City Paper is not for tourists
Though I’m no inaugural historian, I’m just going to bet that the following scenario has never played out before in the history of Jan. 20ths:
Some people who live in an apartment building finish the holiday season with some extra wine that they never cracked. They look at the calendar, see that the inauguration is coming up and say, Hey, let’s use this wine for a little inaugural party. Said party gradually grows in ambition, adding champagne, a caterer, plus a kickass jazz band. It becomes a full-fledged inaugural ball, complete with a A-list celeb in political commentator Mark Shields and other high-flyers who are overheard congratulating themselves for electing Obama.
That it all happened in a Kalorama building, one of the toniest areas of the city, detracts only slightly from its value as a great 2009 ball of inaugural yarn. According to correspondent-in-the-field Mike Riggs, the narrative above is exactly how 2029 Connecticut Avenue came to be throwing a huge soiree tonight.
2029 Connecticut, you say? Where’s that? Well, that’s right on the crest of the Connecticut Avenue hill that separates the greater Dupont area from the Taft bridge and upper whitedom. One of its famous denizens is none other than Carol Schwartz, who, at a party she threw a decade ago, pointed out to a Washington City Paper reporter that she had a nice view of the Washington Monument…from the seat of her toilet. At the time of the 2029 Apartment Building Inaugural Ball, Schwartz’s doggie was being walked. Correspondent Riggs wasn’t quite sure what kind of dog it was, but describes it like this: “It was hairy and solid black—closer to a Newfoundland than to a collie. It’s fluffy—-long hair and a thick coat but it is flat.”
Reporting by Mike Riggs, writing by Erik Wemple