The capital of young, single, iconoclasts

If August's rain and ridiculousness have you a little down on Capitol Hill, you should read author Charles Johnson's recent essay for Smithsonian Magazine.

My wife, Joan, born and raised on Chicago's South Side in a sometimes violent housing project called Altgeld Gardens, and I happily raised our children here. They can truly call this place—accurately described as a "city of neighborhoods"—home. On Capitol Hill two years ago, our daughter, Elisheba, a conceptual artist, opened Faire Gallery/Café, which features jazz performances and the occasional play or open-mic poetry night as well as art shows and comedy performances by young local talent. Faire is where I hang out these days, conducting my classes and keeping appointments in a vibrant atmosphere—straights and gays, students and goths—that recalls the freewheeling creative vitality of Berkeley in the late 1960s.

For Seattle is, whatever else, a place where the young, single, iconoclastic and open-minded seem to thrive...

Ah, that's nice. A few of you also had some nice things to say about Faire back when we reviewed it in May.

Young, single, iconoclastic and open-minded... hey, wait, that's more than 3 words. Frankly, Johnson's view of the Hill is darned romanticized. That part of the Hill exists -- but only kind of. Instead, a lot of the energy powering the Hill comes from people I'd describe in less sexy, more practical terms. And, shock, a lot of them are not single. And, shock, a lot of them have kids. The people Johnson describes seem to churn through Capitol Hill on their way to becoming less sexy and then getting down to business.

But you know how that Smithsonian rag is -- sex sells. Hot (open minded!), young, single iconoclasts it is, then.