Rebecca Boone was listening to the radio one evening, and a caller casually mentioned that Frank Lloyd Wright invented the airplane. I'd love to see a design for that plane, she thought.

Before the Kensington resident had a chance to tell her friend in Chicago, he told her that he was watching the news and the announcers thought that Davy Crockett sang with the Monkees.

That prompted her to think that we may need to spend less time on politics and more time on history.


A seasoned commuter watched her train pull up to the Twinbrook station and noted with satisfaction that the car approaching her spot on the platform had plenty of available seats.

Must be vacation season, she thought to herself.


She and her fellow boarders were greeted with a thick cloud of air so stifling it felt as if one was surrounded in vaporized sweat as she had unsuspectingly wandered on to one of Metro's nonairconditioned rail cars.

Immediately she made her move, joining several other passengers to wait at the door closest to the head of the car. The crew pushed out at the following stop, rushing to make it to the next-closest car.

Our passenger thought about shouting a warning to the other riders waiting to board the Car of Suffocation who stared quizzically at the car-hopping crew. But she didn't want to get stranded.

They'll find out soon enough, she thought.


An impromptu dance party broke out Monday evening outside the Eastern Market Metro station.

A man was playing an accordion outside the station entrance. First, two small children started dancing, then a third approached. Their parents joined in, as well, dancing and spinning until the end of the song.


Braving the crowds and driving through Manassas on the day of Mitt Romney's campaign rally was no small task, but the Alexandria man knew he had to deliver his newly signed lease to his aunt, and the only way to her was through the masses.

He expected traffic, as Romney had announced Paul Ryan as his vice presidential pick earlier in the day, so he packed a drink and some chips and hit the road.

When he got to Old Town Manassas, however, he couldn't believe the chaos that he saw.

To his right, there was a motorcyclist driving down the sidewalk to avoid a nearby stoplight, and to the left, a cop, who should have been writing that motorcyclist a ticket, was having his police car washed. The stoplights hadn't been turned off, and other police cars were nowhere in sight.

"I guess the police and the candidates' security details don't actually care about them until they win," he thought to himself with a laugh.

Please send interesting anecdotes to potomacdiary@washingtonexaminer.com. Be sure to include your email and phone contacts.