James, the angry American

I went to a bar in D.C. Yes, D.C.! Yes, at night. (OK, it was a Wednesday night. But still.)

Actually, it was Wonderland Ballroom/Bar/Grille in Columbia Heights. And it was good. I found parking there on the street (maybe because it was Wednesday), so we didn't have cut the night short to catch the last train home. It wasn't crowded (there were only a few other people there); nobody was standing at the door to make sure I was wearing something trendy. Old Seattle SuperSonics jacket good enough. They let me in and served me some Stella. I watched a musician friend of mine perform some songs. It was... all good. Strange.

OK, there is one thing you should know. And you know how much I hate personal attacks, unless they're against libertarian men pretending to be libertarian women, or the people in those Sunday Source TV spots. But there was this one dude there who is apparently also a musician, and we got to talking. He gave us a free CD of his band, which was nice. And then started talking about his politics. His very, very conservative politics. He kept talking and talking about them.

Now, I have no problem making friends with people whose political beliefs are different from mine, but seriously... shut up already. We can maybe talk about something else. I really don't need to get into an argument about how great the "Reagan revolution" was or why there should be a flat tax or why you think abortion is murder. I did not come to a divey bar in the middle of blue territory for that. That's what I'm trying to get away from. (Of course, he lives in Ballston... so apparently the badness follows me around.)

Plus, let's face it: conservatives make shitty musicians. Sorry, but it's obvious. I have all these memories from my childhood of flipping past a Kennedy Center special on TV and watching George H.W. and Barbara Bush futilely trying to clap along with whatever African rhythmic performance they were watching. And take a look at this list of artists: Ted Nugent. Toby Keith. John Ashcroft. Not good times. Bad times.

So anyway, not to hurt your feelings, conservative-musician-dude-who's-name-I-can't-remember, but my wife threw away your CD without listening to it, simply because you were so annoying.

(That's why I love her. We're nothing if not petty.)

Oh, one more thing. It's about Thomas Circle. Could somebody maybe put up a street sign on any of the roads that branch off of it? Really, just one would work. Just so that I have some fucking idea where I'm going. Thanks, that'd be great.