Columbia Heights is the midst of a boom. At the Target, a lot of shelves are empty. This can only mean that people are buying stuff. New restaurants have opened up in recent months (a gastropub, a pretty great pizza place, the now ubiquitous Five Guys). Foot traffic has increased, etc. Its main drag may still be ugly as hell but it has more activity.

This is all to say that I expected much more from Columbia Heights Day. This is why I must respectfully disagree with Prince of Petworth’s assessment (”Columbia Heights Day — Good Times“). I hate to go negative on an event that’s just two years old. But C’mon! This did not feel like a celebration. It felt like a wake inside a Peckinpah film.

Full disclosure No. 1: I did not get to see the cupcake eating contest. Full Disclosure No. 2: I half expected rides. If you thought I was not exactly the CHD’s demo, you would be wrong (the cupcakes were vegan). The big disappointment is that the boring i.e. political outnumbered the fun. There was allegedly face painting (didn’t see it). There was a petting zoo (pretty cool, admittedly, but inferior to any county fair). And there was a moon bounce (smaller or same size of moon bounces found at any block party). The rest of the attractions for your CHD: Jim Graham and Patrick Mara (at least when I was there in the afternoon).

Kids of all ages do not find Jim Graham or Patrick Mara (I’m guessing here since he’s a newbie) entertaining. They attend these events because that’s where voters are–they shake hands, look “real” or “casual,” and pass out pamphlets that will promptly get deposited in the nearest trash can (not nearly enough at CHD).

Two things lacking to CHD that would have made CHD endurable: a well-kept field and festival food. By the time we got there, food consisted of dueling snowball makers and small samples of chips and runny guac. All this no food/no fun was held on a dirt field on the grounds of Harriet Tubman Elementary School at 11th and Kenyon Streets NW. The bands–not worth mentioning. I’m sorry but a guy noodling on a guitar like he’s opening for Merzbow doesn’t count.

Next time, organizers should block off some streets, take over a real field, and get some meat on a stick.

*photo courtesy of Prince of Petworth.

Last Sunday, the Redskins trumped trends, history, and conventional wisdom, with a victory over the hated Dallas Cowboys (”opening up the windows of heaven and letting God pour out his blessings“).

Was this a moment for gloating? Yes. Was this a moment to pump fists in your car as you listened to the locker-room interviews? Yes. Was this a moment to look deep into your friend’s eyes and allow yourself to wonder aloud if it’s time to start up some kind of Bandwagon? Yes.

Was this a moment to broadcast a racist remark about turban-wearers?

Well, no. That’s a violation of even extremeskins or sports-talk etiquette. As the Examiner reports (key parts bolded for your pleasure):

“A Metro operator’s Monday morning attempt to celebrate the Redskins’ win over the Dallas Cowboys offended riders who heard him equate turban-wearers with terrorists over the train’s loudspeaker system.

‘Don’t be afraid if you see a bunch of people wearing towels on their heads today,’ the Orange Line operator said to a train full of people, according to riders. ‘They’re not terrorists; they’re with the Dallas Cowboys. Go Redskins.’”

The Redskins may have the most racist name in all of sports. But fans need to comport themselves better! I love that the Examiner tries to explain the remark as something that just might be non-racist, non-offensive:

“Athletes whose teams are nearing defeat can often be seen throwing towels over their heads as they slump on the bench. But the allusion to the derogatory term ‘towelhead’ for people who wear turbans, and the implication that they are terrorists, offended at least two riders, who lodged complaints with Metro.”

Thanks to DCist for aggregating(!) this item.

DCist reports today that the relatively new and relatively hated why.i.hate.dc blogger has been fired. Did the Loaf purchase the blog? Nope.

It turns out the blogger, who we wrote about here and interviewed here, couldn’t find enough hate to produce enough blog posts. Hate monger Rusty explains:

Hello. Rusty here.

I tried e-mailing Liz to see what was up and I got no response. Which really was no surprise since she obviously gave up on this blog.

Just because I’m in a weird city like Columbus doesn’t mean that I still don’t hate DC. In fact, for some reason, mail being sent to me from the District isn’t getting to my apartment in Columbus. And what kind of mail should I be getting from DC? Why security deposits and paychecks of course! It might not be DC’s fault, but, come on, DC has always been a good scapegoat. Why stop now?

