Thing 158: Ft. Reno

It turns out, I am really terrible at blogging in August. I've never been particularly good at it, looking back over the last two years, but it seems that this August has been especially hard for me to get it together. Blame it on my entirely new life, or just blame it on humidity and general laziness, but it is time to stop thinking about blogging and start putting fingers to keyboard. Let's go!

It with great embarrassment that I report to you that I went to my first Ft. Reno outdoor concert three weeks ago and have been sitting on the experience since then. So selfish of me! Because it was a really fun experience!!

How have I avoided Ft. Reno until now, you wonder? Well, I'm not really sure. Part of it is that I thought it was really hard to get to. And part of it was that I was pretty sure my jeans weren't skinny enough. But I'm happy to report back that Ft. Reno is but two blocks from the Tenley Town metro, and also that, while heavy on the hipster crowd, its actually just a really welcoming, happy, communal neighborhood event.

I attended Ft. Reno's final concert of the summer back on July 30th, when Grendel Babies, Casper Bangs, and Title Tracks performed. The bands were...fine. I don't know, the music wasn't really my taste (I lean more towards Mos Def), but people seemed to really enjoy it. Title Tracks in particular seemed to have a devoted following who made an impromptu dance floor in front of the stage during the set. And even if the music wasn't really my cup of tea, I can certainly appreciate any venue that focuses on local talent and lets local bands to their thing.

But for me, the fun was really in the atmosphere -- the setting and the people and the night sky and the company. Just as Screen on the Green has almost nothing to do with what movie is being shown and everything to do with sweating on the mall and drinking boxed wine, atmosphere is everything at Ft. Reno. This is clearly a place for neighbors to come out of their stuffy homes on a summer night and mingle in the open air. Families brought their children and babies, couples brought their dogs, everyone sat out on blankets and shared food and watched the sky darken behind the Fort's turrets. I was invited by some Fort Reno regulars, and we enjoyed the night air while sharing olives and cheese and off-brand Oreos.

I will definitely go back (I am simply a sucker for a picnic, though this is no secret), and am looking forward to adding the annual concert series into my summer rotation next year.

One year ago: Nellie's Sports Bar and Trivia Night

Thing 115, Revisited: Hillwood Estate Movies and Picnic

The Hillwood Estate One in Ten old movie evening resumed again last Friday, this time showing one of my absolute favorites: How To Marry A Millionaire. Everything I remembered about Hillwood outdoor movies was true: lush lawn, gorgeous grounds, fabulous movies and elaborate picnic setups.

This year, Kate and I brought our A games, after setting up a pretty pathetic picnic last year. This year, after some pretty intensive planning, I think we did pretty well:

A crisp white cloth, assorted crudites and dips, homemade pita, homemade shortbread cookies, sparkling wine. Even candles, china and real silverware. The judges were impressed. Wouldn't you be?

But not only was our spread a looker, but so were we! We were inspired by Marilyn and Lauren and their fabulous outfits and tried to snag our own millionaires.

And for our trouble, we got an honorable mention! Our prize was a goody bag with some Hillwood-themed items, and two free passes to tour the house and grounds! So we will be back to spend some quality time immersed in Marjorie Merriweather Post's impeccable taste and largesse.

Thanks Hillwood!

(If you're hot to buy some of those silver interlocking containers, they're called tiffins and you can find them here.)

One year ago: Squash blossoms stuffed with goat cheese in tomato sauce from Oyamel.

Thing 150: Politics and Prose

"We're going to have a reading tonight," Colson Whitehead told those assembled. "It will be fun, edifying, and very, very post-black." He gives the final two words grave emphasis. The audience laughs knowingly, because they all read the New York Times Review of Books religiously.

Welcome to nerd paradise. I am right at home.

Politics and Prose is indeed a paradise for bookworms and intellectuals, an oasis in the dry landscape of chain bookstores. This is among the last of the feisty breed known as the independent bookstore, and one of the reasons they stay relevant is by hosting really excellent authors of both fiction and non, on a regular basis. They also have a great, great selection of books (hard for me to not buy everything I lay my eyes on) and a cafe downstairs. I can't speak personally for the coffee or food, but the coffee in the audience smelled amazing, which is a good sign.

I was excited to be there to see Colson Whitehead, and author I much admire, in particular for his first book, The Intuitionist, which I still think about when I'm in an elevator. In a rather slim novel he spun an alternate reality in which elevator inspectors formed a brotherhood, an exclusive clique, and the two competing schools of inspection were at constant odds. It sounds convoluted, even silly, but the end product was a rich and beautiful metaphor for race in America.

