Each morning during the week, I take the orange line two stops from Virginia Square to Courthouse for work. The trip is short, and I don’t bother sitting down. I mute the world with my iPod as I prepare myself for the next eight hours.
Upon arrival at the Courthouse stop, I drain off the metro car, endure the muggy ride up the uncomfortably long escalator, and emerge on street level. Air. As of late, I’ve picked up a copy of the Express, a free Washington Post publication, handed out by the man at the top of the escalators.
The day after the metro rail crash, I picked up the Express and brought it to the office. I mentioned to a few of my fellow summers that I planned to save the paper. A piece of history — the most destructive DC metro crash ever. The next day, I picked up a copy of the Express with the tear-stained face of my governor and then-likely 2012 presidential candidate, Mark Sanford, on the cover. The next day, I grabbed a copy of the Express with a cover exclaiming: “The King is Dead.”
In addition to the above, the Monday through Friday included the deaths of Farrah Fawcett and Ed McMahon, a global threat from North Korea, and — to “cap” it off — the passage of the horrific climate bill.
What a week of tragedy here on earth. Thank God we were made for the bliss of eternity.
UPDATE: Even before the next Monday could arrive, the infomercial god Billy Mays has died.