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Water Main Break Forces Emergency Rescue in Bethesda

Leave it to the D.C. metro area to turn something as normally humdrum as a winter water main break into a dramatic rescue operation. Tune in to News Channel 8/WJLA for the best views of the large water main break near River Road that's forced Montgomery County authorities to send in helicopters and, yes we're not kidding, boats to rescue stranded motorists caught in roughly 4 feet of rushing water due to the broken main. At least twelve people have reportedly already been rescued.

Washington Suburban Sanitary Commission said that a broken 66-inch water main is the culprit behind the sudden flood, and that they still have not been able to shut off the water yet. Given how cold the water must be, that's not going to be a fun task.

Stay tuned for more dramatic updates!

UPDATE: WJLA's updated story quotes a member of the rescue team as saying that the extreme, river or ocean rescue-style tactics they employed were deemed necessary because they were worried the trapped vehicles could have been swept away. Everyone has since been safely removed from the flooded road; a total of 15 or 16 people were rescued.

WSSC workers are now working on closing another valve up the line in order to halt the flow of water.

Big Week for SmarTrip Cards

It's a big week for SmarTrip cards, leading up to the even bigger week beginning Jan. 4, 2009, when the electronic farecards will be required in order to take advantage of bus-to-bus, rail-to-bus or the new bus-to-rail transfer options within the WMATA transit system.

Starting today, you can purchase a commemorative Barack Obama inauguration SmarTrip card. The special cards, which cost $10 and come with no value preloaded onto them (or pay $20 upfront and get $10 in value on the card) can be purchased online or at Metro sales offices. The commemorative cards featuring Obama's face are not to be confused with the special $10 one-day Inauguration paper farecards, which also feature Obama's face. Those paper cards offer unlimited rides on Metro all day on Jan. 20, and are also available online or at Metro sales offices. The commemorative SmarTrip cards work just like regular SmarTrips, and do not offer any special fare discount or unlimited rides.
Starting tomorrow, regular SmarTrip cards will be available for purchase at most CVS stores in the immediate D.C. area. Metro has reached an agreement with 190 CVS stores in the District of Columbia, Maryland and Virginia to sell SmarTrip for $10 each, with $5 already loaded on the card. More details available here. Only regular SmarTrip cards, and not commemorative cards, will be sold at the CVS stores. Want to check to see if your closest CVS will carry the cards? Follow this link for a searchable list, and keep an eye out for a decal that says "SmarTrip sold here" that should be posted on the door of each participating store.

Photo by Mr. T in DC

Tibs The Season

As the city stares down another D.C. winter, my thoughts inevitably turn to the warming comfort of D.C.'s Ethiopian food culture. In contrast to a shabby Chinatown and the occasional Latin gem in Adams Morgan, the vibrant Ethiopian scene in D.C. is the shining star of our downtown ethnic cuisine offerings. If you're looking to take visiting family out to a uniquely D.C. dinner, you should really consider an Ethiopian restaurant. Although they are most common around U Street in the 9th-12th Street range, there is also a pocket in Adams Morgan, a few strewn around Georgetown and Logan Circle, and a strong showing in the suburbs. We randomly surveyed six local Ethiopian restaurants to see how they prepare this DCist's favorite specialty: tibs.

Although Ethiopian food tends to be characterized by the braised or stewed dishes called wat, tibs is a dish that resembles a stir-fry. Although there are many variations, the core ingredient list includes lamb or beef, onions, and the traditional berbere spice mix. Cooking methods also vary: many seemed to have been sautéed in butter, but others were grilled, or even deep-fried.

To undertake this survey, I would need help. Ethiopian food is notoriously filling, with the injera filling the role as both utensil and stomach-liner, and several friends joined me on this venture so that we could hit more than one place a night and not be completely stuffed by the end. NB: Our methods were far from scientific. At some places, we ordered beef tibs, while at others, we went with the lamb. A few places only offered one while others offered both. Mostly we just wanted to try as many restaurants as we could in a short time. This is obviously not an exhaustive review of every Ethiopian restaurant in D.C. Feel free to throw your two cents in to the comments.

Photos by Eric DenmanAlthough the goal was primarily to evaluate tibs dishes, I also tried out the Ethiopian beverages on offer. Many places offered Tej, the honey-wine that is similar to mead, and I found it to be alternately delicious and terrible. The Gorem brand has a sickeningly sweet flavor with a nauseating aroma: it could easily be used as a placebo in a clinical cough syrup test. The Addis Tej brand was much smoother, and I had excellent versions at Etete and Queen Makeda that the servers could not name.

Ethiopian beer deserves a mention, but only because it's not very good. In the past, I've enjoyed the Harar Hakim stout, but none of the places in the survey carried it. Although the beverages were interesting, the real results were definitely more about the tibs.

Madjet: Awesome tender chunks of beef with green pepper and onion. Perfectly sautéed, buttery, with a nice spicy berbere sauce in the middle for dipping. The injera was served on the side, which is interesting because all other tibs dishes on this romp were served atop injera. Terrible cough-syrup tej, a couple Ethiopian beers available.

Almaz: Their tibs consisted of stringy beef that was apparently fried, because it was crispy and a bit oily. It was annoyingly stringy, much like stew meat. The place was completely empty except for a company party in another room, and the result was that it felt like eating dinner in a deserted dance club. Special mention for not having Tej and also being out of Ethiopian beer.

Dukem: Although Dukem came highly recommended, the tibs were a disappointment. The slightly dry chunks of lamb on injera with jalapeno and random pockets of exploding rosemary flavor came with oil-packed tomatoes on the side. We saw the same cough-syrup Tej, and a few more Ethiopian beers available.

Awash: The lamb tibs were good, but closer to a stew preparation than the grilled versions. We also got a chance to try the kitfo (raw ground beef) and a lamb organ dish that completely stole the show. The Addis Tej was available here. This spot is notable because the place was packed with Ethiopians watching TV and socializing - always a good sign.

Meskerem: The lamb tibs were sautéed and had a decent balance of butter and lamb flavor. Nothing to write home about, sadly. Bad Tej rears its ugly head again here, and the stool seating upstairs is downright uncomfortable.

Queen Makeda: Another place that was completely empty on a mid-week night at prime dinner hour, although the food here blew Almaz out of the water. Tibs were juicy chunks of lamb with onion and not-too-spicy slices of jalapeno, very nicely done. The kitfo was intensely spicy, and better than Awash's, and the vegetarian combo would make any veggie friend happy. The Tej was delicious, and a steal at $5.

If I had to pick a winner out of these six, Madjet comes out on top for tibs, with Queen Makeda close behind. Awash and Meskerem were both acceptable, but not worth seeking out. Almaz was the clear loser of the bunch, with Dukem also falling behind due to the overcooked meat.

What are your favorite places for tibs?

Revised Estimates Cut Inauguration Crowd by Half

Remember when D.C. Mayor Adrian Fenty said he was expecting 4 million people to show up for Inauguration Day, but some federal officials retorted that his number was way too high? Well today the Post reports that estimates appear to be being revised to more like 2 million -- which is still way, way more than the 400,000 or so who attended the 2005 inauguration of President Bush, but at least it doesn't quite put the fear of God into everyone. The story does a good job of keeping track of the wildly varying numbers and explaining why those numbers are all so different: most officials admit that they just don't have any models from which they can base their plans.

Morning Roundup: Merry Christmas Chuck Brown Edition

Good morning, Washington. I think there must be something wrong with me. Christmas is coming, but I'm not happy; I don't feel the way I'm supposed to feel. I just don't understand Christmas, I guess. I like getting presents, and sending Christmas cards, and decorating trees and all that, but I'm still not happy. I always end up feeling depressed.

Maybe it's the fact that the Washington Nationals snatched defeat from the jaws of victory when the New York Yankees signed California Angels first baseman Mark Teixeira. The ever-optimistic Washington Post opines that the Nationals find themselves in the company of many other more legitimate baseball teams who mustered the money but also failed to sign baseball's hottest property. Food for Thought says the Nats just cleared the way for Adam Dunn. D.C. Pro Sports Report says that several players, plural, would be better than the one big hitter. But for many Nats fans, an instant message to one clueless Spencer Ackerman captures the feeling in the District toward the Yankees' pickup.

Oh well. There's always the ~~Redskins~~ ~~Wizards~~ Capitals. Good grief.

