Independence Air, beleagured and bankrupt, may be snatched up by Richard Branson as part of a way to launch Virgin America. But, FlyerTalk’s View from the Wing isn’t so sure:

Personally I don’t see this happening, both because I’m skeptical of most Branson efforts. A fabulous entrepreneur, there’s usually more buzz than substance when Branson rumors circulate. The rules on foreign ownership of US airlines are moving towards relaxation, but any changes are unlikely to be in effect in time for an Independence bid. And the Virgin America project has simply demonstrated a greater propensity for inaction than reality over the last couple of years.

Regardless, the airline goes up for auction in the middle of the next month, will everything going to the highest bidder.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

2005-11-15 dc car fire at the national archives (more context)

Originally uploaded by schizoform.

From the Flickrstream of Schizoform comes this image taken outside the National Archives Tuesday Morning (according to the EXIF data), but neither WTOP nor other local stations seemed to have any coverage. The next photos in the stream seem to indicate that the fire was quickly extinguished by the DCFD. Very cool to see Flickr being used as a news service, in some regards.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Man it’s chilly this morning. If you think that’s bad though, take a look at tomorrow night:

Seriously, time to unpack the heavy winter weather gear, tomorrow night it’s going well below freezing. If you really want to help someone stay warm tonight, consider taking an extra coat down to the First District Coat Drive at 415 Fourth St. SW from 8a to 4p today and tomorrow (and has been running all week). The cause is good, and it’s getting chilly again. A coat isn’t just warmth, it’s life.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Well, our beloved Cell Phone Bandit has confessed to four bank robberies. Turns out it was her boyfriend that she was talking to on that cellphone, he was her getaway driver. What’s really sad about the whole thing is her family had no idea that she had turned to crime, as they sent her here to go to college.

My mother told me once or twice that she worried about sending people to DC, that somehow the girls would end up power hungry and sleeping with politicians for influence, and how this whole town could corrupt just with the mere touch. This will only perpetuate those DC myths. Great.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

You ever feel like this whole city commutes in and out each day? Have you ever been the lone DC resident at your work, fighting for bicycle and bus benefits while everyone else wants more parking? Ever feel DC is empty on Sundays? Well, your perceptions are reality.

DC on Sunday

The 2000 US Census ranks DC as #1 in daytime population change due to commuting for any major city in America, with a whopping 72% change in working population each day. The 260,884 DC residents who worked in DC in 2000 were supplemented by 410,794 suburbanites commuting in for jobs, raising our overall population from 572,059 to 982,853 every day.

This daily flow is impressive to me, with a sea of headlights in the morning, rivers of taillights at night, and an odd calm in between both. Every so often, I dive into that flow and look around, thinking “so this is what a water molecule feels like in the Bay of Fundy. What does it feel like to you?

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

I can barely find any coverage of this, and it just seems wrong to me, so pardon the crappy metro listing when I tell you that the corpse flower is about to bloom at the US Botanic Garden.

What is the corpse flower? It’s a huge blossom (think Little Shop of Horrors) that happens to smell like rotting flesh. Yep, a giant, stinky flower. It’s exceedingly rare and the species doesn’t bloom all that often, but the US Botanic Garden has one and you’ll be able to go smell it for yourself on Sunday and Monday.

It’s fairly common for conservatories to provide webcams so you can see the stinky bloom without actually having to smell it, but what fun is that? No word yet on whether the USBG plans to offer the cop-out option.

The flower, also known as the titan arum, smells like rotting flesh to attract carrion insects to the bloom so they can pollinate it. You can read more about the stinky flower here.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Adrian Fenty is running for Mayor of DC. He’s also, as of this evening, asked for the city council to start the process to add a referendum to overturn the Congressional ban on a commuter tax, according to NBC 4 news tonight at 11. The problem here is thus: the Referendum is preaching to the choir. It’s asking DC residents to decide that the city has power to tax the people who work in the District, but don’t live there. Please note that last part. It’s asking DC residents whether or not it’s okay to tax people that won’t be able to vote in the referendum. So, essentially, asking them if it’s okay if they shake down those people who are required to come into the city for their jobs for half their tax money while their own schools and road suffer as a result of the neglect. Why gee, thanks DC, that sounds like a great idea! Isn’t it bad enough I pay double the sales tax on my lunch than were I to buy it in Clarendon or Rosslyn or Bethesda? Isn’t it bad enough I pay double for the tax on my beer and dinner after work? Apparently not.

