JOURNALISM IS a tough gig. We have to go undercover, posing as Playboy bunnies and security guards. And on some assignments — like this one — we have to eat cupcakes.
You see, our fair city has recently fallen prey to a cupcake craze, with the opening of two new cupcakeries since February — Georgetown Cupcake and Hello Cupcake. So we decided to see whether these new cupcakes were truly superior to the old D.C. standby, Cakelove. We gathered warily around ominous square boxes decorated with pink and beige stickers. And then, the delicious carnage began.
Continue Reading "Lion of the Dessert: Rating D.C.'s Cupcakes" »
AS AUTUMN gently settles upon our shoulders — a cool breeze here, a rain shower there — and slowly but surely chases away the stifling heat of August, you may find yourself yearning for summery activities.
You want to be outdoors and connect with nature, but you're no longer willing to trek somewhere and go camping when it's probably going to rain anyway. But if you're looking for a connection to the earth that will also keep you healthy, try farmers markets. Local food uniformly tastes better and makes you feel better about patronizing community vendors — though you may not feel as good about paying $6 for a loaf of homemade bread. There are farmers markets throughout the region, but here are a few to get you started.
Continue Reading "To Market, To Market: Finding Farmers Markets in D.C." »
YESTERDAY WAS yet another 9/11. It wasn't like the original, which was a flurry of horror, conjecture, sorrow and fear. Nor was it like the second one in 2002, during which we learned that the old hurts from the first were closer to the surface than we'd realized.
Nor was it like the third. Or fourth. In fact, by the time this Sept. 11 rolled around, the day had, in my mind, become what it was destined to be: an indelible moment, sure, but one whose impact had weathered with time.
Then, while at work, I saw photos of the memorial to 9/11 victims that had just opened at the Pentagon.
That struck a chord.
It's easy for people to see the Pentagon as a cold, concrete edifice — easier still because it houses the most powerful military machine the world has ever known, mighty enough to destroy everything alive several times over.
For me, though, the Pentagon is where Dad works. Always has been.
As I grew up and moved from my native Virginia 'burbs into the city, I oriented myself by the Pentagon. I parked there to ride the Metro. I cooled my heels at its bus hub. Even though I roamed its rings only once that I remember, at the age of 9 or so, I felt a connection to it — it's where my father has spent most of his days since Richard Nixon was calling the shots.
MY FEAR OF DOCTORS hits all five senses.
At the sight of needles, I start looking for the nearest vomit venue. The smell of hospitals and medical offices (Mr. Clean + urine) makes my skin crawl. The phony earnestness in a nurse or doctor's voice, the taste of a plastic thermometer, the touch of cold stethoscope against bare back ... shudder.
Another thing I'm skittish about is change.
I like my comfort and I like routine, too, but then I stepped out of my career comfort zone and accepted a brand new job, with brand new health insurance. Then HR informed me that I needed to choose a new doctor.
Um, what?
For someone who has "high maintenance" stamped all over her medical record, this is no easy task.
Continue Reading "Hippocratic Oaf: Finding a Doctor With Google" »
FOR YEARS, ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION was one of those hush-hush ailments that had no place on the airwaves. As time has passed and various social taboos have been lifted, it now seems that every other ad on television deals with what is apparently the single greatest medical crisis of the modern age.
Some companies sneak around what their product does, preferring not to offend anyone, while others bludgeon the viewer with innuendo and Broadway tunes, possibly rankling some but certainly entertaining more.
Here, we examine the commercial advertising methods each of the major E.D. drug companies have taken, looking at four main points: the advertising angle they've chosen; their ads' enduring image; whether you can tell what's being advertised if the TV's been muted; and how effective the ads are in the end.
From smooth-jazz soundtracks to boisterous Elvis covers, hand holding and nuzzling to wild neighborhood block parties, each company has its own way of tiptoeing around this socially sensitive, but highly lucrative, issue.
A NEW KIND of rage has descended upon the D.C. area: cardboard cutout rage.
Specifically, cardboard cutout likenesses of presidential candidates.
Take one recent incident at the America! store at Reagan National Airport, where cutouts of nominees John McCain and Barack Obama beamed at passengers struggling with their luggage. A commotion ensues: McCain took a pummeling at the hands of a pint-sized rival — a boy of 7 or so — whose cell-phone-glued father boasted, "I taught him well."
Cardboard McCain's experience paled in comparison to a certain former primary candidate, according to Alexis Garrett, an employee at America!'s Old Town Alexandria store. "The Hillary cutout we used to have: They beat her so bad she couldn't stand up no more," she said, shaking her head. "They poked her eyes out."
THE NATIONAL MALL is a place for big parties, and this weekend the party is the Black Family Reunion. It was established in 1986 as a celebration of the African-American community in the U.S., and it's been going strong ever since.
The two-day festival will feature performances from Fantasia, Tank and Jason Champion, among others.
» The National Mall between the U.S. Capitol and the Lincoln Memorial; Sat. and Sun., 12 p.m.-8 p.m., free; 202-737-0476. (Smithsonian)
Image courtesy Black Family Reunion
IT ALL STARTED last night while I was watching Laura Bush speak.
As with any political convention — Republican or Democrat — the crowd went wild at all the appropriate times. Mentioning President Bush? Check. Talking up John and Cindy McCain? Check.
But unlike the Democratic convention, which featured a cacophonous cascade of whoops and hollers, at this convention, one voice cut through the crowd like a tuba in a room full of piccolos.
Its source: Some guy. Its message: "Yay!"
The voice became so omnipresent at times that I muted the TV to be sure that a neighbor wasn't pleading to be released from a locked closet or that my cat wasn't gagging on a magic marker.
But no. It was some dude in St. Paul. And his shouts of affirmation were everywhere.
They began right away for Mrs. Bush, at 00:00 on the video above. Then at :10. Then at :20. When she piped up in support of vice presidential nominee Sarah Palin, so did Captain Yay — he even elongated one "yay" at 1:51 into a "rah rah rah" kind of sound.
He yayed when she mentioned President Bush at 3:31. He's a fan of Chief Justice John Roberts and Justice Samuel Alito, too — he yayed for them at 4:54.
Labor Day is over, and it's likely that every school in America is back in session now. Even though Paul Vivari is out of school, he can't quite get over the experience — which is why he's compiled a "dos and don'ts" list.
DO decorate your locker and make it an extension of who you are, which in your case means you'll probably just neglect it until everyone forgets it's even there.
DON'T be forced to eat gross, unhealthy cafeteria food; remember to pack your own lunch of five bags of Hot Fries and your peanut butter and Splenda sandwich.
Like it or not, what you wear says a lot about who you are. So what does your thrift store dress and lavender-striped leggings say about you? "DON'T invite me to prom."
FACT: Viewers love tension. The Democratic Convention crackled with the possibility that at any moment the Clintons might decide not to endorse Obama, that Joe Biden might stumble over his (or someone else's) words, that the very fabric of the Democratic Party might be shredded in the industrial fan of egos and stress and red, white and blue streamers.
The tension at the Republican convention has a similarly primal, but less controllable, source: Hurricane Gustav, which raked the Gulf Coast on Monday. How much of a convention there will be and what form it will take is still up in the air. And the storm's similarity to Hurricane Katrina has meant that many voters have their eyes trained on New Orleans rather than the convention site in St. Paul.
But we're Washingtonians. When John McCain, Sarah Palin and the rest of the GOP team take to the cameras, we'll be poised to listen. Here are some spots where you can convention-watch with company.
Continue Reading "Grand Old Party Down: Where to Watch the GOP Convention" »
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