Brightest Young Things

signed, sealed and delivered to us by Michael last night, after 930, and The Cat, and some talking

"Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth. It's hot in the summer and cold in
the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, babies,
you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know
of, babies - 'God damn it, you've got to be kind.'" - Kurt Vonnegut.

So at the very last minute I get tickets to the Gogol Bordello show at
the 9:30 club. I'm excited, but not very, because I know they won't be
like they were at the Cat.
Ok, they were like they were at the Cat
because the sign of a good band is that they will be the very best they can
be at any venue. What I mean is that the crowd won't be like it was at
the Cat and what I mean by that is that it will just be too many
goddamned people.

And there were.

But it was a good show.

And after the show I go to the Cat (of course) and see the Detroit
Cobras, or at least their encore. Ok. I guess.

And the girl I am currently crushing on, though I freely admit it is a
completely irrational crush based solely upon her looks because I know
not fuck all else about her, is there and we speak briefly but not
intensely and anyone who knows anything about me knows that I. Like.
Everything. Intense.

So maybe I'm not crushing on her anymore. I guess I won't be able to
tell until the next time I see her. I'll let you know.

And I really really wanted to write about Gogol Bordello because Eugene
was a kind of friend of mine. I mean the dude has slept at my house
way back when they couldn't afford anything more than a rental van and
what little money they had for food had to go a very long way. And I
guess I'm happy for them and what they've achieved but the selfish part of
me wishes they were still playing to 100 people at the Black Cat and
we'd hang out and have brunch the next morning.

But it isn't so.

So I'm outside the Cat having a cigarette and there's some guy lighting
leftover fireworks in the street and people are half paying attention
to him and, I'm assuming, thinking it's kind of cool that there are
fireworks going off on 14th street a couple of weeks after the fourth, but
no one is really into it. You know what I mean? It's one of those give
or take kind of things. And I recognize the guy, but I couldn't tell
you his name.

So he sets off a few and then there's a pause, then he goes to the
trunk of his car and pulls out another one, sets it down on its side, and
lights it.

And it goes off.

And it streaks across the street and empties itself right into the bus
stop on the opposite corner of 14th and S. Right where a guy has just
sat down.

And it explodes in a shower of green stars, right in his lap, and then
makes its bang. That's like an orgasm for a firework. It's like the
firework came in his lap.

And the guy? Well when it first streaked across the street and landed
in his lap he batted it away, then it exploded, and you can't bat that
away. And he was enclosed on three sides with bus stop glass.

And everyone outside realized what had happened and all turned away
with that shock-mock-horror-mock-surprise-mock-fuck look on their faces.
Including me.

And I turned to look at him, fully expecting that he would start
cursing and screaming and railing at the privileged fucks shooting fireworks
at him, when all he wanted was a place to sit down for a moment.

Except he didn't.

What he did do... What he did do is calmly walk out of the bus stop,
cross the street, and continue down 14th south.

And he kept walking.

And not once did he turn around and offer up rage and curse and shake
fist and shake head and scream at what must have seemed to him the
ultimate insult to injury.

He just walked on down the street. And no one said a word. Sometimes
there's just a humanity in a moment. It's like in Gibbon where he
describes the gladiatorial games and how the Romans used to pit men against
all manner of beasts, especially elephants. And at one event, Gibbon
says, the gladiators had all but defeated the elephant after hours of
provoking and torturing it until the elephant crashed down on its front legs
and lifted its trunk in defiance, bellowed a final agonizing cry and
just sat there. And the crowd stood silent for a moment and then turned
their rage upon the gladiators and all they stood for and, we hope,
against themselves.

For a brief moment they were overwhelmed with the absurdity of what
they had become.

And, for a brief moment, so were we.

The guy who shot the firework said "It was a mistake, I didn't mean
it!" and got in his car and left. And again: "It was a mistake, I didn't
mean it!"

But he only said it to us, and not to him. Then he drove off.

And I stood there thinking for a moment or two, dragging the cigarette
and flipping it into the street.

And I remembered that there have been times when but for the
graciousness of friends I would have been that guy, just trying to find a quiet
place to sit down, for I wouldn't have had a home, or even a place to
stay.

I mean fuck, god, think about it. How far removed are you from the
street? One paycheck? Two?

DC is a city of homeless, most of them we never notice. Oh there's the
"got a dime" guy, and there's Black Cat Black Cat Bill, and Blevis, and
the leprosy lady who used to hang out at Union Station, and a few
noticeable others, but only because they're out there in the open, but
there are hundreds more that we never notice, and we never care to, either.

And it's so easy to dismiss them because we don't know why they're
there, and, frankly? We don't care. And I'm not blaming anyone, least of
all myself, because if we had to stop and care about everyone dealt a
shitty hand in life then nothing would ever happen. But I started
thinking: What if he came home one day and his house had burned down and his
family was dead and he just couldn't deal with it? What if he needed
medication and couldn't afford it? What if something so tragically
unsettling had happened on an otherwise perfect fucking day and he just simply
gave up?

And all he wanted was a place to sit down.

Now I can't blame the guy setting off the fireworks because I watched
him, and he decidedly didn't mean for it to cross the street and land in
the lap in the bus stop.

But it did happen, and no one said a word.

Ah fuck it.

I walked down the street after this guy figuring that at least someone
should tell him it was an accident, even if I had nothing to do with
it. I catch up to him at another bus stop on R St. I expected him to
scream. I expected him to curse.

I: Are you ok? That guy didn't mean to hit you with the fireworks.

He (in an eastern African accent): I didn't know.

I: No, really, he didn't mean to. It was an accident. He was setting
off fireworks, did you see them?

He: No, I didn't see.

I: Well he was setting them off and didn't see you. It was an accident.
Are you ok?

He: I'm ok.

I: Are you sure? It really was an accident.

He: I didn't know. I am ok. I am ok.

And so I turned and walked away. I felt it almost would have been an
insult to offer him money, some hush funds to not run to the cops, some
quiet monies to just take as a sort of payment for people having fun,
not at his expense, but at his expense.

Except I didn't have any, and I knew it would have been insulting.

Dude's sleeping in a bus stop, or trying to, trying to forget whatever
it was that got him there, trying to figure out a way to stop from
having to be there, trying to make his peace with the world and figure out
just what in the fuck he's here for - and let me tell you, it's
goddamned hard to figure out just what we're fucking here here for sometimes,
least of all when you find yourself sleeping in a bus stop.

But he's ok he tells me. We're all ok we tell each other

Previously in I Heart DC:

• 5/24: DC NEWS YOU CAN (MAYBE) USE...
• 5/23: DC News You Can (Maybe) Use
• 5/23: BYT Patio and Outdoor Dining Guide - Spring/Summer 2012
• 5/22: DC NEWS YOU CAN (MAYBE) USE...
• 5/21: DC News You Can (Maybe) Use
• 5/21: PHOTOS: Artomatic 2012 Opening
• 5/18: DC NEWS YOU CAN (MAYBE) USE...
• 5/17: DC News You Can (Maybe) Use
• 5/16: D.C. NEWS YOU CAN (MAYBE) USE...
• 5/16: Photos: Dance In The Circle @ Dupont Circle