Five Holdups Along Rock Creek Park in 90 Minutes: Residents of D.C.'s toniest neighborhoods were rattled by a quick succession of holdups along Rock Creek Park. Five evening holdups in Georgetown, Tenleytown, Glover Park, and Cleveland Park saw residents robbed of their personal possessions, including wallets and a Burberry scarf. Three robbers robbed pedestrians on the 3300 block of O Street NW and around the 4000 blocks of Calvert and Albemarle Streets NW off Wisconsin Ave, according to the Washington Post. Less than an hour later, two robbers mugged walkers near the 2500 block of Porter Street and the 2800 stretch of Quebec Street. In one incident, the robbers reportedly used a gun. Last-minute Christmas shopping at its worst.

Oprah Is Not Moving to D.C.: Contrary to a report in the New York Post that Oprah Winfrey is househunting in the District, she isn't, says a Winfrey flack. NBC4 says that she isn't looking to sign on a $50-million home in Georgetown. The real news here might be that someone is looking to sell a home for $50 million in this economic climate.

Briefly Noted: Ward 6 Councilman Tommy Wells joins Public Works committee . . . Tim Kaine's brother-in-law among names bandied for U.S. attorney . . . River road remains closed as crews do work.

Bead Museum To Close

The Washington Business Journal breaks the bad news at the Bead Museum: the museum will shutter at the end of this year. The report describes the museum's woes:

Despite minimal money spent on marketing and collaborating with other cultural and community groups, the 1,600-square-foot museum could not stay afloat. Competition with D.C. tourists vying to see the visible Smithsonian Institution sites along the National Mall did not help. The Bead Museum is tucked inside the Jenifer Building at 400 7th St. NW.

The museum’s main income stream has come from gift shop sales and twice-yearly bead bazaar sales. The rest comes from membership fees and donations.

The report keys in on museum officials' hopes that foot traffic would increase with the opening of the Textile Museum in the neighborhood in 2008. But the sales associated with foot traffic weren't the Bead Museum's problem. Or rather, problems.

According to publicly available tax records, net receipts (from gift-store and other sales activies) reached their highest mark in fiscal year 2007, at $71,259 — up from FY 2006's $63,970 and consistent with performance in prior years. In addition, the Bead Museum reported $26,189 in additional revenue — receipts that dwarfed figures from FY 2006 ($842) and FY 2005 ($1,027). By all accounts, the Bead Museum enjoyed a strong year in sales last year. (Figures for FY 2008 are not available.)

The Bead Museum did not enjoy much in the way of public support, however. Membership fees declined over the last few years, though not precipitously. Program service revenue — including government contracts and the like — dropped from $105,777 in FY 2005 to $70,377 in FY 2007. However, the sharpest decline came in direct support: contributions, gifts, and grants. These figures dropped from $34,215 in FY 2005 to $24,124 in FY 2006 — before falling a whole order of magnitude in FY 2007, when direct contributions totaled $2,016.

At the same time, the rent went up. Occupancy costs nearly doubled from FY 2005 to FY 2007, rising from $37,000 to $67,000. From the tax records, a loose sketch emerges of an organization that began to lose its footing while its station in Penn Quarter continued to prove untenable.

One wonders whether the Bead Museum ever approached the Textile Museum about combining forces to create a Craft Museum. (Probably an unimaginable horror to the hardcore advocates of the respective bead and text arts.) Will you miss the Bead Museum, Washington?

Bead Museum photograph used with permission under a Creative Commons license with Flickr user stgermh

Be Here Now. Please! Oasis @ The Patriot Center

Forget everything you thought you knew about Oasis!

I kid, of course. While Los Bros. Gallaghers and The Whomevers may continue to rate themselves in the Beatles-Stones pantheon, they’ve got a lot more in common with AC/DC or the Black Crowes. This is a band that prides itself on being proof against evolution.

I’ll give them this much: “Rock and Roll Star” is one hell of a way to open a rock 'n' roll show. It’s the best example of everything (and probably the only thing) Oasis does masterfully: their swaggeringly low ambition, their success in conjuring the same air of decadence and entitlement the Stones had back before any of us were born. Plus there’s that chorus that automatically twists your face into a sneer when you sing it! It’s from their first album, 1994’s Definitely Maybe, as you surely know. And they’ve never improved upon it, which you probably know, too, whether you want to admit it or not.
It isn’t even all that big a problem that Liam Gallagher, hands down the meanest tambourine player in Britpop, might not be quite able to sing it any more. Launching into the wish-fulfillment anthem at a close-to-full Patriot Center Saturday night, he sounded flat and out-of-breath. When he returned to his group’s debut album for “Cigarettes and Alcohol” (which was covered by Rod Stewart, and would, in fact, sound right at home on the Faces box set) a few songs later, he struggled again, relying on that bark-singing thing that plagued Mick Jagger in the mid-'70s, when the Stones were as far into their preternaturally extended career as Oasis are now. But if Liam or his brother, band-engine Noel Gallagher, betrayed any flash of doubt on the question of his innate magnificence, he’d be in another band, wouldn’t he?

Bodies, and voices, change over the course of a decade-and-a-half. That’s life, Mate. But Oasis doesn’t want to change. “I’m trying salmon. That’s as far as my interest in new things go,” Liam Gallagher recently declaimed. No surprise, then, that Oasis’s Saturday night gig felt remarkably similar to the only Oasis show I’d attended previously — in 1996, when they really were the cocks of the walk on both sides of the Atlantic. Even half the set list was the same, despite the fact that they’ve released five studio albums since, dutifully checking off the beloved warhorses from the first Clinton Administration, which, shaky vocals aside, still sound fab. And why shouldn’t they? Oasis is a great singles band.

It is are not, however, a great live band. Which isn’t to say that they couldn’t be. They just don’t seem interested. Los Bros. Gallagher are forever citing their working-class Manchester backgrounds, so maybe it's fully deliberate that their performing persona comes across as so, well, workmanlike. Which can look a lot like boredom from the other side of a sports arena.

If ever an audience might have reasonable cause to expect something a little different, a little special, a little irreverent, a tour-ending gig five days before Christmas would be the time. But we got the same 20-song setlist the band has apparently performed on every other date of this tour, ostensibly built around the half-dozen tracks included from this year’s pretty-good Dig Out Your Soul LP. None of the performances were bad. The gig was simply lacking in mystery or surprise.

Liam Gallagher is a bore as a frontman, standing stock still at the mic when he isn’t chugging bottled water or pacing around like he’s waiting to be called in for a job interview. His few song introductions were brief and mostly unintelligible. (He spent a quarter of the show offstage, apparently deciding that the songs Noel sung required no tambourine accompaniment.) Openers the Cardinals, a real band, it turns out, rather than just a bunch of nobodies propping up Ryan Adams, may have tested the crowd’s patience with their semi-funny stage banter, but at least they appeared to be having a good time.

But with a few exceptions — the stirring crowd singalong of “Don’t Look Back in Anger,” the one that goes, “please don’t put your life in the hands of a rock and roll band, and throw it all away” — it seemed the headliners would have performed much the same show for 10,000 empty seats. Before singing “The Importance of Being Idle”, Noel remarked that he’d visited the White House earlier that day. “It’s the same size as my house in London,” he cracked. “Virtually identical.” It was a great line, but otherwise he seemed disinterested even in stoking that kind of confrontational bile, something the gig most definitely could have used. Later on, when, speaking of the Cardinals, he quipped, “of all the support bands we’ve ever had, they’ve been the most recent,” it seemed like an out-of-nowhere slap at an act that was more fully present onstage than either of the Gallaghers.

Cool, reserved arrogance is Oasis’s schtick. Long live the Queen and all that. It just doesn’t make them great company over the course of an evening, or even 105 minutes. When Paul Weller, one of their spiritual antecedents, played the 9:30 Club a few months back, he managed to make the occasion feel celebratory without wrinkling his peacock suit.

“You’ve been great, but not as great as us,” Liam shrugged before kicking off their customary closer, “I Am the Walrus”. I beg to differ — the crowd had indeed been marvelous, bellowing along with the hits, and accepting the new songs with no detectable impatience. But Oasis? Here's my problem with Oasis: It's isn't that they claim to be the greatest band in the world. (No.) It's that they act like the job is boring. Talk about crushing your dreams!

