Well... Talk about a HOME Vacation.... Janet is reuniting with a bunch of her sorority sisters/drinking buddies at her house tonight! There is a lot of beer and as they crackle with laughter in the other room I'm watching the Yankees win another game in the postseason. Actually, I'm having a great time, making beer runs for the ladies in between innings.
It is very comforting to be a part of this though. Janet is certainly very happy to be with these people, some of whom she's not seen in 30 years!!!! Having been around the world, literally, a couple of times, it is wonderful to see such love and affection transcend decades. Home is the place to be.....
If only we could turn off the damned awful music.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
whew
Well...somehow I survived the Eagles game! I clapped and cheered and high-fived with the best of them, because I didn't really have a dog in the fight... That comes next week with Michael Vick joining the birds.... Seriously though I didn't care which way the game turned out....although as a fan of the NFC East Giants the Eagles stand in the way of my team's success....
Well, it was a blow out. The Eagles lost 44-28. The fans quieted with the growing gap in the score and the crowds dissipated. Janet and I stayed until the very end, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine from the upper regions of Lincoln Financial Field, our legs stretched out and sipping the last of our beer. Somehow I survived, although I was the only person in the entire stadium not wearing something "eagle" like....
Well, it was a blow out. The Eagles lost 44-28. The fans quieted with the growing gap in the score and the crowds dissipated. Janet and I stayed until the very end, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine from the upper regions of Lincoln Financial Field, our legs stretched out and sipping the last of our beer. Somehow I survived, although I was the only person in the entire stadium not wearing something "eagle" like....
Friday, September 18, 2009
fly eagles fly
Okay...all of you who read this blog know my devotion to the NY Giants. Well, the extremely viable other half of this Home Vacation Team has decided to test my mettle and has scored tickets for the Philadelphia Eagles / New Orleans Saints contest this Sunday. Doubly dangerous for this sorry ass Giants fan is that the seats are in the notoriously raucous nose bleed seats. We will be just a few rows from the upper rim of the stadium.
Hopefully no one will "help" me act out the Eagles Fight Song....
(go giants...ssshhhh)
Hopefully no one will "help" me act out the Eagles Fight Song....
(go giants...ssshhhh)
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
9-9-09
So... here I am on this supposedly portentous day trying to figure out if it's a good one or not. The number 9 is considered a complete number by numerologists. It is the highest number of a sequence... i.e. 1-9, 10-19, etc. A date like today, 9/9/09, is the last set of repeating single digit dates until 1/1/2101. It's also effectively the end of summer. Labor day came two days ago and though we've got until the 21st, the skies are already gloomy and the air cooler.
Our last official hurrah for the summer was another trek down to Delaware. Our gracious hosts again opened their home to us and we spent the weekend at the somewhat dodgy shores of the First State. Friday we kicked around the house after laying in a supply of beer and food. On Saturday we visited Herring Point at Cape Henlopen. This state park holds a special significance to Carl and Jill as they have been a part of an educational team from their Pennsylvania school district that brings kids here each year.
We kicked back by the murky waves and watched people and their dogs. Janet and I then clamored over a jetty and weaved past a long line of suv's parked on the beach and ducked past fishing lines strung from surf poles stuck in the sand and people playing loud games of horseshoes. We walked quite a distance; nearly to Rehobeth Beach and only turned around at the first military tower that rises ominously from the surf like a stubborn old coot refusing to move away. We circled the sentinel and turned around for our chairs.
We never made it Rehobeth Beach proper, nor did we go to the Dogfish Head Brewery tour in Milton; two things we had planned. The weekend was instead like a long nap. Saturday night I prepared my ever popular "Chicken Dunaj" and we were all nodding off like the old folks we are no later than 10 p.m.
Sunday we left for home, but not until we went to Broadkill Beach for a few hours. It is literally a spit of sand on the bay, littered with horseshoe crab shells. You have to drive miles through the Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge which is beautiful and there is a little snack shop right near the beach entrance that serves great milk shakes, but I've never been a great fan of Broadkill.
There is a dingy feel to it and I'd rather drive the extra miles to a resort beach.
My opinion of Broadkill changed a lot when we visited Carl and Jill's neighbors. They own a large home in a gated community a few miles north of Broadkill proper. Situated right on the water and with lots of room the beach seemed wider and the water less murky and more ocean than bay. This particular day the wind was kicking up and their friends were out in small sailing boats and their kids and dogs were either cavorting in the water or splashing in the pool.
It was humbling. Looking at the wealth displayed I was painfully aware of my personal lack of intelligence.
Sadly, I was unable to make a beeline for the Dogfish head brewery pub in Rehobeth, for we had to leave for home. This is a good thing, for I might have remained there, chaining myself to one of the taps.
Thanks for reading this blog. I guess it has had its run. Still as time permits and events and places reveal themselves to me, I will add more. Hope you have enjoyed everything so far.
love,
greg
Our last official hurrah for the summer was another trek down to Delaware. Our gracious hosts again opened their home to us and we spent the weekend at the somewhat dodgy shores of the First State. Friday we kicked around the house after laying in a supply of beer and food. On Saturday we visited Herring Point at Cape Henlopen. This state park holds a special significance to Carl and Jill as they have been a part of an educational team from their Pennsylvania school district that brings kids here each year.
We kicked back by the murky waves and watched people and their dogs. Janet and I then clamored over a jetty and weaved past a long line of suv's parked on the beach and ducked past fishing lines strung from surf poles stuck in the sand and people playing loud games of horseshoes. We walked quite a distance; nearly to Rehobeth Beach and only turned around at the first military tower that rises ominously from the surf like a stubborn old coot refusing to move away. We circled the sentinel and turned around for our chairs.
We never made it Rehobeth Beach proper, nor did we go to the Dogfish Head Brewery tour in Milton; two things we had planned. The weekend was instead like a long nap. Saturday night I prepared my ever popular "Chicken Dunaj" and we were all nodding off like the old folks we are no later than 10 p.m.
Sunday we left for home, but not until we went to Broadkill Beach for a few hours. It is literally a spit of sand on the bay, littered with horseshoe crab shells. You have to drive miles through the Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge which is beautiful and there is a little snack shop right near the beach entrance that serves great milk shakes, but I've never been a great fan of Broadkill.
There is a dingy feel to it and I'd rather drive the extra miles to a resort beach.
My opinion of Broadkill changed a lot when we visited Carl and Jill's neighbors. They own a large home in a gated community a few miles north of Broadkill proper. Situated right on the water and with lots of room the beach seemed wider and the water less murky and more ocean than bay. This particular day the wind was kicking up and their friends were out in small sailing boats and their kids and dogs were either cavorting in the water or splashing in the pool.
It was humbling. Looking at the wealth displayed I was painfully aware of my personal lack of intelligence.
Sadly, I was unable to make a beeline for the Dogfish head brewery pub in Rehobeth, for we had to leave for home. This is a good thing, for I might have remained there, chaining myself to one of the taps.
Thanks for reading this blog. I guess it has had its run. Still as time permits and events and places reveal themselves to me, I will add more. Hope you have enjoyed everything so far.
love,
greg
Saturday, August 29, 2009
endless summer
Well this has been a curious week for your most favored friendly and vivacious home vacation team as one of us had to return to work! I suppose it was inevitable that the new school year would begin for Janet, no matter how long the days of summer. At least she had no students this first week and was able to ease into the routine of her job.
I on the other hand remain gainfully unemployed. I am on permanent hiatis. My summer remains endless. Of course it's not without trying to change the situation. I keep buying lottery tickets........
But, rather than continuing to bore you with details of my financial ruin, I'll get right back into the activities of the past weekend.
Rain cancelled a concert at the park that is across the street from Janet's place. Inclement weather has sadly ruined much of the summer's slate of activities, for such shows were cause for impromptu parties at Janet's house. People would amble back and forth from the show to her house for the plumbing and libations would be poured. Location location location.
Well, this past Friday's concert was cancelled because of rain but the lovely and charming Leslie came to the rescue and offered her own home as a gathering place for a small party. With a table laden with meatballs and homemade hummus and bruscetta (sic?) and a nice selection of beers and drinks we were graced with her kindness and hospitality. Another friend and her daughter came over eventually and we gathered around the food and chatted into the night.
Now you may ask how is a man able to endure such a lengthy time with three women talking about "women" things?
Beer.
Actually it was a lot of fun, except when the conversation lolled off into a long tangent about hot flashes and menopause.... At that point I had to stand up and scratch myself and go into the bathroom.... for a long time.
When I came back I tried to steer the chatter towards sports and was told to take out the garbage!
Hopefully you'll realize I am exaggerating. It was a very nice night and it was an honor to be accepted into this new circle of friends.
On Saturday we traveled back to New Jersey to the Howell Farm Fiddling Contest! Howell Farm is a living history museum, just on the outskirts of Lambertville. It was a great place when my children were younger to bring them for a free afternoon. According to their website, Howell Farm is an educational facility open to the public that preserves and interprets farming life and processes from the era of 1890-1910. www.howellfarm.com/ Best of all it was FREE. The kids could see and sometimes pet sheep and chickens and horses and pigs. They were often allowed to go into the hen house to fetch freshly laid eggs. They were able to participate in arts and crafts, go on hay rides, easter egg hunts, draw water from a hand pump, help dig for potatoes and watch people in period dress tap maple trees for syrup.
In the 20 years I've lived in Lambertville Howell Farm has grown up. It used to be a sleepy place, but last weekend the place was humming. There is a new "barn" that is the welcoming building and where they held their annual fiddle contest. Each participant was allowed two songs. Sometimes they were solo, sometimes they were accompanied by a banjo, guitar or bass fiddle. There were kids and adults playing and two different categories. The youth division was won by a boy who played beyond his years and the adult was won by rotund fellow that played with such flourish that the crowd cheered wildly when he finished. Most of the music was "bluegrass" and we heard more than one version of "Turkey in The Straw," but because of the two song limit we were not bored as the styles changed with every peformer.
There was home made ice cream and food for purchase and a young woman gave out tickets when we entered for door prizes like honey and Trenton Thunder baseball tickets. No purchase was necessary for the tickets, they just handed them out when we entered.
It was a good day. I'm considering going back this Labor Day weekend for their annual Plowing Match!
I on the other hand remain gainfully unemployed. I am on permanent hiatis. My summer remains endless. Of course it's not without trying to change the situation. I keep buying lottery tickets........
But, rather than continuing to bore you with details of my financial ruin, I'll get right back into the activities of the past weekend.
Rain cancelled a concert at the park that is across the street from Janet's place. Inclement weather has sadly ruined much of the summer's slate of activities, for such shows were cause for impromptu parties at Janet's house. People would amble back and forth from the show to her house for the plumbing and libations would be poured. Location location location.
Well, this past Friday's concert was cancelled because of rain but the lovely and charming Leslie came to the rescue and offered her own home as a gathering place for a small party. With a table laden with meatballs and homemade hummus and bruscetta (sic?) and a nice selection of beers and drinks we were graced with her kindness and hospitality. Another friend and her daughter came over eventually and we gathered around the food and chatted into the night.
Now you may ask how is a man able to endure such a lengthy time with three women talking about "women" things?
Beer.
