Carpe Diem

A Snowball Fight for the Ages

Mar 4th, 2010

“Charge!” The outer circle boomed, quickly advancing forward throwing everything we had at the enemy. I took cover quickly along with my fellow warriors Justin, Grant and Dan – brothers that went through everything that day. Lying just in front of the inner circle we opened fire, attempting to flank our enemy and split them in two. Smack, I was hit. My shoulder stung, but only for a second as I wiped the snow from my jacket.

The DuPont Circle snowball fight saw everything - artillery from the back, full out charges, back hits, face hits, American Flags, shower curtains, a Brazilian flag that seemed slightly out of place in a snowball fight, Associated Press photos, sore arms and more laughs then I can remember having.

The perfect formula fell into place: two feet of snow that crippled DC; two thousand people with nothing else to do; a temperature right around 30 degrees for great, wet snow; and a message about a snowball fight at 2 pm that spread across DC blogs, social media and word of mouth. I think I’ll be the first to dub this DC’s white revolution.

Epic is now what people are calling it. And I can’t argue with that. I don’t ever think I’ve felt more like a nine-year-old, not even when I was actually nine. I mean, two-thousand people all there just to have fun, and lots of it. Throwing snowballs at everyone – some doing more watching from the back, others having face bruises from standing right up front. No one got angry when they got hit, no tempers flared. Just lots of good ole’ fun.

A sense of community and ease filled the air. Yes, we were snowed snowed it with nothing else to do, but it made me proud to live in DC, that something so big and, well, epic, went off without issue. The last time I felt a similar air was Obama’s Inauguration.

Even before we headed to Dupont shortly before two, Justin, Grant and I felt the snowball fight might be big. The word was spreading, that was clear. But it also was turning out to be a rather beautiful snowfall with fairly warm temperatures. So, with the city paralyzed, we got dressed like kids to play in the snow. We walked straight down Connecticut Avenue with hundreds of other people.

I became anxious, we all did. Like getting ready for a big game anxious. Like the big first date anxious. Like the Christmas morning anxious. We wanted to run, well at least I did, but we walked. Maybe out of fear of looking too much like, well, a nine-year-olds. Little did we know.

It already started when we arrived, we could see if down the hill as we approached. What a sight. Literally thousands of people crowded Dupont Circle, which isn’t all that big.

The snowball fight former around the middle. A solid group – maybe a hundred or so – held their ground in a circular formation around the base of the fountain. Everybody else circled around them about 10 meters away. Let’s just say the people in the middle got hit a lot, but clearly were having some of the most fun.

It was a mix of capture the flag, artillery coordination launching onto the center circle and charges led by people like Grant, Justin, Dan and me. Yes, we were those guys. Well, kids, we were only nine-years-old.

We packed our snowballs, took cover behind one another and recited battle line after battle line from the Revolutionary War, to Brave heart, to every other classic line from a battle or war movie you can imagine. And people laughed, so we kept yelling.

Some two hours later, energy fading, we called it quits. We had engages in two snowball fights, the one in the middle and a splitter fight off to the side. We hardly left the front lines. Soaked, tired and starting to get cold, it was time to leave. And there is only one more thing to do on a snow day, head to the bar to warm up.

Posted in: DC Living, Features.
Tagged: DC snow storm · Dupont Circle · Dupont Circle snowball fight · snOMG · snopocolypse · snowmageddon

My First (Green) Christmas

Jan 8th, 2010

by Evan.

2 comments

The newspaper and dead tree branch looked pretty. I mean, it was the comic section after all so some color stood out. And the tree branch was a freshly cut pine one, looking even a bit festive. The clear tape threw me off a bit, but I hardly noticed. Together, it all looked good.

Now maybe next to the box with the gold-trimmed angel wrapping paper and elegant gold and white bow it looked slightly out of place, but I didn’t complain. I smiled.