But what about all those license plates? The ones that read “Taxation Without Representation”? The ones whose mandate seems to say “We’re getting royally fucked by congress”? That’s exactly what you want to do those commuters. Fuck them. Fuck their communities. Fuck their schools. Fuck their roads. We have no vote in the mayoral or city council election, those of us who live in Arlington or Bethesda or PG County or Annapolis and brave the trip into the city. We have no say in your process, but somehow you want a good chunk of our change?

No way. Nuh uh. Sorry, dude, that’s not how this government of ours works. I’m sorry that you’re getting fucked by Congress on this whole budget oversight thing, really, I am, but decades of corruption and mismanagement aren’t our fault. Remember, we can’t vote in DC. We live in Maryland and Virginia, we vote for our own politicians, pay taxes in our own communities. I’m for your right to representation in Congress, I believe that the framers of our Constitution wanted Federal Representation for all of the citizens, not just those who live outside the federal city’s borders. But that belief in representation as a function of taxation is grounded in the citizen’s right to participate in that process through exercise of their franchise, and DC will be committing the same egregious sin that they are the victims of.

Do not rob Peter to pay Paul, Councilman Fenty. It’s the wrong way to go about this.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

What would happen if some 20 or so inches of rain fell on DC in the span of a day or so? Hideous Catastrophe. What would happen if that flood was followed by a brutal winter like none we’ve ever seen before? Fifty Degrees Below.

He read tonight at the Borders’ Books in Bailey’s Crossroads from Fifty Degrees, from sections that describe the protagonists’ trips through a nigh-on post-apocalyptic Rock Creek Park in late fall (not far from today), and a part from the deep and frozen winter. He then took questions about his recent works, an attempt at transcription are below. Text is paraphrased unless marked with “quotes.”

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I’ve a confession to make. I’ve never actually been to a Beaujolais Nouveau party. I know it’s a big deal if you like young fruity French red wine, but somehow I always seem to miss it. If you’re a clueless Viking like me, here’s the drill.

The wine can’t be sold until the third Thursday of November, so it’s officially uncorked at midnight tomorrow. Starting late Wednesday night the traditionally fun parties are at Les Halles downtown and Bistrot du Coin in Dupont Circle – apparently this last one gets quite wild. Thursday night you can party at the French Embassy.

I once worked for a Frenchman, a Parisian no less. On the third Thursday he and a friend left for a “quiet” lunch at Les Halles. Three hours later they strolled into the office, giggling like schoolboys, with very conspicuously flushed cheeks. “We’ve been bad French boys,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, “But what can you expect? Le Beaujolais est arriv

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Candy, Candy, Candy. Why? Why oh why did you rob banks on your cellphone? We just want to know why you couldn’t hang up the important call with your mother and just rob the bank like a normal crook? We understand that it’s possible you may have been coerced by the two men that were arrested with you, but seriously, girl, Bank Robbery?

Better yet, why did you even bother to pay your HOV ticket when you’re about to become a wanted felon? That one I just don’t get…

But yes, the world is now safe from cellphone bandits, as Candice Martinez was arrested early this morning as the cellphone robber, down in Springfield along with two other men. Her immediate family was shocked and horrified, as they thought she’d come to stay with extended family members.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

“Let’s go see some art, ” my friend suggested, “I’ll be at your house in twenty minutes. Pick a place.”

That was a tall order for my sleepy Saturday afternoon brain, but luckily some googling brought up a recent Post article on the “Gyroscope” exhibit at the Hirshhorn Museum, and considering last week’s success with the Smithsonian, that was the winning choice.

“Gyroscope” is a rotating exhibit that highlights various works in seemingly haphazard groupings. It’s perfect for exploring a sort of “greater & lesser-known hits” of modern art. As you wander slowly through the rooms, the evocative pieces in various media are constantly challenging your eye.

Standouts for me were several skinny sculptures by Alberto Giacometti, a room of Francis Bacon’s luridly colored, eerie paintings, and an installation by Ann Hamilton called palimpsest.

It’s a small room filled with slips of yellowed paper – collections of memories – a beeswax floor that scents the room (to protect it, you have to wear dust booties to enter), and a glass case with snails slowly eating two cabbages. This piece divided my friend and I – he thought it was rather pretentious, and didn’t go in. I initially agreed with him, but then did go in. Once inside my feelings changed as the honeyed smell and the pencilled thoughts worked their introspective magic. The room took on an amber jewel-box allure.

