Looking for the Good in the Infuriating

According to the Infinite Monkey Theorem, given enough time, monkeys on typewriters should eventually compose a letter to me letting me know I've obtained the interim security clearance needed to start the job I accepted in June. Evidently, this happens right before they finish the last act of Hamlet, as they're still banging away as I wait for the ability to start my job.
Nonetheless, I forced myself today to look for some positive aspects of an otherwise miserable situation:

First, if I had been working already, I wouldn't have some across the practically mythical dog walker in our area, Raphael. You see, Raphael takes dogs on walks that last well over an hour per walk for the relatively paltry sum of $14 per walk. We had been paying another walker much more than that for walks that were 20-30 minutes. Plus, Raphael quickly schooled my hyper pit bull who loves to test anyone new we bring into the apartment. It was actually nice to see Jack go from "Crazed Tasmanian Devil" to "Submissive Puddle of Compliance" without Raphael even breaking a sweat. This alone could make having to wait to start work worthwhile, in the long run.

Next, as I was reminded today, I have been reacquainted with patience and perseverance. Now, it may not be by choice that I've honed these qualities, but they can come in handy, so I hear.

Third, when I start working, I'm going to have to dress like a grownup again. I can't lie and say that I haven't enjoyed spending the summer in shorts so far. I'm going to sweat like Anthony Wiener when his wife found his cell phone anyway, so I might as well do it in comfortable clothes.

Last, I've come to the recent revelation that, since I've had more time to devote to my part-time gig teaching Ethics at Southern New Hampshire University, maybe I have been a better teacher and provided something that will be of use to my students down the road.

Now don't get me wrong, I really want and need to be able to contribute more monetarily to our financial situation. But until the monkeys get their Shakespeare together, as least I have a few things going positively.

Because Speed Dating is Too Subtle

As seen on the 600 block of M St. NW

Executive branch representatives now taking rights away from my dog

It isn't enough to know who I call, when I call them, and where I am when I call. No, now you want to keep my dog from exercising his right to be comfortable. This power grab must be stopped!

Allow me to explain.

As we often do, this morning, my dog and I went for a walk to see my wife at her office close to the White House. As it was warm day, I decided to let Jack take a quick dip in one of the fountains in Lafayette Park on our way back, so he could cool himself down a bit. This wasn't the first or second time he's jumped in the fountain. Today however, the White House equivalent of Groundskeeper Willie jumped off of his riding lawnmower to run over and yell at us. He was rather adamant that Jack was not allowed to cool off in the fountain.
Because the fountain waters remind me of a witch's cauldron - green and with random objects floating around - I almost agreed that it was would be wiser for Jack to find somewhere else to cool off. Still, I didn't appreciate it that the Executive branch has turned to picking on my dog when there are a few, more pressing issues. Heck, even in the park, there are more pressing issues. What about the people who have figured out a way to live in the park, directly in front of the White House, without paying the outrageous rent that comes standard with living in the District?
You know, no one ever does anything when Jack jumps in the fountains in front of the Capitol. Then again, it seems no one does anything at the Capitol regardless of what's going on in the world around them...

NoMa, an Area in Transition

I was walking the pup over in the field at Pierce and First St. NE this afternoon when we came upon this scene. I didn't touch a thing. It perfectly illustrates the competing forces in the neighborhood.

I take full responsibility for doing the things I'm not going to tell you about.

I want you to know that I accept complete responsibility for my actions. I knew better and I did not live up to the expectations I place on myself. My school has decided to suspend me for (insert nebulous idea that doesn't elucidate, but makes things sound about as bad as jaywalking, e.g. "poor academic judgment"). I'm going to do whatever it takes to rebuild the trust of everyone around me, so I can get back to being the most privileged person on campus.
So goes the statement of currently-former Notre Dame Quarterback, Everett Golson.
From the statement, I can only guess that he showed up late for a test, forgot to cite a source in one of his academic papers, added when he should have subtracted, or threw a paper airplane in class. Those are poor academic judgments. I'm just glad he's taking full responsibility, even though he isn't owning up to what he did, which means he isn't taking full responsibility. I'm sure I just missed the part where he takes full responsibility by doing more than just saying so.
Meanwhile, SEC schools are licking their chops. Integrity - Schmintegrity. We don't care if we have to pay you to play, if you sexually assault women, or if you steal.
We're going to give you a simple test to see if you can play quarterback: You get three chances to spell S-E-C. We'll even let you use your iPhone for help. If you and Siri can come up with the answer, congratulations, you're a starting quarterback for the best conference in all College Football!
So don't you worry about coming up with fancy statements to explain your misdeeds, Everett. Come down South where the coaches can teach you how to be a real man.

You're Hailing a Cab, Not Stalking a Mouse.