Hooking Up this Hanukkah?

Despite what Kyle from South Park said, it’s pretty darn good to be a Jew on Christmas. With Hanukkah underway and multiple Christmas Eve bashes to choose from, get ready for a week-long Jewish singles’ bonanza. The Matzo Ball and its myriad competitors are derided by some for their meatmarket vibe, but whether you're looking to bump into friends, find a mensch to take home for Passover, anxious to start a family, or just want to practice, there's sure to be a scene for you.

While the place to be on Monday and Saturday night is clear, no less than three Christmas Eve parties vie for your attention on Wednesday. Here’s what you need to know and where you need to go to find that special someone this Hanukkah season.

Monday, December 22

Hanukkah Happy Hour on the Hill
If there’s one night to circle for every young Jewish professional in D.C., it very well may be the night Gesher City hosts their annual Hanukkah Happy Hour on the Hill. Every young Jew you’ve ever met or will meet will likely be packed somewhere within the three floors of the Pour House tonight. It’s the perfect place to bump into that cute girl you met at Shabbat services a few weeks back or avoid your ex-boyfriend like the plague. Why not both? The HHHH is co-sponsored by a laundry list of young Jewish organizations.

Photo by Jamie LiuWednesday, December 24

Matzo Ball
The Matzo Ball moves to Ultrabar, a step up from the previous two years spent between Club Five, Sesto Senso, and Andalu. Creator of the Christmas Eve ball concept, The Matzo Ball bills itself as the party that is often imitated, but never duplicated. And with the weight of the Jewish Professionals Network email list behind the party, organizers boast that several thousands of young (and some maybe not so young) professionals will attend the event. Expect a younger crowd on the main floor and basement for hip hop and Top 40, with the older folks flirting to the soundtrack of retro classics in “The Bedroom” section of the club. Eww! Tickets are $25 in advance and $30 at the door. No, drinks aren’t included.

Gefilte Fish Gala
Down the street, the Gefilte Fish Gala rocks K Street Lounge. In its 15th year, this homegrown party attracted over 1,000 people in 2007. It’s a laid back alternative to the Matzo Ball, which can mean a slightly older or less intense crowd. Suggested $5 charitable donation instead of $30 at the door. Casual attire is encouraged as opposed to Matzo’s “dress to impress.” And for neighbors to the north, there will also be a Gefilte Fish Gala at Union Jack’s in Bethesda.

The Ball 2008
The Ball 2008, at Love, presents the evening’s most intriguing possibility. The host, Let My People Go, may be beating the Matzo Ball at their own game; The Ball has eclipsed the Matzo Ball as NYC’s hottest Christmas Eve party. 2008 marks The Ball’s first year in D.C., and they’ve booked a hot location. Still, it may be a bit out of the way for a clientele generally not accustomed to trekking out to New York Avenue for nightlife. There’s no local promoter, but co-sponsor JDate is getting the word out to members. And for what it’s worth, the Going Out Guru’s have slapped their editors’ pick checkmark on the event and declared it “the biggest one” of the three big parties. Let My People Go is hoping for 1,000. If it’s much less, Love is going to feel pretty cavernous Wednesday evening. This party is also $25 in advance and $30 at the door.
UPDATE: This event has been cancelled hours before it was scheduled to begin. Did they realize lack of Metro and cab access meant crowds wouldn't come. Were they afraid of the Gefilte Fish Gala? When we find out, we'll let you know.

Saturday, December 27
Club Eight on Sixth
The building that is now the Sixth & I Historic Synagogue was nearly made into a nightclub before prominent local real estate tycoons acquired and preserved the space. On December 27th, Birthright Israel NEXT and the Jewish Federation of Greater Washington, the co-sponsors of the party, promise to transform the synagogue’s basement into the swanky nightclub it might have been, recreating a Tel Aviv vibe for D.C.'s 20 and young 30-something crowd. Come early for the menorah lighting; stay until 2 a.m. for the DJ and Israeli hip-hop. Tickets are $8 in advance and only $2 more at the door, though there is a maximum capacity of 300 in the synagogue's social hall. (Full disclosure: the author is a co-chair for this event).

Morning Roundup: Bluster and Blunder Edition

Good morning, Washington. We hope those of you who gleefully celebrated the winter solstice yesterday are happy with yourselves; as far as we're concerned, you are responsible for bringing the arctic airmass currently over the region, along with the sub-freezing temperatures, ice and wind chills in the teens that came along with it. This is all your fault, winter-lovers! Hang your heads in shame!

Budget Shortfalls Are Gifts That Keep on Giving: The Examiner reports that even though the latest projected budget gap for the District, a roughly $127 million shortfall for 2009 which came to light on Friday, is expected to be fairly easily managed without major cuts, the city will face even more financial woes for many more years down the line. D.C. CFO Natwar Gandhi is now projecting that the District will come up short by $304 million in 2010, $330 million in 2011 and $328 million in 2012.

EMS Probe to Investigate Death: The Washington Times got the scoop over the weekend that D.C. Fire and EMS Chief Dennis Rubin has asked the city's inspector general to investigate the death of Edward Givens, the man who instructed by paramedics to take antacids for heartburn and then died several hours later. The fire department is also investigating the incident and Rubin said they would forward their results to the Office of the Inspector General.

Briefly Noted: Woman killed on Parkway due to icy roads ... Double homicide in Dale City ... Police shoot man who stabbed woman in Takoma Park ... VRE looks to another fare increase by summer.

Photo by picture prefect

Out of Frame: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

There's a tug of war going on throughout Benjamin Button's lengthy running time. On one side of the moat, there's director David Fincher, as always with an eye towards burrowing into the darker side of the human experience. Anchoring him is the ghost of F. Scott Fitzgerald, whose strange and somewhat clinical short story provides the inspiration for the film. Opposing those two is screenwriter Eric Roth, the writer of a couple of quite good films, but mostly of unwieldy junk with highbrow aspirations, the worst offender (and most appropriate to discussions of Button) being Forrest Gump. Giving him support is Alexandre Desplat, who provides an overbearing heartstring-tugger of a score, and, more importantly, a cadre of studio executives hell-bent on getting a weepy crowd-pleaser in the spirit of Titanic and Gump for their $150 million dollar investment. Who's going to win?

Well, the only element left of Fitzgerald's story is the title and the basic premise of a man born looking 70 years old and gradually aging backwards. Beyond that, Roth has little use for the source material, resetting the time and location of the start of the tale from Civil War-era Baltimore to WWI-era New Orleans, and scrapping the rest of the plot along with it. Roth's vision is of a tragic love story. Brad Pitt, as the title character, is born as a very wrinkly and decrepit looking baby and, as accident and good fortune would have it, is left on the doorstep of a rest home. A few years later, the child-like but elderly Benjamin (played by Brad Pitt) meets the actual child Daisy (Cate Blanchett), and an odd friendship blooms that turns into star-crossed relationship, into full-blown romance as the two come closer and closer in the appearance of their ages. Nothing lasts forever, though, and we can see where this path inevitably leads.

It's not an inherently flawed premise, but it is in Roth's saccharine-stained hands. Those unfortunate enough to still be unable to wipe Forrest Gump from their memory will recognize the beats of that movie immediately here. The episodic construction with an Event of Great Significance to mark each one; the use of nostalgia as a rickety crutch; one insipid leitmotif that springs up multiple times as a metaphor so bludgeoningly obvious you'll have a headache from the hammer used to deliver it. In the case of Gump, it was that recurring feather; here it's a hummingbird used in identical fashion. But it's more frustrating in this case, because as with so much of the film, it's easy to see how it could have been so much better.
And there is a great deal to recommend in Benjamin Button. The special effects are a wonder, allowing Brad Pitt to perform nearly his entire character, regardless of age. Late in the film, when he strolls through the door at the age of 19 or 20, you'll think he came to the set that day straight from a time machine. And Pitt's performance is also one of the rare bits of the detached nature of Fitzgerald's piece to make it to the screen. That same detachment seeps into much of his portrayal, a sense of loneliness inherent to any man who is never quite what or who people think he is when they first see him. Benjamin is most comfortable, most in his element, when his age and his appearance are roughly matched, and adrift (for a significant portion of the film, literally) when they aren't. Pitt reflects these shifts subtly and skillfully in one of his more nuanced appearances.

