Excuse Me, Is That Your Blog?

If I hear one more goddamn person talk about their overseas adventures in a way that sounds nonchalant but is really meant to come off like "OMG-I'm-so-much-more-cultured-than-you!!!" I'm gonna lose it. I realize this is totally off the cuff and random and ranty, but I overheard a girl in the lobby of my apartment today -- dressed, of course, in full OMG FITNESS attire -- insipidly chatting with her uninterested workout buddy about the amount of bugs they encountered on their recent camping trip. That's when she busted out this gem:

"OMIGOD when I was in Guyana, there were so many flies it was SO GROSS, and I thought Guyana was cool at first but, like, that's just cuz it was my first time overseas and, actually it was, like, really ghetto."

In case you're unclear as to where this rant is going, let me break it down for ya: nobody gives a fuck where you've been. Traveling abroad is, in all seriousness, a wonderful and enriching experience. Everyone who has the opportunity should do it. That said, please realize that a) EVERYONE in DC has some TOTALLY FASCINATING story about their trip abroad and b) not everyone has the money/opportunity to take a year to just dick off in Europe or Africa for no good reason, so talking about your experience unsolicited -- especially in that "OMG" tone -- makes you sound like a douche even if you aren't one, and an even bigger douche if you already are.

Anyway, rant over. Just had to get that out, because it totally reminded me of this one time I was swarmed with mosquitoes in a bazaar in the ancient walled city of Khiva during my internship in Uzbekistan.

Consider all the recent economic turmoil. Banks being bailed out. Wall Street crashing. Dogs and cats living together. Mass hysteria. Sound familiar? Sounds like 1929 to me. Eerily, it's like, exactly 79 years since the Great Depression. And you know what they say about the number 79. Oh, you don't? Nevermind. Anyway, all this talk about ECONOMIC CRISIS and FINANCIAL COLLAPSE got us thinkin' - what would another Great Depression look like in 2008?

First off, it wouldn't simply be called the Second Great Depression. Our generation is much too clever for that (Iraq War? War on Terrorism? Doesn't get much snappier than that!). No, it'd be something witty and uniquely descriptive, something along the lines of Great Depression II: XTREME ULTIMATE DEPRESSION. I can just smell the zipping Fox News graphics. Wolf Blitzer will be fired for devouring Anderson Cooper amidst all the excitement (and also because he sucks).




And just think of all the awful hardships we'll suffer if this thing really does hit rock bottom. There will be bank runs, until people realize all the high-yield online bank accounts they considered to be shrewd investments have simply deleted their websites and disappeared their money into the ether (FDIC-ya!). Left with nowhere to turn but the stack of Euros stashed in their mattresses (converted from dollars after a semester abroad in Europe opened their eyes to the futility of the dollar), people will start to consider Starbucks venti soy lattes a luxury rather than a necessity, and be forced to ration them accordingly. Jilted K Street lobbyists will be forced to drive wheelbarrows full of cash to the cupcake shop in Georgetown for just one shot of icing, and Anne Taylor stores will be looted and ravaged as feral trophy girlfriends revert to their primal instincts in the face of crippling economic hardship (better than having to shop at H&M!). Imagine the GDII:XUD bread lines: scores of self-entitled little hillrats bitching about the lack of low-carb, locally produced, organic handouts while updating their Twitters and Facebook statuses with snarky complaints from their iPhones and Blackberries.




Then there's the sad prospect of all these upstanding citizens foreclosing on their homes and being forced under bridges and into the city as their suburban condos burn down in riotous flames. Forget about the fabled "Purple Line" and "Southeast Waterfront" - there will be no economic development in DC (which sucks, because we were really looking forward to hitting up Bed, Bath and Beyond after Nats games). Picture these new "McCainburghs:" lean-tos made from gore-tex backpacks and camping material, set up next to wifi hotspots (and you thought Tryst's service was slow now!).




The privileged few who manage to retain their off-Columbia Heights rowhouses will have to survive by selling bathtub craft beer (Blue Moonshine). In a poetic reversal of fortune, yuppie couples hoisting oddly-named children in Baby Bjorns will have to join the El Salvadorian immigrants they once hired to build their decks in the wandering pursuit of employment. Boutique ethnic restaurants and pretentious eateries with monosyllabic names will be forced to close, as residents will no longer be able to afford fancy meals (The Crepes of Wrath).

