Here's a brief excerpt from a Washington Post article that was written about the subject of my ire nearly ten years ago:

The Del Ray neighborhood in Alexandria exudes friendliness.

Everywhere there are porches and someone to wave at a passerby. On Saturday mornings, neighbors gather on Mount Vernon Avenue at the outdoor patio of St. Elmo's coffee shop, browse the antiques stores or admire the fresh herbs and tomatoes at the farmers market.

The neighborhood, with its vintage homes, wide porches and ample lawns, seems like a time capsule, an ideal 1950s neighborhood that has fresh appeal in the 1990s.

"Porches," is Mary Ann Kirkpatrick's one-word answer when asked why she and husband John bought in Del Ray about a year ago. Their Cape Cod house is just off of Mount Vernon Avenue with a 10-foot-wide porch.

Large, leafy houseplants frame two chairs and one table, making the porch an outdoor living room. An oil lamp converts the open space to a reading room on warm evenings.

The second reason she gave for choosing Del Ray is two words: "72 steps."

"I am exactly 72 steps away from my job," she said. "We even sold one of our two cars."

Kirkpatrick works part time at the the Candle Garden, a pale-yellow Victorian house on Mount Vernon Avenue with hammocks, throws and birdhouses displayed on the wide, wraparound porch. Inside, in what was once a living room, hand-rolled beeswax candles in 41 colors fill shelves, boxes and baskets.

Store owner Suzanne McDuffee lives above her shop.

Del Ray's boundaries are generally considered to be Route 1 on the east, Braddock Road on the south, Commonwealth Avenue on the west and East Glebe Road on the north. However, the Del Ray Citizens Association extends its borders to Russell Road on the west side.

The candle store is across from a florist who displays fresh flowers in buckets on the sidewalk. A block up the street are the coffee shop and antiques stores. On Saturdays, about a dozen farmers draw residents to a nearby parking lot, where they sell flowers, vegetables and fruit from tables and the back of trucks.

This village atmosphere extends to the residential streets where U.S. flags and seasonal banners fly, said Del Ray Citizens Association President Regina Oliver.

"This is a slice of the '50s," Oliver said. "We have a porch, a garden and a flag outside."

VOM.

I'm unfortunate enough to work in this neighborhood. I work at a car dealership on Mt. Vernon Ave, the "main street" of Del Ray's bile-inducing slogan: "Where Main Street Still Exists." There are only two car dealers on this strip, and given that I have a computer to use when I'm at work it's pretty easy to figure out that I don't work at Hyundai. But enough about me. Or maybe not. I grew up on the other side of South Glebe Road in Arlington, VA, the bordering county - the smallest county in Virginia, in fact. As a child, I went to church at Emmanuel Episcopal, which is located on Russell Road - one of the disputed border streets of this neighborhood. I'm a native Northern Virginian and I'm proud of it as anyone who knows me will attest.

THAT BEING SAID - Del Ray is a huge thorn in my side. The first time I was tangibly aware of it was when my mom came home from hanging out with some of her friends, laughing about how one of them had proposed that they spend their time "walking down The Avenue" (inappropriate use of capitalization intended). My mother had no idea what her friend was talking about - after all, referring to a street - or even an avenue, for that matter - without mentioning the name is something you do when you're strolling down the Champs Elysees or checking out the sights in New York City. Imagine her amusement when my mother, a well traveled woman who has spent the majority of her life traveling away from home, learned that "The Avenue" was a pissant two lane street in the middle of a DC suburb!!

Perhaps a great deal of my angst about this subject is that I grew up in a neighborhood very unlike Del Ray - filled with higher-level government employees (Al Gore lived about half a mile away from our house), ranking members of the military (Admiral Hyman [lol] Rickover lived on the same floor as my parents in the apartment we lived in before we moved to our house less than a mile away) and people who, in general, while friendly are nothing if not un-neighborly. Don't get me wrong, its not like there weren't friendly people on my street when I grew up, but we NEVER had anything remotely resembling a "block party" and in the time that I lived at my parents house (from 1982-1999) there were exactly three families with kids my age, total. Over 17 years. We aren't neighborly. We stick to ourselves. Leave us alone!!!

Am I jaded? Absolutely. Cynical? Definitely. Pretentious? No question. Somewhat of an asshole? Probably, but it makes my friends laugh so I'm going to keep on doing what I'm doin'.

In the next few posts (and trust me, there are going to be a LOT) I am going to ponder and discuss the following conundrums:

1) Why people move here and who they are (hints: young couples that aren't QUITE hip enough to pull off living in Adam's Morgan or Logan Circle)
2) Why anyone would want to live in a neighborhood that is reminiscent of the 50's (general economic prosperity mixed with racial turmoil, poodle skirts and 12-seater station wagons with wood paneling...oh, and that whole Cold War thing)
3) Which parenting book Del Reyans read that leads them to believe that allowing a child to roam around screaming and dropping crumbs is acceptable behavior - and, on that subject:
4) Whether or not there are ANY females of child-bearing age in this neighborhood that aren't pregnant or have not been so within the past twelve months

More to come, kids.* Stay tuned.

*Special trivia question: Which famous Del Ray resident began referring to his friends as "kids" as soon as he moved to the neighborhood? Here's a hint: his wife isn't pregs yet, but they have two yappy dogs...