Also intriguing was a multimedia piece that consisted of a short animated film projected from inside a medicine cabinet, images moving from the mundane to the imaginative as birds replaced bottles. I wish I’d noted the artist’s name, but by that point I was too hypnotised by the collection as we meandered quietly through…

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

How do you know that Emily’s Raging Birthday Celebration really was off the hook? When the Monday morning email from the host is:

Hello All! Hope you all had fun on Sat!! It looks like someone had so much fun that they left the house party with no shoes – a pair of strappy sandals were left at my place. If anyone has really dirty feet from going to Irish Times barefoot, send me an email!!

Okay, now barefoot at the Irish Times? Can anyone think of a worse dirty-floor bar to be barefoot in? Its so spilt-beer sloppy, I moved from the Constitution to the Independence WAKA kickball league just to get away from it.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

It’s rare that I find myself in epicurean Washington,
let alone socialite Washington. I try to stay out of Georgetown and off Embassy Row,
but today,
I went out to the Races. Taking the Toll Road west of the city to its end in Leesburg,
VA and up to Morven Park Equestrian Center for the 26th running of the Morven Park Steeplechase,
which is like Gold Cup,
only without idiots in popped collars trying not to look like douchebags,
and without the bizarro hat obsession that seems to follow that rite of spring. The weather was perfect,
sunny,
warm,
crisp and autumnal,
and the park itself was splendid,
a course along some rolling terrain with a perfectly manicured track and several amazingly cool horse jumps.

We walked up to the Hospitality Hill where tents were set up for various sponsors,
all overlooking the race course in its entirety. What a way to watch the races. We could see the entire of the course,
which you couldn’t do from rail-side,
and the experience was just amazing. The horses would glide by,
making graceful leaps over the jumps,
and make the turns in beautiful curves. While sipping some Oban,
I made a few wagers on the horses,
none of which panned out. Tiff’s sole pick came out victorious though,
netting us a whole $5. It was early,
still. The food good,
and the company well-dressed and well-learned. It was a grand day,
full of good weather,
better booze,
and catered cuisine. Leaving the races,
we drove back in,
stuffed and sated. So,
this is the sport of Kings. Excellent.

We met our friends Dave,
Jason and Beth in Georgetown for dinner,
completing my day of upper class excess in the city. We parked in our secret hidden space (what,
I can’t have a few secrets? If I told you where I could almost always park in that neighborhood notorious for parking problems,
I wouldn’t get to park there anymore!) and wandered the crowded streets with spare sidewalks. Past the superlative restaurants and upscale grocery/deli,
to the store you can smell from a block away,
and back past my favorite Piano bar. Pictures are downloading from my camera still,
or I would share a few,
but it was a good night,
and a rare one for me.

I am not a formal man,
nor do I dress with expensive style and aplomb. This town has so many places where the dress code is above my usual jeans and a polo shirt,
as evidenced by the Tabaq Dress Code Debacle seen on DCist earlier this week. I like places where the pretention isn’t the atmosphere,
which I suppose just reinforces that I am a West Coast Guy living smack in the middle of the East Coast. But sometimes,
just sometimes,
it’s okay to put your khakis back on for the weekend and rub elbows with the upper class. Even if I wish I was playing disc golf.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Ya know how, when you’re cruising along Rock Creek Parkway, yapping to your daughter as she robs banks in NoVA, your cell phone receptions fades in and out? Doesn’t that really annoy you? How can you keep her under your remote mind control or at least provide her with a great post-arrest defense?

Well I just found a handy map on T-Mobile’s website that tells you exactly how good their service is, down to the street level. If you look at the map to the right, you can see where the coverage fades in Rock Creek, and where it should be five bars strong.

Finally, a degree of honesty in cell phone coverage maps! Check out your own neighborhood and let us know – how accurate is the T-Mobile map?

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

When I first moved into my swank rent controlled apartment, I convinced my housemate the high-speed internet was a requirement. By the time he left, he was addicted to wireless high-speed internet. Now it seems like my whole building has caught the always-on bug. Check out the folks I can choose from if I’m just standing in my lobby!

Oh yeah, I’m such a Geek, I check email when I check my mail.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

As you know, today is Veterans’ Day. But did you know that Veterans’ Day is observed on Armistice Day, which marks “the 11th day of the 11th month” as the end of the Great War. It’s probable that no more than 50 veterans of that war are living today.