Actually it was a lot of fun, except when the conversation lolled off into a long tangent about hot flashes and menopause.... At that point I had to stand up and scratch myself and go into the bathroom.... for a long time.
When I came back I tried to steer the chatter towards sports and was told to take out the garbage!
Hopefully you'll realize I am exaggerating. It was a very nice night and it was an honor to be accepted into this new circle of friends.
On Saturday we traveled back to New Jersey to the Howell Farm Fiddling Contest! Howell Farm is a living history museum, just on the outskirts of Lambertville. It was a great place when my children were younger to bring them for a free afternoon. According to their website, Howell Farm is an educational facility open to the public that preserves and interprets farming life and processes from the era of 1890-1910. www.howellfarm.com/ Best of all it was FREE. The kids could see and sometimes pet sheep and chickens and horses and pigs. They were often allowed to go into the hen house to fetch freshly laid eggs. They were able to participate in arts and crafts, go on hay rides, easter egg hunts, draw water from a hand pump, help dig for potatoes and watch people in period dress tap maple trees for syrup.
In the 20 years I've lived in Lambertville Howell Farm has grown up. It used to be a sleepy place, but last weekend the place was humming. There is a new "barn" that is the welcoming building and where they held their annual fiddle contest. Each participant was allowed two songs. Sometimes they were solo, sometimes they were accompanied by a banjo, guitar or bass fiddle. There were kids and adults playing and two different categories. The youth division was won by a boy who played beyond his years and the adult was won by rotund fellow that played with such flourish that the crowd cheered wildly when he finished. Most of the music was "bluegrass" and we heard more than one version of "Turkey in The Straw," but because of the two song limit we were not bored as the styles changed with every peformer.
There was home made ice cream and food for purchase and a young woman gave out tickets when we entered for door prizes like honey and Trenton Thunder baseball tickets. No purchase was necessary for the tickets, they just handed them out when we entered.
It was a good day. I'm considering going back this Labor Day weekend for their annual Plowing Match!
Sunday, August 23, 2009
nothing to squawk about....
Now I must remind you my dear loyal wonderful readers that though I am in Lambertville and much closer to Philadelphia than NYC, I remain a loyal fan of all New York sports. Funny part is, I am dating a fan as devout as I to her hometown sports.
It makes for some difficult times. Yes, she roots for the Eagles and the Phillies... I root for the Giants and Yankees.... Thankfully the one thing we can agree upon is the Mets. We're not fans of that team, for a myriad of reasons and because of this an uneasy coexistance permeates our lives together. Of course, as the lead members of your Home Vacation Team we remain professional in our quest to find all things good and cheap and fun to share with you.
Janet, who has T.O.'s number tattooed on her shoulder and loves dressing as Donovan McNabb on Halloween and goes into convulsions every time Chase Utley is at bat, purchased tickets in March to a Phillies/Diamonbacks game for August 18th; this past Tuesday. I cannot afford to purchase similar tickets at Yankee Stadium and she got hers at the incredible price of $39 per, which included preferred parking passes! Best of all, it turns out that Pedro Martinez, a pitcher I've admired since his days with the Boston Red Sox and the New York Mets, had come out of retirement to pitch for the Sillies...sorry.... had to slip that in!... and was making his second start for the team that night! As a fan of the game I was terribly excited.
We first had a couple of beers and some wings at the iconic Chickie's and Pete's Crab House and Sports Bar. According to my Philadelphia counterpart of the equally iconic Home Vacation Team, "Chickie" is a South Philadelphia nickname for Charles....not some girl in a bikini.... The vast open bar was buzzing with excitement; the last time Martinez pitched the Phillies won 12-3. The wings were crunchy and hot and most importantly, reasonably priced. We had just one beer each and nothing else to eat; we wanted to save ourselves for the ball park. So, with thoughts of crab fries and mussels and burgers toying with our palates, we drove across Broad Street into the south Philadelphia sports complex and Citizen's Bank Park.
Our seats were just beyond first base about 17 rows back; great seats to get whacked by a foul ball. Before we took our seats though, we had to eat. We toured the ballpark and walked along the perimeter ogling all the fine cuisine available. There were several cheese steak stands, the Schmitter, created by McNally's in Chestnut Hill, was available and all the typical food available at ballparks throughout the country. But, at CBP at someplace called Asburn Alley is Greg "The Bull" Luzinski's Bull's BBQ! I had been to the park once before with my friend Stan, a big Phillie's fan and he introduced me to Luzinski and the great bbq his place serves and was thankful that Janet too was looking forward to eating here. We bought a couple of Pulled Pork Sandwiches bought some Yards Philadelphia Pale Ales and the Brewerytown beer stand just opposite of our section 113 and stood at the counter that edges all the seating on the concourse level and enjoyed our meal. The phenomenal part of this whole escapade is that all the beers, whether it be Miller Lite or a craft brew like Yards, are all priced exactly the same. They may be typically steep at $6.75, but at least you can drink quality beer for the same price as swill.
Janet has spoken often about her times at the ballpark, about how she and her friend, Carol, another fan of the World Champion Phillies, know right where to go for the best beers and the foods they enjoy eating at the park and at Chickie's and Pete's. Janet has told me several times about two particular vendors that ply the aisles and as much as the game I was looking forward to seeing these two. One is a dour old man who mumbles something that is not understood. If he did not hold aloft a Crackerjack box, one would never know what he was selling. Another was a squawking Miller Lite guy who wears a fake parrot on his shoulder and periodically dons an eye patch like some modern privateer. He squawks and yells and well, if you look for the video attached to today's entry, you'll get a better idea of his personal zaniness.
Of course, there was a game too. It turned out that Pedro Martinez, a pitcher whose career I've followed since he pitched for the hated Boston Red Sox, was making his second start for the Phillies. While there he was involved in a fight with the Yankees old bench coach, Don Zimmer. Zimmer had charged him when the benches emptied for whatever reason and Pedro tossed the rotund old man to the ground. He was a good pitcher and hated by the Yankees, which was nice that he eventually signed with the equally despised (by Yankee fans) NY Mets. He was with the Mets for a few years and then retired. This was his second game for the Phillies and the place was sold out. In any event he gave up a homer to the first Diamonbacks batter and the second man up reached base. The joint was grumbling a bit, but after that the seasoned pro shut them down for three innings. Then a long rain delay sat him down for the rest of the night. Clouds in the twilight sky turned inky black with slashes of brilliant blue light illuminating their outline. It had been very hot and humid and the wind picked up swirling debris through the stands, cooling us. After the third inning though the grounds crew sprinted out onto the field, though it had not yet begun to rain. We, along with everyone else in the stands, took this as a cue to leave for they obviously knew what was coming. Sure enough, within minutes a torrential rain soaked us, for we were unable to get up the stadium stairs in time because everyone was doing the same thing. Finally reaching shelter we dripped into fresh beers as we watched the sky crackle with lightning and the wind lashed the rain sideways.
A lot of people left, but the rain eventually let up enough to continue the game. Pedro was replaced by Jamie Moyer who shut the D-backs down as the Phillies poured on the runs.... (like the rain reference?) Many people left and we first moved down and over to within a few rows of first base. While there a ball being tossed around between innings whistled by my head. I watched, stupidly, as the thing banged against the empty seats behind me, rolled under my feet and into the aisle in front of us and was grabbed by some woman who just happened to be picking up errant kernels of popcorn from the floor when it plopped into her portly flippers. I didn't react at all, or more importantly, made the right decision to protect my beer!
Eventually we slinked our way down to the dugout, which was almost a big mistake. Had I not tackled the enthusiastic Janet before she clamored onto the Phillies dugout she would surely had sought more than autographs from her favored team! Neither of us had ever been this close to the field and we cheered the team on for the final 2 innings from this precious perch. It was a great night, even if a "Bull Dog" grilled kielbasa we shared during the rain delay wanted to come back and visit us in the middle of the night....
Update: This Sunday the Phillies ended a game with the New York Mets with an unassisted Triple Play. The last time this happened was in 1927 and only the second time it had ever happened in major league play. The runners were moving with the pitch and second baseman, Eric Bruntlett, (filling in for the resting Chase Utley) caught a line drive, stepped on second and tagged out the advancing runner from first.
We had gone to Brother Paul's, an Eagleville tavern with a very nice selection of beers for some wings and beer, where we had caught this unlikely event. Serendipity and chance are powerful things, for we were out galavanting around when I offered to buy Janet an afternoon libation and the old stone bar was the nearest joint. Good fortune seems to follow us around!
It makes for some difficult times. Yes, she roots for the Eagles and the Phillies... I root for the Giants and Yankees.... Thankfully the one thing we can agree upon is the Mets. We're not fans of that team, for a myriad of reasons and because of this an uneasy coexistance permeates our lives together. Of course, as the lead members of your Home Vacation Team we remain professional in our quest to find all things good and cheap and fun to share with you.
Janet, who has T.O.'s number tattooed on her shoulder and loves dressing as Donovan McNabb on Halloween and goes into convulsions every time Chase Utley is at bat, purchased tickets in March to a Phillies/Diamonbacks game for August 18th; this past Tuesday. I cannot afford to purchase similar tickets at Yankee Stadium and she got hers at the incredible price of $39 per, which included preferred parking passes! Best of all, it turns out that Pedro Martinez, a pitcher I've admired since his days with the Boston Red Sox and the New York Mets, had come out of retirement to pitch for the Sillies...sorry.... had to slip that in!... and was making his second start for the team that night! As a fan of the game I was terribly excited.
We first had a couple of beers and some wings at the iconic Chickie's and Pete's Crab House and Sports Bar. According to my Philadelphia counterpart of the equally iconic Home Vacation Team, "Chickie" is a South Philadelphia nickname for Charles....not some girl in a bikini.... The vast open bar was buzzing with excitement; the last time Martinez pitched the Phillies won 12-3. The wings were crunchy and hot and most importantly, reasonably priced. We had just one beer each and nothing else to eat; we wanted to save ourselves for the ball park. So, with thoughts of crab fries and mussels and burgers toying with our palates, we drove across Broad Street into the south Philadelphia sports complex and Citizen's Bank Park.
Our seats were just beyond first base about 17 rows back; great seats to get whacked by a foul ball. Before we took our seats though, we had to eat. We toured the ballpark and walked along the perimeter ogling all the fine cuisine available. There were several cheese steak stands, the Schmitter, created by McNally's in Chestnut Hill, was available and all the typical food available at ballparks throughout the country. But, at CBP at someplace called Asburn Alley is Greg "The Bull" Luzinski's Bull's BBQ! I had been to the park once before with my friend Stan, a big Phillie's fan and he introduced me to Luzinski and the great bbq his place serves and was thankful that Janet too was looking forward to eating here. We bought a couple of Pulled Pork Sandwiches bought some Yards Philadelphia Pale Ales and the Brewerytown beer stand just opposite of our section 113 and stood at the counter that edges all the seating on the concourse level and enjoyed our meal. The phenomenal part of this whole escapade is that all the beers, whether it be Miller Lite or a craft brew like Yards, are all priced exactly the same. They may be typically steep at $6.75, but at least you can drink quality beer for the same price as swill.