Walking the pup around Mt. Vernon Square this morning, we happened to spy a woman who, ostensibly, wanted to catch a cab. Now there is no shortage of cabs around the Convention Center there, but this lady evidently enjoyed the "hunt" more than the actual "kill".
We watched three attempts at employing her less-than-successful strategy. Here's how it went:
She was standing on the corner. That was a good start. However, she wouldn't raise her arm until a taxi got parallel to her. By that time, the driver wouldn't see her, or it would be too late, as the driver hadn't even started to slow down. It appeared as though she didn't want the driver to know she wanted a ride until the last possible second, nay, until at least one second too late.
I have no idea if she ever got the ride she was looking for. She was amusing at first, but that quickly faded. We went on our merry way.
It got me to thinking though.
This woman's plight translated into a lesson I need to remember while job hunting: I can't sit around and try to catch a job opportunity as it passes by. I have to be proactive and make sure employers know I'm looking. I have to wave my arms and keep my eyes peeled, or someone else will grab my job. And I need to look like a good candidate. Whether it's a cabbie evaluating potential riders or an employer evaluating potential employees, it pays to look like you're the one to take a chance on.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a cab to catch.

My Dog is From Gallifrey

Having just moved from a house in Georgia, Jack has not had the occasion to use elevators until getting to D.C. The other day, we were on the elevator going up, when the elevator stopped to let someone out. When the doors opened, there were two small dogs waiting for an elevator going down. The dogs immediately started barking at Jack and got him riled up. The doors then closed and we continued to our floor. When the doors re-opened, Jack sprang from the elevator looking for the two assailants, who had mysteriously disappeared. As a matter of fact, everything looked different.
We had been somehow transported magically to an entirely new place!
This got me thinking. Jack is a big fan of Doctor Who and certainly knows about the TARDIS. Even though we have no idea if the elevator is bigger on the inside than it appears from the outside, it certainly seems to transport us from one location to another without seeing anything move.
Maybe Jack also thinks he is a Time Lord now. It must be pretty cool!

Crap Camel not nearly as fun as it sounds

So Jack encountered some tummy issues this weekend that necessitated a trip to the vet today at some point. I did my research and found AtlasVet, whom I promptly called this morning to set up an appointment.

In my mind, I had foreseen that we would walk right on over. I figured they would want a stool sample, so I was prepared that our first time out would be our walk to the vet. I would pick up his poop and carry it the relatively short distance right to the vet.

Well, I was right about one thing - they did want a stool sample brought in. However, the first appointment available is at 4:30 this afternoon. Jack can hold it in a long time, but not that long. Plans had to change.

Since he needed a nice long walk anyway, we decided to walk to Lafayette Square, which happens to be a five mile round trip walk. I brought along a backpack, poop bags, and multiple ziplock bags in which to seal said poop bags (to try and reduce any smell). Foolishly, I thought Jack might try to help me out and wait until we were at least half-way through our trip before providing me with a sample. Instead, he waited until we were about 200 feet out the front door before dropping the mother lode. Not knowing if he would go again, I had no choice but to grab his gift, triple-wrap it, and put it in my back pack. For the whole rest of the trip, I carried a lump of crap on my back. And let me just tell you, no amount of wrapping would keep out the stench. I walked 5 miles smelling like I had crapped my pants, while Jack, now two pounds lighter, walked ahead of me, happy as a clam. Any time we stopped to let people pet him, or stopped at a stop light, I know people were thinking that I was wearing a dirty diaper. Thank god no one was in the elevator with us when we got back home!
Now, said dirty bomb is sitting on out on the deck, thankfully sealed outside on a cool, windy day.

I sure hope we get things handled today at the vet. I don't think I could do what I did today, ever again.

Should I Tell My Doctor?

In between job applications, I've had a chance to catch up on a little TV watching lately. I've noticed numerous medication commercials, inundated with warnings. Apparently, people don't talk to their doctors enough. Here is just a sampling of the symptoms that, if you encounter, though you probably wouldn't think to, you should tell your doctor of:

• Difficulty breathing
• Tongue swelling
• Pregnancy, current or potential
• Diagnosis (by a different doctor, I would have to guess) of any medical condition whatsoever
• Heart failure
• Enlarged prostrate
• Trouble passing urine (I always think of my dog having to stop anywhere another dog has peed. I have not encountered this urge, but evidently there are people who do.)
• Kidney failure
• Numbness or tingling
• Loss of vision

The lesson here is clear people: We are all morons. When we visit our doctors, we all just sit around and talk about the weather and current events. We need to start talking to our doctors about medical crap. I know it's counter-intuitive, but our lives may depend on it.

Panhandlers are Pretty Smart

I've noticed over the past several days that panhandlers only ask me for money when I'm out alone or with my wife, but never with Jack. I wondered why this is and I think I've finally come to understand: People know how expensive it is to feed this dog. Panhandlers feel either feel sorry for me or just understand that I couldn't possibly have spare change on me when strapped to this eating machine.

