Ode to Connecticut (the Avenue)

Did you know the state song of Connecticut is Yankee Doodle? Does it really matter? Not so much.

Connecticut is a fine state (somewhere there is a photo of me at the Connecticut welcome center, just outside Danbury across from NY - on our honeymoon, that photo was taken to commemorate my first foray into the great state of Connecticut and New England itself. Himself still teases me about it - especially since I was wearing my Farmer John overalls, which he loathes).

But Connecticut, while a fine state, isn't the Connecticut I love most. My favorite street in DC is Connecticut Ave. I have many fond memories schlepping up and down Connecticut Ave. in a tour bus or school bus or other such vehicle when I worked as a youth tour guide in DC. I have some not-quite-as-fond memories about the street, from the times when I was commuting via train from Maryland to DC, there was a fire in the tunnel, and I walked several miles UP Connecticut Ave. from Dupont Circle to Brandywine, approaching the MD border. In the humidity of late June.

My trip to DC this past week took me to a hotel just off Connecticut, where the convention was held. To illustrate my nerdiness about DC, as I was carpooling in with a friend, I was crazy-excited about cutting through Georgetown to get to upper Connecticut Ave. because it brought back so many memories. Having lived with me for several years, she was gracious enough to realize it was truly heartfelt emotion rather than hormonal insanity and thankfully let it pass without too much mocking. On my last day at the convention, I set out to wander along Connecticut Ave. in the warm afternoon sun, after I completed my work.

I love Connecticut Ave. It is one of the most vibrant streets in the city, entering DC at Chevy Chase circle among large, expensive homes, small shops and tiny strip malls. It meanders south, passing the University of the District of Columbia, the Uptown Theater (where movies premiering in DC actually premier - and the only theater in the city with a working balcony), the strip mall across from the Uptown theater, which had the first off-street parking in DC - back when off-street parking was considered a developmental accomplishment instead of sprawl. Along the way it passes the zoo, the Taft Memorial Bridge, the fine homes and embassies south of Rock Creek Park, the shops and cafes of Dupont Circle, and the business district as Connecticut meets K street - home to DCs power brokers - lobbyists, lawyers and consulting firms.

My walk took me to the National Zoo. Having not paid homage to the baby (though not so little) panda in a very long time, I wandered into the zoo, drifted among families with strollers and small children and couples linked arm-in-arm using the zoo their own lovers' lane. I remembered all the times we brought Son to the zoo when he was little - back when I was the cool girlfriend instead of the wicked step-mother, back when he loved to ride the train so much, we'd sometimes ride it back and forth across the river - or up to the zoo - just for fun. I found myself anxiously awaiting the day when Baby Girl would be excited to go to the zoo - and longed to bring her to the places that are seared in my memory for a thousand different reasons.

For a moment, none of the stress of life existed - no bills to pay, no unemployment woes, no one needing me just then, no need to think about the future, or the time or what was on the perpetual to do list.

I basked in the sun, took in the scents of the handful of Indian, Lebanese and Mediterranean cafes, embraced the fact that not one person sharing the sidewalk with me was just like me and, for the first time in months, felt as if, even if only for a moment, that I belonged.

It's a good thing I got a dose of reality in the form of horrid Saturday-night traffic, or I might have missed my plane back to the real world.