Janet has spoken often about her times at the ballpark, about how she and her friend, Carol, another fan of the World Champion Phillies, know right where to go for the best beers and the foods they enjoy eating at the park and at Chickie's and Pete's. Janet has told me several times about two particular vendors that ply the aisles and as much as the game I was looking forward to seeing these two. One is a dour old man who mumbles something that is not understood. If he did not hold aloft a Crackerjack box, one would never know what he was selling. Another was a squawking Miller Lite guy who wears a fake parrot on his shoulder and periodically dons an eye patch like some modern privateer. He squawks and yells and well, if you look for the video attached to today's entry, you'll get a better idea of his personal zaniness.
Of course, there was a game too. It turned out that Pedro Martinez, a pitcher whose career I've followed since he pitched for the hated Boston Red Sox, was making his second start for the Phillies. While there he was involved in a fight with the Yankees old bench coach, Don Zimmer. Zimmer had charged him when the benches emptied for whatever reason and Pedro tossed the rotund old man to the ground. He was a good pitcher and hated by the Yankees, which was nice that he eventually signed with the equally despised (by Yankee fans) NY Mets. He was with the Mets for a few years and then retired. This was his second game for the Phillies and the place was sold out. In any event he gave up a homer to the first Diamonbacks batter and the second man up reached base. The joint was grumbling a bit, but after that the seasoned pro shut them down for three innings. Then a long rain delay sat him down for the rest of the night. Clouds in the twilight sky turned inky black with slashes of brilliant blue light illuminating their outline. It had been very hot and humid and the wind picked up swirling debris through the stands, cooling us. After the third inning though the grounds crew sprinted out onto the field, though it had not yet begun to rain. We, along with everyone else in the stands, took this as a cue to leave for they obviously knew what was coming. Sure enough, within minutes a torrential rain soaked us, for we were unable to get up the stadium stairs in time because everyone was doing the same thing. Finally reaching shelter we dripped into fresh beers as we watched the sky crackle with lightning and the wind lashed the rain sideways.
A lot of people left, but the rain eventually let up enough to continue the game. Pedro was replaced by Jamie Moyer who shut the D-backs down as the Phillies poured on the runs.... (like the rain reference?) Many people left and we first moved down and over to within a few rows of first base. While there a ball being tossed around between innings whistled by my head. I watched, stupidly, as the thing banged against the empty seats behind me, rolled under my feet and into the aisle in front of us and was grabbed by some woman who just happened to be picking up errant kernels of popcorn from the floor when it plopped into her portly flippers. I didn't react at all, or more importantly, made the right decision to protect my beer!
Eventually we slinked our way down to the dugout, which was almost a big mistake. Had I not tackled the enthusiastic Janet before she clamored onto the Phillies dugout she would surely had sought more than autographs from her favored team! Neither of us had ever been this close to the field and we cheered the team on for the final 2 innings from this precious perch. It was a great night, even if a "Bull Dog" grilled kielbasa we shared during the rain delay wanted to come back and visit us in the middle of the night....
Update: This Sunday the Phillies ended a game with the New York Mets with an unassisted Triple Play. The last time this happened was in 1927 and only the second time it had ever happened in major league play. The runners were moving with the pitch and second baseman, Eric Bruntlett, (filling in for the resting Chase Utley) caught a line drive, stepped on second and tagged out the advancing runner from first.
We had gone to Brother Paul's, an Eagleville tavern with a very nice selection of beers for some wings and beer, where we had caught this unlikely event. Serendipity and chance are powerful things, for we were out galavanting around when I offered to buy Janet an afternoon libation and the old stone bar was the nearest joint. Good fortune seems to follow us around!
Monday, August 17, 2009
in the navy
Sweet.... There's nothing like a long weekend vacation at someone else's home, especially when you get your own comfortable bed! No couch, no blow up mattress that deflates around 3:35 a.m.! A real bed, with air conditioning no less. There were plenty of beers too.... It was a great weekend. The only thing that would have made it perfect is a boat....and our hostess is working on that.
A dear friend of your favorite Home Vacation Team, Tracy, recently had to move to Annapolis, MD for her job and wanted friends to visit her in her new place. Tracy also invited Carl and Jill down; it was Jill's birthday. What followed was a liquor induced hazy weekend that I will try and reconstruct with this entry.
A dear friend of your favorite Home Vacation Team, Tracy, recently had to move to Annapolis, MD for her job and wanted friends to visit her in her new place. Tracy also invited Carl and Jill down; it was Jill's birthday. What followed was a liquor induced hazy weekend that I will try and reconstruct with this entry.
Laden with bottles of wine as gifts for our hostess, Janet and I drove down on Thursday night. Typical of all my driving routes, we avoided Route 95 and took the somewhat roundabout way through the eastern shore of Maryland and over the Bay Bridge. Actually, according to Google maps both routes were equal in distance and time. But the route going down Route 301 and the Bay Bridge had no tolls in this direction. Remember...cheap...
Most of the traffic was heading east towards shore points and we avoided any drastic traffic jams. This is not usually the case as we learned the hard way on Saturday when we drove to Kent Island and on Sunday afternoon for our return. Still, we arrived pretty much the same time as the other guests, despite the seemingly meandering way.
After relaxing a bit we took a taxi to a restaurant on the South River for their delectable half priced happy hour appetizers. The bar area of Yellowfin was crowded with patrons aware of the good food served here. We each ordered an appetizer. Janet had a "Rainbow Tower" which had three different types of raw fish, layered between large fried won tons. I had fish and chips; pedestrian by comparison. As we chatted we watched the sun glint off the vast windows overlooking the scenic marina.
We took another taxi into Annapolis proper to walk along Dock Street to ogle with the rest of the hoi polloi gathered here on this hot night the yachts of the well-heeled. After yet another quick drink in the Middleton Tavern and attempting to negotiate its warren of corridors to find the men's room, we took a taxi back to Tracy's to drink even more.
Jill's birthday was Friday. She spent most of the day wishing she was not hungover. Tracy had to work and the rest of us drove into Washington, D.C. for the museums. We had a limited amount of time though, and Jill was of very limited means. So, we settled for two museums. First we went to the Museum of Natural History. We found a fortuitous parking spot directly in front of the place on Constitution Avenue. We then saw a head spinning 3D film about dinosaurs, the Hope Diamond and several dinosaur skeletons. Surprisingly Jill held up pretty well, even when we walked across the Mall to hit the Air and Space Museum. There we oohed and aahed over the various displays of airplanes and capsules from the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo missions. Janet was especially interested in the World War II displays of aircraft because she had an uncle that served as a tail gunner. I dragged her through the WWI display. We then separated from Jill and Carl at this point, because we went on to meet my daughter for her 23rd birthday.
Ally has been living down in Maryland just outside of Baltimore with her mother since she left school last spring. She's not returning to Florida this fall and she agreed to meet for a birthday dinner. Jill was too tired from cavorting about the night before and declined to meet her birthday partner, Ally, though she and Carl had expressed an interest in meeting my vivacious first born. A friend from the D.C. area recommended a place called Busboys and Poets. A restaurant, bookstore and bar, it's reference is to Langston Hughes who worked as a busboy before gaining recognition as a poet. It's eclectic clientle and menu in the high ceiling airy place made for a pleasant place to meet my girl. Modertly priced, Janet had a meatloaf sandwich, Ally a hamburger and I a blackened Mahi sandwich, each priced under $10.00. Bright sunlight streamed through the tall windows as Ally smiled over the modest gifts I had gotten her. As a Dad it's always great to have your daughter smile at you.
After seeing my daughter drive off out of my life for another four months or so, Janet and I toured D.C. a bit. We drove along Embassy Row on Massachusetts, through Georgetown and searched for the "Exorcist Stairs" and over to Arlington Cemetery, which was closed for the day. We then drove back across the Potomac River and walked through the impressive Jefferson Memorial as the waning light of day turned the dome a dusty pink. We stood next to the statue and peered out onto the Tidal Basin and thought how nice it was to be here. I've always liked this town; I had been here several times over the years. I've run three marathons here and while in high school studied journalism one summer long long ago. This was Janet's first trip.
We finished our visit to D.C. with a drive by the Capitol. Bullards prevented us from getting close by car so we drove slowly by, careful not to slow our pace too much. We felt like we were being watched intently until we left the capitol hill area. We slipped quickly along route 50 and the drive back to Tracy's townhome was quiet. We arrived to find Jill convulsing in a dry-heave to the Rolling Stones, while her husband tapped a beer bottle to compliment Charles Watts' rhythmic drumming. No matter how many drinks we inbibed we would never catch up with this bacchanalia.
Saturday was spent driving around on Kent Island and finding more places to drink. After fighting traffic across the Bay Bridge we briefly toured a golf course then hit a couple of bars situated right on the marinas. I asked about crabs, but they were far too expensive! A dozen "jumbo" at the first place was in the neighborhood of $70.00. Everywhere at The Crab Deck people were banging and prying at the pile of critters before them, but we settled for beers and moved on to the next place. It was a biker bar. Red Eyes Dock Bar had some event going and there were a lot of tattooed, pierced, doo-ragged, overweight biker types left over even though by the time we arrived most of the festivities seemed to winding down. A cover band played music as eclectic as Sublime to Prince. But, there was no admission and the beers were the same price as the last place, so we settled in at a table next to the water for a few. The sun was warm, but the water (and beers) kept us cool. Moving on we decided to stay in the Kent Island Narrows area rather than return to Annapolis for dinner. We ate a decent meal at a Fisherman's Wharf that had a lionel train set tootling around a track suspended from the ceiling. I had a spinach salad with blackened mahi. It was good, but it was way too overpriced.
Only Janet andI went out to Annapolis later that night. The other three wanted to stay home, but it was far too early for us and we found a parking spot and walked around the town again. I purchased a cigar and we watched as sailors in their dress whites stroll the town with their dates. We window shopped and admired the old homes. We peered into the dark campus of the Academy and kissed on the dock of the National Sailing Hall of Fame.
Sunday we went for a lunch with Tracy at a chain craft brewer in something called Parole, Maryland. It was in a mall. The beers were decent and the prices reasonable.
Monday, August 10, 2009
winkys, wings and hop devils
Ah ... welcome to another edition of Vacations From Home my dear and dedicated blog readers! I went for a physical exam the other week and let me tell you it was not a lot of fun. I'm in good health and good spirits, but boy oh boy my indignity is less than intact! And...there's more tests in the future.... I'm thinking the Who had it right in their song...My Generation..."Hope I die before I get old..." Truthfully though, the alternative is not very appealing... So, I'll submit to pokes and probes as needed... I just wish the doctor would give me flowers when she's done.....
Winkys....A lovely word. I was introduced to "winky" a number of years ago by my sainted Home Vacation Team member, Janet, and let me tell you it's another slur on one's dignity! Winkys are those little white areas of your body that don't tan because layers of skin fold over it and the sun don't shine there.... Of course it's really not a horrible thing, but when you stand in the bathroom after you've allowed the sun to kiss your body all day, and you've got this little white streak going across your fat belly, you just feel, well, like you haven't tanned properly.... Time to put on a shirt.
Last week we tried to make our winkys blend into various parts of our body. This was the 3rd time we made it to the beach this summer; a new record for us. I think we were successful, but I'm not going to post any pictures for you to judge.