Still other people cross the street when they see us coming, as they don't want to be associated with someone who spends so much money on "fur babies" when they could be spending that money on their own spawn. Even the people who comment on how handsome Jack is must be shaking their heads and making comments behind our backs about how much food this dog eats.

 In an effort to teach Jack the difference between us, his parents, and the Treasury, which he seems to think he lives at, I took him to the real thing, as seen below. I thought I had gotten through to him. As soon as we got home though, he was ready to eat again...

A Tale of Two Pities

Unfortunately, we were turned away at the Postal Museum today. Something about dogs' past with postal workers. The thing is, Jack has never shown any animosity to any mailman, woman, or child. A pity. As we were told by the manager at Dog-Ma yesterday, Jack is nothing, if not a people lover (he was also nice to the other dogs). Instead, we went to the Capitol and its fountains. He seemed pretty happy with that as an alternative.

It's just so easy to ascribe the traits and abilities of others who look alike, or whose backgrounds aren't familiar to you, as being the same as what you've heard. Prejudging is much easier than giving everyone a chance.

Similarly, when the job market is tough and the supply is higher than demand, employers seem to gravitate towards the same people with the same backgrounds as they've hired before. It's easier than speaking with non-traditional candidates and you cut down on risk - and reward. I would argue that, when there are tons of people with the same background (as there seem to be in D.C.), this is the exact time you want to seek out others with different experiences and talents. As I apply to numerous federal jobs that I, on paper, qualify for, I still find myself never being called in for an interview. I'm told online that I qualify and that my application has been forwarded to the "selecting official", but that's where things end.
I'm still optimistic that I will be able to find something where I can have a positive impact on the world, using my talents is a federal agency.  I hope it comes sooner, rather than later. Every day I spend taking Jack to monuments is a day I could be assisting an agency with its mission. A pity (though Jack may disagree).

Adventures in Driving and My Man, Spot

Driving is one of the things I meant to get away from in moving to DC. After this morning, I remember why. People in cars here are either oblivious to everything around them, or angrily honking at those people. If I had to drive often, I have no doubt I'd quickly become the latter. Don't get me wrong - driving gives you a chance to see things you might not otherwise get to see, like..... Well, I can't think of those things at the moment, but I'm sure they exist.

Anyway, I did get a chance to check in on my man, Spot, the spotter. You can see him standing in front of the column, beside the police car, looking up into the building across the street. Now, since he's standing next to a limo with an American Flag trimmed in gold, you might expect that Spot was looking out for terrorists, aggressive homeless people, or giddy tourists. But no, I hired Spot to be on the lookout for employment opportunities for me. So far, Spot hasn't come through with anything. Maybe I'll ask him to turn around and ask whoever is getting out of the limo to help him in his quest next time. Either way, I feel kind of embarrassed that I forgot to tell him that today was Casual Wednesday. Oh well - he looks so official in his suit.

If you see Spot goofing off, let me know. I don't pay him minimum wage to be some Peeping Tom.

Remind me why we did this - ?

Atlanta had so much to offer. My wife and I had a huge house north of town with a yard, a garage, a basement, and more bedrooms than we could ever put to use. She had a great government job and I had a thriving legal practice that let me work from home in my workout clothes on many days.
The cost of living was good. We had friends, family, and charity work we had become involved in.

In short, we had a great life.

But then an opportunity arose, as opportunities often do. My wife had an opportunity that, after a 5 year break, would bring us back to D.C.
She would make more money, but not enough to cover the difference in cost of living. We would have to downsize from our house with a yard for the dog, to an apartment where we weren't sure where the cat's litter box was going to fit. We would have to leave all the friends we had cultivated in Atlanta. We couldn't see my wife's parents on any given day, or go stay at their home in the mountains, just an hour north of our house. Sure, it would be a promotion for my wife, but I would have to wind down my criminal defense practice in Atlanta and start looking for a "real" job here in D.C. And let me just tell you - law firms, federal agencies, and non-profits are NOT actively seeking former criminal defense attorneys.

So why did we choose to come back to D.C., where we met when I was in law school and she was starting her government career? Because it's D.C.

Sure, there are challenges, but there's also opportunity. And I don't just mean career opportunity (God knows, I don't mean that), but the opportunity to take advantage of all D.C. has to offer. Where else can you walk anywhere you want to go? Where else can you meet such a diverse population? I'm sure some people are cold jerks, but most seem aloof because they're still kinda new too.

I'll miss family and friends, but there are these things called "airplanes" and "the Internet" that can keep people from falling out of touch. This will force us out of our comfort zone and make us reach out to meet new people - never a bad thing (unless you're in prison).

This blog will chronicle our readjustment to city life both the opportunities and the setbacks we face. Hopefully, by the time I write too many posts, I'll be writing about my new attorney job. If not, I'll be writing about what it feels like to wait table again.

Oh - and one more thing: Where else can you take a picture with your dog at the White House?