Now he read from Sag Harbor, his newest book, and what he calls "autobiographical" (not quite an autobiography, and certainly not a memoir. As he told us in answer to a question I asked "It would be so easy to write a proposal if I was in a plane crash and had to eat the other people I was stranded with...So, when something real happens in my life, I'll write a memoir, but until then, I have to rely on other things."). Dressed in skinny, skinny hipster jeans, a vest and a tie, and long, thin dreadlocks, Whitehead kept us rapt and laughing, alternating between his strong, poetic prose, and his side comments that kept us laughing, especially his "VISUAL AID."

If you caught his piece of short fiction in the New Yorker, that was a chapter excerpted from the book. It's about a group of black teenage boys, who vacation on Long Island during the summer, spending the weeks by themselves while their parents are working in the city. They get into various shenanigans. That's about it. "You may have heard in some reviews," he told us, impishly, "there's not a lot of plot. Not a lot happens. Just like in Ulysses, by James Joyce. Except my book is shorter, so there's that."

He read two sections from the book, one about the glory and progress of frozen foods, the other about the haircuts his main character received from his father. What I was most struck by, which had escaped me when I read The Intuitionist, or Apex Hides the Hurt, or his short fiction, is that Colson Whitehead writes poetry. His words are forceful, each individually chosen for meaning, layers, sound, tone and cadence. When he reads, he reads with the crescendo of a poetry slammer, each line building and then abruptly fading away. Having written it himself, he is uniquely aware of the invisible line breaks, the ones that had to be sacrificed so his novel could be "fiction" and not "poetry." This is what's lost when reading is done silently, and to oneself. The beauty of the book reading is to hear the words spoken out loud, and learn something about the book, and the author in the process.

Related: Tony Bourdain reads from No Reservations and All Aunt Hagar's Children by DC's own Edward P. Jones

Thing 115: The Hillwood Estate and Museum

Where was I for Pride weekend? Why, at the parade, of course! Huddling under an umbrella, cheering Fenty’s smart car, and applauding PFLAG along with everyone else. The rain put a, er, damper on things, but as usual it was a gay time, in both the new and old meanings of the word.

But the highlight, oh the glorious great part of Pride weekend for me was a showing of Straight Jacket , starring the silver screen diva herself, Joan Crawford, outdoors on the lawn of the Hillwood Estate & Museum as part of their LGBT "Divas of the Screen" series.

First of all, I think we all know how much I love an outdoor movie.

Second of all, the Hillwood Estate is an absolutely gorgeous place to watch a movie outdoors. Far less crowded than the Mall, and much smaller so that you can really see well no matter where you sit. If you can locate and arrive at the place (which I had a lot of difficulty doing…it is near the Czech embassy, but not quite its neighbor) you are treated to a pristine lawn, old growth trees, an expansive view of the sky, and ample manicured gardens with fountains and koi fish and small bridges that lead over ponds.

Third of all, they supply you with FREE (!) bug spray. So long, West Nile Virus!

Of course, the best part is that you get to watch a movie with 300 of your closest gay girlfriends. There was a contest for the best picnic spread, judged before dark, so the spreads were queer-eyed-out. We're talking candelabra, floral arrangements, cake plates with decorated cupcakes, and enough gourmet cheeses to open up a specialty shop. In comparison, our spread of chickpea salad, tatziki and grapes was downright sad. There was also a Joan Crawford lookalike contest, which was won by a rather skeletal version of the lady. And, if things weren't gay enough for you yet, there was a proposal, on the lawn in front of the crowd, with one man down on one knee asking for the other's hand in marriage! A perfect, picturesque setting for a declaration of love, including plastic axes in the background as an homage to the flick we were about to see.

And what a movie! Joan Crawford, in all her glory, is an ax wielding murderess! The heads pop off like champagne corks! She makes an entrance, and the crowd goes wild! (And not a few shout "No! Wire! Hangers!"). The plot, in a nutshell, is that Joan Crawford murdered her husband and his mistress in a really gruesome/campy ax murderer/diva way, and then 20 years later is released from the asylum to rejoin her daughter who is living a wholesome life on a farm in California. Hilarity/horror ensues, and even though it is one of the campier movies I've ever seen, I did at one point whisper to my companion "I understand this movie is terrible, but darn it, I'm nervous! Don't go in there!" and then inevitably, the good natured doctor would walk into a dark room and the door would close and the glint of the ax would shine.

The other movies in the series were great too, How to Marry a Millionaire and Funny Face. Keep an eye out for this series next summer, and have yourself a gay old time.

Join me over at the Cork & Knife to read about a new social networking site for locavores.