I call my family’s first attempt at a green Christmas a success. Much work remains, but it’s a start. And as I take credit for the idea – and thus the burden imposed – I applaud my family’s efforts, especially from my Mom. For a lady that prides herself on the decorative and elegance of her wrapping and Christmas decorations — which are gorgeous, I must say — going greener and thus less elaborate called for some innovative thinking.

Last year I sat in our family living room during our gift time and felt a little uneasy. Not at the gifts or the company of my family, but because of the waste I saw building before me. And in a family that loves to give gifts, the waste piled high. (Not a complaint on the gifts, just the waste, to be clear.)

Ribbons, bows, wrapping paper. Boxes, gift bags and tissue paper. Hardly any of it recyclable. After tearing through all of it seeing what Santa left, the garbage sat in a pile. Stuffing it in a bag with my Mom I said, “Mom, let’s do a green Christmas next year.” She said, “OK,” probably thinking I would forget.

So needless to say she didn’t appear thrilled when I brought it up again over Thanksgiving. And, somewhat understandably. Christmas for her just became more than just wrapping all the presents, doing her holiday baking, decorating the house and finding a place for her upwards of 50 Santas. Now she also had to accommodate the wishes of her youngest child who thinks he is saving the world. Sorry Mom!

Mom charged me with finding ways to make Christmas greener, as honestly, we both knew little of where to begin. A little tardy with my findings, I sent Mom an email with some ideas, tips and a few Web sites that went more in depth. And, voila!

Water color based wrapping paper replaced oil based, and thus became recyclable. More gift bags replaced boxes and paper, and were saved for next year. More packages went bow-less, which are often the least recyclable. Mom even used those re-usable grocery bags tied closed for larger and awkward gifts.

Oh yes, and the colorful comics section with a small evergreen branch taped on for a bow possibly wins most creative green wrapping job. Props Mom, I’m impressed.

I sat this year in our family living room a bit easier this Christmas. For the first time instead of just a small recycling pile we filled a recycling bag, as well as having a pile of re-usable gift bags and boxes. I estimate we cut down our Christmas day waste by close to 50 percent. Not bad for a first attempt, not bad at all.

And I’m not sure in the end the financial cost of a greener Christmas added up to that much more. I know my Mom spent more money on some more elaborate recyclable wrapping papers. But I found some that sufficed just fine for a comparable, if not a cheaper price. Once the re-usable bags make it a few years, too, the savings adds up quickly. And same with the boxes.

(This almost reminds me of another situation where a big investment now in a cleaner future might payoff later. Oops, that’s renewable energy infrastructure and climate change legislation. Different ideas I guess, as they’re supposedly are good reasons to hold those back.)

Some present didn’t look quite as nice or sparkle as brightly. I didn’t care. I admired the effort and it made me feel damn happy. Remember, it’s the little things.

Maybe next year’s Christmas will hit 75 or 100 percent green. Maybe everyone’s Christmas will one day soon. For now, I think 50 percent amounts to a great start from a family that started at zero and maintained a large stock of non-recyclables that need use sometime.

So family, and especially Mom, big props and thank you. I knew Christmas became greener when I walked in and saw that comic page wrapped box with the pine branch taped on top.

Posted in: Features, Sustainibility.
Tagged: green Christmas · green living · re-usable · recyclable

26.2 Finished; Thousands Fed

Nov 24th, 2009

by Evan.

2 comments

Mile 24 of New York City Marathon before making the turn into Central Park.

Technorati Tags: New York City Marathon,Friends of the World Food Program,world hunger,my marathon for hunger

Forty five donations, 9280 meals raised and 26.2 miles run. Successful? I think so.

The first part here needs to be a big thank you. It’s a big thank you to the 45 people who donated to the Friends of the World Food Program for what I called my marathon for world hunger.

It’s a thank you for more than the over $2000 raised. It’s a thank you for joining me on my marathon journey, a thank you for believing in a cause so dear to my heart and a thank you for the 9280 meals that caused that much less hunger in the world. A big thank you is much deserved.

