Sunday, May 13, 2012


Just some of the moms I know. Happy Mothers Day!

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Under the River and Through the Woods

When I first moved to Washington DC fifteen years ago, my brother gave me a couple of pieces of advice for navigating the city - stay away from Dupont Circle (where the homosexuals tend to congregate) and don't go to Southeast DC (so I don't get shot). My brothers have a long history of looking out for my best interests, with notable exceptions including, but not limited to, crashing a bike with me riding on the handlebar, teaching me the art of shotgunning a beer, and loud baggy pants fashion sense. What are big brothers for if not for teaching you how to use a stun gun on your friends? Well I am happy to report, taking all advice with the appropriate amounts of salt, that all these years later I am still relatively unscathed by my experience in our nation's capital. Yes, gay men have flirted with me (although the gay women mostly seem oblivious to my charm), and I can recount several a tale of urban crime and ne'er-do-wells, but I do believe this city life has made me the stronger for what I have encountered... Even the date with the undercover lesbian.

Where was I going with this? Ah, yes, unscathed. It has been several years now since first I explored the neighborhood named for the famous rear admiral (no, really) Dupont, but last Sunday, I thought it was high time I cross the Anacostia River and explore the curious Ward 8, most specifically to see for myself what kind of place deems it beneficial to be successively represented by Marion Barry. The good news is, I didn't get shot; in fact no weapons appeared to be brandished nor any newsworthy atrocity occur. The few people I talked with were fairly friendly; I think I may have even been invited to a barbecue! My plan was to get off the Metro at the Congress Heights station and set out on a photographic journey. Truth be told, my few hours took me to the border of Maryland and back to Anacostia, but I will need to spend some more time there to make a competent discovery of any depth. My first impression, though, is that it is a hidden part of the city for a reason, and it seems to lack the innovative and expressive spirit of what makes our country great. It's more akin to a reservation where a people do not thrive, but rather continue to exist.

To be continued...

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Greatest Fan of Your Life

Every once in a while you look around and you realize that God has placed angels amongst you. The trained eye will see beauty every step of the way in every person met, yet all of us know of certain people in our lives who are truly a blessing - truly a gift to the world.

Joan Doty was many things, I'm sure, but I will always remember her as a teacher, a mother, and a fan. She was heartily involved in her students' education, her family, and the lives of those who knew her well. Joan had a glow about her that touched so many lives. I mention her as a fan for a couple of reasons. Not only was she dedicated in genuine interest to the lives of those around her, but her love was robust for us all in sport. Few parents managed to appear in the bleachers at so many games as far away as Barstow or as inconsequential as an alumni soccer game. Sufficed to say, she was always with us, and undoubtedly, she always shall be.

Perhaps one of Joan's greatest gifts to the world was her ability to provide for her family. It would appear that opening her heart and her home to so many was her strategy to create a life so very complete for those left under her care. She was a fan of us all, and for this we lovingly applaud her, and we will miss her. Fortunately, we can always look to the sidelines, and she will be there with that wonderful smile.

Thank you, Joan. We all won. Rest, now, in peace.