DC’s Very Own Pasquino

Residents of DC: did you ever try calling a Senator’s office, or a real representative’s office, and been told they can’t talk to you because you are not a constituent? I’ve hit upon a solution: our very own Pasquino!

In Rome, near Piazza Navona, stands a little beat up statue dubbed Pasquino. From the 16th century on, anonymous commoners would post satirical poems and diatribes on Pasquino (pasquinades) aimed at the Pope and the nobility. (As you can see from the picture, the tradition continues.) The postings were always attributed to the statue itself, and Pasquino became known as a talking statue. I’ve been thinking that DC needs its own talking statue, who would speak for the citizens of the city to the dysfunctional city government and to a Congress where we have no voice. If we can’t have voting rights, at least we can make satirical personal attacks!

I thought I’d try it out first in Coladams Circle so that the neighborhood denizens could air their grievances in an anonymous forum. However, I quickly learned that the limited population of Coladams Circle (exactly 2) made anonymous posts next to impossible, and it quickly devolved into childish name-calling. I gave up the idea.

Now I’m searching for a DC-wide Pasquino. It should be a statue of some stature, in a prominent public place where public officials and commoners alike often pass. The right “talking statue” could carry some weight in DC’s public discourse; who would NOT listen to the great figures of history? So far, here are the top contenders:

Albert Einstein, 23rd and Constitution, NW

Pro: He’s really, really smart.
Con: That doesn’t carry as much weight in politics as one might think.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Conn. Ave and M St. NW

Pro: Giant Figure in American Literature
Con: American Literature matters less in America than anywhere else in the world (including France)

Maine Lobster Man on the Southwest Waterfront

Pro: A common man with Yankee common sense.
Con: Members of Congress are terrified to leave the Capitol grounds and would never venture into SOUTHWEST!

Gandhi, Mass Ave. and 21st NW

Pro: People should listen to a non-violent idealist.
Con: People won’t listen to a non-violent idealist.

Sailor, 7th and Pennsylvania NW

Pro: I bet this guy’s got a LOT to say.
Con: Present administration doesn’t really seem to care.

Ethan Allen, U.S. Capitol Building

Pro: He carries a sword.
Con: He also hawks furniture.

I think good old Ethan Allen, due to his preferable situation inside the Capitol building, offers the most promise. I can see it now: Eleanor Holmes Norton’s staffers could sneak into the Capitol early each morning and post pasquinades received from constituents on the statue, where other members of congress would be forced to confront them!

That’s, of course, assuming the other members can read.

Chelsea at San Giovanni Laterano?

On our trip to Rome in October, we visited many, many churches. Half of them, it seemed, we either designed by or contained something sculpted by Michelangelo. More amazing, though, was what we found in the guest book of San Giovanni Laterano:



I’m not sure if Chelsea really signed this, but if someone was trying to be funny, they would have written “Nicole Ritchie” or “Paris Hilton” or something, who probably wouldn’t have set foot in San Giovanni Laterano, even if they knew what it was, for fear of it falling down on them. There’s a good chance that Miss Clinton, a graduate of Stanford and Oxford, actually visited San Giovanni Laterano. Whether it was on September 12, I don’t know.

But my wife and I contend that it was THE Chelsea Clinton who signed the same guest book as we did. It makes us feel important.

When In Rome

My wife and I recently returned from two weeks in Rome, drinking too much no-so-good Italian wine, eating way too much really good food, and not seeing enough of the sights. Washington and Rome are similar in a lot of ways: half the Romans seem to want to cheat you out of your money, and the other half want to give you free stuff.

Upon arrival at Termini station, we took a cab to our apartment We learned later that the ride should have cost 10 Euros. This guy charged us 30. I paid it, being a bit loopy from the flight, even though I knew I was being rooked. Later that night we were overcharged for pizza and bad wine. It wasn’t an auspicious start to our stay. We’d read about the con-games and pickpockets Rome is famous for, but we figured, hey, we’re from Washington, where even the garbage men expect to be bribed and getting robbed on the street is like a right of passage.

So we decided that if we couldn’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Since we spent most of our first week’s budget on the taxi and one meal, we figured we could make up the difference by robbing American tourists. For the most part, the American’s were easy to spot (or so we assumed): unstylish clothes, fanny packs worn on the front, neck safes and money belts worn outside the unstylish clothes, heads buried in guidebooks while walking: it would be easy pickings.


But all our careful planning came to naught: first, we tried the old “hand gun in the jacket pocket” trick so popular in DC; we approached a promising looking family, all fumbling digital cameras and baseball caps. I pointed my pocket at them and said “you know what time it is!” doing my best DC-thug impression. The man said “why sure!” and then proceeded to, well, give me the time. “No,” I said, “I mean, give it up!” This only elicited a few blinks and a repetition of the time. But we were not dismayed. We found other prey. However, as it turned out, most of the people wearing American T-shirts were Italians, the unstylish clothes and fanny packs belonged to Germans, and the guidebooks were in the hands of just about everyone else. Americans, amazingly enough, were virtually invisible! One couple, I think they were Canadian, did give us a 2 euro coin. I think they thought we were some sort of street performers. Our crime spree sputtered out.

Later, a café owner gave us free champagne, a tour guide gave us a free tour of the Forum, a fruit vendor in Campo di Fiori gave us way too many delicious grapes, and, in an unrelated theme, a shop owner yelled at us for putting garbage in a garbage can, babbling that she didn’t go to London and throw wine bottles everywhere (although I had my doubts). There was no arguing with that kind of logic. On the whole, things seemed to even out on the financial front. Like DC, where I’ve been overcharged by plumbers and electricians, but given a driver’s license even though I clearly failed the eye test, and while I can’t win an argument with the parking enforcement officer, the hearing official usually gives me an out on a technicality. Karma. I think the Italians call if la dolce vita. Or else la curriculum vitae. Or something like that. I’m pretty certain it involves a small bull’s horn made of coral.

When it Rome, we learned, it was best to get drunk and eat too much. Getting drunk and eating too much on a balcony helps. I think the same basic laws hold true for DC, too.

(An aside: in over ten years of living in Washington, my wife and I have never been robbed, and in two weeks in Rome, riding trains and going to all the tourist spots, we were never the victims of pickpockets; both cities suffer from overblown media crime hype. Please don't comment that you've been robbed in both DC and Rome. I don't care. I didn't say street crime doesn't exist. I'm simply saying that people love telling street crime stories, and they make great news pieces, giving the impression that you'll get robbed as soon as you step out your door. End aside.)