To join with so many people did complete my marathon experience. So once again, thank you. And, like my mom always says, just say you’re welcome.

The second part of the marathon experience goes like this: 19 miles of exhilaration, legs floating and confidence followed by 7.2 miles of possible the worst pain of my life.

For 19 miles everything flowed. Click, up and over the bridge off Staten Island. Click, 10K long gone. Click, rolling though the halfway mark. Click, steady up the long clime of the Queensborough Bridge. Click, feeling the energy of the 1st Avenue crowds. I was clicking off the miles and, for the most part, felt damn good.

Then, Bam.

I’m thankful it wasn’t an instantaneous wall. Thinking back on it, it came on gradually. I felt it coming, but pressed through. My left leg – the troubled knee leg – started getting tight early, around the half mark. I still felt good, though, and thought I could get through it.

Up the incline was the first real test, but it’s a hill, it’s supposed to be hard. The bridge is the longest climb on the course – about a mile – before coming down off the bridge amidst spectators eight deep. Forgive me for not stopping to think about the hurt setting in with the deafening roar around me, I just ran.

The pain didn’t hit until after 1st avenue. After I cleared the thousands of adrenaline pumping spectators and after the pack splintered – the pack of anywhere from five to 20 of us that latched on together since mile three.

Then it hurt. Legs tightening more with every stride. Wanting to enjoy the final stretch into Central Park, but knowing the beauty of the finish line will mask the vibrant colors of the changing leaves.

I made it. I knew I would. But it did hurt, more than I expected.

Rounding those final bends in Central Park I felt in slow motion. Thankfully the miles times kept more at medium motion pace.

And to think, I just wanted to sit down after crossing the finish line, but wouldn’t get to for a mile of walking. Then I sat. Lips blue, but out of my racing flats and wet cloths and into warm-ups. Then I sat.

Parents, roommates, a few DC friends and a few more NY friends all came out. The experience – the day – was impressive to say the least. The organization, the fans on the course, my first 26.2 miles.

But again, getting back to DC and looking at the donations made it just that much more worth it. So this is a thank you to the experience, my friends and family, and everyone that joined me on my marathon for hunger. I say we do it again sometime.

Posted in: Features, NYC Marathon Training.
Tagged: Friends of the World Food Program · ING New York City Marathon · my marathon for world hunger · New York City Marathon · NYC Marathon

Wave 1, Corral 1; Still People Hungry

Oct 20th, 2009

by Evan.

No comments yet

A few more hundred miles under my belt, my travel arrangements to New York City set and a cortisone shot in my knee means it’s almost go time.

Yesterday marked the official “it’s getting really close day.” I received my bib number and starting position – wave one/corral one, which I think is good – yesterday from the New York City Marathon. There is no turning back now, even with a bum knee. In 11 days I’ll toe the start line of the New York City Marathon. In 11 days I’ll hopefully cross that finish line. In 11 days my marathon for world hunger end.

Together, with me doing the running and you all doing the giving, we’ve fed hungry people in this world 3040 meals. That’s 3040 times someone didn’t go hungry – 3040 lives possibly saved.

A big thanks to all who have donated so far. It’s an amazing feeling to have family and friends supporting me and the cause I believe so deeply in.

And while 3040 meals feeds many people, we can feed more.

This past week marked World Food Day on Friday, the giving of the World Food prize for agricultural innovation aiding to solving world hunger and the completion of the toughest part of my training. I think all deserve celebration.

And what better way to celebrate? How about helping me in a final push to raise even more money for Friends of the World Food Program and feeding even more people. The deal still stands – I’ll do the running, you do the giving.

The link below takes you to my donation page. Give what you can.