And there are times when Fincher breaks through all the forced sentimentality. It seems fairly obvious that he's paying some penance here for making a masterpiece of a film that lost buckets of money. His punishment for making Zodiac such a brilliantly dense film is apparently to make this superficially emotional color-by-numbers, but he simply can't help himself from straying outside the lines sometimes. In one of the film's most inspired sequences, Benjamin is a young man in the appearance of late middle age, working on a tugboat for hire (captained by the noteworthy, and furiously manic Jared Harris) when he encounters the sad-eyed wife of a British spy in a Russian hotel. The somewhat desperate affair they carry out during the hotel's quietest hours is the film's finest sequence, two people finding solace in each other while lost in a confusing world. But there's no sign that their lives become any less dark or confusing when they're forced to part. Tilda Swinton's performance here as the wife is the best of the film.

Unfortunately this interlude, like their affair, must end, and we're returned from Fincher's world to Roth's. And we haven't yet even mentioned the worst offense committed by the writer: a framing device lifted straight out of Titanic, as an elderly Daisy has her own daughter (Julia Ormond) read Benjamin's story to her from his diaries as she offers her own comments on these days long past. These scenes take place as she lies in her hospital death bed, in New Orleans, in the hours leading up to Hurricane Katrina striking the city. It's a hackneyed device designed to ratchet up the sense of tragedy in Benjamin and Daisy's story by associating it with the storm, which is not only ineffective, but comes off as crass and calculated. It's no wonder, then, that Fincher and the poor ghost of F. Scott end up the ones with mud on their faces.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button opens widely on Christmas Day, including the Regal Gallery Place Cinemas and the Georgetown 14.

Inauguration City: Confidence Slightly Fading

Less than a month, folks. That's all the time this city has left before untold masses descend to witness Barack Obama's first day on the job. That said, color this resident slightly concerned about this Examiner report, in which the phrase "we're still working on that" is prominently featured. Also, if there's any way that the words "Inauguration," "perplexed," and "logistics" could be kept out of the same headline, that would be great. Yup, less than a month.

Norton's Got Our Back: In other news, here's why everyone loves Eleanor Holmes Norton -- the woman is always advocating for those of us who will be here after those said untold masses vacate. In addition to her plea to local buildings to provide shelter during the more-than-likely chilly Inauguration, Norton is asking Congress to double the funds currently allocated to the District for the ceremony -- noting that that figure would still pale in comparison to the funding amounts received by Denver and St. Paul for this past year's Democratic and Republican National Conventions. Recent cost estimates for the city are in the $25 million range, but with our new-found budget deficit, the city isn't really in the best shape to be flashing the cash.

City May Close Freeway For Buses: Mayor Fenty is working with officials to decide which roads will need to be closed in order to facilitate tour buses with no where else to park. Early candidates include the Southeast/Southwest Freeway, and the Roosevelt and 14th Street Bridges -- but, really, were any of you actually planning on crossing from Virginia into D.C. via car on Inauguration Day? Alright then, let's just move on.

Elsewhere: Metro's four-year-long upgrade of power substations to run eight-car trains during high tourist periods looks good to go for Inauguration Day...CBS News took a noisy video tour of the under-construction Capitol...D.C. police officer pleads guilty to assault of protester during the 2005 Inauguration.

Photo of the Inaugural parade route by christaki.

Tysons Tunnel Backers Stubbornly Refuse To Concede

Pre-construction work for the new Silver Line adjacent to Route 123 has a visible presence now: vegetation on the northern side of the road will be cleared in order to make way for construction trailers and the relocation of utility lines. For those who pined for a tunnel running the complete span of the new Metrorail line through Tysons Corner, however, it's just another blow to their vision.

So forgive the members of TysonsTunnel.org for masking resignation with desperation, telling the Washington Post that, quote, "they would prefer no rail at all to a set of soaring tracks crisscrossing the area".

Back when the prospects of a Metrorail expansion to Dulles were murkier, the Tunnelers had reason to be optimistic. Their vision of transit-oriented development taking over the pavement kingdom of Tysons was considered, at the least, a potentially legitimate idea. Nowadays, many fewer are paying attention — especially since, as Ryan Avent explains it, the only way an underground proposal would be reconsidered is if the whole project caves and re-starts from scratch.

The Post paints a bleak picture of the most recent Tunneler assembly: scattered individuals armed with inflammatory propaganda, hoping to influence decisions that have for all intents already been made. Every political channel has been closed to the group, from the Federal Transit Administration to the Virginia legislature to the ~~Duller~~ Dulles Corridor Rail Association. And it seems now that the complete tunnel concept is closed, too.

Given all the positives that might stem from rail through Tysons, the urban planner or transit enthusiast who would scrap the good for the perfect would be a strident voice indeed. So it's disheartening to see an organization with the resources that the Tunnelers assembled turn from a player in the political debate to a coalition of the shrill. But until they start working on smart development involving the elevated rails -- something like Chicago's efforts to use El stations as developmental anchors, for example -- these Tunnelers might as well bury their heads in the ground.

Photo by Pixilista.

What Gets Over 1,400 Comments the Monday Before Christmas?

Why, the Huffington Post's splashy front-page photo of President-elect Obama without his shirt on, that's what! This has been a public service announcement for those of you concerned that there's nothing happening on the Internet this holiday week. HuffPo originally picked up the photo from Bauer Griffin, which has been experiencing overloaded servers all day and now isn't loading at all. To be fair, Obama's physique is surprisingly good for a middle-aged man who barely manages to squeeze in 20-minute workouts.

Washington Post and Baltimore Sun to Share Content

It really is a brave new world for daily newspapers. The Washington Post and the Baltimore Sun announced today that they will share a certain amount of content, including both local Maryland news and national, international and feature stories. Post editor Marcus Brauchli and outgoing Sun editor Tim Franklin both put out glowing statements assessing the esteemed worth of the other paper and how this arrangement will be beneficial to their readers, but surely this is largely being done to save money. The announcement indicates that the two papers will not "usually" share exclusive stories, but it's not hard to imagine this agreement could eventually ruffle feathers across competing Metro sections. Then again, the Sun's ever-shrinking newsroom could probably use the help. Full press release is after the jump.

The Washington Post and The Baltimore Sun today announced that effective January 1, 2009 they will share selected stories, photos and news content with each other in order to better serve readers of both newspapers.

The Post and The Sun have agreed to share the newspapers’ day-to-day coverage of certain Maryland news and sports. In addition, The Post and The Sun may draw on each other's national, international and feature stories that are distributed by the LAT-WP News Service, to which both contribute. The exchanges will allow each paper to take advantage of the other’s strengths and expertise in specific subjects around the region and the world.

“We have great respect for The Baltimore Sun’s reporting and believe adding their expertise to our regional coverage will be very beneficial to our readers,” said Marcus Brauchli, Executive Editor, The Washington Post.

"The Washington Post is one of America's most respected news organizations, and adding its award-winning coverage of the federal government and national affairs to The Sun's pages will help make our paper even more relevant and comprehensive for readers," said Timothy A. Franklin, the editor of The Baltimore Sun.

J. Montgomery (Monty) Cook, who was named yesterday to take over Franklin’s position as Editor and Senior Vice President of The Baltimore Sun at the beginning of 2009, said, “Having worked in both newsrooms, I can say that this agreement makes readers of The Baltimore Sun and The Washington Post the real winners. There's never been a more important time to provide greater access to quality reporting and writing to our readers and online audience."

As part of this accord, exclusive stories will not usually be shared, nor will coverage of such competitive subjects as Maryland state government and University of Maryland athletics.

Click Click: University of Maryland Iron Pour

Earlier this month the University of Maryland art department hosted its annual iron pour, in which students, faculty, and guests made molds and pour iron to cast metal sculpture. The sculptors arrived a day early with molds, which they build into the ground, and radiators, which they hack up and melt down for the metal. The acrid smell lingers for days; the iron sculpture, much longers. [Note: This writer teaches a graduate fine art colloquium at the University of Maryland.]

No Teixeira for the Nats

Aw, #%&@! Just when it seemed like the Lerners were going to spend some long term money for a great player by signing slugger Mark Teixeira, the Yankees swept in and signed him for $180 million over 8 years. Thanks a lot, agent Scott Boras.

