This afternoon, as regular readers of this Web log can readily imagine, my dear brother Rob Roy invited himself and his son Jason over to my home in Great Falls, Virginia, to watch the World Cup Championship on the oversize HDTV in the furnished basement. And to avail themselves of my extensive collection of world-class potables while they were at it, of course. I played soccer as a kid – I’m in that demographic – and I’d be the first to vouch that it’s a very absorbing game to play. Watching it, on the other hand, is a skill I have yet to fully acquire. So while, about thirty minutes into the match, the highlight of which was a putative [...]

 

Friday night around eight o’clock, the Round Robin Bar was packed with revelers fortifying themselves for the Fourth of July fireworks display, which we here in Washington were lucky enough to have escaped the wrath of Hurricane Arthur to witness. The Round Robin is located in the Willard Hotel, right across the street from the Treasury building. There has been a hotel there, at Fourteenth Street and Pennsylvania Avenue, since 1818, and many historic events have occurred at the Willard, under that and several previous names. Julia Ward Howe wrote The Battle Hymn of the Republic at the Willard Hotel, for example, although I’m sure she never set foot in the Round Robin, which is located on the first floor, [...]

 

Last night, during intermission at a performance of Side Show at the Kennedy Center, Cerise and I were approached by Tolvan Lure, Esquire, well known Beltway legal wonk, who is an advisor both to the Republican National Committee and House Speaker John Boehner. “Tom!” Lure exclaimed, “how are you doing?” “Excellent,” I assured him, “enjoying the show?” “Oh yeah,” he snickered, “it’s great – but watching those two women joined at the hip keeps reminding me of Obama and the special interest lobby! And speaking of Obama,” he continued moving closer and lowering his voice, “what do you think of John’s lawsuit?” “You mean the one Boehner’s threatening to bring against the President?” Cerise inquired. “That’s right,” he effused, “we’re [...]

 

“Jesus Christ Almighty!” Gretchen wailed, “not that guy again!” “He called me at home and I quoted him five times my usual hourly rate,” I pointed out, “and he paid it, up front and in cash, via wire transfer directly to my business bank account. It’s a done deal – he’s coming here Saturday at three o’clock.” “Well,” she huffed, “if he’s coming here Saturday at three, I’m leaving at twelve!” “Sure,” I agreed, “no problem, you can leave at noon. Only before you go, just be sure to follow the same protocols we always have with him – cover the couch and chairs with clear plastic, put six new filters in the ventilation system, turn the external exhaust fan [...]

 

Around eight o’clock on Friday nights, one can find any manner of Washington denizens crying in their beer at the Round Robin Bar – also celebrating, socializing or relaxing before dinner, too, naturally, but in that respect, a bar is like a Metro car. Board a Metro car and you will find some of the passengers on their way to work, to the theater, to a ball game, to church, to a lovers’ tryst, to the zoo, to the art museum, and so forth; and then there are those who aren’t going anywhere in particular. That last category are the nuts, of course, the homeless deranged lunatics of the world, or sometimes the deranged lunatics of the world who live [...]

© 2012 Tom Collins' World Wide Web Log Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha