What's in Dave's Head

We got dressed for dinner and Ubered to Fiola, a prix-fixe restaurant on Pennsylvania about 10 blocks from the hotel. It’s a fancy restaurant with great food and incredible service. I think there were as many staff as diners, and the dining rooms were full. As we ordered drinks, I leaned over to Donna and said, “Bernie Sanders is here,” and glanced in his direction, over her left shoulder. Wilford Brimley, the Quaker Oats TV guy Now, I see celebrities all the time. At our church in tiny Clarksville, Maryland, for instance, I regularly see: Bill Gates Kevin Costner Joe Girardi      Granny, the cartoon owner of Sylvester the Cat and Tweetie Pie (I know she is the real Granny, because she sometimes gives the readings, and her voice, as well as her countenance, right up to the little white bun on the top of her head, is spot-on) Donna doesn’t share my keen eye for celebrities. At the restaurant, with her usual skepticism in such case...

Part I: A little history about the Willard Hotel Over the long Martin Luther King, Jr. weekend, Donna and I celebrated our anniversary by visiting the nation’s capital. It’s a great gift to have common interests – learning about history and art, exploring, and walking around places either familiar or strange.   We have stayed in D.C. for our anniversary before, and the weather is always freezing cold with a biting wind that comes off the Potomac River. Despite the conditions, each day was, as Marge Gunderson, the police investigator in the movie Fargo would say, a beautiful day. We arrived on Saturday a little before noon and checked into the Willard Hotel, one of the great hotels in the city, and maybe of any city. Its history is rich and its location on Pennsylvania Avenue at 14 th Street, wedged next to the Treasury building, which itself sits next to the White House, is prime. Power exudes from these parts.   The Willard opened in the 1840s after a row o...

Regardless of your political bent, there’s no denying that 2017 was a screwy year, colored by polarization; global tensions, particularly regarding North Korea and Russia; mass killings; racist activities; political turmoil; and a president whose guiding principle seems to be self-aggrandizement. Yet in so many ways 2017 has been a very good year for Donna and me, filled with celebrations. In January we journeyed to Costa Rica to celebrate our anniversary and Donna’s birthday, and in November I finally was onboarded as a full-time employee at Constellation, where I had worked in the Communications department as a contractor for three years. In between these milestones, there were many happy days, most of which were centered on family. Our oldest child, Kate, was married in July to Steve Ritchie. The previous month Kate and I completed the one-mile Chesapeake Bay swim. It was wonderful swimming with Kate, who had trained hard for her first open-water swim and crushed it. In...

An annual fall tradition Donna and I have is to take a day trip to the Catoctin Mountains, about an hour north and west of us between Frederick, Maryland and Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. It’s a beautiful drive, with farms and livestock dotting the landscape foreground while behind is the foliage displaying its pre-death flameout of color. We arrived around 10:30 and the parking lot at the visitor center we normally park at was full. We parked illegally just long enough to get directions from a ranger to a different nearby lot, and drove up Center Road to find it, at the head of a trail we hadn’t tried before. The 2-1/2-mile hilly hike through the thick woods took about an hour and a quarter. The quiet and sense of serenity is remarkable. The weather was spectacular -- sunny, crisp air, and temperature in the mid-60s.  However, as in previous years, we didn’t see, as I had hoped, elk, mountain lions, giant pandas, pythons or zebras. In fact, the only wildlife we observed...

Last weekend Donna and I took a road trip to Detroit to visit Donna’s sister Barb, who had arranged for us to see Paul McCartney in concert at her company’s suite in the brand-new Little Caesar’s Arena. In so many ways it was perhaps the most incredible thing I have ever experienced. I don’t know if people who weren’t around in the 1960s can understand what an impact the Beatles had on our culture. They didn’t just reflect the crazy, tumultuous times, they, perhaps more than any other band, helped drive it. They made a triumphant maiden U.S. tour in 1964 after their first two U.S. albums had done well. They were instant sensations, with their distinctive look – moppish haircuts and skinny trousers – and sound. They appeared on the Ed Sullivan show, which was watched every Sunday evening by 50 million Americans, and teenaged girls went wild. The band’s manager in the early years, Brian Epstein, was a master marketer. There were Beatles fan magazines, Beatles fan clubs, Be...

Recently Donna and I met up with some friends in Bethany Beach, to celebrate a milestone birthday of a close friend of ours, Monica. Monica introduced Donna and me -- she and I grew up in the same neighborhood in Rockville, and we and her brother John, one of my best friends, were on the Hungerford swim team together. She went to college at St. Mary’s College in South Bend, Indiana, where she was a classmate of Donna. After college, she moved back home and invited Donna, who was from New Jersey, down for a weekend, and invited me to join them for some of their shenanigans. That was the beginning of Donna's and my romance.  In Bethany Beach, along with Monica and her husband Jim were John and Susan, a couple we hadn't seen in years; Larry and Claire, whom we hadn't met before; June, who like Claire had been a high-school classmate of Monica’s, and her husband Rex; and Monica's dad, John Sr. Monica's cousin Pat, who I had also known since childhood, and his wife ...

Donna and I spent Labor Day weekend in New York City. We met up with Donna’s sister Barb and two of her kids: Michael, who lives in Greenwich Village and works for Morgan Stanley, and Erin, who lives in L.A. but flew out for the long weekend. We also met up with our friends David and Allen. David went to college with Donna, and I shared a brownstone townhouse on Capitol Hill (according to the realtor; in reality it was a dump in Southeast DC, in an ungentrified area nearer to the Navy Yard than the Capitol with hypodermic needles in the street and where the liquor store had 1-1/2-inch thick Plexiglas between you and the cashier with a turntable where you would put your money and spin it to the other side and the cashier would then spin your purchase to you) with him and another person after college. Friday evening along the Hudson Our hotel was in Battery Park, at the southern tip of Manhattan, by the financial district, an area I haven’t spent much time around. Barb had arr...