A Pathetic Geek Story
My name is M. and I am an MBA. I direct a program at a Catholic non-profit, but the editorial and subscription people call me "the stock boy." I have to admit my position involves a lot of liaising between our office and the fulfillment house when I'm not addressing the questions and concerns of parish council members from Snohomish, Oregon.
Anyway, this week I attended a two-day convention of catechists here in D.C. Catechists, by the way, are people who know what percentage of American adults don't attend church as well the six personality types (according to the Broder Model) of DRE's. On Wednesday, the last seminar ("Catechetics Futuring") ended at 2 p.m. and on Thursday it ended at Noon for the attendees from out of town who were on the "Six Flags Track" or the "Dave & Buster's Track."
With whole afternoons to kill, I could have browsed the books and prints at Second Story off Dupont Circle. I could have strolled through the Mayflower lobby. I could have gone to that park next to the Canadian Embassy where the bronze guys play chess and water splashes under dazzling blue skies. I could have enjoyed Lady Bird Johnson's legacy of flowers. I could have bade an old sax man outside Farragut North to blow "Memories of You." I could have hiked up to the zoo to pay my respects to the prairie dogs and then move on to late afternoon duck at the Yenching Palace where the bartender's name is Sam and they play '50s rock. I could have marvelled at Van Eyck's "Annunciation." in the National Gallery. I could have sought the crazy woman who lives in a confessional at St. Matthew's.
I could have done these things, but instead I went back to the office. Both days.
Copyright 2001, 2003 by Neal J. Conway. All rights reserved.