Arts and Minds
Post travel story reminds us why we hate DC
Have you read the Washington Post travel piece on Baltimore that ran today?
In it, writer Marc Fisher basically comes out and admits that he bases his opinion of Baltimore on The Wire, Randy Newman’s 1977 album cut, “Baltimore,” and a trip to AVAM. And like a lot of ignorant, elitist DC folks, he doesn’t seem to admit or realize how ridiculous this is. It’s kinda like basing your opinion of Washington on repeated viewings of D.C. Cab and a trip to the Washington Monument. Adding insult to stupidity, he raves about coming to Camden Yards to root for the Yankees, as if doing so was not the single most loathsome thing an out-of-towner could do.
Okay, but despite “grumpiness” and “allergy to all things John Waters” (as Divine might say, “Oh my God almighty! Someone has sent me a bowel movement!”), Fisher takes his editor’s assignment and sloughs off to Baltimore, and without a chance of seeing Derek Jeter.
Needless to say, this being Charm City, he has a great time, surprised to discover places like Trinacria and the Bohemian Coffee House, like someone who’s been in prison for the last 20 years, but still his profound ignorance shines through.
It’s hard not to laugh when writes “look how authentic we are, the neighborhood’s new arrivals seem to be saying,” as if this chump – on holiday from DC and raving about cheap parking like an octogenarian – is an appropriate arbiter of “authentic.” Relief comes in the comments section, which is uniformly unimpressed. Mobtowngirl says it best:
I’ve lived in Shirlington, Takoma Park, Silver Spring, and Capitol Hill. I’ve also lived in Locust Point, Hamilton, Tuscany-Canterbury, and Hoes Heights. For 10 years now, I’ve been finding all the charm and authenticity in Baltimore that I sought but failed to find living in DC. DC is the hot blonde girl who waxes herself nearly bald, went to Penn, and works in communications for a prestigious nonprofit. Baltimore is the brunette who still plays D&D, argues about philosophy on Reddit, and has a taste for kink. Baltimore will never try to be DC, much as some travel writers might like it to be so. Thank goodness my adopted hometown has a personality, even if that personality is too scary for the article’s author.











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