Join me in my final push for the marathon and fighting world hunger.

http://www.kintera.org/c.nmL3KlNYLtH/b.5308639/siteapps/personalpage/ShowPage.aspx?sid=grKPKWNHLnLRJVOFItE

A big many thanks to all,

Evan Jurkovich

Posted in: Features.

26.2, the hungry and hopefully you

Oct 5th, 2009

by Evan.

1 comment

Somewhere between 1000 and 1200 miles of running later, I hope tackling my marathon seems much easier. Especially because I get to eat.

Eight weeks ago I set out on my NYC Marathon “official 12 weeks of training.” Since then, I covered some 800 plus miles in my attempt for a successful 26.2. Yes, I ran consistently before that 12 week mark – just not nearly as much. And yes I took this weekend off because I wasn’t entirely sure my body would make it if I didn’t. Regardless, training presses on.

But I now stand less than four weeks out from the experience that I’ve over come my fear of death from – the marathon – although getting through the training has proven its difficulties. And even better, I now seek to make every mile I run in training matter more than just my preparation for the challenge I’m volunteering myself for.

A few weeks ago I solicited my services to raise money for a cause I believe in through my training and racing. It was the goal to fulfill my marathon experience – to use the time of training and preparation not just for myself, but something bigger. The same lesson I learned from Pheidippides story – that maybe running a marathon shouldn’t be all about you.

My old roommate and the Friends of the World food Prize came through with an offer I couldn’t resist – to run for world hunger.

Now, my training means much more than my success. My training means miles run to feed the starving. My training means every day I run with company – me, the hungry and hopefully, you.

Every day, 25,000 people die of hunger and it only costs 25 cents to give them a meal. I have no idea how that fits into 26.2 miles, but I’m going to make it.

Running for hunger fits me well. Not because I tend to eat more than should be proportionally acceptable for me, but because over the past few years I’ve gained an appreciation for food production and what it means in a world where some billion go hungry.

Growing up in the Midwest surrounded by the most fertile land in the world and having the privilege of meeting the late Norman Borlaug – the Father of the Green Revolution - and witnessing his Congressional Gold Medal Award ceremony taught me something. It taught me that we can make enough food to feed the world. All six billion and counting.

But most in agriculture today say that making enough food isn’t the biggest issue encountering world hunger, it’s feeding it to the people that need it. And it’s the Friends of the World Food Program that feeds – that takes the problem of distribution that so many shy away from head on and that takes the world’s food to the places of the people that need it the most.

And still people starve. And more places and people remain in need.

Giving the Friends of the World Food Program more resources means more people eat. And not just anybody, but the people that need it the most.

My challenge ahead – as a runner - is NYC Marathon. I want our challenge ahead – as humans – to be feeding the world.

Help me to help the Friends of the World Food Program. The miles I run don’t need to mean anything, but let’s make them.

Let’s make those miles mean food for those who have none.

I’ll even make you a deal: I’ll do the running, you do the giving.

I ask that you help me fight world hunger through things we’re good at – me, running; you, giving. I want each and every mile I run in training to mean something.

So here is where you come in. I ask you to make a donation based on every mile I run. And for easy math’s sake, let’s put the number of miles I will run in training for NYC Marathon at 1000, which might be a little low. So, to help you get started with the math, here you go:

1 cent/mile = $10.00

2 cents/mile = $20.00

5 cents/mile = $50.00

10/ cents/mile = $100

$1/mile = $1000

Catching on yet?

Donate whatever you want and whatever you can. I even have a Web page for donations set up through the World Food Program, click here.

Help me run this race against World Hunger.

Posted in: Features, NYC Marathon Training.
Tagged: Friends of the World Food Program · New York City Marathon · NYC Marathon · training · world hunger

42,000 People Running a Marathon; and Me

Aug 25th, 2009

by Evan.

3 comments

(This piece contains a slightly more than moderate tone of sarcasm.)

He died.

