Turning Summoners of Help Into Specimens of Art

As I watched Guy Brami daub paint on a renovated fire department call box on Idaho Avenue NW one chilly afternoon, a man brought his car to a stop, got out and walked up to us.

"Who's been doing this?" he wanted to know.

"This" was renovating 15 police and fire call boxes in Cleveland Park, giving them fresh coats of purple and gold paint and setting into their empty faces tiny works of art.

Cleveland Park is the latest District neighborhood to spruce up its call boxes, which in the days before you could dial 911 on your telephone were used to summon help. Local artists donated designs for the project, which was organized by the Cleveland Park Historical Society. Some of the money came from Cultural Tourism DC; the community raised the rest. Gelberg Signs, in the District since 1941, did the restoration work at little more than cost.

"It's nice to take part in a project that's historic," said Guy, who runs Gelberg with his two brothers.

Most of what Gelberg does is commercial work, and tectonic commercial shifts in the city mean that a business -- and its sign -- might not last too long. "But this piece of art will be here hopefully for decades," Guy said. "It's part of the neighborhood and will take on its own historic significance. . . . Literally, if we had the opportunity to do every call box in the city, we would be in every part of the city, able to leave our mark."

It turned out that the man who'd stopped his car was delighted. He had a special place in his heart for the call boxes. He said that as a boy he'd often activated them just to watch the firetrucks come.

His occupation today? He's a firefighter.

To see a video about Cleveland Park's spruced-up call boxes, go to http://www.washingtonpost.com/johnkelly.

It's Good to Be King, Er, President

Have you seen those stories about how President-elect Barack Obama is worried he'll disappear into the bubble? About how he's concerned that living in the White House will destroy the normalcy he's tried so hard to achieve for his family? Awww, poor Mr. Pwesident.

If I were in his position, I'd say bring on the bubble! Let me live in a mansion with butlers and chefs and liveried footmen and armed guards. Let me live a life where the words "I don't want to trouble you, but [insert odd request here]" are always followed by the words "It's no trouble at all, Mr. President. I'd be happy to [fulfill odd request]."

The White House. Obama doesn't have to worry about finding a babysitter. Or mowing the lawn. Or having a neighbor who leaves his barking dog outside all night. He doesn't have to try to remember whether he's paid his Verizon Wireless bill. Or do little wife-ordered fix-it jobs around the house. In fact, he's got the perfect excuse: "Honey, this is a historic property. I'm not allowed to grout the tub."