Well, as you probably have noticed, Liz didn’t work out. It was my mistake to select a writer instead of a blogger. Writers are awesome, but don’t necessarily want to write three times a week. We don’t need writers. We need bloggers.

This past week McCain/Palin held a huge rally in Fairfax. The McCain camp claimed that they had 23,000 people attending the event. That’s an Obama-sized number, a number that would signify a real swing in momentum for the republican ticket. Too bad it might not be true.

Bloomberg reports:

“McCain aide Kimmie Lipscomb told reporters on Sept. 10 that an outdoor rally in Fairfax City, Virginia, drew 23,000 people, attributing the crowd estimate to a fire marshal.

Fairfax City Fire Marshal Andrew Wilson said his office did not supply that number to the campaign and could not confirm it. Wilson, in an interview, said the fire department does not monitor attendance at outdoor events.

In recent days, journalists attending the rallies have been raising questions about the crowd estimates with the campaign. In a story on Sept. 11 about Palin’s attraction for some Virginia women voters, Washington Post reporter Marc Fisher estimated the crowd to be 8,000, not the 23,000 cited by the campaign.”

Found via TPM.

*McCain camp offers weird response to press inquiries.

*Quick update: Palin’s Bridge to Nowhere lie returns to stump speech.

At this point, I have to ask: Is there anything Sarah Palin said in her convention speech and stump speech that is not a lie? I doubt she’s ever field dressed a moose. I doubt she’s shot one. Her fightin’ that Bridge to Nowhere story–a lie. Don’t believe me, check out here, here, and here. [You'll note most of the media that's calling Palin out are local media from Alaska---not the timid mainstream press].

Her fightin’ wasteful projects? A lie. On not spending the tax payer’s hard-earned money needlessly? A lie.

Her selling that government plane on eBay? A big fat lie. She actually sold it to broker for a loss.

I know Obama will never call out Palin/McCain as serial fibbers. But he could and should frame an argument that they are exaggerators. He needs a coherent theme and argument. The exaggeration theme would do it.

It’s funny how after spending one night at Legg Mason, I feel like I’ve endured more than my share of crowd snobbery. Last time I was in attendance, Jimmy Connors was playing. So it’s been a while. But some of the crowd behavior was shocking–even in the bleacher seats!

*A few seats down the row from us, two ladies were in non-stop chatter mode during the entire Roddick match. I know Roddick is already a has-been more famous for having dated Mandy Moore and losing to Federer than actual important victories. But these ladies bordered on rude! It didn’t help that both had bad facelifts.

*A couple getting huffy that we were in their seats. Nevermind that the first row was completely empty. But by making a big stink, all six of us had to decamp and move up a few rows. This put a real damper on the funtimes as the couple continued to be all gloaty about it. I’m not sure why they chose to make this point considering that they had better options than ousting us. And much of the seating wasn’t even numbered anyway. The icing: the couple spent much of the Roddick match playing with their cellphones.

*And finally, the entire stadium’s instance on rooting for Roddick—even when the other guy made unforced errors. Isn’t it bad sportsmanship to cheer when the other guy whacks a ball into the net?

Despite all this, the Legg Mason crowd was still louder and more into the match than the crowds at National Park. Like Nats fans, they didn’t fill up all the seats. But they were better sports fans than the snoozy crowd at our new stadium.

There are words, phrases that you think will never enter mainstream usage. But every once in a while, I get shocked when a word or phrase suddenly goes legit.

Take “pussy.” I never thought “pussy” would become part of the larger world. Now even liberal TV comedians are dropping “pussy” like it’s nothing. “The Daily Show” dropped pussy more than once on Monday and Tuesday’s shows.There was the awesome joke about a straight–as opposed to McDonald’s–fast-food chain called something like “Fried Chicken and Pussy.” And Stewart himself seems to regularly call himself a “pussy.”

Now, Slate gives the world the “chubby” with this headline: “No Chubby For Old Men.” The story is on ED and whether or not it’s normal and why it’s perceived as normal. And maybe it shouldn’t be. But I only skimmed the piece. I’m still marveling at the fact that they brought “chubby” out in the open. I didn’t think getting a semi had become mainstream headline fodder. Wow.