That’s how the story of the creation of the marathon ends. The Athenian Pheidippides ran from the battlefield near the town of Marathon to Athens to announce the Greek victory over Persia in the Battle of Marathon. Then he died. Supposedly he collapsed from exhaustion, of all things. Who would’ve thought? (Thanks Wikipedia.)

So someone tell me at what point other humans started thinking this was a good idea? I mean if we’re going back to ancient times anyway, let’s just play gladiator, too. That sounds good. Many of them died, so it makes for a good challenge.

And I joined the club and thought for some reason a marathon sounded like a brilliant idea. So, on November 1, 2009 at 9:40 a.m., on the sound of a gun, my New York City Marathon experience commences. Nervous? Yes. Scared? Yes. Excited? Of course.

In all reality, though, my NYC Marathon experience began months ago. All summer I ran to ensure my readiness for two weeks ago – the 12 week mark. Now, two weeks into “official” training, I’m nearing conclusion of my second 100 mile week. Crazy? Yes. Borderline psychotic? Yes. But it’s the only way I know.

Two 100 mile weeks down and more to go. It’s that reason why so many people now run Pheidippides death march. Why people put the Marathon on their list of things to do before they die. Why those people call those running marathons crazy and psychotic. That reason: to test our limits physically and mentally. To see how far our bodies can carry us. And, quite frankly, we have some sick satisfaction when we get called crazy and psychotic. It makes us feel good or something.

The other day I read up on some of the prerace information I’m supposed to know. It’s refreshing to know I’ll be one of 42,000 crossing the start line that day. That’s really the only thing I could focus on. All of the questions like, “Where to arrive in the morning. Which corral to stand in. Where to drop your back. What transportation to take to the start line.” revolved around the 42,000 number. Something tells me I can just follow the crowd. Ask lots of questions. And pray I end up in the right spot.

Pinning my bib number that morning to my singlet is usually what I worry about.

But I am excited, truly, despite the mild sarcasm of this piece. The chance to run NYC Marathon is a dream of many and of mine. Little doubt exists in my mind that it will be an amazing day. If I run great, I get to say I did it at NYC. If I don’t run great, I get to say I ran NYC. Not terrible either way.

I don’t yet know how my training will go. It’s a good start so far, yes. But in the sport of running, injury always lurks just around the corner.

I hope to toe the line on the morning of November 1. I even hope I get to feel what miles 20-26 feel like, even though I’m terrified for that same feeling.

Maybe the better word than crazy or psychotic is idiot. And I’m okay with that.

But one part of my marathon experience remains missing. For all the reasons I want to run this for myself, to see how far I can go, I, at the same time, want to run this for something bigger. It’s hard to imagine all the time I will put into this just for me. My goal is to find a way to raise money or awareness for something I’m passionate about.

I’ve exchanged a few emails with the people at Save Darfur, but nothing yet. If anyone has ideas, please let me know!

Pheidippides only ran the 26 miles – and thus died – for something bigger. Maybe that’s the bigger lesson.

Oh, and as much as training and the marathon will hurt, I probably won’t die.

Posted in: Features, NYC Marathon Training.
Tagged: marathon · New York City Marathon · NYC Marathon · racing · training

Thousands of Words

Jul 21st, 2009

by Evan.

2 comments

A thousand words adds up quickly. It equates to a decent length blog post, well into the teens of column inches in a newspaper and roughly four times the length typically given for one to thoroughly express their opinion in a printed letter to the editor.

A thousand words also takes me a solid length of time to write, putting on full display my at least partly type “A” personality.

Sometimes I like to think that my words somehow chip into that thousand word per picture ratio. Spending so much time agonizing over every word, phrase and sentence, I think I deserve a better ratio. I mean, who decides if the ratio changes?

Well the ratio doesn’t change. It’s a thousand words per picture. Don’t ask me why, but it is. And even though I might at times like to think my words deserve a better ratio simply because they are mine is a sorry mistake.

That’s really the beauty of it, right? Everyone’s words tell a different story, in a different way, giving all equal weight.

