereafter. Sad, I know.

    (6) The out-of-focus picture is of my hometown.
    *Update 2009: Picture of wooden artist doll.

  • Subway Violinist

    The Washington Post recently ran an article with video depicting Joshua Bell, a violin virtuoso, playing in a Washington D.C. metro stop during morning rush hour. The article notes that of approximately 1000 people to walk by the violinist, less than a dozen even seemed to notice.

    If I still lived in D.C. and I came across the performance, would I stop? Probably not considering that it was in the morning and I would probably be late.

    The article points out how people in Europe or Brazil would stop to take in the world-class entertainment, but what does that say? That the foreigners have more lenient bosses? That they have higher job security? Although we all may like to “stop and smell the roses” on the way to work, the world in which we live often does not allow such leniences.

    If the violinist played in the evening during the homeward commute, I posit that the reception would be much warmer.

  • Morning Walk

    I walk the street each morning to get coffee. Rush hour. People look busy – frantic and frozen. Most travel efficiently, cutting corners and jumping signals when they can. Heads down. Hands tucked. Earphones firmly sunk.They are shutoff to the world around them as if today was nothing more than the indistinguishable middle of an infinite staccato experience. The probability of something extra-ordinary happening is no greater than their chance of winning the lottery, which is clearly stated in the window of the deli down the street as 1 in 172 million.

    Bad odds to bet your smile on.

    A bell tolls from the horizon. It’s a sound you would pay to hear played in a grand hall by famous musicians. Deep and pure, it resonates as if it were coming from within – but feels more like I am along the inside edge of its hallow drum. The vibrations grab me. Touch the small of my back and run their fingers along my spine until I shudder.

    I look around, wondering if anyone else hears it. Nothing. Not a soul so much as flinches.

    The hammer strikes the wall again – rings a deep smooth percussion. I shake more. Still, heads down. Eyes glazed. The passing time so meaningless it might as well stop ticking. The bell shakes again.

    I’m still this time. I step back a moment. Cautious. Wanting to locate the drum. Others walk through it. No notice. No care. It’s more efficient that way.