I’m cool with it. Just surprised.

Oh, what’s next? Fisting?

Virginia Tech unloads a small document dump spurred by a FOIA and the terms of the June 17 settlement that sheds light on what school officials were thinking in the wake of the school massacre. The Post discovers: school brass were concerned about their image!

The Post writes:

“Within a week of the incident, one memo shows, university officials had developed a media strategy that centered on three main messages: ‘We will not be defined by this event,’ ‘Invent the future’ and ‘Embrace the Virginia Tech Family.’”

School administrators handpicked sources for the media and coached them, and graded published stories from a rating ranging from positive to negative. None of this is much of a surprise. I was there covering the tragedy. If you wanted to get beyond the press conferences and well-staged interviews, it was easy. V-Tech is a huge campus with thousands of students and faculty. There were plenty of people willing to go off message. And the Post did amazing work according to our media critic. But I don’t blame the school for trying to manage the tragedy.

Still. This guy really is naive. The silliest suggestion came from an administrator who tried to get the school to coin its own tragedy phrase:

“A two-page memo from Chris Clough, who works in the University Relations office, is dedicated to the language choices the school had to make.

‘We likely will live with the label ‘Virginia Tech massacre,’ or ‘Virginia Tech tragedy’ for years to come in the media, however, we can use our own language in our own media to help prevent the event from defining us and may gain success in influencing history,’ he wrote.

Clough offered three suggestions on how to refer to the killings. The first is the ‘West AJ/Norris tragedy’ because it ‘confines the incident to specific locations within the university and doesn’t allow it to completely define the university,’ he wrote. Then there is the ‘Holocaust Day tragedy’ because the shooting fell on the same day as the Holocaust remembrance day Yom Hashoah. Finally, he suggests, the ‘Best and Brightest tragedy.’

An IHOP opened in Congress Heights three days ago. Normally, this would not qualify as big news. The International House of Pancakes isn’t exactly a place of culinary wonder; its slogans are either corny (”An American Icon”) or sad (”This is My IHOP”). The sorriest thing in the world isn’t John McCain’s new ad featuring Britney or Fox’s morning show. It’s this video of a marriage ceremony performed at an IHOP. IHOP is no Original House of Pancakes (the best breakfast place of all time).

Still. The pancake/crepe/T-bone joint is the first major sitdown to open up in Ward 8 since forever. Or long before Barry used the ward’s council seat as his retirement fund. Zing! So Ward 8 finally enters the world of food–huge, huge portions, low, low price–made for old people and drunks.

The CW is that IHOP is a greasy spoon made somewhat depressing by the embarrassingly-named deals, super-sweet concoctions (it’s latest being an apple-cobbler-themed pancake special), and the fact that you must be hammered to consume such products. The food seems created by incredibly stoned evangelicals: wholesome turned vaguely unwholesome.

These are food stuffs mainly inhaled during the hours of 2 a.m. to 4 a.m. It’s dark outside and lonely inside. You only go to IHOP when you’ve struck out for the night. You aren’t getting laid. Fuck it, you go to IHOP, your drunken stupor made correct with eggs, sausage, bacon, three buttermilk pancakes, and bottomless coffee.

That was the Old IHOP.

The New IHOP is located on Alabama Avenue SE just inside the Camp Simms Giant parking lot. The New IHOP is bright, warm, inviting, clean, and boasts 37 cheery employees for every customer. The New IHOP has Karen: The Most Dedicated Waitress Ever.

Karen was our server.

When Karen approached our table, she glowed. This was her second night, she told us. Thank you sitting in her section, she told us. She is very excited, she told us.

My source I was eating with offered a nervous smile to all her replies. After she gave us our bottomless sodas and iced-Ts, she smiled some more. You guys ready, she asked.

My source wanted to know why she was so excited.

“I’m alive,” Karen said and then took in a deep breath proving she was alive.

OK.

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A week or two ago, I spent serious time commuting to and from Henson Ridge for a story on the struggling Hope VI community. As far as appearances go, the neighborhood is well-made, well-designed, and has some nifty new playgrounds. On closer inspection, teenagers still gravitate toward the decrepit rec center and crummy basketball courts, and have converted a set of jersey barriers into a hangout spot. Violence has inched up. Residents have started complaining about trash piling up at those new playgrounds, the lack of routine upkeep, and the need for more cops on their new streets.