In any event the weather turned ugly in the afternoon, but we knew this would be the case and had left for Sandy Hook earlier in the day than usual. We got five hours of sunning in and the Winkys were defeated! We were back in Lambertville in time for happy hour at Triumph and drank Amarillo IPA's for just $3.00.
Saturday our dear friends Jill and Carl invited us to their house for an afternoon of lunch by the pool. We didn't even have to ask!!!!! Mooching at it's best. Of course we helped a bit with some weeding, ignoring their feeble protests. Sometimes you just have to give a little to get back a lot.
Your Home Vacation Team pulled out some weeds for ten minutes or so and then relaxed the rest of the afternoon. We were happy to give a little back to our dear friends and they were so very appreciative. Later on, when Carl and Jill left for their second home in Delaware, we lingered for awhile at the pool. We then raided their refrigerator.
After showering we headed over to the Victory Brewing Company's pub in Downingtown. http://www.victorybeer.com/ Over a number of tasty and strong hand pumped brews and while watching the Yankees defeat the hated Boston Red Sox for the third straight game we ate wings and had a spirited discussion over which is the best brew pub. Brew snobs that we were it did not take that long. There have been so many brew pubs to consider over the years. This was a good thing for we were able to linger over our beer. We first had Victory's signature brew, Hop Devil, off their hand pump. It was perfect. Served at room temperature, it was smooth and tasty and with a high alcohol content of 6.7% it was dangerous on an empty stomach. We had wings. We had a pretzel with some liquidfied cheese and mustard for dipping. I then had a very strong and flavorable Storm King Stout, also off a hand pump. It too was served at room temperature and was bold and complex and at a 9.1% alcohol content the two beers were sufficent enough to stop me in my tracks. As a nod to personal safety Janet chose a Donnybrook Stout served colder than the others and only 3.7%.
So, talking strictly beer, we selected Victory as our favorite destination. Perhaps the great distance we need to travel to reach the brewery influenced us, but they had at least 10 different beers we were interested in, plus with three on hand pumps (or cask conditioned) it was hard to choose. The Storm King Stout often gets a 100 rating and I've had dreams about the Hop Devil on hand pump with its oh so delectable smoothness! Other places we've visited either don't have the uniqueness of Victory, like Rock Bottom in the King of Prussia mall which is a countrywide chain, or fail to have enough different beers for our liking. Triumph in New Hope (also in Philadelphia and Princeton) http://www.triumphbrew.com/ is a great place, but usually they have 5 beers total with only one that we're interested in drinking. The Ship Inn in Milford, NJ www.shipinn.com/ is enchanting and a joy to find and their ESB and the cask conditioned Best Bitter are refreshing, but there's never much beyond that we enjoy. We certainly enjoyed our trip to Dogfish Head in Rehobeth Beach last month http://www.dogfish.com/ and Janet has acquired a taste for all I.P.A.'s. They offer a good number of beers too, so perhaps if we lived in Delaware Victory would lose.
Our love of craft beers has gotten so discerning that we avoid regular gin mills. We would often frequent say, the Inn of the Hawke in Lambertville, but haven't done that in months. And, we look forward to the Chili Cook-Off at the Winter Festival so we could drink vast amounts of River Horse brew. http://www.riverhorse.com/ River Horse does not have a pub, but offers their beer to several events in the Lambertville area, like the Shad Fest, usually held the last weekend in April and the Octoberfest held, well, in October.
Sunday we bit the bullet and dodged the rain and drove up to Bethlehem, PA to attend Musikest www.musikfest.org/ It was the final day of the festival that had started on July 31st. It is an incredible event with stages everywhere and such varied music that there is something appealing somewhere. Except for the headliners, all the music was free. Sunday Crosby, Still and Nash were set to perform, but this is all about having an inexpensive fun time. We purchased a Musikfest mug and walked around and past all the stages with odd Germanic names ending in "platz". At the Volksplatz we listened to a zydeco-type group out of Baltimore called The Crawdaddies. I caught for Janet a string of beads tossed into the crowd by the lead singer. At Liederplatz we listened to a folk group called Girls, Guns and Glory. We stuck our head Festplatz to ogle people dancing to polka music and we briefly lingered at a Hip Hop group performing at some platz or another. There was music in the streets. On Main Street there was a stage for folk music and street performers juggled flames and walked slack ropes. We quickly discovered that once you buy your huge mug, several places in town would fill it at a nominal cost. We stopped drinking Molson and sampled beers at the Bethlehem Brew Works on the corner of Broad and Main. Several times we said this event was done right. There were a lot of people, even with the sporadic rain that was torrential sometimes, but everything was calm and pleasant. Perhaps it was the mainly folksy music being offered today that had a calm effect on the crowd. Perhaps it was the beer people were able to tote around and drink that helped. Whatever it was, I think we'll be looking forward to Musikfest 2010. We ended our day at the Musikfest with a performance by an Australian group called Women In Docs. They have the typical big voice sound made popular by Missy Higgins, but with a fiddle player that quite literally enchanted the crowd with his play.
Incredibly Musikfest runs for 9 days and goes as late as 11 p.m. each night. Martin guitars is located in town, so I guess that has an impact on the event. Sadly it was the last day for Musikfest. I had never heard of it before, and yet the event has been going on since 1984. As I look at the website myself I see there's a number of shows I wished I could have attended this year. The surfer music band, Los Straitjackets, is one, Polka Family Band is another. CSN would have been nice, as well as Yes and the B52s.
It was a busy weekend of Home Vacationing. If we keep up this pace, we're going to need a real vacation.
Winkys....A lovely word. I was introduced to "winky" a number of years ago by my sainted Home Vacation Team member, Janet, and let me tell you it's another slur on one's dignity! Winkys are those little white areas of your body that don't tan because layers of skin fold over it and the sun don't shine there.... Of course it's really not a horrible thing, but when you stand in the bathroom after you've allowed the sun to kiss your body all day, and you've got this little white streak going across your fat belly, you just feel, well, like you haven't tanned properly.... Time to put on a shirt.
Last week we tried to make our winkys blend into various parts of our body. This was the 3rd time we made it to the beach this summer; a new record for us. I think we were successful, but I'm not going to post any pictures for you to judge.
In any event the weather turned ugly in the afternoon, but we knew this would be the case and had left for Sandy Hook earlier in the day than usual. We got five hours of sunning in and the Winkys were defeated! We were back in Lambertville in time for happy hour at Triumph and drank Amarillo IPA's for just $3.00.
Saturday our dear friends Jill and Carl invited us to their house for an afternoon of lunch by the pool. We didn't even have to ask!!!!! Mooching at it's best. Of course we helped a bit with some weeding, ignoring their feeble protests. Sometimes you just have to give a little to get back a lot.
Your Home Vacation Team pulled out some weeds for ten minutes or so and then relaxed the rest of the afternoon. We were happy to give a little back to our dear friends and they were so very appreciative. Later on, when Carl and Jill left for their second home in Delaware, we lingered for awhile at the pool. We then raided their refrigerator.
After showering we headed over to the Victory Brewing Company's pub in Downingtown. http://www.victorybeer.com/ Over a number of tasty and strong hand pumped brews and while watching the Yankees defeat the hated Boston Red Sox for the third straight game we ate wings and had a spirited discussion over which is the best brew pub. Brew snobs that we were it did not take that long. There have been so many brew pubs to consider over the years. This was a good thing for we were able to linger over our beer. We first had Victory's signature brew, Hop Devil, off their hand pump. It was perfect. Served at room temperature, it was smooth and tasty and with a high alcohol content of 6.7% it was dangerous on an empty stomach. We had wings. We had a pretzel with some liquidfied cheese and mustard for dipping. I then had a very strong and flavorable Storm King Stout, also off a hand pump. It too was served at room temperature and was bold and complex and at a 9.1% alcohol content the two beers were sufficent enough to stop me in my tracks. As a nod to personal safety Janet chose a Donnybrook Stout served colder than the others and only 3.7%.
So, talking strictly beer, we selected Victory as our favorite destination. Perhaps the great distance we need to travel to reach the brewery influenced us, but they had at least 10 different beers we were interested in, plus with three on hand pumps (or cask conditioned) it was hard to choose. The Storm King Stout often gets a 100 rating and I've had dreams about the Hop Devil on hand pump with its oh so delectable smoothness! Other places we've visited either don't have the uniqueness of Victory, like Rock Bottom in the King of Prussia mall which is a countrywide chain, or fail to have enough different beers for our liking. Triumph in New Hope (also in Philadelphia and Princeton) http://www.triumphbrew.com/ is a great place, but usually they have 5 beers total with only one that we're interested in drinking. The Ship Inn in Milford, NJ www.shipinn.com/ is enchanting and a joy to find and their ESB and the cask conditioned Best Bitter are refreshing, but there's never much beyond that we enjoy. We certainly enjoyed our trip to Dogfish Head in Rehobeth Beach last month http://www.dogfish.com/ and Janet has acquired a taste for all I.P.A.'s. They offer a good number of beers too, so perhaps if we lived in Delaware Victory would lose.
Our love of craft beers has gotten so discerning that we avoid regular gin mills. We would often frequent say, the Inn of the Hawke in Lambertville, but haven't done that in months. And, we look forward to the Chili Cook-Off at the Winter Festival so we could drink vast amounts of River Horse brew. http://www.riverhorse.com/ River Horse does not have a pub, but offers their beer to several events in the Lambertville area, like the Shad Fest, usually held the last weekend in April and the Octoberfest held, well, in October.
Sunday we bit the bullet and dodged the rain and drove up to Bethlehem, PA to attend Musikest www.musikfest.org/ It was the final day of the festival that had started on July 31st. It is an incredible event with stages everywhere and such varied music that there is something appealing somewhere. Except for the headliners, all the music was free. Sunday Crosby, Still and Nash were set to perform, but this is all about having an inexpensive fun time. We purchased a Musikfest mug and walked around and past all the stages with odd Germanic names ending in "platz". At the Volksplatz we listened to a zydeco-type group out of Baltimore called The Crawdaddies. I caught for Janet a string of beads tossed into the crowd by the lead singer. At Liederplatz we listened to a folk group called Girls, Guns and Glory. We stuck our head Festplatz to ogle people dancing to polka music and we briefly lingered at a Hip Hop group performing at some platz or another. There was music in the streets. On Main Street there was a stage for folk music and street performers juggled flames and walked slack ropes. We quickly discovered that once you buy your huge mug, several places in town would fill it at a nominal cost. We stopped drinking Molson and sampled beers at the Bethlehem Brew Works on the corner of Broad and Main. Several times we said this event was done right. There were a lot of people, even with the sporadic rain that was torrential sometimes, but everything was calm and pleasant. Perhaps it was the mainly folksy music being offered today that had a calm effect on the crowd. Perhaps it was the beer people were able to tote around and drink that helped. Whatever it was, I think we'll be looking forward to Musikfest 2010. We ended our day at the Musikfest with a performance by an Australian group called Women In Docs. They have the typical big voice sound made popular by Missy Higgins, but with a fiddle player that quite literally enchanted the crowd with his play.
