It happens. You pass by a coming-attractions box on U Street and are drawn to the serendipity of countless past posters, respecting their adhesives.

Constellations have been named with less than this. Dig around in there and you'll find faces and incomplete hyperbole among all the torn edges.

This is actually a three-paned coming-attractions box and these are but two.

A band had a gig coming up on the 22nd at Howard U. I looked them up and found a YouTube promo for it. Maybe they won't take it down, now that it's clear salonistas rule and that one of their rules is crystal clear.

Make no viral before it's time.

To make more viral.

I may have just broken my hip.

I hope that's not what's going on with this little goose. 

Whew. Probably not. Its mirror image over there is doing it too.

Talk about location, location, location.

An easy flyover away.

The Naval Observatory, high on a hill in the distance.

Hello Mr. Vice President. From 2.2 miles across the Potomac in Rosslyn. That's like from our south windows to the craters.

Not to be confused with a navel observatory: the meta-post at Open Salon. He-he.

Guarding Calder.

Prarie dog, reflecting

Up one tube and down the other, setting the zoo on fire, borrowing liberally from Old Hank (the genius whose apple unfortunately landed in another country).

It's chiseled in stone: Ann Purdy beloved wife of John Purdy died February 26, 1863 in the 60th year of her age.

No disrespect to the departed intended, but I couldn't help saying "and right purdy too."

For all but die-hard hippies/fans, here's the context, borrowed word for word from the Firesign Theatre:

WAGON BOSS: Here, Injun! Ya want some firewater?
INDIAN: No. We were warned by our Elders not to drink anything that would make us weak or silly.
WAGON BOSS: (laughs) Put it in their well!
INDIAN: That's not a well. It's the Eye of the Holy Serpent Mound, on which you're standing.
WAGON BOSS: It's a beaut!
INDIAN: No, it's a mound.
WAGON BOSS: And right purdy, too! er- can ya' move it?
INDIAN: But - why?
WAGON BOSS: Railroad's comin' thru! Right now!

And then there's the farthest from satire, also chiseled in stone, in a part of DC inaccessible to chauffeur-driven vehicles.

Evidently.

MLK was "a drum major for justice, peace and righteousness."

These days we're lousy with drum majors for return on investment, freedom from regulation and self-righteousness.

I sense a contrast.