There’s tension between renters vs. homeowners, grandmothers vs. bored teenagers, and residents seeking comfort and quiet vs. residents or visitors sipping the cheap stuff in public.

But what felt so much like the old housing project days wasn’t these gripes. It was hearing residents talk about the management company–Edgewood.

Of course, I didn’t interview every resident. And some I did talk to had no complaints and loved Henson Ridge. But there were others who shared a different history. There was the resident whose air conditioner had been broken for a week. She says she called Edgewood multiple times and even visited their offices in Henson Ridge twice. She was still without AC.

And there were the three residents who had bullet holes in their walls. Two of whom made reference to promises Edgewood had made to them. And still the holes hadn’t been fixed. I don’t know about you but I’d prefer a kitchen without a bullet hole.

Schnetia Green, 65, had lived with a bullet hole above her kitchen table for more than a month. She had complained but could get no one from Edgewood to fix it. Then I showed up at her door.

A few days after my story ran on Henson Ridge, she called to give me the good news. The hole had been fixed.

“It just got fixed Monday,” Green says. “But look how long it was open before they fixed it?”

Yeah. But that was before Washington City Paper came to the rescue, right? Did the management company, um, mention my story?

“They didn’t mention it,” Green says.

Very interesting. Edgewood not only fixed her pocked wall but they went ahead and fixed her droopy ceiling. They probably expected a follow-up expose! Right?

The on-going battle over vending operations around Nationals Park took a step toward a resolution this afternoon. A D.C. Superior Court judge ruled against three vendors seeking to halt the Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs‘ current practice of assigning vendors to sites outside the stadium via a lottery.

Judge Brook Hedge denied the vendors’ motion for a preliminary injunction against DCRA.

The vendors had serious gripes against the city agency for a number of reasons–some of which were sketched out in the motion, some were not. The city took too long in formulating a system for assigning vendor sites at Nationals Park, they say. After emergency legislation was passed for some 40 possible locations, DCRA awarded only 28 locations–and all the locations were north of M Street. Most of the sites would be lucky to get a handful of Nats fans let alone make any real profit. You can see the 28 locations with this handy map.

Another 14 sites had been awarded in a lottery last week. Those sites were closer to Nationals Park. Another lottery is scheduled for today.

Update 5:19 p.m.: The vendors had argued before the court that DCRA should not have held the lottery–that the D.C. Police Department should be in charge. There also needed to be more back-and-forth over the lottery process itself.

Judge Hedge wrote in her opinion: “Plaintiffs’ claims rest on shaky ground. Contrary to plaintiffs’ arguments, on April 23, 2008, the Mayor did issue a delegation of authority for the vending site and vending selections at Nationals Park to the Director of the DCRA…The proposed regulations do not require that non-R.F.K. Stadium-vendor-applicants be licensed prior to entry into the lottery.” The Judge went on to write that the vendors weren’t losing that much money since working the Nationals Park was only a part-time job. And that the vendors’ gripes were minor.

Judge Hedge wrote: “It is evident from the legislative history discussed above that this was a fast-moving situation and that, in order to maintain peace and tranquility, given the prior events which led to the vendor moratorium, and that the City Council expected vendor sites to be allocated for the full baseball season, that emergency regulations were necessary…”

This might be my final installment into the saga that is the life of Captain Melvin Gresham—a D.C. Police Department official who appears to always be in the center of intrigue and controversy. According to his civil-suit complaint filed in June, Gresham is a hero/whistle blower/all-around standup cop. To cop sources, he’s a supervisor who needs some leadership training asap.

“I had to bang heads with him, very disagreeable is the way he investigated things. He never has any proof. When we go to arbitration against him, he loses most of the arbitrations. We’ve had several arbitration hearings with our members and he’s lost. All the evidence is, ‘What I heard.’ Nothing ever of substance. He never has any real evidence against anybody. When you’re a policeman, you have to have solid facts,” says one veteran officer.

Gresham has his followers. Many of whom have commented on this post and our last installment.