The Nationals, who scored the third-fewest runs and homers in the Majors last season, sorely need a big bat, and first base would have been an ideal spot — Dmitri Young and Nick Johnson are both frequently injured, and neither were that amazing when healthy. Sure, Young won Comeback Player of the Year in 2007, but Johnson was basically a bust, missing all of the 2007 season and 130 games of the 2008 season. He's so fragile, they should call him the Faberge Egg. Teixeira, who was born in Annapolis and grew up in Severna Park, hit more than double the homers of the leading Nat last year (33 versus 14 for Lastings Milledge).

And it's not that the Nats didn't try to get Teixeira. After offering $160 million for 8 years, they supposedly upped their offer to about $180 million for 8. But alas, the deep pockets of the Yankees, who have committed more than $400 million in contracts in the last month, won out.

The Nationals have experimented with top players before, like when they had Alfonso Soriano for one year, but the long deal offered the 28-year-old Teixeira would have added to a decent young core of players, with Ryan Zimmerman, Lastings Milledge, and Elijah Dukes. Teixeira probably wouldn't have brought the Nats to the World Series, but hey, they might have broken .500. Maybe next year.

Latke Mania with Good Stuff Eatery's Spike Mendelsohn

Former Top Chef contestant Spike Mendelsohn packed the Sixth & I Historic Synagogue on Sunday, the first night of Hanukkah, for a lesson in latkes. At Latke Mania, the reality TV personality turned Good Stuff Eatery burger slinger earned laughs lighting a menorah with a butane torch, struggling through candle lighting prayers he said he stayed up all night learning, and bantering with his sous chef for the evening—his mom.

It was clear to see where Spike’s outsized personality comes from. Spike’s mother Catherine largely stole the show from her son. The two play off each other like a pair of pros who’ve honed their stage act after weeks on tour. Spike can’t even outshine his mom with his headgear. While he is rarely seen in public without his branding signature—a hat on his head—his mom was resplendent with ruby red hair.

Over the course of an hour filled with five recipes to teach, the two argued over stove temperature. To stew her “Original Yummy Applesauce,” mom said use a medium heat, then turn it to low. Spike said start low, then go high, but that prompted “the look” from mom. Both agreed the kitchen may not be big enough for the both of them. Either way, don’t forget to use fresh ground cinnamon and nutmeg. And a tablespoon of red Jello powder!?

Things mom and son do agree on? Red bliss potatoes work better for latkes than Yukon golds. Neither likes to measure too precisely (her serving spoon stands in for a tablespoon of yogurt while his fistful of salt stands in for a teaspoon). Both are eager matchmakers for Spike’s sister, Jill, with the hatted one asking, “how many single Jewish men in the house today.” He got several replies.

Photos by Bruce Guthrie
Spike figures that he could come up with about 100 latke deviations, and spoke off-stage about Jewish fusion cooking, his upbringing, D.C., and future plans before the show. His standard latke recipe is fairly straightforward. The only deviations you need to know are to throw in some sour cream and bread crumbs and wear a fedora while cooking. Most interesting were Spike’s Sweet Potato Latkes and Catherine’s Greek Zucchini & Feta interpretation of the Hanukkah delicacy.

Sweet Potato Latkes (2 Dozen)
4 lg. peeled & grated sweet potatoes
4 finely sliced scallions
4 eggs
1 cup flour
¾ tsp. ground pepper
1 ½ tsp. coarse sea salt
Vegetable oil for frying

In a large bowl, whisk eggs & flour. Add salt and pepper and mix with scallions and sweet potatoes. Heat oil over med-high heat in a nonstick frying pan. Drop 1 tbsp. of latke mixture into pan and flatten with back of spoon. Turn over and remove when nicely browned. Drain on paper towels, then place in oven set at warm temperature until served.

Serve with sour cream, spiked with freshly grated ginger and nutmeg to taste.

Zucchini & Feta Latkes (2 Dozen)
4 Zucchini, grated and well strained (should equal 2 cups after straining)
1 medium diced onion
3 tbsp chives, thinly sliced
3 tbsp fresh mint, chopped
3 tbsp fresh parsley, chopped
2 eggs, slightly beaten
1 cup breadcrumbs
½ cup feta, crumbled
Salt & pepper to taste
Flour for dredging
Vegetable oil for frying

Grate zucchini, put in mesh strainer, salt, and let stand for 2 hours. Put into tea towel or cheesecloth and squeeze all the water out of zucchini. Sauté onion in olive oil & place all ingredients in bowl. Add salt & pepper to taste. If too loose, add breadcrumbs. Heat vegetable oil over med-high heat, ½ inch deep in a non stick pan. Form 1 heaping tbsp of mixture into a latke and dredge in flour. Fry on both sides. Drain latkes on paper towels and place on cookie sheet in a 350 degree oven for 10 minutes.

Serve warm or at room temperature with zesty tzatziki sauce.

Zesty Tzatziki Sauce
1 cup Greek yogurt
1 cup sour cream
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 tbsp white vinegar
2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 minced garlic cloves
White pepper (to taste)
Kosher salt (to taste)

Mix all ingredients well and refrigerate for one hour or more.

Hypothermia Hotline Reminder

Given the frigid temperature we're at currently and a forecast for overnight lows in the teens (and even single digits in the north and west of D.C.), it's a good time to remind you to keep an eye out for anyone trying to brave the cold and sleep outside tonight. The D.C. government's Hypothermia Watch Partner Program maintains a shelter hotline, 1-800-535-7252, that residents may call to request that homeless individuals be picked up by a van and transported to a local shelter. Preventing hypothermia deaths is serious business, so keep an eye out for anyone who may need help finding shelter tonight.

Wayna Gets A Grammy Nod

First off, DCist was happy when Grammy nominations were announced earlier this month and D.C.-area artists and producers were involved in six projects that will be up for recognition at the Recording Academy's February 8, 2009 ceremony. But when we heard that one of our May Three Stars artists, Wayna, was among those acknowledged in the "Best Urban/Alternative Performance" category for her performance on "Loving You (Music)," which also features D.C. native Kokayi, we were ecstatic.

Just think of it as the "DCist Bump."

Since the last time we spoke to her, Wayna has been touring constantly to promote her album, Higher Ground, which includes the nominated song. The nominee took a few moments to answer some questions about her new found recognition and talk about what the future might hold for her.

Congratulations on the nomination. What was your initial reaction to the news and what does this acknowledgment mean to you?

Thank you. I was overjoyed, and just so grateful that we were recognized among so many amazing artists. I see this acknowledgment as a real affirmation of the path I'm on and a sign to keep working, growing, and believing.
Since we aren't familiar with the process, how did you get nominated?

I submitted my new album, Higher Ground, for consideration. A Grammy committee reviews all the submissions and ensures that a certain criteria is met. Then a master list of all those who pass the first round is sent to members of the Recording Academy who vote for the nominees. We were blessed to have made it past the first round of submissions in nearly every category we were in consideration, but the real feat was garnering the actual nomination.

Three of the four people you're up against in your category are backed by either the Neptunes (Kenna), Diddy (Janelle Monae), or Jay-Z (Chrisette Michele). We don't want to start anything, but isn't the deck a little bit stacked against you in what's supposed to be an indie artist category?

You've got a point! But the odds were against me even before reaching this stage. If I looked at this process or even this business through the eyes of what's logical or what's the safest bet, I wouldn't have dared to compete. In fact, I probably wouldn't even be an artist. I choose instead to believe in God's ability to make anything happen and in His purpose for my life. So, yeah, the competition is fierce, but I got a mogul behind me too, so I'm not worried.

What have you been up to since we last spoke to you in May?

I shot my first video, for a song titled "My Love", and I completed a six-week in-store tour throughout the United States where I was performing and selling the single. We were on Billboard for six consecutive weeks, peaking at #2. I've been playing around the country with my band and overseas in London and Turks and Caicos. I just got back from Ethiopia where I participated in an incredible musical festival in Arba Minch for indigenous peoples. It was amazing, and I'll be blogging about it soon.

With this added accolade, what's going to be your career trajectory?

What I know for sure is that this recognition has inspired me to work three times as hard, to be even more bold in terms of what I shoot for, and to have an added sense of confidence in my work and vision. So that's what's in my hands. The rest is up to you all.

To learn more about Wayna and her music, visit her MySpace or web sites.

