Nissan Pavilion is Dead to Me (For Now)

I sent this letter to Nissan Pavilion after an unhappy concert experience there this last Sunday. If I receive a response from them or the Virginia Department of Emergency Management (who also received a copy of the letter) I will post it here.

=====
Adam Gerard
[my address]
Washington, DC 20009

May 13, 2008

Nissan Pavilion at Stone Ridge
7800 Cellar Door Dr.
Bristow, VA 20136

To Whom It May Concern:

I attended the Sunday, May 10 Radiohead concert at Nissan Pavilion and I am appalled at the lack of preparation on the venue’s part for emergency weather conditions. With over a decade’s experience in organizing outdoor shows, your poor preparation for the storm that hit the DC area on Sunday is simply reprehensible. The result of this lack of foresight created an environment for concert goers so unsafe that I will not attend another concert at Nissan Pavilion until you have addressed these dangerous conditions.

The rain was not a surprise. Weather reports accurately warned us of what was to come including flood warnings throughout the region. You know that due to the design of the pavilion, flooding is a possibility. The venue should have been ready with trained staff prepared for potential flooding along with a contingency plan to help concert goers enter and exit as safely as possible. But it was clear that there were no special preparations for the weather. Attendees were left to completely fend for themselves. Just one example: the concrete walkway behind the 300 sections of your venue was flooded with water rising up to my ankles. Many people tried to exit out the front of the venue under the cover of the pavilion which had a clear path to a non-flooded and paved walkway. But your staff refused to let us through, telling us all to turn around and guiding us directly into the flooded walkway.

And the unsafe conditions continued. There was a complete lack of crowd control, no signage I could see guiding concert goers back to the parking lots in the dark and rain, and due to a lack of walkways, people shared the road with frustrated drivers who were just starting the multiple-hour trek out of the Nissan Pavilion grounds.

This is unacceptable and is an embarrassment for one of the premier concert venues in the DC area. I don’t expect a refund; I saw the concert that I paid to see. But I demand that you take actions to address the problems that have come to light as a result of this concert. Until this has been done, I cannot feel safe attending a concert at the Nissan Pavilion.

Sincerely,

Adam Gerard

cc: Virginia Department of Emergency Management

Unthankfulness

Yes, it's Thanksgiving time and we're all very thankful for things like friends and family and cute dogs and lollipops and Miller High Life 6-packs being so damn cheap. But I think during this time of year we should also declare the things we are unthankful for.

So here are 10 things I am NOT thankful for on this Thanksgiving:

1. Lee Greenwood
2. Everyone who thinks "God Bless the USA" is a great song. Actually, even if you just think it's an "okay" song, I'm still unthankful for you.
   Yes, I could combine numbers 1 and 2, but I am that unthankful for both that I felt they each deserved their own slot.
3. Really terrible toilet paper. It's called Charmin Ultra, people. Look it up. They ain't kiddin' about the "Ultra" part.
4. People who eat a meal for lunch like a Big Mac, a family size bag of Doritos and an entire box of Oreos (mmm, "double stuf." And no Google, I don't mean "double stuff!) but then wash it all down with a diet soda because they don't want the extra calories. Maybe I'm not unthankful for them, just confused, but they're going on this list anyway. Madame Pepperman, my 11th grade French teacher that was addicted to Diet Mountain Dew, I'm looking directly at you here.
5. The term "Double Stuf." Oreo, why did you leave an "F" off of "Stuf?" I'm not a parent, but if I were, I would hate to have to explain that one to my child. Shame on you, Oreo!
6. People who stand on the left side of the escalator in any DC Metro station. WALK LEFT, STAND RIGHT! People that live in DC complain about this so much that it's almost cliché. But that is because this is common sense. And you're not all tourists! Some of you live in the DC Metro Area and still stand on the left. How do you not hear the rest of us complaining about this? We're annoying as fuck and we're whining about you! If you listen, we'll stop our whining.
7. Not only am I unthankful for the fake Krispy Kreme in Dupont Circle, but the Fractured Prune that opened up down the street has now closed. My mom has always told me that the doughnut Gods have a reason for everything, but this one has been really hard for me to deal with.
8. The color teal.
9. People who got angry with Ann Coulter for calling John Edwards a "faggot" but feel it's okay to attack his manhood by calling him a pansy. If these flowers could voice their outrage at the derogatory use of their name, there would be much more public outcry at this practice. Also, little known fact: John Edwards is a 3-time Ultimate Fighting champion. "Pansy" or "faggot?" Maybe. Could he kick your ass in a no holds barred fight to the death? Most definitely.
10. Those push button sinks in my office building bathroom. We are all adults in this building. There is a number combination on the door to keep out all the bathroom roaming ne'er-do-wells. Are you really that concerned about the tenants of the building running wild with the sinks that you have to keep us limited to about 5 seconds per push? It's impossible to wash your hands properly with these things. And not only is it unsanitary, but it's un-American. Yeah, I'm going there; if we are forced to wash our hands in 5 seconds or less, the terrorists have already won!

