humdinger

Regardless of your political leanings, I think everyone should go out and canvass for a political campaign. The Eleven spend a beautiful Saturday heading into D.C. to pick up some G’town law students and then driving down to South Fairfax county to canvass for Obama. What the process gives you, and what you’ll realize if you take up the challenge, is a chance to interact and be a part of a process that’s horribly broken and left on the side of the road. We were together for our walk sheet, knocked on doors, and had some great conversations with undecided voters, Obama supporters, and homes with a bit of both McCain and Obama present. We were nervous at the outset as we sorted our goods and got parked to begin: how would we present ourselves? What stories did we have that might convince people to just talk? What would they think of a couple of newly-minted political campaigners? You know what? For the most part, whether they agree or not with your candidate, most are perfectly happy to stand on the porch and talk about what’s important to them – and just as often, what’s important to us. It’s a wholly different view of the process than the yelling and screaming you hear across the rest of the landscape. You know what? There are a lot of people out there that are struggling to decide who they’ll vote for in November. There’re a ton of issues pulling everyone this way and that. There are, hopefully, a few dozen that are happy that someone who cared came knocking on their door on a September Saturday to talk honestly about where we are and where we’re headed. I found that much like every other volunteer activity I’ve added to my life over the last two years, people care that you’re there. Obama has registered over 250,000 new voters in Virginia in 2008. If nothing else, getting everyone to the polls is something no one can argue against.

I headed to the 9:30 Club last night to catch another Old Crow Medicine Show concert. I happened to be first in line and meandered to the best seat in American music: upper level, dead center, with my can on one of the club’s eight or so barstools. I love the Crows but their 2006 show at the 9:30 was very disappointing; both for the sound of the performance and the shitty crowd. Last night was a whole new ballgame – they were on fire and the crowd was so much stronger. They ran about two hours with a 15-minute break and screamed through most of the new CD (out next week, but in my hot, little hands) and a good bit of the back catalog. What they’ve become is a band with enough material to not have to rely on playing everything from every album – they can pick-and-choose what’s to come. In fact, they didn’t play at least six songs that I was expecting to hear yet I didn’t miss any of them. With the exception of a few slow moments, the show was stunning. As I was standing outside before the show, Ketch (singer, writer, harmonica, fiddle player, banjo player, guitar player) was walking to the tour bus with his mother, who was visiting D.C. to see her son and last night’s show. I don’t know if his performance was that much more inspired but he was fantastic. If only I could do any of that stuff. Considering the dip that’d taken after the last outing, last night’s gig put them right back up at the peak of live bands.

Apparently there’s a cat coming to live with us tomorrow morning. I’ll see if I can get to the farmers’ market on a pass before the feline invades my life.



t

easier words

I thought about it earlier but forgot to include it once I got on my little rant.

Saturday was my first day working as a volunteer at the information desk in the Library of Congress (more badges, better access). Since we’re at the height of tourist season there’s little rest during the seven-hour shift: directing folks, handing out tidbits of knowledge, and passing on my life’s wisdom. Here are my findings:

1. People want to see the books. They want to go into the main reading room (see picture above) and yank some literature off the shelf. Unfortunately, the rooms are for researchers and “readers” only. You can’t very well have loads of tour groups wandering the aisles while Vaclav Havel is doing research.

2. The most asked questions, not necessarily in order: Where are the books? Where is the restroom? Where is a drinking fountain?

3. Any family that comes through security between 3:30pm and 5pm, when we close, generally looks as if they’ve nearly completely some type of vacation marathon. It’s close to 95 degrees outside, they’ve been beaten by the Sun, they’ve walked five miles, visited four Smithsonian museums, had a bad lunch near the Mall (there’s little choice), and they’re trying desperately to finish the Library of Congress and Supreme Court before going back to the hotel and dying.

4. I had at least a half-dozen patrons ask some form of this question, “My kids want to see the room from National Treasure, where is it?” A few asked to see the Declaration of Independence. Unfortunately, I had to send them a mile back down the Mall to the National Archives to see if Nicholas Cage has put it back.

5. I made dinner reservations for at least two couples who had restaurants in mind but didn’t actually know where they were or if they’d be crowded. I’m nice like that.

What’s most amazing, to be serious for a minute, is just how nice the visitors can be. I met some very interesting people who had specific pieces in mind and were so happy to get a chance to actually see them – they come back and thanked me. I had any number of people coming in looking for a rare book that had been published by an ancestor – they managed to get cards for the reading room and were able to review the books in peace. I had people from just about every country on Earth wander in for the tours or a quick look at the Great Hall. I was also working with a woman who’s lived in D.C. since 1942, so during lulls in traffic I learned a ton about how the District has changed in 65 years.

I’m thinking about training to be a Docent at the Library this fall. It’s a two-day a week, 14-week training course that gives you the deep, deep history of the Library and then allows you to be a public, private, or Congressional tour guide.

On a sad note, mighty Jefferson rat passed on yesterday after an nearly week-long tussle with ill health. He did his best but it wasn’t anything he was ever going to overcome.