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From all these trees,
in the salads, the soup, everywhere,
cherry blossoms fall.—Bashō, trans. Robert Hass
This year the cherry blossoms peaked in the cold and rainy final days of March.
Two evenings, we walked the tidal pool path surprised to be almost alone with the trees.
Yet, after the single Yoshino cherry blossoms have dropped their petals, then in April’s first sunlight and warmth come the frilly double Kwanzans.
And then—
Señor, unless I am blind, you are wearing no pants.
Sunday outing with a friend who speaks Japanese, with whom of course I rarely converse in Japanese. We have resolved to do better…sometime. First we have lunch at Mitsitam Café at the National Museum of the American Indian. I quite enjoy a cup of lamb and quinoa soup, a roasted squash side, and a Navajo fry bread. Then we’re off to a lecture by Andrew Maske at the Freer Gallery, “Tracing Tea Bowls: Elite Ceramics in Edo Period Japan,” including the development of Takatori ware. We pause on the way out to ogle the curvy 10th Century Indian bronzes.
At the entrance to the L’Enfant Plaza metro station, we see a large crowd of college-age kids, a Fox News cameraman, and a few photographers with tricked-out equipment. We have no idea why the kids are gathering, but from their voices we feel their exuberant titillation. Always a good sign. Nothing grabs my attention like young, (reasonably) good-looking people skipping along excitedly saying: “Oh my Gawd, look at all the people! When do we do it?”
Katie and I had unknowingly slipped into the Improv Everywhere No Pants! Subway Ride 2011, now in its 10th year. Capitol Improv was the local organizer.
Yellow line heading south, fairly crowded train, people with suitcases headed to the airport, a normal assortment of locals and tourists, except that as soon as the doors closed most people on the train pulled off shoes, unbuttoned and stripped off their pants. We saw lots of costume-ish flannel boxers paired with striped socks. I respected one guy whose worn, gray, cotton boxer briefs indicated he had not indulged in much self-conscious attire planning. A young woman wore a snug pair of panties printed with V-shaped text:
Turn Me
On
I was weighing my options for next year (one should heed mother’s advice to always wear presentable underwear), when it occurred to me that the pantless riders were dressed more respectably and were acting more politely than many of the “IT’S NOT THIS STOP! WE HAVE THREE MORE TO GO! GO SIT WITH YOUR FATHER!” August-sweaty tourists who ride the metro every summer.
Here’s to scenes of chaos and joy in public places. And underwear.
The steps of the National Gallery of Art (West Building)
Remarkably genial, polite, and youthful crowd carrying irony-laden signs: a huge gathering of people I would enjoy hanging out with. And so I did for a couple of hours on Saturday.
Sign: “Never too angry to spellcheck”
Zombie Lincoln
Highlights: Continual low-level amusement reading the “protest” signs. The benediction by Don Novello as Father Guido Sarducci. Yusef (Cat Stevens) singing “Peace Train.” The O’Jays performing “Love Train.” Jon Stewart’s summation speech, which was a feel-good moment, even as a friend standing next to me said, “Jesus, I hope these people vote. They should have made everyone here sign an absentee ballot.”
One of many group waves, lead by the “Mythbusters” guys
Sign: Jesus cradling a dinosaur T. rex
Two favorite signs I couldn’t get shots of: “God Hates Nags” and a rewrite of the Gadsden flag as “Don’t Stomp Me Bro!”
RallytheCause.com has a “comprehensive” list of the signs.
You get the idea…
Around 3 o’clock 200,000 people thought they’d grab a late lunch in Chinatown.
There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do…
Garden memento mori. Probably a gift from the neighbor’s cats.
You shouldn’t chase after the past or place expectations on the future. What is past is left behind. The future is as yet unreached. Whatever quality is present you clearly see right there, right there. Not taken in, unshaken, that’s how you develop the heart. Ardently doing what should be done today, for — who knows? — tomorrow death. There is no bargaining with Mortality & his mighty horde. Whoever lives thus ardently, relentlessly both day & night, has truly had an auspicious day: so says the Peaceful Sage.
— “Bhaddekaratta Sutta: An Auspicious Day” (MN 131), translated from the Pali by Thanissaro Bhikkhu
