July 2002

Lazier Than A Senator

Deep summer in Washington, DC isn't as bad as everyone makes it out to be, though the weather is, in fact, nastier than you've been lead to believe. It's at least 95 degrees all the time. The humidity is approaching that of a rainstorm, though there are no clouds in the sky (that's not to say you can see the sky, because it's just that hazy). Still, this kind of horrible, horrible weather has its definite advantages. That mainly being that the tourists stay the hell home.

See, if there's one thing that a native Washingtonian can't stand, it's tourists. One hundred tourists are far worse than one hundred degrees, any day of the week. Sure, they pump up our economy and give us all a common enemy to focus our rage on together, thus building our sense of unity- but that just can't tilt the balance. There is nothing worse than a tourist (including the ones currently occupying the White House).

Tourists come to our city, crowd our museums, cause traffic problems with incompetent attempts to navigate our streets, look like idiots, talk loudly on the Metro, and generally get in our way. We hate them.

But as late July drips into August, the tourists thin out. Hell, even Congress splits town to return to places like Texas. This is the only time of year that native Washingtonians have to enjoy our own city by ourselves, relatively speaking. There aren't even any three day weekends to give tourists an excuse to come stink up our town.

That being said, it still must be noted that there are still tourists in town in August. I suppose that's the drawback of having free museums and the such. But in August the tourists don't stay outside for long. They pretty much stick to the Air & Space Museum, which is fine by me. I haven't bothered to go to the most visited museum in the world in well over five years. It's a tourist trap in the truest sense of the phrase. Those suckers can stay inside looking at the same dumb exhibits over and over again while I endure the heat and enjoy what is, without a doubt, one of the best cities on the continent.

For an example of what can be done without choking hordes of tourists around, I will briefly run down the events of a recent July Saturday in DC.

After it was decided that our day would be spent doing nothing but Kickin' Back in it's purest form, my co-conspirator and I got up and left the apartment with a vague plan at best (this is, after all, how one goes about Kickin' Back). It was determined that we needed to first go out to Silver Spring (just outside the city) to get some donuts and walk a dog. Following this chore, we rode the entire S4 bus line just because. Mind you, this only cost the initial $1.10 because bus transfers rock. So after departing the air conditioned comfort of our MetroBus we were downtown, practically on the Mall.

It was early afternoon and unacceptably hot. However, my henchman knew something that tourists don't. The Sculpture Garden, next to the National Gallery, has a massive and very special fountain. While this fountain is not in the shade, you are allowed to put your feet in it. Very satisfying. In the shade there were picnickers. Very few tourists seem to even know about the Sculpture Garden and it's secret treasure, though it is right on the Mall.

After our feet were sufficiently soaked, then dried again by the overbearing July sun, it was decided that a trip to an air conditioned facility might be a good idea. With this in mind we took in a photo exhibit at the Hirschorn Gallery, which is all modern art. We elected to just see this one exhibit and then leave. This is a common practice of mine. Often I will go to the National Gallery, look at one painting, then leave after using the bathroom. This is the advantage of living in a city with free world class museums.

Following our brief foray into photography and air conditioning, we walked aimlessly around the Mall while trying to figure out what to do next. This one of the few activities that locals truly have in common with tourists.

Our meanderings lead us to the Natural History Museum. This was a mistake, as all the tourists that weren't at Air & Space seemed to be there. One can never tell if its tourists from our own suburbs or the suburbs of some other dumb city, but in either case they should consider moving to someplace that doesn't suck if they want to see the Hope Diamond.

Following this debacle, there was a brief contemplation on the nature of hunger, then a Metro ride just long enough for a brief nap to get some Thai food and ice cream.

After taking care of that necessity, it was clearly time to wander around Potomac Park, as it was approaching dusk. In Potomac Park you will find mostly locals, except at the obvious touristy loci provided by the monuments. Along the banks of the too-often-pungent Potomac River you find people with full picnic spreads drinking wine and ignoring the mosquitoes. No tourists here. Walking back towards the fringes of the park and towards the monuments your peace becomes shattered by chattering tourists trivializing Lincoln, FDR, and Jefferson because there seems to be a severe reverence deficiency in this country of ours.

Then, as it was getting late, we decided to go home and have a large quantity of refreshing beverages.

This is the typical kind of Saturday that can be had for 20 bucks, including transportation, in Washington. And with few tourists around, it's just that much more enjoyable. Other frequent Saturday afternoon haunts of mine include Eastern Market for produce (and free samples) and lunch, the financial trap of record shopping, milling about in Rock Creek Park, or what have you. Washington is the ultimate city in which to Kick Back for cheap (in fact, free movies are shown on the Mall picnic-style every Monday night all summer long). It's a near perfect mix of cosmopolitan excitement while not being the kind of place that's cheap because it sucks (see Mississippi).

Finally, in consultation with Lucky (staff writer and fellow bar frequenter), I must also note that our horrible horrible heat tends to keep morons from the suburbs the hell out of our precious bars on Friday and Saturday nights. And if you're like me (you hate to stand at all costs), you realize the beautiful gift this is.