
The rains were supposed to come in late in the day, and I had some business over at JBAB- pronounced “Jay-Baab”- which is what used to be Bolling Air Force Base and Naval Station Anacostia. It is much more efficient: the DoD harvested savings of literally nine syllables in saying where you don’t want to go.
I didn’t want to go yesterday, either. I beat the rains that pounded in last night. Jay-Baab creeps me out and I am finding the new traffic patterns on the shovel-ready bridge to be a little precarious, even in the Bluesmobile. The old police cruiser is really the way I prefer to travel in the District. If one of the several erratic motorists does something really bad, I don’t really care what happens to the car.
Well, I do, actually, but it is nice to have the option of a disposa-car, just in case.
I had written myself into a corner early. I have been having some of that deer-in-the-headlights feeling lately, flight-or-fight, like the deer, uncertain which way to dart but fairly confident which ever way was going to involve someone’s oncoming grill.
I think the situation is becoming clearer, but the cascade of events of late has me agitated. I think you know me well enough to discern that I have passionate views on many of them- I dawdled through conversations about them with correspondents in the West, and Turkey and right here in the Imperial City.
There are so many of them, in fact, that each would merit a column in itself. What is Mr. Erdogan really up to with that referendum? What’s up with the missing student at the University of Virginia and the man accused of kidnapping her? Does the way the Islamists execute their hostages have significance beyond the theater of it? What on earth happened in New York this week? And why is New York Times columnist Gail Collins so irritating in her description of the drain problem in Miami?
I am not going to bore you with commentary. Too incendiary, or maybe I am just chicken this morning.
I prefer writing about chicken, which is a spicy enough topic. I have a delightful kitchen-tested review of a brand new recipe from Washington’s favorite new restaurant, Rose’s Luxury. The place is located on Barracks Row, over by 8th and I Streets, and their eclectic menu is described as superb, a collision of new and comfort.
I admire anyone who can make a go in the food and beverage business and this place, and the fortunate proximity to Arlington. I am going to make the effort to do the two-hour wait for a table one of these days, maybe when my correspondent from Baja California is in town.
Stand by for the recipe- Marlow says it is superb.
I am going to let it all aside this morning. There is so much to say, and I think, given the times, that it is entirely appropriate right now to just keep my mouth shut.
Copyright 2014 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
Twitter: @jayare303