Incredibly Musikfest runs for 9 days and goes as late as 11 p.m. each night. Martin guitars is located in town, so I guess that has an impact on the event. Sadly it was the last day for Musikfest. I had never heard of it before, and yet the event has been going on since 1984. As I look at the website myself I see there's a number of shows I wished I could have attended this year. The surfer music band, Los Straitjackets, is one, Polka Family Band is another. CSN would have been nice, as well as Yes and the B52s.
It was a busy weekend of Home Vacationing. If we keep up this pace, we're going to need a real vacation.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
you are the father...
Earlier this week your very favorite Home Vacation Team went on an excursion to Stamford, Connecticut. This free lifestyle of kicking around and traveling around the area is great, but it still costs money. I need to work. There is a job in Stamford that I applied to and we traveled overnight for the Tuesday interview. We booked a hotel through Hotwire which saved us quite a bit on the eventual stay at a Hilton, though the whole process was a bit unnerving. We didn't know we had a room at a Hilton until I gave them a credit card. Though we got the room at a great price we did not know what amenities were included in that price, such as continental breakfast, parking, wifi, etc.
Sure enough, Hilton had nothing included. Parking was an extra $10.00. Internet in the room was an extra $10.00. If we wanted a king sized bed instead of a double it was another $20.00. There was no continental breakfast included. Sure we got a room for $73.00 with the tax, but it ended up costing up nearly the same as a Super 8, more if you included the price of the breakfast. The room was comfortable enough though and there was a great work out room and a pool, things missing at a Super 8. Also, our room, 431, was situated over the business center and we were able to tap into the wireless connection! So, I guess all in all it was a positive stay, though I will be hard pressed to book through Hotwire again.
Janet loves to research places we are to visit. She is never without a lead or without a map and with this trip to Stamford she tried to satisfy our love of brew pubs. She found SBC Brewery on Summer Street in Stamford, but I guess we are beer snobs. We first split a $5.85 flight of five different beers brewed by SBC and sadly we couldn't taste any difference between them. Mediocre at best, the only thing going for SBC was the price of a pint; just $3.00. We had a plate of acceptable wings at a happy hour price of $5.00 and then moved on. We had a pub meal in one of a number of bars that line Main Street. Tiernan's had a nice selection of beers and we had a decent meal. The burger I had was pricey at $11.95, because there really wasn't anything special about it, but at least the beers were tastier than SBC. They sold pints for $3.00. Tiernan's was clean and pleasant, where SBC seemed dingy, like there was a layer of dust on everything.
Indeed, most of downtown Stamford seemed gritty, empty and edgy to me. There were a number of restaurants and cafes and perhaps we didn't explore it enough, but I was unimpressed. There seemed to be a rough element everywhere we turned. Evidently though there's a lot of work up here and so maybe I'll have to wait to tender a stronger opinion. After our meal we walked a bit, but the heat was too much, so we got into the car and drove around. South of Route 95 the town breaks up into two very diverse areas. The section where the Amtrak is located is particularly gritty and we felt unsafe even in the car, but the area called Shippan point was absolutely lovely with spectacular homes and views. We drove through this area with our mouths agape as we dreamed of a different life.
The next day the interview went well enough. It was for a job that I had held for the past 9 years, which on the surface was a bit annoying. But, it turns out the job function had changed and they wanted to open it up to others. Hopefully I'm qualified to keep my job. I should know soon..... In any event it'll be a helluva commute. All my accumulated knowledge about couch surfing and mooching will come in handy if I get this position.
Before the interview Janet and I checked out of the Hilton and went for a breakfast at Curley's Diner. It's on Main Street. It looks like a wreck. Paint is peeling and the tile is cracked, but it was clean and the food was decent...but of course how could you mess up breakfast. The coffee though was awful....
We had an offer to visit friends who live in Connecticut, but Janet needed to get home, so we took a raincheck. Instead of taking the Tappan Zee Bridge home we drove over the George Washington Bridge. Since seeing a show on the Travel Channel about deep fried foods, Janet had been wanting to visit Rutt's Hutt in Clifton, NJ. I hadn't been there since my adolescent drinking days! I'm not sure if this is a frightening fact or a happy experience, but the place had not changed in 30+ years! There was a pervasive feel of another time in Rutt's Hut, as if old ghosts still linger absently chewing their ethereal hot dogs. Rutt's Hut first opened in 1928. There's a bar and restaurant in the front near the road, but we walked into the somewhat creepy stand up eating area, there are no chairs, and immediately I had a vision of someone passed out under one the counters drunk with his friends hovering over him tossing parts of their Rippers at him. No, no, that wasn't me...I just made that up. But I do remember the florescent lights casting an unearthly pallor on us one dark night after a visit to some gin mill in the area. Well, thankfully large windows in the eating area allowed brilliant afternoon sun to cascade in, dispelling any murky specters after an all-night drinking binge. We bravely ordered a couple of Rippers that were sloshing about in grease behind the counter, one with cheese, $1.98 with tax, .20 cents extra for the cheese. All scepticism dissipated with the first bite. Rutt's Hut calls their deep fried hot dogs Rippers because the skin tears when it's deep friend. Crispy outside, but the inside is soft and juicy. Knowing these things probably were not good for our health, we ordered another one and I drove the rest of the way back to Lambertville using my extended belly to steer the sedan.
Sure enough, Hilton had nothing included. Parking was an extra $10.00. Internet in the room was an extra $10.00. If we wanted a king sized bed instead of a double it was another $20.00. There was no continental breakfast included. Sure we got a room for $73.00 with the tax, but it ended up costing up nearly the same as a Super 8, more if you included the price of the breakfast. The room was comfortable enough though and there was a great work out room and a pool, things missing at a Super 8. Also, our room, 431, was situated over the business center and we were able to tap into the wireless connection! So, I guess all in all it was a positive stay, though I will be hard pressed to book through Hotwire again.
Janet loves to research places we are to visit. She is never without a lead or without a map and with this trip to Stamford she tried to satisfy our love of brew pubs. She found SBC Brewery on Summer Street in Stamford, but I guess we are beer snobs. We first split a $5.85 flight of five different beers brewed by SBC and sadly we couldn't taste any difference between them. Mediocre at best, the only thing going for SBC was the price of a pint; just $3.00. We had a plate of acceptable wings at a happy hour price of $5.00 and then moved on. We had a pub meal in one of a number of bars that line Main Street. Tiernan's had a nice selection of beers and we had a decent meal. The burger I had was pricey at $11.95, because there really wasn't anything special about it, but at least the beers were tastier than SBC. They sold pints for $3.00. Tiernan's was clean and pleasant, where SBC seemed dingy, like there was a layer of dust on everything.
Indeed, most of downtown Stamford seemed gritty, empty and edgy to me. There were a number of restaurants and cafes and perhaps we didn't explore it enough, but I was unimpressed. There seemed to be a rough element everywhere we turned. Evidently though there's a lot of work up here and so maybe I'll have to wait to tender a stronger opinion. After our meal we walked a bit, but the heat was too much, so we got into the car and drove around. South of Route 95 the town breaks up into two very diverse areas. The section where the Amtrak is located is particularly gritty and we felt unsafe even in the car, but the area called Shippan point was absolutely lovely with spectacular homes and views. We drove through this area with our mouths agape as we dreamed of a different life.
The next day the interview went well enough. It was for a job that I had held for the past 9 years, which on the surface was a bit annoying. But, it turns out the job function had changed and they wanted to open it up to others. Hopefully I'm qualified to keep my job. I should know soon..... In any event it'll be a helluva commute. All my accumulated knowledge about couch surfing and mooching will come in handy if I get this position.
Before the interview Janet and I checked out of the Hilton and went for a breakfast at Curley's Diner. It's on Main Street. It looks like a wreck. Paint is peeling and the tile is cracked, but it was clean and the food was decent...but of course how could you mess up breakfast. The coffee though was awful....
We had an offer to visit friends who live in Connecticut, but Janet needed to get home, so we took a raincheck. Instead of taking the Tappan Zee Bridge home we drove over the George Washington Bridge. Since seeing a show on the Travel Channel about deep fried foods, Janet had been wanting to visit Rutt's Hutt in Clifton, NJ. I hadn't been there since my adolescent drinking days! I'm not sure if this is a frightening fact or a happy experience, but the place had not changed in 30+ years! There was a pervasive feel of another time in Rutt's Hut, as if old ghosts still linger absently chewing their ethereal hot dogs. Rutt's Hut first opened in 1928. There's a bar and restaurant in the front near the road, but we walked into the somewhat creepy stand up eating area, there are no chairs, and immediately I had a vision of someone passed out under one the counters drunk with his friends hovering over him tossing parts of their Rippers at him. No, no, that wasn't me...I just made that up. But I do remember the florescent lights casting an unearthly pallor on us one dark night after a visit to some gin mill in the area. Well, thankfully large windows in the eating area allowed brilliant afternoon sun to cascade in, dispelling any murky specters after an all-night drinking binge. We bravely ordered a couple of Rippers that were sloshing about in grease behind the counter, one with cheese, $1.98 with tax, .20 cents extra for the cheese. All scepticism dissipated with the first bite. Rutt's Hut calls their deep fried hot dogs Rippers because the skin tears when it's deep friend. Crispy outside, but the inside is soft and juicy. Knowing these things probably were not good for our health, we ordered another one and I drove the rest of the way back to Lambertville using my extended belly to steer the sedan.
Monday, August 3, 2009
so-cheet
Now, this may seem strange coming from a New York football Giants fan, but I like Philadelphia. If only there weren't so many Eagles fans there, the place would be perfect. Okay, okay, before all youse guys who boo Santa want to take me out back and beat the heck out of me, I apologize. At least the Sillies won last year's World Series, so one would think that the Philadelphia sporting mood would be a bit more sedate, but this is a football town. So, good luck in the impending season (just not a lot of it).
Truthfully though, I do like Philadelphia. Since my divorce 5 years ago I have been exploring this city more and more, and with Janet as the tour guide these past 3 1/2 years, she has shown me a lot of this historic city. There are many nuggets to explore (like Chestnut Hill) and several entertaining events like the Dragon Boat races we attended back in June. Over the years Janet has dragged me all through the city; we've strolled through Elfreth's Alley, gone to several operas, eaten Italian in the 9th Street Italian market, devoured Jimmy's cheese steaks on South Street, strolled through Fairmount Park and the city's Museum of Art. We've had beers in so many places around the city I've lost count. Yes, Philadelphia is worth exploring and it's an easy destination for the Home Vacation Team.
On my birthday Janet took me to a restaurant in Head House Square in a section of town called Society Hill. It is a very affluent with a high concentration of 18 and 19th century original homes. The streets are rough cobblestoned and Janet walked me through some absolutely beautiful alleys and hidden gardens to marvel at the trim neat homes. She remarked that as a child from Upper Darby she dreamed of living in this section of town.
Anyway, Head House Square used to be called New Market Square, in order to distinguish it from a similar market on High Street, which is now called Market Street.... There's a test in the morning... The head house was originally used as a firehouse. It was started in 1804. The structure behind the firehouse is called the Shambles, which is an archaic word for butcher, it is evidently the oldest farmer's market in the United States. The original structure was erected in 1745. When we walked through the Shambles Saturday night there was a crafts show.