There’s a little-known memorial on the Mall to the residents of Washington, DC who served in World War I. It happens to be on the endangered list, which is shameful.

To visit this lonely Grecian temple, and meditate on that most senseless conflict which ended today but whose reverberations continue, go to the southern part of West Potomac Park, near the Korean and Vietnam War memorials.

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

This week my office is in the midst of PC transitions and upgrades, total chaos. Yesterday afternoon the IT tech booted me out of my chair and sent me off with an optimistic “it’ll take an hour. tops. really.” So, 3pm and time for a walk. But where could I go for a late afternoon hour downtown without the temptation to spend $$$?

Hmm… how about the Smithsonian? Why not? Museums are great for killing time. They’re not just for tourists!

I ambled the five blocks over to the Natural History Museum. It was relatively free of crowds, beyond the isolated packs of roving teens. Plugged into my iPod to avoid the sounds of their screeching, I meandered through the gems and minerals display on the second floor. I was fascinated by this display as a kid, especially the crazy minerals hall. There’s also the obligatory ogling of weighty tiaras and sparkling necklaces once worn by queens and maharanis. And of course waiting your turn to eye the Hope Diamond, somehow not as impressive as when I was a little girl and still believed the diamond propaganda. Then it was off to the bare bones rooms to detox from sparkle overload, looking at bizarre alien-like skeletons such as the manta ray.

It’s a well-known Washingtonian fact that the best presents can be found in the Smithsonian gift shops. Natural History has one of the most eclectic selections, from Eco-spheres to mother-of-pearl handbags. I picked up a b’day present for a friend and made mental notes for that certain upcoming holiday. Great stuff for hard-to-please people…

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

Seems the crazy NoVA crowd that thinks handguns = safety haven’t been to a Wachovia in a while. Else they could’ve stopped the best bank robbery gambit yet – the cell phone bank bandit.

Using her Samsung flip phone, a woman has knocked off four Wachovia’s in NoVA in recent weeks. Now I only wish I was a Letterman joke writer for this has comedy screaming to get out. What did she do, demand money or else talk louder and longer? She grab the teller’s phone and demand cash else she call Togo for two hours?

Nope, she apparently passed a note while still yapping, getting cash without even breaking up the conversation. The best comment from the Wash Post article:

He theorized that “maybe because she’s a woman, she feels less secure physically, and by talking to somebody, it makes her feel secure.” Or, Desroches added, “maybe she’s talking to her mother.”

Talking to her mother, eh? I wonder what she was saying?

Robber Mom, hi, I’m at the bank how much you want?
Mom Oh honey, you know me, as many 20’s as you can stuff in your bra
Robber Okay, you sure? I can get $50’s or $100’s – whatever you want
Mom No, that’s okay, it hard for me to tell dad those $100’s are from Bingo Night, and he likes the $20’s for his poker games
Robber Okay, I’m gonna get three handfuls today – last week those two handfuls didn’t go that far. I think they shorted me by adding $1’s and $5’s.
Mom Yeah, times are tough, these banks are getting cheap on you. Make sure you get good bills too – and no dye packets!
Robber Oh I hate those dye packets, they really stain my whites!

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs

My housemate and I are contemplating new furniture for the place now that we’ve ditched the Crossbow, and an IKEA run has come up as one option. Not wanting to burn a weekend, like Tom did, we were thinking alternate plans. Or well I was, Lyle just plain went insane with this missive:

let’s do it. let’s go to ikea after work and get some stuff to re-do the kitchen. i know what we need – i’ll be quick and easy. be back in time for going out or whatever else. here’s what i’m thinkin: we leave at 6, back by 8. not a lot of traffic up 16th street at that hour, 495 for 8 miles or so, in and out of ikea. back before you know it. we do it now and it’s done.

What! Hit 495 at 6pm for 8 miles? That’s two hours in its self. The fool is too green to DC to know any better, but I’m not about to endure the pain of rush hour while he learns the lesson – never drive rush hour! My better plan – Saturday morning, right when IKEA opens, before the madness starts, or late at night, right before it closes, long after the rush hour is gone.

If you had to go to IKEA – and we all hope we never do – when would you go? And which one is better; Potomac Mills or College Park?

This post appeared in its original form at DC Metblogs