Are you unthankful for something as well? Tell the world in the comments!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Why Don't We Have That Kind of Relationship?

My apartment building has a security guard that sits behind a desk in the main lobby and makes rounds in the building during off hours. The one security guard in the building ends up being a rotating set of repeating faces. They are all friendly enough and we talk constantly, exchanging salutations and schmoozing about the weather or about how we're doing or about the package I have waiting for me in the leasing office. We're all very close, or so I thought.

Yesterday morning on my way out the door one of my fellow tenants saw the security guard on duty and the two of them had a bit of a moment, doing one of those manly hand shake/friendship things, grabbing each other's hands, pulling each other together and gently bumping. One of them might have even thrown in a, "Good to see you, man!"

Then today I walked in to hear another tenant spilling his guts about his failed long distance relationship while the security guard on duty sat behind his desk listening so intently. I almost felt like I was intruding on someone's session with their psychiatrist.

But now I'm a bit jealous. How did the other residents build these relationships with the security guards? I hear people talking about family and kids and now ex-girlfriends. How do you bring that up?
Me: I have a package.
Security Guard: Oh, here it is. [hands me package] Anything else?
Me: No. Oh wait. I've always felt my mom loves my sister more than me.
Security Guard: [gesturing downward] Please, take a seat. That must be quite the burden to hold inside all these years...

Is it that easy? Am I just a cold prick? And once we've discussed our personal lives, does that mean I have to have this deep conversation every time I walk by? Or any conversation at all? It seems rude to open up one day and then just nod the next. Because regardless of how cathartic my security guard session is, sometimes I'm just going to want to walk to my apartment without saying much. Or I'll want to walk downstairs to do the laundry, and that's it.

Do I sacrifice that freedom for friendship? Those other tenants looked so happy. That manly friendship embrace — I want that. If only there were a friendly ear to bend about my dilemma.

Oh but there is, waiting for me right outside my door.

My Lunna and Me

Lunna and I have both been so busy lately that we haven't had much time to hang out. So we decided to take a few days off of work and spend some time together, just the two of us. And finally we got outside of the house with one another for a change!

It really ended up being some special times. Luckily we hired our own photographer to capture the memories.

Opening Day to see the Washington Nationals!

We enjoyed the nation's pastime while enjoying our own pastime of sitting and eating hot dogs...together. Lunna laughed at me when I got mustard on my nose. How embarrassing!

Lunna loves Disney movies so I bought her tickets to Disney On Ice: Lion King.

The costumes were beautiful. Unfortunately, Chia Scooby snuck in with us and I got a little angry; we could have all been kicked out! Lunna is always so good at calming me down though. I've gotta watch my temper.

A few years ago, Lunna came out of the "living room," so to speak. You go girl, be proud of who you are! Well, this year thanks to the timing I had the honor of joining her and her pals in the Capitol Pride march. Boy was that fun. What a bunch of crazy gals!

You probably can't read it in the photo, but my shirt says, "Corduroy is gay." And now Lunna is reupholstering herself in rainbow corduroy. I guess I'll have to buy a more colorful rug for the apartment to match.

And finally we tried to stay up all night outside the big, scary Scottish Rite building.

Lunna really knows how to tell a good ghost story. It's a wonder I ever got to sleep. Who am I kidding, it's no wonder. Lunna is so comfy!

On the last day of our adventures together, Lunna surprised me with this t-shirt she had made for me.*

I am a LUNNA-tic! Isn't she just the greatest chair a boy could ever have?!

* — Lunna had a little help on the shirt from her friends at Current Configuration, R Design and some unnamed sources.

50 Air Guitarers Can't Be Wrong

"You haven't lived until you've seen the sun set over the Rockies."
"You haven't lived until you've felt the rush of jumping out of an airplane."
"You haven't lived until you've ran with the bulls in Spain."
"You haven't lived until you've seen 50+ people on stage all air guitaring their hearts out to Lynyrd Skynyrd's Free Bird"

Well, I have officially lived. Last week as part of the grand finale of the Washington, DC Regional US Air Guitar Championships, I witnessed a mob on stage at the 9:30 Club air guitaring through every second of Free Bird. Yes, that kind of air guitar. And yes, it was an actual competition. With judges. Heck, this was just a small potatoes regional championship. The winner of DC competes in New York City at the US finals. And the winner there competes at the World Championships in Finland (for the chance to win a real guitar, that as it was pointed out, the winner will likely not know how to play).

Here's how it worked: in the first round 24 people got up on stage one at a time and air guitared for a minute of a song of their choosing, and were scored by the judges. The five best scores moved on to the second round (scored like figure skating, which as we all know has a high score of six. Wait, am I the only one here that knows that off the top of my head?). At that point the finalists heard a surprise song together and in order of their scores improv'd air guitar to the music. Add up the scores and we have the best fake guitarist that will be representing DC in the US Championships.

