Tag Archives: Washington DC

Grease-Dipped Benjamins

Being an important, wealthy, and virile businessman, I frequently find myself in Washington, DC. I bring my banker, Titmouse Beak, and my lawyer, Treacherous Gulp, because I need to accomplish a lot in a short period of time. I also bring suitcases full of grease-dipped Benjamins. You can’t open doors on Capitol Hill without those. I’m joking, of course. No one uses cash anymore; all those transactions are done electronically, but you get my point.

Tuesday morning we were walking by Union Station towards the Capitol. You could smell fried legislative sausage everywhere. Treacherous, Tit, and I are prosperous middle-aged men, so we love watching people fight. We’ll pay fat stacks to see professionals brutalize each other and then bet larger sums on who will limp away and who will go to the hospital. It’s wildly entertaining, and as luck would have it an amateur fight broke out in front of us.

Two men of indeterminate age started screaming at each other. One man was short and worn out. All his worldly possessions were on a blanket next to him. It was a small pile. Another man, tall and emaciated with all his possessions on his back, appeared to have stepped on the blanket. It was difficult to assess if this was an intentional provocation or accidental. Both men were jittery and having trouble standing upright. Nonetheless, the fight was on, and we started placing our bets.

The tall skinny guy should have had an advantage, but he couldn’t throw a punch. He tried slapping the short guy but lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. The short guy went to kick him, but he too lost his balance and collapsed on his tiny pile of possessions. These fighters had no physical stamina, and neither tried to get back up. Needless to say, the fight was disappointing and hilarious, but it reminded me of how, in Washington, DC, you get what you pay for.

Knowgood Carp, Owner of all the Hotels on Block Island and Some in Connecticut

The Silent Majority

Over Mother’s Day weekend I attended the 2023 Fiesta Asia Street Fair in Washington, DC. It was a mosaic of wonderful music, dancing, art, and food. Afterwards, I was walking along Constitution Avenue close to the National Museum of African-American History and Culture. That’s when I heard drums.

Looking around, I noticed a parade of approximately 80 white men dressed in little boy sailor suits. They were banging on drums and waving banners that read RECLAIM AMERICA. When they got close, I could read the blue lettering on their white caps: NAMBI, which stands for National Association of Man-Boys & Incels – a neo-Nazi, white supremacist group. They were surrounded by police officers balancing on road bikes.

Curious, I started walking next to one of the marchers and introduced myself. “Are you related to Jim Crow?” he asked.

“No.”

“That’s a shame. He’s our favorite founding father.”

“Who are you trying to reclaim America from?”

“Anyone who isn’t 100% white, 100% Christian, and 100% performatively-Alpha male.”

“Is anyone in America 100% anything?”

“That’s why we need to act now. Before it’s too late.”

“Are you disappointed no one has come out to support you?”

“Not at all. We know the majority of people support us. They’re just silent.”

“Have you thought they might be silent because they disagree with you?”

“I didn’t get here by having thoughts.””

“Do you find it funny that every police officer here protecting you is black?”

“As far as I know, NAMBIs don’t have a sense of humor. So, no, I don’t find that funny.”

“When you say reclaim America, what do you mean?”

“Go back to the way things used to be.”

“How far back is that? Like, does that mean going back to the days of slavery?”

“No. Don’t be ridiculous. We’re just trying to stop the erosion of de facto segregation. Once we do that, we can work on bringing back de jure segregation. But let me be clear – no one, and I mean no one, is trying to bring back slavery. Yet.”

Saffron Crow, Parade Reporter

Vanishing Act

Many things vanish in Brit Bennett’s The Vanishing Half, including an entire town in Louisiana. However, the plot revolves around twin sisters, Desiree and Stella Vignes, and how one of them (Stella) vanishes. Not through foul play but simply because she can. Actually they both vanish at first. One comes back after 14 years, but the other doesn’t. This is getting confusing. I better start over.

In Mallard, Louisiana, no one marries “dark”. The town’s founder was a freed slave who had a white father. He built a town for people like him – people “who would never be accepted as white but refused to be treated like Negroes.” After several generations the Mallard folks are light skinned. “But even here, where nobody married dark, you were still colored and that meant white men could kill you for refusing to die.” That’s what happened to the twins’ father. He was lynched when they were young children. They saw him dragged out of the house.

The story opens in 1968. The twins have been gone 14 years when Desiree walks into town pulling a 7 or 8 year old girl. The town is shocked because the child is not light skinned. She’s “midnight”. The twins had run away to New Orleans and found jobs, but then Stella realized how easy it was for her to pass as white. Soon after, she vanishes. Desiree eventually moves to Washington, D.C. and marries a physically-abusive man. They have a daughter, Jude. When Desiree concludes her husband is likely to kill her, she vanishes again – returning to Mallard with Jude.

Vanishing is not the same as escaping. “You can escape a town, but you cannot escape blood. Somehow, the Vignes twins believed themselves capable of both.” They were wrong.

Similarly, passing is not the same as being. “At first, passing seemed so simple . . . But she was young then. She hadn’t realized how long it takes to become somebody else, or how lonely it can be living in a world not meant for you.” The story spans several decades – from the 1950s to 1988, and eventually Stella does turn up. When she does, her past is waiting.

The story is an intriguing examination of what a person gives up when she decides to become someone else. Given the time’s overt racism, Stella’s highwire act has real risks. Which leaves the reader asking: considering everything she sacrifices, was “vanishing” worth it? It’s to Bennett’s credit that the reader struggles for an answer.

Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor