Snowpocalypse, or What You Will: Cultural Items to Be Consumed by Us at City Paper
While half the town spends the weekend on wordplay (Ed. note: What do you call sledding with strangers in D.C.? Snowcial networking! I know, OK, I'm sorry), the rest of us will be hunkered down indoors, twiddling with the thermostat and checking to see whether it's June yet.
Ah, we know what you're asking: But how will the Fabulous People at City Paper spend their snow-dusted Saturday? Wonder no further, readers; below the jump, please find our respective cultural agendae for the blizz.
Andrew Beaujon: My wife rented Zombieland from Redbox, so that seems like it's on; we still have a couple Spanish movies that we haven't gotten through, plus the Almodóvar box set I got for Christmas. Obviously the kids can't see those, so we've got a couple DVDs from the library for them. And Sunday is the Super Bowl.
Jonathan L. Fischer: Lots of board games, most likely: One neighbor has been agitating for a game of Risk: Lord of the Rings Edition, while another wants to teach me Settlers of Catan. Though I'm pretty sure people who play that game are in a cult.
Ted Scheinman: Whenever a proper blizzard sets in, I'm tempted to pull a first-scene-of-La-Bohème and burn everything I've written for purposes of 1) self-flagellation and 2) warmth. I'm spared this temptation in D.C., where my apartment has decent radiant heat and no fireplace. Instead, I intend to commandeer an old projector and play unusual film selections on the wall of said apartment. Tentative choices: The Hurt Locker, for reasons patriotic; Duck Soup, for reasons gastrointestinal; and the second Godfather, because my roommate has never seen it. Also, when it's snowy, I like to read desert stories, such as these.
Sarah Godfrey: Reading: I *just* got home from a Barnes & Noble run to pick up snow day/weekend reading materials. I've got Michael Chabon's Pulitzer Prize-winning The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay and Lauren Conrad's just plain ol' winning LA Candy. Sort of a highbrow/lowbrow thing going on. Guess which one I'll read first?
Watching: Seasons 1-3 of The Wire on DVD, and when cable networks inevitably start running Goodfellas on a loop, I'll watch that, too.
Amanda Hess: This weekend, I will employ the snowfall as an excuse to consume a collection of low-brow films and television episodes that I would surely have watched regardless of the District's precipitation level. On my queue: The Lost season premiere; the latest Gossip Girl; any Jan de Bont-directed action film made available through Netflix’s watch instantly feature. And seeing as I've recently revisited both Speed and Twister... Lara Croft Tomb Raider: The Cradle of Life, here I come.
Aaron Leitko: Back in the mid-'90s—long before The Kingdom of the Crystal Skull blighted his name forever—George Lucas scored one last victory among the nerd community with his computer game imprint, LucasArts. These days the company spends most of its time picking the dry corpse of the Star Wars franchise, but back then they ruled the shelves with original titles like Sam & Max Hit the Road, Monkey Island, and Grim Fandango. But LucasArts' finest hour was the 1993 adventure game Day of the Tentacle. The premise: A gaggle of college nerds travel through time in portable toilets to stop an evil tentacle from taking over the world. Or something like that. I loved it when I was 12. I'll be spending snowmageddon firing up a bootleg version of this CD-ROM classic.
Maura Judkis: Snowed in at my Logan Circle apartment, I'll be settling in with a pot of homemade soup and a copy of artist Adam Wallacavage's book Monsters as Monsters, lent to me by artist Trevor Young. Wallacavage's work will be featured in the show "Empty Time," curated by Young, who assured me that the opening at the Fridge tomorrow night is still on, so far. Later tonight, I'll be attending "Til Death Do UsPart," the art opening/nuptials of Dana Ellyn and Matt Sesow at Long View Gallery. Thank goodness the weather won't ruin their wedding. (Full disclosure: I wrote the exhibition essay for "Empty Time.")
Louis Jacobson: I've been reading the Rosemary Wells-illustrated edition of Mother Goose nursery rhymes to my two-year-old son. Recurring activity: pointing out which of the characters are Wells' other creation, Max of Max and Ruby. Favorite rhyme: The one where the sausage comes "running after me."
Steve Kolowich: I'm going to drink Dogfish Head, watch a shitload of Weeds, and then probably compose some mediocre prose. (As should we all! -Ed.)
Photograph by Darrow Montgomery