Before you ask, YES, there is clear difference between the good and bad air guitarists. Performers can apparently even have that hard to pin down "it" quality, even if they are holding nothing but air in their hands.

For example, the first performer on stage gave it his all. He had the energy and the moves, the tight pants, he even had the mohawk hair. But he just tried too much too fast, ripping off his coat and immediately "playing" his "guitar" between between his legs, behind his back and even with his tongue. Impressive moves, but he wasn't feeling the music. Much later, the audience was treated to the real experts. One performer came out in a flannel shirt and straw hat slowly rocking to a twangy tune (in the same genre as "The Devil Went Down to Georgia") and built his performance up as the music picked up, eventually pulling an air fiddle out of nowhere and jamming with that too! The crowd went wild! (for the record, you must focus on air guitar during your routine, but other stringed air instruments are allowed as well). Another competitor threw his air guitar into the air, did a somersault and caught the guitar, ALL WITHOUT MISSING A BEAT (and without his air guitar evaporating into thin air)! And yet another...oh, just watch this video (he eventually went on to win).

From start to grand finale — which you can experience yourself thanks to video taken from the chaos on stage — this was all a sight to behold (seriously, everyone was air dedicated for the entirety of "Free Bird," which must be something like 87 minutes long).

But there is one problem. There were no female competitors (at least in DC). I know women can air guitar it out just as hard core as the men. I've seen you in the crowd at concerts; I've seen you in your cars at stop lights and traffic jams. Air guitaring women of Washington, DC: I'm calling you out. Let's see you on stage next year!

And remember, Make Air, Not War!

photo taken by flickr user dtnemail

Bikram Yoga is Sweaty

The invite was innocent enough: Do you want to come to hot yoga with me today for the 4pm class? Sure, let's check out this "yoga" thing all the hippies are raving about. Little did I know that a mere hour later sweat would be seeping from every pore on my body.

Let me be clear just in case you are skeptical the next time you hear about Hot Yoga (I'm refuse to call it "Bikram Yoga." That seems deceptive. It's hot, so that's what I'm going to call it). This class was the sweatiest 90 minutes of my life. My shorts, the only thing I was wearing, were drenched. When I was done, my towel that I'd been standing and lying on felt like it had been dunked in a pool. I had a view of myself in the mirror the whole time, and though I have to say that I looked damn good doing the various stretches, I could also see the sweat pouring off my body.

I should have known how serious this would be when my friend told me the room would be 105 degrees. That's just not natural for people to flock to. That's the type of heat you run from while thanking Mr. Carrier for inventing the air conditioner. Still, here I was paying good money to workout in the heat for 90 minutes?!

Then when I told the instructor this was my first time, her only suggestion to me was, "Just focus on getting used to the heat. Don't try to do anything else." How could that not frighten me a little? But at that point it was too late.

And yet, I might go back. I definitely felt relaxed afterwards (if not a bit woosy and very drained). It certainly was a workout like none I've ever had; my heart rate went up, my breathing got a little heavy and yet at no point did I feel like I was exerting myself. Plus, I made it out alive. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? And in this case, it also makes you more flexible.

A Moment With Krispy Kreme

Fellow Voters, I need a moment alone with Krispy Kreme, if you wouldn't mind. Feel free to avert your eyes, step out of the room, whatever you need to do. Krispy Kreme and I need to have a conversation just the two of us.

Krispy Kreme, I love you. You know I do. Which is why I've decided to be honest with you. I cheated yesterday. Right in your own back yard. And I loved every second of it.

Baby, don't get that look on your face. We've talked about this. A few times. And yes, it's that new store in town you were all worried about, The Fractured Prune. When you asked, I said I didn't care about her donuts (she calls them "donuts" by the way, not "doughnuts." I know how you hate that). I said I prefer your hot glaze over her hand-dipped. "All those toppings and crazy 'specialties' are just for show. No one can match your basic hot glazed, baby!"

But from the moment I walked in to her store, I knew this was going to be special. All the glazes ready for dipping. All the toppings in a row. And when they yelled, "first timer!" and handed me an O.C. Sand (honey glaze, cinnamon sugar), I felt so special. Like they wanted me there.

I ordered the Reese Cup (peanut butter glaze, mini chocolate chips) and my friend ordered the Peppermint Patty® (mint glaze, mini chocolate chips). And let me tell you, they were wondrous. The Fractured Prune, she makes the donuts fresh and tops them after you order. So the donut is still hot and the frosting is still oozing when it arrives at your table. But really, it's the donut that is so special. It is baked (in the store) to be crispy on the outside but soft, warm and a bit cake-like inside. And so moist.

Krispy Kreme, I think we can work this out. We've been together far too long to just give up on us now. But you've gotta be real with me. No more fake doughnuts and pretend hot glazing. And until you can promise me that, I think it's best that we see other people, at least when we're in Dupont Circle.