I wouldn’t have been so upset had the next train arrived a few minutes later. But what made tonight’s ride home particularly painful was the next Yellow line train didn’t come for 20 minutes. In fact, I watched five Green line trains pass before seeing the first Yellow. While it is not usually this bad — except on Nationals game days — there are routinely two Green line trains headed for Branch Avenue for every Yellow line train going to Huntington.
Why? Unless a large number of Green line riders are getting on somewhere down the line, the numbers at Gallery Place-Chinatown hardly seem to justify the 2-for-1 system.
I’ve had the same commute for nearly four years, and in that time, Metro seems to be increasingly moving more Green line trains. That means Yellow line passengers are asked to pay rush-hour prices (in my case $3.25) for service that’s comparable to Saturday schedules.
After years of complaints from Green line customers, the tables have certainly turned. It’s time for Yellow line riders to start speaking up, especially as more people in Northern Virginia turn to mass transit to avoid higher gas prices. The opening of a huge new parking garage at Huntington is likely to encourage even more people to park and ride.
If you’re a fellow Yellow line rider, you start by contacting Metro’s Yellow/Green Line Manager Rita Davis at yellow-greenline@wmata.com or (301) 562-4607.
UPDATE — July 8, 11:42 p.m.: Today’s ride home wasn’t nearly as bad, but it was still rather annoying to watch three Green line trains pass before the first Yellow line arrived. Instead of waiting 20 minutes like yesterday, at least I was only stuck on the platform for 10.
My friend and fellow Ithaca College alum Michelle Cuthrell appeared on “Fox & Friends” on the Fourth of July to talk about her book about being a military wife and new mother while her husband served in Iraq. I haven’t had an opportunity to write about “Behind the Blue-Star Banner: A Memoir from the Home Front” since it came out in February. Finally I’m getting around to doing something on it — thanks to Michelle’s great TV appearance.
Hat tip to Michael Serino on The Ithacan Alumni Blog.
I took this shot of Jack the Bulldog on campus as we headed back to the car. It was a picture-perfect moment. You can see more shots of Georgetown on my Flickr account.
Stay tuned for more photos of Nationals Park. We took a behind-the-scenes tour of the stadium Saturday.
Helms and I had a bond that dates back to my junior year of college, where in professor Marty Brownstein’s Legislative Behavior class, I played the role of Senator Helms during the spring semester. The class was set up like the U.S. Senate — each student was entered into a lottery at the beginning of the semester, and based on the draft, picked a role. The top pick was usually the Senate majority leader (or some other powerful committee chairman), while those picking at the end were left with freshmen.
My lottery pick was pretty bad, but after negotiating with classmate Jon Byman, I managed to secure his selection. (I actually had to kiss his shoe, which was absolutely disgusting, but well worth it in the end.) When it came my time to choose, I got the senator I wanted: Jesse Helms. At the time, Helms was chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. But more importantly, his conservative views and values for freedom were perfectly in line with mine.
At that moment I became the rare conservative at Ithaca College willing to argue with an overwhelmingly liberal politics department. Even in a class that had to be divided roughly equally — given the Senate’s 55-45 Republican advantage at the time — many liberals were forced to play the role of Republicans. Still, the class was a fun exercise in how the U.S. Senate operated. We held hearings, debated legislation, gave floor speeches.
Together with my good friend Jason Subik, who played the role of Sen. Ted Stevens (R-Alaska), we made the most of the class. It turned out to be one of my favorites in the four years at Ithaca. The final class was one of the happiest moments at Ithaca when Brownstein awarded me the Arthur Brown Award, an oil can, which reflected the Senate’s reputation as the world’s greatest deliberative body. I was a journalism major and editor of The Ithacan at the time, yet Brownstein chose me for the highest honor. I was humbled.
I tried to meet Helms during a trip to the U.S. Capitol in March 2000, when my then-girlfriend (and now wife) were in Washington for spring break. I saw his motorized scooter outside the Foreign Relations Committee hearing room, but never saw him. By the time I arrived in Washington in the fall of 2001, Helms was winding down his career. He retired in 2002.
In retirement, Helms wrote an outstanding book, “Here’s Where I Stand.” After speaking on a panel with John Dodd, president of the Jesse Helms Center, several years ago, I received an autographed copy of the Helms book in the mail. I will forever treasure it as a reminder of the great man and true conservative champion.
As Heritage’s Ed Feulner remarked today, “July 4, 2008, like July 4, 1826, and July 4, 1831, will long be remembered as a very special day in the history of American independence. On the Fourth of July 1826, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson both died. On the Fourth of July 1831, James Monroe died. On the Fourth of July 2008, another great American patriot, Jesse Helms, died.”
UPDATE — July 5, 9:48 p.m.: I heard back from Brownstein about the Arthur Brown Award. I always wanted to ask him how it got its name and why he gave me an oil can. Now I know.
Arthur Brown was the congenial, attentive professor who ran things amiably and with near-total efficiency behind the scenes. The oil can refers to his/your ability to lubricate the coils of legislation. And you certainly earned yours!
His photography inspired me to break out my Nikon D50 this weekend to take some pictures around the house and at the Nationals game. I already showed you the latter. I also snapped several shots of a friendly squirrel who hangs out in our yard. I was using a 300 mm lens, but I was still amazed at how close I could get without him running away.