Three Stars: Edie Sedgwick

by DCist contributor Dave Weigel

A good rock show does not induce you to cross your arms or check your smartphone. A good rock show inspires you to dance uncontrollably, to ask — out loud or in your head — what the hell you just saw. Edie Sedgwick gives good rock show.

For nine years Justin Moyer has occasionally put aside his work in minimalist, brittle bands like El Guapo and Antelope to write and perform as Edie, the resurrected spirit of the Warhol scenester. Moyer splashes on eyeshade, glitter, a blonde wig and a silver-spangled skirt, and sings about celebrities over four-minute chunks of insistent bass-and-drum looped pop songs. The songs get their titles from movies (“Red Dawn”) or celebrities (“Molly Ringwald”), but the lyrics usually focus on a freak event or scandal. “In a dream today, I shed 50 lbs. of baby fat,” sings Edie in “Mary-Kate Olsen.” In “Anthony Perkins” (which is played live in front of a looped video of the cross-dressing Norman Bates running with a knife), Edie discourses on homosexuality and AIDS: “Just give me a little bit of fraternity, especially when accompanied by sodomy.”

Is this all a stunt? Well, yeah. That’s the point. Moyer is an in-on-the-joke journalist and small label head who named one of his bands El Guapo after the villain in The Three Amigos. “I remember a time,” writes Justin Moyer in his decade-old manifesto, “when a [monument] could be made that seemed to stop short of hegemonic history-making. A record — or rather, a recording's site — became a transparent mirror of the past and a gateway to the future... an objective moment subjectively presented and subjectively interpreted... a fusion of meaning and its dissolution.”Got that? Moyer is seriously unserious, smart and absolutely determined to have dumb fun. He doesn’t write bold statements about “celebrity culture”—he captures what he likes about celebrities, with all of the mythology, scandal and skewed reality. And he does it over rapid beats and springy bass lines that you can dance to. Edie is a D.C. fixture, and a Three Star assessment and interview have been long overdue.

See her next: New Years Eve at the Fascinating Flying Circus Loft Party, or January 7 at the Black Cat backstage.

Visit Edie online: on MySpace or at her site, www.ediesedgwick.biz

Buy her albums: From Dischord

Questions for Edie Sedgwick

How did Edie Sedgwick get started?

It started in 1999, actually, and recording for the album started in April 2000. It was — actually, it was April 16, 2000, because the day we were recording was the day of the A-16 protest of the World Bank. And that was ironic. Edie was supposed to be this big statement against politics. It wasn’t supposed to take any position or side. It was a commentary on vapid American culture. At the time I was publishing these tracts about how postmodernity was going to take over world, and how we had to move into a post-political arena to express ideas about art. I did that for a while; my drummer, for a while, kind of went insane.

This is when Edie stopped being a band and started being your solo project?

I started using a computer for the music, programming loops and electronic beats, in the summer of — when was electro-clash big? When it was going to be the future of everything? The summer of 2003? I guess I was wrong about that. I would go on tour with an iPod loaded with all the beats and do the songs live. The problem with electro-clash was that it’s so fucking boring. There’s nothing to see. How do you make it interesting? Do it in drag! So I made these videos for the songs — you can see some of them online — and it became a comedy act. But then I realized, goddamn it, I don’t want to be like Weird Al in a dress. So I got instruments again. Then I was like, goddamn it, I need a band. Now there’s a band and I’m 31, bald, and find it interesting to wear a dress.

You’ve changed that look recently, from a black wig to a blonde wig/goatee ensemble.

But I’ve been wearing the same dress and pantyhose since I first started wearing women’s clothing. It might literally be the same pair of pantyhose. You don’t want to know how old they are. When I started I didn’t know what women’s clothing meant — I thought I’d get any old wig and make it work. Then I realized I didn’t look like Edie, and I should look like her more. I went on Wikipedia and got photos of her, and copied that.

That reminds me — on your blog you joke about using Wikipedia and Google to bolster your open letters to celebrities.

When I’m researching a song idea, I’m writing stuff based on rumor as much as fact. That’s why Wikipedia so cool, because you’ll find unsubstantiated rumors written by strange people, and legends are more interesting than actuality as a basis for what I’m doing. Legend matters to me more than reality.

I’m thinking of the lyrics for “Rob Lowe” — “Me and Judd Nelson in a blowjob race/and I preserved the moneyshot on tape.”

That song is about Rob Lowe as a kind of eros figure in art and in media. It’s based on a rumor of a sex tape that showed him with another man and a woman. A lot of my lyrics are inspired in that way — oh, what if Rob Lowe wasn’t just a guy on The West Wing? What if he was polyamorous star who services all genders? If I dig deep I’ll probably find that it’s not true.

Where else do you go for ideas?

I watch a lot of movies. I’ll see a movie and something will seem resonant to me. It’s not the same thing other people will find resonant. And I’ll use it as fodder for lyrics that may not even refer to the subject. The Dadaists free-write, the beats take drugs, I see films. It’s a compositional tool for me. But it’s not like I go to more movies to do more research. I’m an avid consumer of media in all forms: YouTube, dageuerotypes. Polaroids. If it’s made for your eyes, I’ll look at it. I don’t think our culture is any less shallow or informed by celebrity than at any point since the arrival of TV. It’s just that now we have different ways of delivering it.

Do you get into your Edie persona to write these songs? Does it take a particular state of mind?

Part of the problem with my other bands was that the method I used for this project took over. I stopped being able to write songs in any other way, which is pretty bad. I should remember how to do that! My band Antelope is pretty austere. The guys don’t want to hear my song about Courtney Love. Yes, it’s definitely led to an aesthetics problem.

So you usually start with lyrics?

The best songs are lyrics first — the songs you sing on the street. But more often than not I’ll have a drum loop, then I’ll play bass and loop that, and usually that’s enough to get me started.

You’ve cut songs from your previous records out of your live sets. Why is that?

A lot of that was purely technical, purely logistical decision-making. The first record is full of superhuman bass parts. The people I’ve been playing with are more friends than virtuoso Jocko Pastorius types. Do you know much about him?

Hm, no.

An incredible bassist who was killed by some guy in a bar fight. I want to say he was challenging him over who was a better base player. Didn’t he kill him with a bass? Maybe not. We can check Wikipedia. The point is that the bass playing on the first record is super-fast prog stuff and there’s not enough time to do that now. The problem with the 2005 stuff is that it’s all loops, and I don’t want to make a drummer sit and do all of that. I’ve spent time writing all new material to play with the group.

The last time I saw you, you hectored the audience when they clapped for you: “Make me work for it!” What’d you mean?

That’s just banter. I’m always super self-conscious that people aren’t enjoying themselves. Why are they nodding? Are they thinking, “what is this shit?” I try and break down the air of formality that’s separating me from the audience and, maybe, causing that. It’s especially vital in D.C., which is full of serious thinkers thinking seriously about music. And all of them at all ages shows! I only want to play 25 and up shows to drunk people. It’d be easier. I need people to think less, and party more. P period A period R period T period Y period. So I try and inject element of fun into what can be ritualistic and even boring. I’ve seen at least a million bands, maybe 2 million. Maybe I can turn this event, which can be as boring as going to church, into something memorable: “Oh, this weird guy did this weird show, and I hated it.” Hate it, as long as you remember it!

Also, I think that the Native Americans consider applause an insult. I appreciate their culture.

Is this a D.C. thing?

It’s an “all ages” thing. You won’t encounter the serious crowd in a dive bar in Michigan. You will in an all ages art space in southern California. People need to be less informed to have fewer pre-judgments about what they’re seeing. If everyone was a little bit stupider, I could sell 5,000 more copies of my album, if not 10,000 more.

When you’re conceptualizing Edie songs, though, what do they sound like? One-man-band electro-clash, or frenetic live songs with a full band?

You have to understand — the songs are assembled at rhythm, in a room, in a basement, by myself. What sounds good in that environment will sound different in some warehouse space in Florida. Sometimes I’m just trying to get offstage as fast as possible in a bar that smells like puke and everything has to speed up as fast as it humanly can be played. A lot of that energy injected into songs is totally the result of feeling uncomfortable in front of a live audience. Sometimes it’s best to use that energy, and sometimes it’s best to get out as fast as you can. Think of it as nervous chi. If we were not members of a band but yogis meditating in frozen snows, we’d say: our chi is too activated.