So really, we need more than just a thousand words to tell a picture. To really understand a picture, we need a thousand different writers with a thousand different words per picture, too.

This blog contains many of my words already. Some may think too many. So it’s time to share some pictures – pictures of DC, pictures of events I attended and DC moments that captivated me.

I mean let’s be honest. This blog may at sometime contain thousands and thousands of words. But for right now, I’m going to save you the time of reading 27,000 words and just let you look at 27 pictures. You’re welcome.

Disclaimer: My photo taking ability wavers somewhere between bad and terrible. Sometimes I get lucky with a good shot – I think I managed a few here – but most of the time they are just basic pictures. I took my quickly aging point-and-shoot camera, saw something I wanted to look at again sometime, and took a picture. That’s all. Nothing more. Enjoy!

View Full Album

Posted in: DC Living, Features.
Tagged: Camden Yards · Cherry Blossoms · DC · Memorial Day · Minnesota Twins · Save Darfur · Vietnam Memorial · writing

A Yea Vote for the Climate Bill

Jul 10th, 2009

by Evan.

2 comments

The United States House of Representatives narrowly passed the American Clean Energy and Security Act of 2009, on June 26, voting in favor of the most sweeping and comprehensive legislation aimed at controlling greenhouse gasses and energy independence ever to take the House floor.

And I voted for it.

That’s right, I levied all of the political capital I have, risked my re-election next year and separated myself from many of the “conservative” democrats from those Midwest states that rely on coal plants for so much of their energy to vote yes.

In the end, in possibly one of the biggest votes this congress will see – depending on the health care vote – and possibly one of the biggest votes of the past 50 years, voting no just wasn’t an option.

But it wasn’t that easy, not by a long shot.

For much of the day I didn’t know how I was going to vote. Even for me, the passionate environmental lover and clean energy freak, this bill scared me.

I bugged my Hill friends all day long, wondering what was happening. Oh, and quickly trying to brief myself with the 25^th hour managers amendment thrown in that I found out about when my blackberry went off at 3 a.m. Could I really read those extra 300 pages before the vote?

My staff kept tabs on the constituent phone calls coming in, and, 10 to 1, they were against the bill. Homeowners didn’t want higher energy costs, especially in a deep recession. Business owners didn’t want higher overhead costs. Farmers knew it meant an increase in fertilizer costs. For everyone, it meant paying more.

I recognize that as a representative official, I work for my constituents. But was this that one vote, the one that comes along maybe only a few times in a career – if that – where I heed the judgment because of some factor that I deem larger than the people who put me in office?

Yes.

I ride my bike or the bus to work. I recycle everything. I attempt to buy things that use less packaging. I wash my cloths in cold water. I use as little AC as possible. And all because I think it matters – which hopefully it does.

Enviro, Generation Y, my inner hippie – call it whatever you want. But it’s far from enough. And I don’t care if you believe in global warming – which I do – or not. We must start somewhere, and this is that start.

The bill presses higher energy costs of everyone, understood. But what’s the worst case scenario here? What if those scientists that signed the petition are correct? What if the warming of the earth and melting of the polar ice caps is just a cycle of the world? What if people and lawmakers like Representative Steve King from Northwest Iowa are correct, that climate change doesn’t exist? Those thoughts can’t yet be completely ruled out.

But so what. So they are true. So global warming doesn’t exist and we just passed a bill to curb it, then what?

Then America just passed the bill to lead this country to energy independence. The bill that gave us a healthier place to live. The bill that helped create American made jobs. The bill that will ensure energy for our future.

So the only way I could vote no is if I didn’t want to see American military lives and billions of dollars saved securing Mideast oil. Or if I thought carbon dioxide helped me breath. Or if I thought America was finished creating new industries. Or if I hoped my quality of live should be better than my children’s.

That’s the worst case scenario of what a yes vote to this bill means. Now throw climate change back in.

