Dark Ages Washington

I stayed up past my bedtime last night reading "Dark Ages America," a thoroughly depressing and captivating read. The author tells many anecdotes illustrating the lack of community and general callousness of Americans, but in particular among residents of Washington DC, home to some of the most selfish and self-absorbed people on the planet. He relates the story of a female friend, "Jane," who went sailing with a singles group on Chesapeake Bay. About two hours into the afternoon one of the other women on board accidently let go of the rope that held one of the sails taut. It whiplashed out and coiled around Jane's leg, inflicting a third degree burn. She was knocked flat and turned white. Instead of heading for shore and getting Jane to an ER, the happy-go-lucky singles mixed another pitcher of margaritas and socialized among themselves as Jane lay prostrate on the deck. When the boat finally docked two hours later, they wished Jane "luck" with her injury and let Jane drive herself to the hospital (a full hour's drive away).

It reminded me of an incident that happened to me back in January. It was about 10 days after my boyfriend had died (suddenly and unexpectedly) and I was making my first trip back to the gym. The day before I had spoken to a friend of mine about John's death and he told me he had been discussing the shock of it all with two of his friends (both of whom I knew well and neither one of whom I particularly liked). So, when I saw one of the two approaching me, let's just call him "the Blair Witch Project," while I was running on the treadmill, I assumed he was going to offer me his sympathies. I took out my IPod earphones and smiled at him. Instead, he looked me in the eye as if he had never met me before and asked me, with great indignation, when I was going to be finished with the machine (he had signed up for the wrong piece of equipment, it turns out.). Shocked by this, I was able to blurt out that I had the machine for the next 30 minutes, pointing to the sign-up board, and he stormed off. No apology for getting it wrong, no condolences for the death of my boyfriend. Basically, no humanity.

It reminds me of Harry Truman's famous line about DC, "You want a friend in Washington? Get a dog."