Horrible things to consider, indeed - but will there be an FDR to save us this time around?




We certainly hope Obama will win next week and hit us up with a bitchin' "Nuevo Deal." If so, we are TOTALLY applying for jobs with the Tennessee Valley Authority! Unfortunately, the only other option we have to rescue our asses besides a GOP smackdown is another World War, and that would be extremely, ultimately depressing.





~ T & SP

Hi folks. I’m sorry I’ve been M.I.A. I’ve had a rough month, including but not limited to a breakup, moving, and studying for the GREs. But I thought I’d take a time out to discuss something that has been on my mind for quite a while.

There is an abominable mob sweeping the DC metropolitan area like a plague of locusts. If you happen to walk to any Metro station to commute to work, or even meander a block from your residence to get Starbucks, you will fall prey to its nefarious clutches. No one is immune to the harassment of this diabolical syndicate.

I am referring, of course, to DNC and Greenpeace field organizers.

What’s so bad about the DNC or Greenspeace, you may ask? Aren’t they generally liberal, peace-loving people who want to save humanity and the earth? Yes, they are. But the strategy they employ to pursue these otherwise benign causes is to station extroverted, loud, and persistent activists with clipboards at busy intersections to guilt trip the populace into donating cash. I hate them.

I work hard for a living, and it happens to be in a field that promotes many of the ideals DNC and Greenpeace support: public health. After spending 40 hours a week examining options to improve and expand health care, and preparing the nation for various public health emergencies, the last thing I want to do is talk to some cocksure 22-year old telling me the world is going to end if I don’t give him $25. (It would at least be funny if he asked for “about $3.50.”) These young zealots spout cliché talking points that demonstrate a sophomoric level of understanding of the issues, alienating would-be supporters. Moreover, it is virtually impossible to endear people to a cause while bombarding them after a long day at work, and it’s equally counterintuitive to pester them on a weekend off from their strenuous jobs. To add insult to injury, the activists try to make you feel ashamed if you don’t contribute, shouting things like, “Donate to Obama or we’ll have another 4 years of Bush”, “Put your money where your mouth is if you care about the Earth”, and “Not giving us cash makes the baby Jesus cry!” Okay maybe the last example was an exaggeration, but who wants to be blamed for the economy being in the shitter and the environment being laid to waste? There are far more constructive and effective things people can do to make a difference in the world besides donating to Political Action Committees.

In addition to the pure annoyance of these clipboard-carrying gadflies, I am also incensed by the lack of respect for financial privacy. If I want to donate to Obama, I can find his goddamn website on my own and enter my credit card digits in the privacy of my own home or cube. It is nobody’s business how I spend my money, least of all a meddling young adult who doesn’t have a firm enough grasp of the real world to appreciate the trade-offs people face when budgeting for life’s myriad expenses.

That brings me to my next point: HELLO?! RECECESSION MUCH?! I am trying to pay my rent, feed myself, and get myself to and from work, all of which cost significant amounts of a money, during an economic crisis with skyrocketing prices and stagnant wages. No matter how much I love Obama and freedom and peace and nature, I have to survive first and foremost to appreciate any of these things. One would think that the side trying to undo all of this damage and oust the Bush administration would be sympathetic to my plight, but instead they try to squeeze non-existent disposable income out of me. Well keep squeezing, you ain’t gonna find a drop.

The thing that upsets me most about getting harassed by field organizers is that I practice their ideology daily, in fact probably more so then they do themselves. I don’t drive, I don’t eat meat, I don’t waste water or other resources, and I don’t support “evil” corporations (assuming the definition of “evil” is Walmart and not Starbucks). I’m a living, breathing example of all their causes. I don’t expect them to recognize that fact in a quick glance at me after I get off the Metro escalator, but it still irritates me when they approach me asking for even more effort and money. Isn’t it enough that I embody all of your beliefs? Do I really need to cut you a check in order to prove myself a good citizen?

I understand that these kids are young, inexperienced, underpaid idealists with good intentions. I should not begrudge them their little rants if it makes them feel better about themselves. But at the same time, the organizations that employ them should rethink their strategies for fundraising. I don’t know if having people with clipboards bother commuters is an effective technique for garnering donations – I have never seen conclusive research on this topic – but I can’t imagine that it actually gets results. It’s a sad fact in politics that people in the top income bracket are the only ones that can comfortably donate to political causes and candidates, and the gap is ever widening between them and normal working folks like me. Sure one can organize a grassroots, Howard-Dean inspired campaign to expand the base of small contributors, but that can easily be achieved through the internet rather than in-person solicitation. I’m far more likely to make a donation if one of my friends posts a compelling note on Facebook than if some random dude with a nose ring comes up to me on the street asking if I care about the Earth. I highly doubt that the marginal gains these activists make compensates for the inconvenience and annoyance factors.