Janet took me to a restaurant right there on Second Street, just across from the Shambles. Xochitl (so-cheet) is a very good, high end Mexican restaurant. Janet doesn't like the normal Tex-Mex food that passes for Mexican and after this meal I doubt that I will ever get her to taste another Poblanos Rellenos. The food was exceptional and because we each ordered a "tasting menu" at a reasonable price of $45 the cobblestoned streets were especially treacherous because we were so stuffed. There were five courses involved in the tasting menu. The first was guacamole made fresh at our table. The guacamole guy came up to our table with his little platter of avocados and other ingredients and mixed everything in a molcajete, which is a bowl made from lava rock.
For our antojitos Janet had a lamb carpaccio and I had Gorditas de Huitlacoche, which are little mushrooms that grow in place of kernels on a cob. For our ceviche or Mexican sushi Janet had Vuelve a la Vida “Return to Life”, a menage of sea critters garnished with cilantro, jalapeno and avocado and I had "Yucataco" de Atún, tuna flavored with apple, lemongrass and aji amarillo pepper.
Every bite of this delicious meal stopped us and we'd flop back onto our chairs to savor each morsel. We giggled like school children and rolled our eyes at the good fortune with having found this place. For the main course Janet had a strong tasting Cabrito con Salsa Mulato y Habas, baby goat with salsa mulato and a Fava Bean salad and I had a bacon and lime encrusted chunk of halibut with a watermelon salsa that forced my taste buds to bounce in several directions at the same time. This was definitely not your typical Mexican restaurant, especially when the head chef himself came around the neatly decorated, diminutive restaurant to thank people for coming to eat his food. He asked us what we had ordered and nodded his head approvingly.
The fifth course was dessert. Janet had a semi sweet chocolate souffle and I had caramelized bananas with walnut ice cream. When we rolled out of Xochitl we were lighter in our pocketbook, but quite stuffed. Perhaps this was the best meal I had ever had for my birthday. It is a somewhat transient tradition that I like to eat a Mexican meal on my birthday. I doubt too that I would ever be able to eat another Poblanos Rellenos after this.
Afterwards we attempted to stroll along South Street, but it was brimming with people that were a bit too rebellious for us and rather than ruin the euphoric haze that clouded our senses we ducked quickly back into the extremely quiet confines of Society Hill. We marveled at the trim homes as we made our way back to the car for the relatively short ride home.
Wow... what a birthday....
Truthfully though, I do like Philadelphia. Since my divorce 5 years ago I have been exploring this city more and more, and with Janet as the tour guide these past 3 1/2 years, she has shown me a lot of this historic city. There are many nuggets to explore (like Chestnut Hill) and several entertaining events like the Dragon Boat races we attended back in June. Over the years Janet has dragged me all through the city; we've strolled through Elfreth's Alley, gone to several operas, eaten Italian in the 9th Street Italian market, devoured Jimmy's cheese steaks on South Street, strolled through Fairmount Park and the city's Museum of Art. We've had beers in so many places around the city I've lost count. Yes, Philadelphia is worth exploring and it's an easy destination for the Home Vacation Team.
On my birthday Janet took me to a restaurant in Head House Square in a section of town called Society Hill. It is a very affluent with a high concentration of 18 and 19th century original homes. The streets are rough cobblestoned and Janet walked me through some absolutely beautiful alleys and hidden gardens to marvel at the trim neat homes. She remarked that as a child from Upper Darby she dreamed of living in this section of town.
Anyway, Head House Square used to be called New Market Square, in order to distinguish it from a similar market on High Street, which is now called Market Street.... There's a test in the morning... The head house was originally used as a firehouse. It was started in 1804. The structure behind the firehouse is called the Shambles, which is an archaic word for butcher, it is evidently the oldest farmer's market in the United States. The original structure was erected in 1745. When we walked through the Shambles Saturday night there was a crafts show.
Janet took me to a restaurant right there on Second Street, just across from the Shambles. Xochitl (so-cheet) is a very good, high end Mexican restaurant. Janet doesn't like the normal Tex-Mex food that passes for Mexican and after this meal I doubt that I will ever get her to taste another Poblanos Rellenos. The food was exceptional and because we each ordered a "tasting menu" at a reasonable price of $45 the cobblestoned streets were especially treacherous because we were so stuffed. There were five courses involved in the tasting menu. The first was guacamole made fresh at our table. The guacamole guy came up to our table with his little platter of avocados and other ingredients and mixed everything in a molcajete, which is a bowl made from lava rock.
For our antojitos Janet had a lamb carpaccio and I had Gorditas de Huitlacoche, which are little mushrooms that grow in place of kernels on a cob. For our ceviche or Mexican sushi Janet had Vuelve a la Vida “Return to Life”, a menage of sea critters garnished with cilantro, jalapeno and avocado and I had "Yucataco" de Atún, tuna flavored with apple, lemongrass and aji amarillo pepper.
Every bite of this delicious meal stopped us and we'd flop back onto our chairs to savor each morsel. We giggled like school children and rolled our eyes at the good fortune with having found this place. For the main course Janet had a strong tasting Cabrito con Salsa Mulato y Habas, baby goat with salsa mulato and a Fava Bean salad and I had a bacon and lime encrusted chunk of halibut with a watermelon salsa that forced my taste buds to bounce in several directions at the same time. This was definitely not your typical Mexican restaurant, especially when the head chef himself came around the neatly decorated, diminutive restaurant to thank people for coming to eat his food. He asked us what we had ordered and nodded his head approvingly.
The fifth course was dessert. Janet had a semi sweet chocolate souffle and I had caramelized bananas with walnut ice cream. When we rolled out of Xochitl we were lighter in our pocketbook, but quite stuffed. Perhaps this was the best meal I had ever had for my birthday. It is a somewhat transient tradition that I like to eat a Mexican meal on my birthday. I doubt too that I would ever be able to eat another Poblanos Rellenos after this.
Afterwards we attempted to stroll along South Street, but it was brimming with people that were a bit too rebellious for us and rather than ruin the euphoric haze that clouded our senses we ducked quickly back into the extremely quiet confines of Society Hill. We marveled at the trim homes as we made our way back to the car for the relatively short ride home.
Wow... what a birthday....
Saturday, August 1, 2009
39 and holding
Today is my birthday! Officially my age, waist and I.Q. are now the same number; a confluence of astrological unity that has an ebb and flow of time and space and many beers and an occasional cigar in my future....
The celebration began yesterday. The Home Vacation Team's intent was to travel to the shore again, but when the weather report reads 100% chance of rain, there's no reason to make an attempt. Instead, we saw a matinee of Michael Mann's new film, Public Enemies; a beautiful movie, if predictable story. We exited the theater into a soft summer rain that became steadily fiercer as we drove along the flooded streets. I avoided the highway for we had some time to kill. We were going to the Hopewell Valley Winery's Friday happy hour which began at 5 p.m. The winery is along Yard Road just outside of Pennington. We had been there before to purchase a bottle and had enjoyed their award winning Chambourcin at the NJWGA event we had attended last spring. We had signed up for email announcements and finally we decided to go to their Friday happy hour.
There was a jazz quartet playing in a cavernous back room of the wine store. Individual pizzas were available for $6.00 and wine was for sale either by the bottle or glass. We arrived just before the event offically began at 5, but there were a few people already seated and drinking. Evidently the "hours" were very loose. We settled in at a table with a bottle of Chamourcin, $15.95, ordered a pie and watched the place steadily fill up. Other people arrived with their own food and some splayed out on their table an array of snacks. It was very nice and a light jovial athmosphere was pervasive. We could have stayed through the evening, even after we had drained our bottle, but our moveable feast had us heading over to the Triumph Brewery again to play trivia!
After a quick sandwich at the house and a change of clothes; it had gotten noticeably cooler after the rain had stopped; we drove down into town and walked across the bridge into New Hope. We ordered beers, $5.00. Janet and I first had an Irish Red, which had a subtle smoky flavor and signed in as BIM to play trivia. We were neck and neck with a bunch of kids across the bar from us signed in as ROY. They smoked us with all the rap questions, but eventually we won the overall game! After a couple of more beers we weaved back across the bridge to NJ pausing to marvel at the beautiful endless Delaware and the rolling hills shilouetted by a half moon and life just seemed to be in the right place.
For a vacation from home you could do a lot worse....
Today for my birthday we are heading into Philadelphia for a Mexican dinner.
How old am I you may ask? 39 and holding........................................................
The celebration began yesterday. The Home Vacation Team's intent was to travel to the shore again, but when the weather report reads 100% chance of rain, there's no reason to make an attempt. Instead, we saw a matinee of Michael Mann's new film, Public Enemies; a beautiful movie, if predictable story. We exited the theater into a soft summer rain that became steadily fiercer as we drove along the flooded streets. I avoided the highway for we had some time to kill. We were going to the Hopewell Valley Winery's Friday happy hour which began at 5 p.m. The winery is along Yard Road just outside of Pennington. We had been there before to purchase a bottle and had enjoyed their award winning Chambourcin at the NJWGA event we had attended last spring. We had signed up for email announcements and finally we decided to go to their Friday happy hour.
There was a jazz quartet playing in a cavernous back room of the wine store. Individual pizzas were available for $6.00 and wine was for sale either by the bottle or glass. We arrived just before the event offically began at 5, but there were a few people already seated and drinking. Evidently the "hours" were very loose. We settled in at a table with a bottle of Chamourcin, $15.95, ordered a pie and watched the place steadily fill up. Other people arrived with their own food and some splayed out on their table an array of snacks. It was very nice and a light jovial athmosphere was pervasive. We could have stayed through the evening, even after we had drained our bottle, but our moveable feast had us heading over to the Triumph Brewery again to play trivia!
After a quick sandwich at the house and a change of clothes; it had gotten noticeably cooler after the rain had stopped; we drove down into town and walked across the bridge into New Hope. We ordered beers, $5.00. Janet and I first had an Irish Red, which had a subtle smoky flavor and signed in as BIM to play trivia. We were neck and neck with a bunch of kids across the bar from us signed in as ROY. They smoked us with all the rap questions, but eventually we won the overall game! After a couple of more beers we weaved back across the bridge to NJ pausing to marvel at the beautiful endless Delaware and the rolling hills shilouetted by a half moon and life just seemed to be in the right place.
For a vacation from home you could do a lot worse....
Today for my birthday we are heading into Philadelphia for a Mexican dinner.
How old am I you may ask? 39 and holding........................................................
