The search "Alexandria VA" yielded
38 articles

Gourmet grocer with a vague name. There’s more to it than just “gourmet”.

Slaters Lane is a disproportionately important street in Alexandria, Virginia, considering its brief length.  From end to end, it measures only a half of mile, and an additional 500 feet of that length is a stub that dead-ends into an office/residential complex near the Potomac River a bit further eastward.  But the other ~2100 feet

Pizzeria conversion: with one city’s Italian loss is another’s gain.

It’s a busy time of year and I need to meet my monthly blogging goals, so I’m going to cheat a little bit and piggyback on my previous article.  To be frank, it’s a double-cheat, since I usually try to avoid featuring the same state for two blog articles in a row.  But here I

Vintage retail video: is Kmart in 1999 better than anything today?

After inadvertently stumbling across some vintage footage of shopping culture from yesteryear, I couldn’t help but ask myself: Is it reasonable, at this point, to compare the revolution in how we consume goods with the old cliché of a boiling frog?  How much longer before we the frogs feel the temperature climbing?  Using any vintage

Novice Driver bumper stickers earn some much-needed sardonic sass.

I hate to keep revisiting this subject, but gosh darn it, the first time I did, it became one of my most popular articles.  I still get new responses every few weeks.  And the phenomenon itself just won’t go away; in fact, it seems to be getting worse.  Or better, if you agree with the

Lock box: the security safeguard in a low-trust era.

The photo below captures an item so banal that I don’t think it has yet entered popular conversation, and I’m not sure it ever will.  It isn’t controversial to my knowledge, and it’s hardly conspicuous enough to arouse ire for visual blight.  Yet.  Virtually everyone understands why they exist, or if they don’t understand, it

Demo cluster in Alexandria: why tear down respectable homes in a prosperous city?

Alexandria, Virginia, a place I cover frequently in this blog, is a medium sized city of considerable affluence.  Sitting directly across the river from the District of Columbia, it predates the founding of our nation’s capital by a good forty years, meaning it never intended to function as a suburb.  Neither a national capital nor

Jones Point Virginia: where two states diverge in a wood. Take the retrocession less traveled.

Many years ago, I met up with a friend in Belgium who took me to the nearby Dreiländerpunkt, where Belgium, Netherlands, and Germany converge, with boundaries lines vaguely resembling the logo for Mercedes-Benz.  How appropriately German.  The glories of the Schengen Agreement have, since 1995, eliminated the fortified boundaries that straitjacketed these small countries for

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