In conclusion, I ask simply to be left alone when I walk down the street. I’m smart enough to conduct my own research into the issues and make my own decisions, and I want to do it on my time and my terms. I have faith that rest of the DC residents can do the same.

I’ve been meaning to review Quarry House Tavern for a while, in keeping with my DC Beer Tour series, but I just haven’t had the chance. Now that I do, it’s time to give this classic Silver Spring establishment its due respect.

Walk down the thirteen steps into this basement-level bar for the first time and it’s easy to see why the Quarry House Tavern is one of the DC area’s oldest and most respected watering holes. Referring to itself as “Silver Spring’s Favorite Dive,” QHT doesn’t disappoint. The place is dark, dingy and decorated in such a way that you’d have no idea what year it was if it weren’t for the largely hipster crowd. The bathroom is one of the most unique situations I’ve ever seen – you’ve just got to see it for yourself. But all of these things add to the charm of what is the best of a dying breed down here – the authentic, unpretentious dive bar. The experience only gets better when you see the beer list.

QHT’s “Beericulum Vitae” (*This links to a beer list that’s older than a year. The BV changes constantly, and is now divided by type of beer rather than country of origin.) is the most formidable beer list I’ve seen in DC thus far. It may not boast the sheer number of draft beers as RFD (QHT has seven rotating taps and a permanent tap for Guinness), but the variety is breathtaking. From your standard American macrobrews to some of America’s best craft brews and on to some of the most obscure and exotic imports (including a wide selection of Trappist ales), there’s something to please the palate of any type of beer lover. During my most recent visit, I tried two brews from Oskar Blues, a Colorado brewery that was the first to distribute craft brew in cans. The “Ten FIDY” is a delicious, creamy Imperial Stout with a rich, chocolaty taste that, despite the 10% ABV, goes down smooth and leaves you feeling wonderfully warm. Probably the best stout I’ve ever had. The “Dale’s Pale Ale” was decent, especially for a canned brew, but looked and smelled more robust than it tasted. Regardless of personal taste, the presence of Oscar Blues on QHT’s menu is testament to the scope of the venue’s endeavor, as it is one of the few places in the DC metro area where you can find the rare brew. I’ve had countless other beers at QHT and have never been let down. There is the rare occasion when they’ll be out of an especially exotic beer, but given the size of the operation, the quality of the experience and the low probability of this happening, it likely won’t ruin your night. Likewise, the prices are such that you can enjoy two or three unique brews without going broke – markups are some of the lowest I’ve seen in DC, especially when compared to RFD.

What sets QHT above and beyond even the most bombastic beer snob hangouts is the quality of the service, food and entertainment. On even the busiest Saturday night, the bar is run smoothly and efficiently, and you will rarely wait long for your drink even if you are seated rather than at the bar. Food may take a while on occasion, but not without good reason. I’ve never had anything to drink there besides the beer, but I’ve noticed an ever-growing cache of high-end liquor as well, which the bartenders serve with care in addition to managing the taps and bottles. QHT is also home to what I consider to be the best happy hour special in the DC area – half-price burger Mondays, where patrons can choose from third-pound or half-pound patties topped with an array of great stuff (*The food menu, like the beer list, hasn’t been updated for a while on the website, but is basically the same.) and served with a side salad or, as a unique touch, tater tots. And the burgers are damn good. The entertainment is top-notch as well; QHT sports an old-school jukebox spinning everything from Buddy Holly to Weezer and doubles as a concert venue, famous for its rockabilly Saturdays (concert calendar can be found on the main MySpace page).

As an after-work hangout or weekend dive-bar destination, there are few better places in DC than QHT. “Beers. Burgers. Basement.” That’s their slogan – and all three are done exceptionally well. Give QHT a whirl if you haven’t already, and if you have, I’ll see ya there again on Monday.

Quarry House Tavern
8401 Georgia Ave
Silver Spring, Maryland 20910
301-587-8350