Is that “chi” or “qui”?

I believe that “qui” is the original Chinese, and I’m 100% committed to the original Chinese. They can’t be wrong.

Have any celebrities — or more likely, any heads of their international publicity hydras — contacted you about your songs?

None of the subjects of the songs, but I have had peripheral contact with members of the Sedgwick family. My first thought, obviously was “I could be sued! These people have lawyers, they’ll find a way!” But the lawyer I spoke with said the family was aware of the act, and they were supportive of it. A director interviewed me for a short feature that, I think, was going to show up on a DVD of one of her features, but you know how it is with documentaries. They never get released. But I don’t expect to hear from any celebrities — I fly pretty far under the radar.

What are you planning next?

I’m writing some more songs. I’ve got tours planned for spring, a grand tour of Europe, and SXSW. My dance card’s full until June. After that, I want to put out another record. And write a novel. There’s also an option, which I’m exploring, to be the first punk singer in space. If I get enough money to sponsor me — I imagine I’d collect this in a walkathon in July or August — I can buy seat on Russian or, by that point, Chinese space flight.

I’m assuming you’re serious.

I am! I shouldn’t talk about it, because it’s in the formative stages. You can check it out at MannedSpaceFlight.com. On that site, they’re soliciting different types of people — the first graphic designer in space, the first police officer. I know a guy on Capitol Hill who wants to be the first legislator in space. I can be the first punk singer in space.

DCist Videos: Darkest Hour at 9:30 Club

Produced by DCist Contributor Meredith Bragg

DCist palavered with Darkest Hour, those monopolists of shred, before their recent 9:30 Club appearance — and lived to tell the tale. What survives the encounter was captured on film and is presented here as a warning for all good Christian souls. Originally a D.C.–based conspiracy, Darkest Hour has spread its infernal tendrils throughout the realm.

Note that the above video is not safe for human auditory organs. Those who are sensitive to brutal guitar carnage, absolute godlessness, arcane acts of mayhem, the command of rumor and shadow, lv. 12 chaos magicks, the terror of the unknown, poisonous whisperings, or light profanity should click here and never again return to these dark depths.

Photo of the Day: December 23, 2008

With much of the city on hiatus for the holidays, you might as well take advantage of the area's museums this week. Flickr user ameschen gives us this soaring shot of Alexander Calder's Mobile in the National Gallery of Art. Refer to this week's Talk to Me Baby for special talks or lectures going on over the holidays, but remember that the Smithsonian museums will be closed on Dec. 25. EXIF.

First Look: The Gibson

It's a cold, dark night, and I'm looking for a speakeasy that should be next door to Marvin. I'm not quite sure what to do. I spy a set of ringers, with a small label next to one: The Gibson. I press it. A door opens, and the bouncer quickly waves me in. He checks ID with the low light from his cell phone; as he explains, the phone is dimmer, all the better for the incognito theme. He escorts me into the bar, where I grab a seat. The first thing I notice is how amazing the place smells: It smells like Christmas.

The space is a good match with its sister establishments, Marvin and the Eighteenth Street Lounge. Brian Miller, the designer who also worked on Marvin, has made lush appointments with intricately embossed black leather and warm unfinished wood on the bar and cozy booths. A patio will open soon in the back, and the back room sports an absinthe fountain. A chalkboard is updated with the list of drinks to give imbibers a quick view of the menu. The joint is a tribute: not to the Gibson cocktail, but to Elsworth Gibson, a much-missed D.C. native, pianist, and Eighteenth Street Lounge house band resident.

The cocktail menu is arranged by primary liquors: vodka/gin, rum/tequila, whiskey/whisky, brandy/other spirits, and bubbles. Wines are also available for those who are not interested in cocktails.The best way to start off the night is with one of the warm winter drinks — and the whisky skin is probably the best way to do that. It contains Old Famous Grouse Blended Scotch, Demerara sugar, lemon peel, and hot water; the lemon peel is held to a flame so that it warms and releases its oils. The scent of the drink is reminiscent of tea, but then the richness of the whiskey starts to come through in the rising steam and next thing you're enjoying the caramelized hints of the Demerara and lemon.

After the warmup, it's time to get down to business.The reason the joint smells like Christmas is the Salad Days Sour — celery-infused Macchu Pisco, The Bitter Truth celery bitters, and burnt cinnamon. Batches of cinnamon are burned in a skillet, adding a pleasing yet not overwhelming, spicy tinge to the air. Topped with nearly an inch of egg white foam, the drink is garnished with a long, thin peeling of carrot and the burnt cinnamon. With a character like a light carrot cake, this drink is quickly becoming a favorite among customers despite the high-novelty factor.

For those who prefer a little more acidity, there's the Jackelope, which combines Weller Antique 107 Bourbon, American oak-infused maple syrup, lemon juice, and orange juice. The Interwebs agree on a totally different recipe for this drink, but the Gibson's manages to stand on its own. The flavors hint at a Brown Derby, with the bright citrus flavors and slow warmth of bourbon and maple syrup.

Not straying too far from the citrus-y Jackelope, the Brunswick Sour (Appleton Estate white rum, lime juice, and merlot float) takes the traditional pairing of rum with lime and substitutes sugar with a thin layer of carefully poured merlot on top. It's hard to imagine the combination working well together, but the merlot adds a depth that sugar could never add.

For those old-school drinkers who think all the crazy ingredients are for fancypants, there's the Old Fashioned (the old-fashioned way). There is some contention over which liquor to use, but you can't go wrong with the simplicity of Gibson's drink: Rittenhouse Bonded Rye, Fee's aromatic bitters, and lemon.

The absinthe frappe is an off-menu treat for absinthe fans. In this drink, absinthe appears in a slightly less alcoholic yet still pure form. Absinthe, sugar, and water are mixed and shaken with crushed ice until the mixture is obscenely cold. Accordingly, it's served in a metal julep glass so that a thin frost forms on the outside.

The bar observes some rules to maximize the patron's experience. Like the Saloon, there is no standing at the bar, which is a blessing: No one wants to be jostled and spill their precious drink. But unlike the Saloon, you can give your digits to one of the staff who will call you when space opens up, and give you 8 minutes to claim it. (Well within the time it would take you to walk from Marvin, Saint-Ex, Bar Pilar, and even the Saloon.) If you know that the Gibson is where you want to be, you can make a reservation between 6–10 p.m. and secure a table for up to 2 hours (so everyone gets a chance at getting in).

During my visit, someone ordered a vodka and cranberry. It was a little shocking. While there is nothing wrong with ordering that drink — especially since the bartenders at the Gibson are sure to make you the best vodka and cranberry you've ever had — if you're in the mood for that, you ought to go somewhere else. In light of all the interesting drink options, from the traditional to the unique, take advantage of what the Gibson has to offer — not a drink you can order at Chili'sTuesdayGIFriday. If you're not sure what to get, ask. Have an in-depth chat with your bartender about your likes and you're sure to find something to please — or you may discover something new.

The Gibson
2009 14th St. NW
202-232-2156
Metro: U Street-Cardozo
Hours: Weds-Thu and Sun 6pm - 1am, Fri-Sat 6pm - 2am

Photo of the Day: December 26, 2008

Known associates Rudolph and the Abominable Snow Monster of the North gathered yesterday for an All-Star Christmas event -- the two took the time to merrily pose in front of the tree for Flickr user andertho. (The Grinch must not have been invited.) EXIF.

Photo of the Day: December 22, 2008

One of the good parts about cold weather? Between the graying clouds and the quick winds blowing them around, you can catch some really beautiful colors in the sky. For instance: rjs1322 caught this tree on Rhode Island Ave., stretching its limbs high into the cool wintry blue. EXIF.

Metro's Holiday Schedule

For those of you staying in the city all through the holidays, here's how it's going to work on Metro, via today's press release from WMATA:

Wednesday, December 24:
Metrorail, Metrobus and MetroAccess will all operate on a normal weekday schedule.

Thursday, December 25:
Metrorail is on a Sunday schedule, opening at 7 a.m. and closing at midnight. Additionally, all trains will operate with only four cars. All Metrobuses will also be on Sunday schedules, so refer to Sunday timetables. MetroAccess will operate normally, but all subscription trips are canceled.