Thursday, July 30, 2009
it's a hellava town
Perhaps you've seen the movie, On The Town? Like latter day sailors on a similar 24 hour leave in New York the Vacation From Home team was back in full force yesterday! Trailing behind me and Janet were three hillbillys from Downingtown for a whirlwind excursion into NYC. Meant to be a high school graduation gift for one of the girls, the trip took on a manic life of it's own as we hurtled through Manhattan with several stops in mind. I work, that is WHEN I work, in NYC, and for me the touristy route is different and I actually had some fun. Because of my familiarity with the city I was the tour guide, although I mainly facilitated their wishes. First it was trip to Canal Street so they could shop as they dodged all the Chinese people hawking us for "Rooie Viton". Then it was a brief stroll through SOHO, though the ladies were more interested in shopping than about the history of the area. We boarded the subway again; we each had a day pass; and got off on Wall Street. After using the statue of the Wall Street Bull as a lucky charm for my lottery ticket, we walked down to Battery Park City and again slalomed our way through the hordes of tourists to take in a view of Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. It was the subway again, up to Union Square and a needed visit to the Whole Foods Market on 14th Street for some snacks. The pace was eased somewhat here. We strolled finally through the Farmer's Market and settled into some out door seats at Heartland Brewery for very necessary beers. It was extremely hot and humid this day and sometimes it rained very heavily. We then took the subway up to Rockefeller Plaza where I used to work. I was a freelancer with NBC for 13 years. We marveled at the beauty of the cavernous halls of 30 Rock and then ran across the street in the pouring rain to visit St. Patrick's cathedral. We then walked through the rain to the MOMA. We spent a number of hours there until closing walking through the galleries. Of course, I lingered over The Starry Night by van Gogh. The rain had stopped enough for us to stroll up a typically crowded Fifth Avenue and the Plaza Hotel where I showed the unimpressed hillbilly trio the painting of Eloise. After a quick stroll through Central Park we headed for Seventh Avenue and into Times Square. By this time the trio was dragging and each hobbling step was announced by laborious cries. Don't worry, your favorite Home Vacation Team knows how to endure such trips!
We finally sat down for dinner at Virgil's Barbecue for some very good food before rushing through Times Square and the subway back for an 8:35 back to Princeton!
I slept well last night....
Sadly, the bull did not help.... Again, I missed hitting the lottery by five numbers.
We finally sat down for dinner at Virgil's Barbecue for some very good food before rushing through Times Square and the subway back for an 8:35 back to Princeton!
I slept well last night....
Sadly, the bull did not help.... Again, I missed hitting the lottery by five numbers.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
there's no place like your hometown....
How is this for a home vacation! I’m in my hometown of Harrison, NJ waiting for my son’s concert to begin. He is in a metal band and I’m here for support and not for the listening part of it. He’s a “screamer.” One of two in his band, “The Worst Is Yet To Come.”I guess you can figure out what a screamer is, but he and his co-screamer have wonderful voices and were both in the High School choir.
Now, I’m not into metal at all. One of my first albums was a Black Sabbath album; the one with the witch on the cover. I listened to it maybe twice. But, I have to support my son in all his endeavors. He’s a good kid and deserves some backing.
Well, I will be 53 next Saturday and for 26 years I had lived in this small city that is just across the river from Newark. My son’s show is at the American Legion Hall on Paterson Street, directly across the street from my Washington Street address. I had to come not only to support my son, but also for the opportunity to revisit my roots. Standing in the small faculty parking lot used by the looming middle school that was next to the American Legion Hall I was able to point out several sights to me son and his band members. No need to go into them here in this blog; the boys, and one girl, lost interest in my excitement about my hometown fairly quickly so I won't belabor you with many obscure details.
I bid my son and his bandmates good luck; they weren't due up until 7 p.m.; and I went on a walkabout of my little burg. Harrison is just a mile square and despite the years many places were still very familiar. Many things have predictably changed. There are many more Latinos living here now, although there was a growing influx of Portuguese in town when I moved out for good in 1989. Harrison is directly across the river from the Ironbound section of Newark and if you’re ever interested in that sort of food you have many choices. Harrison also had its share of Portuguese and Spanish restaurants and I would frequent them when I lived here.
I wasn’t that surprised that Polsky’s a little convenience store around the corner from my Washington Street address was being run by an Indian. I even remarked to “Mr. Polsky” that he had changed over the years as he punched out a lottery ticket for me…. Hey you never know….
Vi’s Florist was still thankfully there. It was there when I was a toddler and I went to grammar school with the Chiccino boys. Michael was in the shop. Sadly he changed a lot. A year younger than me, Michael was easily twice my weight and girth. But, he remembered me, even before I identified myself. We talked a long while and caught up on family matters and passings. He talked glowingly of my father who was an integral part of our Boy Scout troop. He told me that with the economy his flower shop was doing poorly. I wished him well and then moved on. I walked down to Manor Avenue and photographed Max's Diner which originally opened in 1927. I smiled again at the painted sign near the front door that read "ladies invited." The place though has been closed for a few years.
I then walked over to Pechter's to buy some rye bread. I grew up eating their bread, especially the loaves with blackened sesame seeds. I love eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on toasted rye bread from Pechter's. I used to sit down with a glass of milk and eat slices of the bread, devouring the middle first and then relishing the crust. In my youth Harrison would either smell horribly of the meadowlands...which edge the eastern edge of the town... or of the warm soothing smell of baking rye bread. Well, when I walked up the store they had just closed! The men where in the shop and waving their hands at me....but I begged and they relented. Harrison is like that. People are nice here. Lambertville, my home now for the past 20 years is similar and there are many kind, pleasant people there as well.
I immediately opened a bag and grabbed a slice. I then walked down the street to the Manor Bar and had a pint of Yuengling for $2.00. This bar was my dad's favorite gin mill and as I sat on one end of the bar by myself I furtively caught glances at the four men at the corner and wondered if they knew my father, Tony. I was sure that someone knew him, but I didn't want to stray too far into the evening and miss my son's concert. So, I left a tip and slipped out.
No sooner do I get back to my car, which was parked on Washington Street then my son called to tell me they've been kicked out of the show! They evidently got into a fight in the American Legion Hall. Someone watching another band was too rowdy and was throwing himself around and at one point hit my son and another bandmate. Well...this being Harrison, which is a little rougher than Lambertville, and my son and his friend who are more like "weekend Punk Rockers" got into a fracas in defending themselves and we went home early.
I tried to salve the wounds of the band by offering to buy them something to eat at one of the many diners in the area, but they opted to return to the leafy confines of Lambertville and flee the urban wackiness that begat me.
After they left, I drove around town a bit and happy I too was no longer a citizen of the town, turned my car for my home.
Harrison has many fond memories for me, but I also delighted in destroying it in my first novel, "Hi, How Are You?" In the novel the government levels the town and erects a huge shopping mall, large enough to be seen from outer space. I guess I have a love/hate relationship with the town?
Anyway if you're interested in reading the first chapter of the book go to: www.xlibris.com/hihowareyou.html
Okay.
greg
Now, I’m not into metal at all. One of my first albums was a Black Sabbath album; the one with the witch on the cover. I listened to it maybe twice. But, I have to support my son in all his endeavors. He’s a good kid and deserves some backing.
Well, I will be 53 next Saturday and for 26 years I had lived in this small city that is just across the river from Newark. My son’s show is at the American Legion Hall on Paterson Street, directly across the street from my Washington Street address. I had to come not only to support my son, but also for the opportunity to revisit my roots. Standing in the small faculty parking lot used by the looming middle school that was next to the American Legion Hall I was able to point out several sights to me son and his band members. No need to go into them here in this blog; the boys, and one girl, lost interest in my excitement about my hometown fairly quickly so I won't belabor you with many obscure details.
I bid my son and his bandmates good luck; they weren't due up until 7 p.m.; and I went on a walkabout of my little burg. Harrison is just a mile square and despite the years many places were still very familiar. Many things have predictably changed. There are many more Latinos living here now, although there was a growing influx of Portuguese in town when I moved out for good in 1989. Harrison is directly across the river from the Ironbound section of Newark and if you’re ever interested in that sort of food you have many choices. Harrison also had its share of Portuguese and Spanish restaurants and I would frequent them when I lived here.
I wasn’t that surprised that Polsky’s a little convenience store around the corner from my Washington Street address was being run by an Indian. I even remarked to “Mr. Polsky” that he had changed over the years as he punched out a lottery ticket for me…. Hey you never know….
Vi’s Florist was still thankfully there. It was there when I was a toddler and I went to grammar school with the Chiccino boys. Michael was in the shop. Sadly he changed a lot. A year younger than me, Michael was easily twice my weight and girth. But, he remembered me, even before I identified myself. We talked a long while and caught up on family matters and passings. He talked glowingly of my father who was an integral part of our Boy Scout troop. He told me that with the economy his flower shop was doing poorly. I wished him well and then moved on. I walked down to Manor Avenue and photographed Max's Diner which originally opened in 1927. I smiled again at the painted sign near the front door that read "ladies invited." The place though has been closed for a few years.
I then walked over to Pechter's to buy some rye bread. I grew up eating their bread, especially the loaves with blackened sesame seeds. I love eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on toasted rye bread from Pechter's. I used to sit down with a glass of milk and eat slices of the bread, devouring the middle first and then relishing the crust. In my youth Harrison would either smell horribly of the meadowlands...which edge the eastern edge of the town... or of the warm soothing smell of baking rye bread. Well, when I walked up the store they had just closed! The men where in the shop and waving their hands at me....but I begged and they relented. Harrison is like that. People are nice here. Lambertville, my home now for the past 20 years is similar and there are many kind, pleasant people there as well.
I immediately opened a bag and grabbed a slice. I then walked down the street to the Manor Bar and had a pint of Yuengling for $2.00. This bar was my dad's favorite gin mill and as I sat on one end of the bar by myself I furtively caught glances at the four men at the corner and wondered if they knew my father, Tony. I was sure that someone knew him, but I didn't want to stray too far into the evening and miss my son's concert. So, I left a tip and slipped out.
No sooner do I get back to my car, which was parked on Washington Street then my son called to tell me they've been kicked out of the show! They evidently got into a fight in the American Legion Hall. Someone watching another band was too rowdy and was throwing himself around and at one point hit my son and another bandmate. Well...this being Harrison, which is a little rougher than Lambertville, and my son and his friend who are more like "weekend Punk Rockers" got into a fracas in defending themselves and we went home early.
I tried to salve the wounds of the band by offering to buy them something to eat at one of the many diners in the area, but they opted to return to the leafy confines of Lambertville and flee the urban wackiness that begat me.
After they left, I drove around town a bit and happy I too was no longer a citizen of the town, turned my car for my home.
Harrison has many fond memories for me, but I also delighted in destroying it in my first novel, "Hi, How Are You?" In the novel the government levels the town and erects a huge shopping mall, large enough to be seen from outer space. I guess I have a love/hate relationship with the town?
Anyway if you're interested in reading the first chapter of the book go to: www.xlibris.com/hihowareyou.html
Okay.
greg
Saturday, July 25, 2009
...where everybody knows your name...
Okay...I'll try to keep this light....
What does a severed Home Vacation Team do on a Friday night? One goes out to dinner with friends and the other has a sullen beer at a brew pub. For the latter member, the beers are good, but they offer no solace for the loneliness.
July 24th is a particularly rough day for me. It is my father's birthday. He's been dead since 1997. It is also the anniversary of my mother's death in 2001. And, it is the day I last made love to my wife. It was like a going away present. We divorced soon thereafter.
That being revealed, the beers tasted particularly good. I only had two..don't worry. I can't drink a lot. But the sting of the day had not dissipated with the brews. I had parked in New Jersey and walked across the bridge into New Hope, PA and the night was cool, the sky was clear, the river dark and mysterious. Walking across that bridge I felt so lonely and the sadness consumed me. I haven't regretted my life for a long while, but tonight it was pathetically on the surface. I smoked a cigar while I walked; usually a soothing event, but the cigar like the night tasted bitter and acidic. I got back into my car, but did not go directly home. I played music loudly as I slowly drove north on route 29 to Bull's Island. I sat in the dark parking lot there for a few minutes feeling sorry for myself before returning home.
