Everyone asks me how I keep with upcoming concerts in DC. The answer is simple: scour the websites of reliable venues; know good folks who send invitations to house shows; and pick up the paper every week. Since I go to all that trouble, I will gladly share the spoils with you.
[ EDIT: This list has expired and is on hiatus. ]
Showing posts with label DC. Show all posts
Showing posts with label DC. Show all posts
08 September 2014
22 April 2014
DC Concerts: April to June 2014
Everyone asks me how I keep with upcoming concerts in DC. The answer is simple: scour the websites of reliable venues; know good folks who send invitations to house shows; and pick up the paper every week. Since I go to all that trouble, I will gladly share the spoils with you in the form of a regularly-updated list.
[ EDIT: This list has expired. Please click here for the latest list. ]
[ EDIT: This list has expired. Please click here for the latest list. ]
10 February 2014
DC Concerts: February-March 2014
Everyone asks me how I keep with upcoming concerts in DC. The answer is simple: scour the websites of reliable venues; know good folks who send invitations to house shows; and pick up the paper every week. Since I go to all that trouble, I will gladly share the spoils with you in the form of a regularly-updated list.
[ EDIT: This list has expired. Please click here for the latest list. ]
[ EDIT: This list has expired. Please click here for the latest list. ]
25 November 2013
DC Concerts: Dec. 2013 / Jan. 2014
Everyone asks me how I keep with upcoming concerts in DC. The answer is simple: scour the websites of reliable venues; know good folks who send invitations to house shows; and pick up the paper every week. Since I go to all that trouble, I will gladly share the spoils with you in the form of a regularly-updated list.
[ EDIT: This list has expired. Please click here for the latest list. ]
[ EDIT: This list has expired. Please click here for the latest list. ]
05 November 2013
DC Concerts: November 2013
Everyone asks me how I keep with upcoming concerts in DC. The answer is simple: scour the websites of reliable venues; know good folks who send invitations to house shows; and pick up the paper every week. Since I go to all that trouble, I will gladly share the spoils with you in the form of a regularly updated list.
[ EDIT: This list has expired. Please click here for the latest list. ]
[ EDIT: This list has expired. Please click here for the latest list. ]
21 August 2013
What Do You Do?
I hear it immediately: the hesitation.
The eternal Washington, D.C., question hangs in the thick, swampy summer air like a funhouse specter: "what do you do?" The specter follows the underemployed from networking events to backyard barbecues, from baseball games to Saturday nights-on-the-town. It contaminates the water supply, slips through the useless charcoal filter on the overpriced pitcher, and permeates the bodies of all who travel in certain circles. If you stick around long enough, if you do what you do, you parrot it back in perma-loop, second only to "hello" as the interpersonal greeting of choice.
You are intended to have your response/defense ready for the quick draw: I do something important. I make policy. I break policy. I serve drinks but I intern at somewhere special. I am a student. I have started my own business. I rule a small island nation.
Unemployment and underemployment pull back your sharp-edged words and your confidence. They put you in a conversational de-militarized zone. Off limits.
You are not allowed to be looking or uncertain. Not from a place of weakness. If you are -- which we all are at all times in this town, unless we have submitted to stagnation or retirement -- you are not encouraged to admit this to anyone but close friends. D.C. places a palpable stigma on the professionally undead, for they are known to want. They hunger for job leads, contacts, help, insider info, something, anything, please. They email regularly to tell you they still exist.
So what do I do? I reconsider my career path. I rely heavily on my support network. I write new songs. I visit the museums. I bicycle to Rockville, or to Falls Church, or simply through the National Mall at night. I consider moving to another city. I have lunch with my mother and grandmother. I fantasize about an end to the hesitation. I attend free concerts and outdoor film showings. I interview for jobs. I network extensively. I grab the $5 tickets to the baseball game. I invent new, creative cocktails in my kitchen. This is my life, and I am living it.
I feel it immediately: the hesitation. The desperation. The embarrassment. The scramble to justify existence for this networking event, this backyard barbecue, this over-loud bar, this self-important city.
"I am figuring out what comes next," I offer meekly. "So, what do you do?"
The eternal Washington, D.C., question hangs in the thick, swampy summer air like a funhouse specter: "what do you do?" The specter follows the underemployed from networking events to backyard barbecues, from baseball games to Saturday nights-on-the-town. It contaminates the water supply, slips through the useless charcoal filter on the overpriced pitcher, and permeates the bodies of all who travel in certain circles. If you stick around long enough, if you do what you do, you parrot it back in perma-loop, second only to "hello" as the interpersonal greeting of choice.
You are intended to have your response/defense ready for the quick draw: I do something important. I make policy. I break policy. I serve drinks but I intern at somewhere special. I am a student. I have started my own business. I rule a small island nation.
Unemployment and underemployment pull back your sharp-edged words and your confidence. They put you in a conversational de-militarized zone. Off limits.
You are not allowed to be looking or uncertain. Not from a place of weakness. If you are -- which we all are at all times in this town, unless we have submitted to stagnation or retirement -- you are not encouraged to admit this to anyone but close friends. D.C. places a palpable stigma on the professionally undead, for they are known to want. They hunger for job leads, contacts, help, insider info, something, anything, please. They email regularly to tell you they still exist.
So what do I do? I reconsider my career path. I rely heavily on my support network. I write new songs. I visit the museums. I bicycle to Rockville, or to Falls Church, or simply through the National Mall at night. I consider moving to another city. I have lunch with my mother and grandmother. I fantasize about an end to the hesitation. I attend free concerts and outdoor film showings. I interview for jobs. I network extensively. I grab the $5 tickets to the baseball game. I invent new, creative cocktails in my kitchen. This is my life, and I am living it.
I feel it immediately: the hesitation. The desperation. The embarrassment. The scramble to justify existence for this networking event, this backyard barbecue, this over-loud bar, this self-important city.
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