Hippies on a Warm Spring Breeze

Days till Surgery: 12
Days till Old Age: 21

Oh hey, that's a palindrome. If you put the numbers next to each other. Anyway.

Today is a glorious day in the District, because apparently someone has declared it "Protest Season." Protest Season is the time where every young, unwashed hippie (and every old, unshaven senior citizen - man or woman) is blown into DC on a springtime gust of wind. One day you're meandering down the street on your way to work, studiously ignoring every other exhausted looking yuppie, and the next day, people wearing tutus and capes (oh, I'm serious) are frolicking down K Street, waving flags and beating on drums.

Now, don't get me wrong, I support some protests. One of the best experiences of my life was the 2004 March for Women's Lives in which thousands and thousands of people marched through the city in support of a woman's right to choose, and a woman's right to easily accessible birth control. It was something I felt very strongly about, and it was a march that was run smoothly and efficiently. People really came together for a real cause - and one we could actively fight. And just last fall, Erin and I went to an anti-war protest rally, in support of our troops. The general feel was that we had to oppose the war but support our troops (my stance all along) but people knew you couldn't just up and walk right out of Iraq, because that is illogical.

But for every well thought out march or protest, or smart, eloquent group, there are the rest of the crazy ass protesters that storm the streets and make you want to snap their peace loving necks. Take, for instance, Code Pink. Sure, these women are really trying to get the attention of the government, and they feel very strongly about ending the war and bringing the troops home, but really? Really, Code Pink? The last time I checked, the least effective way to get people like, oh I dunno, the President and Congress to take you seriously, was to dress up in hot pink prom dresses, don tiaras and pink boas, and run amok in the cavernous underbelly of the Senate. Luckily for everyone, that is exactly what Code Pink does, so no one has to worry about taking them seriously anytime soon. If you're going to go for guerrilla tactics, at least come up with something that doesn't look like you chose your arsenal from the left overs of Pretty Pretty Princess.


As someone who believes in peace, women's rights, and equal rights, it's groups like Code Pink that make me gnash my teeth together and contemplate an existence in a foreign country. But at least they work in huge numbers, and do get a lot of attention. Unlike, for example, my very own Hippie March this morning.

Like I said, today has seemingly brought in the springtime Protests; at McPherson Square there's an... "interesting" anti-war protest with a giant yurt (think: giant dome-like tent) and probably a good four dozen Code Pink-ers, along with far too many men in fatigues that still think we're in 'Nam; at 16th and K there's some kind of strike/protest going on which includes Rastafarian music; and over on 12th street, there's yet another protest outside of the IRS headquarters (okay, I can't blame them for that one.) Luckily for me, however, I was given my very own Three Hippie Protest March, when I had the good luck of getting stuck at a crosswalk with three young people, none of whom had showered in at least half a decade.

Armed with a rainbow flag broadcasting the word "PEACE" and a drum, my hippies resolutely marched down K Street, banging away, crowing about how awesome this was and how they were totally getting so much attention. Yes, because three gross little buggers with a drum are definitely going to get the government to pull out of Iraq. Brilliant. What they didn't seem to realize was that yes, they were getting plenty of attention, but it was because of two reasons:

1) They're a bunch of unwashed teens carrying a massive and colorful flag, and they're beating on a drum incessantly at 9 in the motherfucking morning, and,

2) Everyone around them is staring at them because they want to kill them, just to shut them the fuck up. Sorry, kids, but that's a surefire way to get your asses killed. Forget the war - pissing people off before they even get to work on a gray March weekday is just asking for it.

I understand that this is DC, and it's the place where everyone flocks to protest, to stand up for what they believe in, and to try to make a difference - I really do. And I support that general mentality, because I've done it, and I feel strongly about keeping the right to do so. But I must admit, that if I see one more goddamn asshole banging on a drum, I won't hesitate to kill them. And you know what? I'll probably get a damn medal of honor for doing so. God bless America.