7 things about D.C. that don't suck

It’s been a year since we packed up the kids and left Boise to chase opportunities in Washington, D.C. That means it’s been a year now that I've been bitching about how much I miss Idaho and how my favorite beer, bread, and baseball from the Pacific Northwest are largely unavailable (as is reasonably priced wild-caught Pacific salmon, but that messes up my alliteration thing). I’ve bitch/blogged about all of this because that’s sort of what I do.

Beyond missing stuff from the past, I’ve been forced to adjust to certain inconveniences that come with living in a large metro area in the mid-Atlantic region. Are you familiar with the claim that Yup’ik people living above the Arctic Circle have ten thousand words for snow? Here in D.C., there are ten thousand ways to say humidity. Sweet baby Jesus it can be humid here. In the summer, the act of drying myself after a shower causes me to sweat. Even my sweat has sweat. And then there’s the “C” word: commuting. Snarled traffic, overcrowded trains, late buses, parking that is non-existent and expensive. Commuters tune in and listen to local news and weather station WTOP’s “Traffic on the Eights” with an intensity more common to neurosurgeons, air traffic controllers, and teenage boys playing [note to self: google and insert name of super intense video game that the kids these days are playing].

Recent spring evening with my favorite
six-year-old. And a bloody mary.

But recently I had an awakening. On a mild and sunny spring evening a few weeks ago, my family and I were dining on the deck of our suburban home in a quiet neighborhood, surrounded by towering oaks and chattering birds and hanging flower baskets, enjoying grilled Alaskan Copper River sockeye ($19.95 per pound at Whole Foods in Bethesda). Life was good. I suddenly realized that I was not giving my new home enough credit, that in general I have accentuated the negative and ignored the positive.

So today I attempt to absolve myself by moving out (far out) of my comfort zone and writing something that is nice. Positive even. Here are seven things about living in the D.C. metro area that do not suck.

 1.         Weather

Capital Crescent Trail after snowfall.

Hear me out on this one. Yes, it’s true that just the other morning I sweat through my shirt on the ten-minute walk from the Farragut North metro station to my office and I am pretty sure I was breathing straight H2O. Yes, it can by wicked miserable here, especially in July and August and much of June and September as well. But this spring has been terrific. Trees in full bloom and too early for mosquitoes. Everything is green and lush and many nights we have left the windows open. Other non-summer seasons are nice here, too. In the fall, the colors are amazing. I even enjoyed this past winter when our kids missed ten days of school because of snow (most of them legitimate, even by non-D.C. standards). It made everything look clean and fresh and it justified the fact we hauled snow shovels and snow boots and ski jackets out from Idaho. Three seasons out of four: I can make that work. Especially when I complete details of my inchoate plan to telework summers from a cabin near Stanley, Idaho. Something with the Salmon River out my front door and the Sawtooth Mountains out my back would be acceptable.

2.         Traffic

Again, stick with me. I stipulate that traffic here is fugly. So bad that I can travel the eight miles from my house to work faster by bike (thirty minutes) than by public transportation (an hour). My bike commute is nearly faster than carpooling with my wife, Carissa, who has the ultimate D.C. status indicator: work-provided parking. But she travels too much for her job to be a reliable chauffeur. The result is that I am gradually becoming a cyclist as a matter of convenience. In the process I am discovering that I enjoy riding my bike to work. Instead of losing a small piece of my soul every minute I spend stuck in traffic, I’m stealing time by sneaking in a workout on my bike. Sometimes I bike to work even when my chauffeur is available, and I have begun to venture out on longer rides on weekends. Bottom line: D.C. traffic is a hidden blessing because it has the power to encourage healthy habits. Unless, like me, you squander those extra calories burned on the bike on cheeseburgers and Jameson.

3.         Running

Boise is tough (impossible) to beat as a running community. Extensive foothills trails complemented by miles of greenbelt paths along the Boise River. But D.C. ain’t bad. From my house in Bethesda, I am within one mile of two dedicated biking/running routes (C&O Canal tow path and Capital Crescent Trail) that can take me anywhere from downtown D.C. to Rock Creek Park to forested paths along the Potomac River to additional trail systems on the Virginia side of the river. Long runs can take me from Maryland to the District of Columbia to Virginia and back. Even better are lunchtime runs from my office where my favorite 5.4 mile loop takes me past Lincoln Memorial, Washington Monument, the White House, U.S. Capitol, Supreme Court building, Library of Congress, and most of the Smithsonian museums. The place is thick with tourists at times, many of whom travel in large packs and seem oblivious to others using public pathways, but I’m more than happy to share. OK, not more than happy to share, but I understand that’s part of the price I pay for using the National Mall as my playground.

4.         Weekends

Natitude.

There is a lot of amazing free shit do to. All the monuments and memorials. Nineteen Smithsonian museums and galleries plus the National Zoo (yup, giant pandas – free). Arlington National Cemetery. Famous authors talking about their books at Politics and Prose bookstore. Festivals and exhibitions. And if you get tired of free stuff, there’s plenty of fun stuff that costs money, like Washington Nationals baseball games and other sports events, Kennedy Center performances, music venues, George Washington’s home. Our things-to-do list grows faster than we can move items onto our things-we’ve-done list.

5.       Gateway to the East

Having lived most of my life in the Pacific Northwest and Northern Rockies, I’ve seen a whole lot of the western United States. Now, living halfway between Miami and Maine, we’re doing our best to cover the flip side of the continent. You can get almost anywhere on the east coast in just a few hours by air. Even by car, it’s an easy drive to Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York City, Colonial Williamsburg, Gettysburg, Shenandoah National Park, Blue Ridge Mountains, Virginia Beach . . . you get the point. One caveat about driving, though, is that nothing about it is is easy if you attempt to use I-95 north or south on a Friday afternoon, when it basically becomes one really, really long parking lot.

U.S. Rep. Frank Underwood (D-SC).

6.       People

Washington, D.C., has a popular image as a place filled with the worst sort of folks: lobbyists, lawyers, politicians, journalists, bureaucrats. As a former (non-D.C.) journalist and current D.C. lawyer/bureaucrat, I’ll own my biases. But people I work with, people in our neighborhood, parents of kids at our kids’ schools, people we interact with on a daily basis, have been as friendly, generous, and welcoming as people anywhere I’ve lived. Maybe it’s because so many people come here from somewhere else. Or maybe it’s just that people are generally decent (I've spent a few years in Texas and even the Texans were generally decent). Maybe that doesn’t fit the stereotype, but I just report, you decide. School just let out for summer and I already miss our informal morning meeting with parents from the ‘hood waiting with their kids at the bus stop. But enough. Gonna take a break and start watching House of Cards season three on Netflix.

7.       We get company

Me and Uncle Clint Farlee.

Boise is a great place to visit, but over the years only a handful of friends ever unexpectedly called to announce that they would be in Boise for business or pleasure and had some free time to catch up over dinner and drinks. Since we’ve moved to D.C., you almost need to call ahead for reservations to make sure we aren’t booked by some other party who happens to be in D.C. with a free evening. In the past twelve months we’ve seen friends, old neighbors, relatives, former colleagues, and even a former high school teacher, coming from Idaho, Oregon, Wyoming, South Dakota, Nebraska, Colorado, Brussels, Belgium, and probably a few I’m forgetting. So, hey, make reservations early and I’ll grab steaks for the grill and cold beer.

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This is the long way to say that D.C. doesn’t totally suck. But please don't become accustomed to me doing warm and fuzzy. Btich/blogging will return in due time.