Without passing this legislation, America failed to lead – and we love leadership in America – the world to save itself. Not voting yes means more drastic changes in weather patterns causing increased natural disasters. It means more animal species vanishing. It means islands and shorelines disappearing. It means millions of people become “climate change refugees.” It means ruining the lives of future generations.

I recognize it’s a cost, but it’s one I’m willing to bear.

So my paycheck is a little smaller each month – I can find other places to cut. So my profit margins aren’t quite as high. At what point do all Americans, individuals, groups, corporations and industry, need to come together. For me that time is now. The risks are just too great otherwise.

The bill steers far from perfect, but it’s a start. How often is perfect legislation passed? Not very, if ever. This bill becomes a building block to start saving the world from the absolute worst case scenario.

I voted yes. It would be nice at some point for everybody to accept some sacrifice. The cost only rises.

Posted in: Features, Issues of Today.
Tagged: #ACES · Climate Bill · Energy Bill · energy independence · Waxman-Markey

DC Update

Jun 9th, 2009

by Evan.

3 comments

The simple four word summary: I love it here.

Yes, I miss much about the Midwest. I miss my family and friends. I miss the quick car trips home to see Mom and Dad, a good meal and do laundry. I miss going to real, full sized grocery stores. I miss grilling out with friends, having a few beers and playing pointless yard games actually in a yard. I miss going to a bar big enough to move in. I miss the laidback attitudes, the homebody comfort and the down-to-earth personalities. I miss having someone smile back to you on the sidewalk.

But I love it here, and for quite different reasons. I admire the drive of many here for success and to make the world a better place. I love the ability to walk or public transport where I want, not needing to hop in my car every time I need something. I enjoy the wealth of happy hours in this city – as do all DCers – and the nightlife as a young adult, which I train for through the happy hours. Oh, and I don’t like hangovers. But most of all I love DC for those things that I say “only in DC,” too, and the opportunities all around.

A few weeks ago I wrote about my “DC moments” – those instances where I stop, recognizing an inspirational feeling, reaffirming my DC desire. I also have these “only in DC” experiences. And yes, there is a difference. A “DC moment” is just that, a moment – that “ah ha” time. My “only in DC” experiences more often are a day, chain of events or not so much an inspirational moment, but doing something or seeing something only one could here.

Example.

About a month ago I woke up – let’s just say mid- to late-morning. After getting a large glass of water and a couple ibuprofens, I headed out for a great run. Getting back, I quickly threw down some breakfast and headed down towards the White House. I swung by Caribou Coffee – yes, I continue to feed my Caribou addiction here – and headed to Lafayette Park. (It’s the park across from the White House for all you out-of-towners).

People were already gathering when I arrived. Volunteers passed out signs and stickers and a bongo player and violinist played African melodies under signs referencing the genocides of the world.

The Save Darfur rally started a two o’clock. I stood, then sat, listening to stories from survivors – leaders, parliamentarians and normal people – of genocides in Bosnia, Rwanda, Sudan and the Holocaust. After these stories from survivors, the activists took the stage. Listening and watching people like John Prendergast and Jerry Fowler – prominent anti- genocide activists – and looking beyond them to the marvelous and influence of that big white house directly behind, I thought “only in DC.”

At 3:30 the program ended, but the day did not.

I proceeded from Lafayette Park down to the Mall to catch the second half of the Earth Day festival. After exploring some of the “earth-friendly” booths, I met up with some friends. We stood waiting for the next band to take the stage. Then, there they were. The Flaming Lips!

Okay, if you don’t know the Flaming Lips, don’t feel bad. I didn’t know them either and I went to see them. Well, it was free, but still. Do a quick Google search of the Flaming Lips and maybe you’ll get an idea of them, as I’m not sure I can explain it. I can’t say I’d listen to their music on a regular basis, but they do put on a hell of a show.