Wednesday, December 31:
Metrorail will be on a weekday schedule, opening at 5 a.m. and staying open two hours later than normal, closing at 2 a.m. Metrobus and MetroAccess will be on normal weekday schedules.

Thursday, January 1
Just like Christmas Day, Metrorail will operate on a Sunday schedule, opening at 7 a.m. and closing at midnight, and trains will operate with only four cars. Metrobuses will be on Sunday schedules, and MetroAccess subscription trips are canceled.

Photo by voteprime

Out of Frame: The Wrestler

The first shot of Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler is from behind, and throughout the opening, director Darren Aronofsky refuses to show his star from the front. He continues this tease, barely showing the edges of the actor's battered face before finally allowing us the chance to see it in all its wounded glory. Rourke doesn't need makeup to look this permanently damaged these days, and some of the emotional scars in his performance probably run painfully close to reality as well.

His character, Randy "The Ram" Robinson, is a pro wrestler who was once considered one of the best performers in the business. But years of personal difficulties, drug use, and generally being a fuck-up have reduced him to trading on his reputation in relative obscurity. Here I'm still talking about Randy, but could just as easily be talking about Rourke himself. And Randy needs a second chance to shine just as surely as Rourke does. In The Wrestler, he gets it: an opportunity to stage a rematch of one of the most celebrated bouts of his career for buckets of cash. For a guy who just got locked out of his run-down trailer for being behind on the rent, it's the right opportunity, but at the wrong time. Randy has health problems that should have him looking for another line of work in a hurry.

But when you've wrecked your body with steroids and HGH while hitting guys with chairs and pile-driving their heads into the floor for your whole life, what exactly is your next career move? Aronofsky's film looks with an unflinching eye at the plight of people who make their living off their bodies, and what they do next, once there's nothing left to shake out of that moneymaker. For Randy, it's the wrestling ring that has paid the bills; for his friend Cassidy (Marisa Tomei), it's the stripper's pole. Her work exacts a physical toll over the years just as surely as his, and her clients, even more than his, are always clamoring for a younger model. Leering fratboys don't really want a lapdance from a woman old enough to be their mother. Aronofsky strips both of these entertainments of any semblance of glamor or glitter in a dizzying stylistic about-face from the gloss and special-effects sheen of his last outing, The Fountain. The wrestling, in particular, is shown in gory and graphic detail. This isn't the WWE; these aren't televised matches in huge arenas. They're still staged, but that doesn't mean that the blood isn't real. Things that look painful often are. These are guys who slip razor blades into their taped-up wrists to cut their own foreheads at opportune moments, who carefully choreograph how they're going to throw each other through plate glass. Calling wrestling "fake" is accurate to a point, but that doesn't make the injuries any less real. Rourke's matches in the movie aren't with actors and stuntmen; they're with real wrestlers, who give the movie a feeling of reality that prompted "Rowdy" Roddy Piper to burst into tears and embrace Aronofsky at a preview screening. It's just that accurate, and just that heartbreaking.

Everything wrestling has given Randy, it's taken away. His daughter, played with an impressive glower by Evan Rachel Wood, is estranged, just as removed from his reach as Cassidy — who tries hard to see Randy more as client than friend. Randy is a guy who everyone knows and everyone loves, but he's overwhelmed by a crushing loneliness that grabs your heart in a headlock and squeezes until it bursts. His career and his youth are slipping away, his daughter is lost to him, even his music was ruined when metal fell out of favor because of "that pussy Cobain."

Rourke, through all of this, is an amazing presence. Through that now-lumpy face, the pounds of muscle, his eyes and his body still have the mind-blowing skill that had him pegged as the next Brando, the next DeNiro, the next Dean back when his career started, before his own drug- and fuck-up–induced fall. The Wrestler is, make no mistake, high melodrama. He gives a speech at the start of his grand rematch that Rocky Balboa himself might think a little grandiose. He delivers lines to his daughter like, "I'm an old broken down piece of meat and I deserve to be all alone, I just don't want you to hate me." In different hands, the same script (by former Onion Editor-in-Chief Robert D. Siegel) could have been a maudlin mess. But Aronofsky's bare-bones production, treading close to documentary realism with grainy 16mm and wobbly (but never self-indulgent) hand-held shooting, and Rourke's soul-baring performance, make it into something else entirely: a naturalistic and honest tear-jerker, and one of the finest films of the year.

The Wrestler opens Christmas Day at Georgetown and Bethesda Row.

'Skins Week Seventeen Preview: @ 49ers

Now that Jim Zorn has shown he's not the worst coach in America, Redskins fans can focus on the final challenge this season: beating San Francisco (6-9).

We’re Toasting the Defense: It’s no small feat to enter Week 17 in the NFL ranked fourth overall on defense -- ahead of both the Giants and the Titans -- but the 8-7 'Skins have done it this year.

This should make Sunday’s matchup more intriguing, since Mike Martz, architect of The Greatest Show on Turf, is now the 49ers' offensive coordinator. But the 'Skins actually have a decent history facing Martz-coached teams. In fact, they’ve never lost to Martz either as an offensive coordinator or head coach. Martz, of course, spent a brief stint in Washington as quarterbacks coach under Joe Gibbs.

Both the Skins and 49ers are coming off dramatic Week 16 victories — while the Redskins were making a goal line stand to beat the Eagles, Maryland product Shaun Hill churned out 14 points in the fourth quarter to help San Francisco beat St. Louis 17-16. This was right after he was almost benched for poor play in the previous three quarters, so expect him to have a little more confidence Sunday after the San Francisco surge. Or at least don’t count him out before the clock runs out.The Skins secondary will also have to keep their eyes out for Isaac Bruce, who had 148 yards the last time he played Washington. Reports have it that 49ers running back Frank Gore (former teammate of Clinton Portis) won't play Sunday due to an injured ankle. If he does, the Skins should keep an extra pair of eyes open in the backfield (Gore is 22 yards shy of 1,000 yards on the season). If Gore doesn’t play — well, the 49er with the most rushing yards last week was Shaun Hill with 45, a non-issue for a team that held the Eagles to 62 yards rushing last week.

And the Offense Isn’t That Bad, Either: Jason Campbell has improved his passer rating since last year and has thrown five fewer interceptions. So unless he throws five on Sunday, that counts as improvement. Portis is third in the league in rushing. The 49ers defense is much stronger against the run than the pass, but we think a team that ranks 15th against the run shouldn't be a threat to Portis.

Merry Christmas, Washington: Jim Zorn will be back next year.

New Year's Resolutions: Score more than 30 points in one game. Show Chris Cooley how to use a camera.

For the Chips 'n' Dip crowd: (those of you there for the food, the beer, or because your boyfriend gave you no choice) Congratulations, you've made it to the final week of the NFL regular season! Now it's time to start worrying about all those college bowl games.

You're Home Already: So Stay There Edition

Which is the creepier category of Christmas music? Songs in which women proposition Santa Claus for sex or songs in which guys try to use the weather as an excuse to get skeptical women to spend the night? In the answer lay the true meaning of Christmas.

Frederick housing association goes all scrooge, telling homeowners to take down their Christmas lights. Seriously.
The Obamas plan to attend, like, 30 goddamn inaugural balls.
Georgetown is getting a Metro! Oh, wait, kidding, Georgetown is getting Georgetown Metropolitan, the neighborhood's first and only blog. Which is more gauche: public transportation or microblogging?
Looking back best-of shopping woes flights canceled making eggnog twelve drinks twelve snacks twelve candies — whew. You wouldn't know it was a night for family, what with everybody blogging.
Who has the most toys? That's right, baby: Washington, D.C. Next up? The most cake.
It's Christmas Eve in Washington, making it the perfect time to listen to "Christmas Eve in Washington". This is a gem you have given us, Art.

Biker Wins N.H. Ave. Ticket Appeal

The setting of traps by police at the tricky intersection of U Street, 16th Street and New Hampshire Ave. NW in order to catch bicyclists going the wrong way on New Hampshire: it's certainly been a discussion sparker since their initiation earlier this year. But chalk one up for the bikers, via GGW: Sam DuPont, one of the many who have been ticketed in the traps, won his appeal against the fine. His successful tactic? Arguing, as every biker (and frankly, anyone that's ever walked or probably even driven there) knows, that going the "wrong way" on New Hampshire is the safest way to get through if you're on two wheels. The fact that DDOT has all but recognized this fact surely assisted his argument.