January sun was warm in Washington on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. It caused me to slip the jacket from my shoulders as I walked on New Hampshire Avenue. There were no eviction piles of possessions along the curb this week, as there were in November. Instead, Christmas trees had been put to the curb, waiting for some special truck to take them away. Only one of the three adjacent townhouses for sale in November still has a sign out front. Perhaps it’s evidence of economic recovery, at least among the DC townhouse set.
From the stereo in the coffee shop, I heard Professor Longhair whistling “Big Chief” and was reminded that Carnival season has begun. Carnival, which some people think is limited to Mardi Gras, is one of the oldest human rituals. Historian Karen Armstrong traces its history back to the Babylonian creation story.
In that story, the gods overcame the Earth’s initial chaos and established order. In the Babylonian springtime as the Earth was renewed after winter, the gods (and the king) had to annually reassert their power, so the king was symbolically dethroned, chaos (in the form of unfettered celebration) reigned and in the end the king (and gods) were re-throned and order was restored.
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Not Measured By Length
In the autumn of 1987, I canvassed Kensington, Maryland on behalf of the US Public Interest Research Group. I was talking to citizens about acid rain. (Seems almost quaint now.) Canvassing’s a tough job. You get many noes for each yes and you have to keep a thick skin about you.
At one house, the father answered and said his family was eating dinner, which was usually a reason to send me away. Instead, he invited me to the table and asked if we could have a conversation about the environment with his wife and sons. It was one of those experiences that made the job worth while.
Better still, the elder son – Tony – came and canvassed for me the following summer. He was 17 years old, tall with a big jaw and glasses. He was a bit dorky and it was clear he had not yet accommodated himself to his new size. He was like a colt learning to run. Tony was not the best canvasser in the office that summer, but I took particular pleasure watching his progress. Although I was 27 (it seemed old at the time), I took an avuncular interest in him. It was like watching a coming-of-age movie.
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