I stood listening and watching my first Flaming Lips experience – a world famous band for free – surrounded by peace pipes and the more than faint swell of pot seemingly in every direction. And again I thought, “only in DC.”

Finally making it home, I thought about the day and again thought “only in DC” could I do all of that in a day.

Or take Memorial Day when I headed down to the Mall and memorials only to run into the Memorial Day Parade, which I didn’t know existed. All over the Mall I watched the tributes, tourists, and veterans and family members. “Only in DC” I thought about those sights.

That was just one day. It doesn’t include my first Washington State Society Potlatch (yes, I’m from Minnesota, but it’s DC, so I went), seeing the President’s motorcade and entourage just down the street from my work because Obama was having dinner nearby, Monday night kickball and flip cup, Thursday night softball on the Mall, or Hashing (more on that another time).

And work is great. For some reason I fooled my employers. They keep giving me more work to do and projects to partake in. And I like the work I get. It continues to interest me, teach me new things and push me. Having colleagues that are willing to put trust and confidence in me and treat me so well sure makes everything easier.

But maybe most important of all is the great group of friends that have let me join them. We have good times, there is little doubt about that. I believe just a few weekends ago I only stopped laughing for a few hours – when I slept.

So I love DC. For how long is yet to be determined, but I’ll worry about that later. No wonder I sleep so well here.

Posted in: DC Living, Features.
Tagged: DC · Flaming Lips · Save Darfur

@aplusk A Big Thanks!

Apr 29th, 2009

by Evan.

1 comment

Fifty thousand mosquito nets later, I’m a fan of Ashton Kutcher and Twitter.

Setting off on his first to one million followers on Twitter versus CNN, Ashton Kutcher made a promise. Kutcher Tweeted that if he won, he would donate 10,000 mosquito nets to help fight malaria in Africa. CNN followed suite making the same promise.

Before, I never really garnered an opinion on Kutcher. I knew I enjoyed a few of his movies. I knew he came from good ole’ Iowa roots. But besides that, Kutcher remained just another celebrity. I didn’t even fall for the charm, smile and dashing good looks that so many of my gender counterparts express.

And if you knew me, you would recognize that I could care less about celebrity status, how much money someone makes or their ability to capture tabloid headlines. The only time I care happens when celebrities use their influence to help make our world a better place. I recognize George Clooney stepping up to the plate and using his voice for Darfur. And I recognize Oprah for her givings.

But this so rarely happens that I don’t care much for celebrities. If they did more…wait a second, what did Kutcher do? Yes, in his efforts to beat CNN to one million Twitter followers – which he did – he donated 10,000 mosquito nets to help fight malaria in Africa. And in the end, after a match from CNN and a few others, including Oprah, the final tally on mosquito nets donated exceeded 50,000.

I guess I’m a fan of Ashton Kutcher.

Oh, and along with the 50,000 mosquito nets, Kutcher greatly raised awareness for an often forgotten issue not only on Twitter, but also with the numerous interviews he did, including Larry King Live and Oprah. Adda boy Ashton!

Kutcher’s race to one million became an amazing symbol of what is possible when you have the name recognition and reach of someone like Kutcher.

And please, who cares if he did it on Twitter. Who cares that he gained a million followers. Who cares that he did it to add more recognition and value to himself.

If more celebrities took this route in establishing their image instead of landing on the front of tabloids, the world would greatly benefit. Of all the riches and influence held by celebrities out there, just imagine.

Kutcher captured the value of social media and did it in quite an honorable way. The debate continues on how best to use social media. And there remains no right or wrong way. But if one way is to build an image to a dedicated group of followers interested in what you say, Kutcher did it. And he did it with a message of charity.

A big thanks to Ashton Kutcher for showing the world the power of celebrities and social media.

Posted in: Features, Issues of Today.
Tagged: @aplusk · Africa · Ashton Kutcher · charity · CNN · malaria · Twitter

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@aplusk A Big Thanks!

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