The current Gresham dustup stems from a traffic accident. The allegation: Gresham got into a fender bender and pressured an officer to change the accident report in his favor.

In Gresham’s complaint, he addresses the accident on page 10, bullet-point No. 23. Or rather, he dances around the allegations, focusing mainly on picking apart the testimony and character of Lt. Mike Smith.

The complaint hones in on anonymous letter (was it written by Smith?), Smith’s believing that Gresham is a very rich man, and the allegation that Smith admitted to “tampering” with evidence. “Lt. Smith was off duty and had no actual basis for interjecting himself into the investigation,” the complaint states.

The complaint notes that the police department withdrew the charges against Gresham. “However, Chief Lanier insisted on serving Cpt. Gresham an official reprimand.” The reprimand addresses the very serious allegation of witness intimidation:

According to the complaint, the reprimand reads:

“Internal Affairs Agent Denise Garrett investigated the alleged misconduct. Agent Garrett determined that your demeanor and subsequent confrontation with the reporting officer was intimidating and may have jeopardized the impartiality of the accident investigation.”

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In our latest installment on the complicated life of Captain Melvin Gresham, we dip back into the complaint he filed in late June as part of his civil suit against the D.C. Police Department and other top officials.

[Wanna play catch up on this exhaustive blog series: go here, here, and here.]

I ended the last installment with a rundown over Gresham detailing a sexual harassment case brought by Lt. Rhonda Nunnally. In his complaint, Gresham had claimed to have stood up for her when she was allegedly physically assaulted by a “Lt. Delgado.” Gresham claims in the complaint that he was barred from arresting Delgado.

The complaint goes on to allege:

*Gresham’s help was sought in covering up for Nunnally’s attacker Phillip Graham. Delgado, the complaint states, leaped over Gresham on the org. chart going from an Lt. to an Inspector. “Cpt. Gresham was then assigned to Lt. Delgado in what can only be a retaliatory act,” the complaint states.

*In October 2007, two lawyers from the Office of the Attorney General met with Gresham. At this meeting, they allegedly offer him a promotion and a “prestigious assignment in Police Headquarters if he changed his testimony and DENIED that ‘he had been instructed to target Lt. Nunnally and drive her from the workplace.’ Gresham immediately ratted out these two lawyers to Nunnally’s counsel. Superior Court Judge Natalie Combs-Green refused to permit Capt. Gresham from testifying about this incident.

Green stated, according to the complaint’s transcript:

“I thought it appropriate to have a hearing, if for no other reason to permit the parties an opportunity in open court to briefly express themselves and to give the Court, quite frankly, the opportunity to express my disappointment at this type of filing.”

“Particularly, I guess, the type of language that was used in the filing and upon closer examination, the sort of, and I will make specific reference, careless throwing around of names in the pleadings, which could be injurious to the professional stature of all the attorneys involved, and which I think diminishes our system for all of us of justice.”

It gets better.

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Unless you’re a jerk, the yearly arrival of the giant pain in your ass known as the D.C. Superpages is not as welcome as, say, the SI Swimsuit Issue. Fear not, City Deskers! I have the answers!

To get off the delivery list, call 1-800-888-8448. Pick option No. 2. Wait for someone to answer. Tell her it’s 2008 now and you use the tubes if you need a number. Voila! NOW: They’re coming this week, so you better hurry up if it’s not already too late. If it is and you need to purge last year’s and this year’s, the Mayor’s Call Center promises the city will recycle the monstrosities if you throw them in with regular recycling.

Go forth and save the earth.

Photo by Rich Anderson

As promised, City Desk has more from the Captain Melvin Gresham saga. The first installment provided a recap of events and the detailing of Gresham’s lawsuit against the D.C. police and various named officials. Gresham cited the Whistleblower Protection Act and various alleged conspiracies to get him and other top brass.

Here are some more allegations Gresham puts forth in his civil suit complaint:

• Gresham accuses then-Assistant Chief Jose Acosta of ordering him to “set up” Commander Winston Robinson. Acosta allegedly wanted Gresham to “assist in sabotaging Commander Robinson’s leadership initiatives.” According to the complaint, Acosta told Gresham that the order was at the “behest of the ‘Chief’” and if he didn’t comply he “would be targeted.”

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