What does a severed Home Vacation Team do on a Friday night? One goes out to dinner with friends and the other has a sullen beer at a brew pub. For the latter member, the beers are good, but they offer no solace for the loneliness.
July 24th is a particularly rough day for me. It is my father's birthday. He's been dead since 1997. It is also the anniversary of my mother's death in 2001. And, it is the day I last made love to my wife. It was like a going away present. We divorced soon thereafter.
That being revealed, the beers tasted particularly good. I only had two..don't worry. I can't drink a lot. But the sting of the day had not dissipated with the brews. I had parked in New Jersey and walked across the bridge into New Hope, PA and the night was cool, the sky was clear, the river dark and mysterious. Walking across that bridge I felt so lonely and the sadness consumed me. I haven't regretted my life for a long while, but tonight it was pathetically on the surface. I smoked a cigar while I walked; usually a soothing event, but the cigar like the night tasted bitter and acidic. I got back into my car, but did not go directly home. I played music loudly as I slowly drove north on route 29 to Bull's Island. I sat in the dark parking lot there for a few minutes feeling sorry for myself before returning home.
Friday, July 24, 2009
NJ and You...Getting somewhere!
You know… I have to say this about New Jersey…. It may be a small, congested state, densely populated with high property taxes and brimming with people who aren’t sophisticated like Philadelphians or New Yorkers, but at least when you hit the road you get somewhere. Just driving on secondary roads one can crisscross the state within a few hours. Get on a major highway like the Turnpike and NJ becomes a corridor state, a blur. There’s a lot to see here in the Garden State and you would be wise to take your time and explore it. Farmlands, mountains, the ocean , rivers and lakes, rural and urban scenes make it a diversified state. But of course there’s a lot to see everywhere. It would be foolish to think that NJ is the only place to visit, but at least in my home state I can visit it without it being a dreadfully long, arduous trek.
The other day my son and I drove up to Ricketts Glen. Readers of this blog should remember that Janet and I had camped up there just two weeks ago. Well, she’s away this week and so I figured I should do some bonding with my son, not that it’s a necessary thing, like I’m trying to make up for lost time with my growing boy, who’ll turn 20 in November and who has been as tall as me for awhile now. No, my boy and I do a lot of things together and a return trip to Ricketts Glen was a natural thing for us to do for this particular father and son team.
We used to go “exploring” when he was younger. With a set of binoculars we’d get in the car and go for drives. Sometimes the drive would last a half hour or so and we would “explore” what was in the immediately vicinity of our little town. Our whims would lead us to turn here or there, before it was time to go home for dinner. Sometimes our trips would go for hours; we’d meander along roads farther afield, but then we’d “get somewhere,” some destination. We’d spend half a day or an entire day out in the nether regions of the Garden State, but come back without a lot of hard miles on the car. Relative to our trip to Ricketts Glen the other day, the length and breadth of our exploring excursions were a walk in the park.
There’s nothing remotely similar to Ricketts Glen in New Jersey. There are beautiful vistas, there are waterfalls, there are trails, there are lakes, but the Falls Trail at Ricketts Glen is unique and a must destination for all of you out there in blog land, wherever that may be. GO!
Ricketts Glen is roughly 130 miles from the house, at least according to “Greg’s Way.” If you’ve ever read any of my previous blogs you’re familiar with my method of traveling. Avoiding major highways as often as possible, I like to travel secondary routes. Usually such routes meander and tack on miles and take a long time; that is if you're in a hurry. The route I had mapped out from Lambertville to Ricketts Glen (a day trip destination for some people by the way) had me going along some small roads and through some very small towns. Google had me on the Northeast Extention. Truthfully, I would much prefer to drive through Shickshinny than to hurtle along the Northeast Extension even if it was quicker.
I've been doing this sort of travel for along time, through many states, including Hawaii as well as a couple of European countries. I've even read books about such a meandering way of traveling. William Least Heat Moon wrote a travelogue called "Blue Highways". He drove around the continental U.S. in an old van and avoided highways and major cities. The secondary routes he took were often inked in blue on old maps and he visited small towns. Just the thing I like to do. My son also enjoys this sort of traveling. He has already expressed an interest in traveling around the country...hopefully he won't get on route 80. I've even whipped Janet into shape about this method of seeing the world. Last year we saw a lot of very rural southern Louisiana and barely got on a major highway.
So, given my interest in taking "Blue Highways," why am I complaining in this particular blog entry about the great distance needed to travel to Ricketts Glen? You may write to me and say, “Greg, you are meandering too much here, like one of your trips!” You may think I’m a whiner and you’re only interested in reading about some new place, that Ricketts Glen is so, so two weeks ago and that the Vacation From Home Team is much more interesting when Janet is involved! A solo Greg is pathetic you may be muttering to yourself right now.
(You’re right.) But, that being admitted, I only wanted to point out that despite the vast beauty of Pennsylvania, from Doylestown to Quakertown to Allentown to Tamaqua to Hazelton to Shickshinny to Red Rock to Ricketts Glen, it is a long F***** way. And truthfully town after town after town after town after town, it all is Pennsyltucky (or if you prefer Pennsylbama). After the, uhm, let’s see 30th burg you start hoping you’ll see a Northeast Extension sign. The “Bear Crossing” signs are only humorous once and I’m sorry to be disrespectful here but I don’t need to drive nearly 100 miles from home to see Hazelton. Camden is a relative hop down route 130 and even quicker on 295. I can cross NJ on a bad travel day in less than two hours on small roads and pass through some gorgeous communities and at least be at the beach. Two hours into my trip the other day I’m impatiently tapping my foot at a traffic light in Tamaqua wondering if I should find a gin mill and throw back a few. It is interesting to see coal mining towns; my mom’s family still has deep roots in the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton area (just 27 miles from Ricketts Glen); but after awhile they all look alike. If I did not reset my odometer for the return trip the other day I would have thought I was in Mocanaqua and not just outside of Doylestown. One hundred miles in the trip I could have been anywhere, and nowhere, in the great commonwealth of Pennsylvania.
Anyway, not to give the actual day of hiking short shrift, but as expected my boy liked it a lot. He said he may return some day to camp as well. His favorite falls were the Sheldon Reynolds waterfall at 36 feet. After hiking we had a dinner at the Penny Lounge at the Jamison City Hotel. I know, I know, I am supposed to write here that the highlight of my day was seeing my boy clamoring onto a log to get a different view of the Harrison Wright falls… see the new video posted with this entry, but it was WINGS and TACOS night at the Jamison City Hotel! They were good wings. Hot, but not goopy and the tacos were brimming with meat. Again, it was very cheap for me. $11.45 bought us a dozen wings, a taco each and two beers for me, although my 19 year old probably would have been served easily enough. I just wish they didn’t have to place Ricketts Glen so far away!
Love to all.
greg
The other day my son and I drove up to Ricketts Glen. Readers of this blog should remember that Janet and I had camped up there just two weeks ago. Well, she’s away this week and so I figured I should do some bonding with my son, not that it’s a necessary thing, like I’m trying to make up for lost time with my growing boy, who’ll turn 20 in November and who has been as tall as me for awhile now. No, my boy and I do a lot of things together and a return trip to Ricketts Glen was a natural thing for us to do for this particular father and son team.
We used to go “exploring” when he was younger. With a set of binoculars we’d get in the car and go for drives. Sometimes the drive would last a half hour or so and we would “explore” what was in the immediately vicinity of our little town. Our whims would lead us to turn here or there, before it was time to go home for dinner. Sometimes our trips would go for hours; we’d meander along roads farther afield, but then we’d “get somewhere,” some destination. We’d spend half a day or an entire day out in the nether regions of the Garden State, but come back without a lot of hard miles on the car. Relative to our trip to Ricketts Glen the other day, the length and breadth of our exploring excursions were a walk in the park.
There’s nothing remotely similar to Ricketts Glen in New Jersey. There are beautiful vistas, there are waterfalls, there are trails, there are lakes, but the Falls Trail at Ricketts Glen is unique and a must destination for all of you out there in blog land, wherever that may be. GO!
Ricketts Glen is roughly 130 miles from the house, at least according to “Greg’s Way.” If you’ve ever read any of my previous blogs you’re familiar with my method of traveling. Avoiding major highways as often as possible, I like to travel secondary routes. Usually such routes meander and tack on miles and take a long time; that is if you're in a hurry. The route I had mapped out from Lambertville to Ricketts Glen (a day trip destination for some people by the way) had me going along some small roads and through some very small towns. Google had me on the Northeast Extention. Truthfully, I would much prefer to drive through Shickshinny than to hurtle along the Northeast Extension even if it was quicker.
I've been doing this sort of travel for along time, through many states, including Hawaii as well as a couple of European countries. I've even read books about such a meandering way of traveling. William Least Heat Moon wrote a travelogue called "Blue Highways". He drove around the continental U.S. in an old van and avoided highways and major cities. The secondary routes he took were often inked in blue on old maps and he visited small towns. Just the thing I like to do. My son also enjoys this sort of traveling. He has already expressed an interest in traveling around the country...hopefully he won't get on route 80. I've even whipped Janet into shape about this method of seeing the world. Last year we saw a lot of very rural southern Louisiana and barely got on a major highway.
So, given my interest in taking "Blue Highways," why am I complaining in this particular blog entry about the great distance needed to travel to Ricketts Glen? You may write to me and say, “Greg, you are meandering too much here, like one of your trips!” You may think I’m a whiner and you’re only interested in reading about some new place, that Ricketts Glen is so, so two weeks ago and that the Vacation From Home Team is much more interesting when Janet is involved! A solo Greg is pathetic you may be muttering to yourself right now.
(You’re right.) But, that being admitted, I only wanted to point out that despite the vast beauty of Pennsylvania, from Doylestown to Quakertown to Allentown to Tamaqua to Hazelton to Shickshinny to Red Rock to Ricketts Glen, it is a long F***** way. And truthfully town after town after town after town after town, it all is Pennsyltucky (or if you prefer Pennsylbama). After the, uhm, let’s see 30th burg you start hoping you’ll see a Northeast Extension sign. The “Bear Crossing” signs are only humorous once and I’m sorry to be disrespectful here but I don’t need to drive nearly 100 miles from home to see Hazelton. Camden is a relative hop down route 130 and even quicker on 295. I can cross NJ on a bad travel day in less than two hours on small roads and pass through some gorgeous communities and at least be at the beach. Two hours into my trip the other day I’m impatiently tapping my foot at a traffic light in Tamaqua wondering if I should find a gin mill and throw back a few. It is interesting to see coal mining towns; my mom’s family still has deep roots in the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton area (just 27 miles from Ricketts Glen); but after awhile they all look alike. If I did not reset my odometer for the return trip the other day I would have thought I was in Mocanaqua and not just outside of Doylestown. One hundred miles in the trip I could have been anywhere, and nowhere, in the great commonwealth of Pennsylvania.
Anyway, not to give the actual day of hiking short shrift, but as expected my boy liked it a lot. He said he may return some day to camp as well. His favorite falls were the Sheldon Reynolds waterfall at 36 feet. After hiking we had a dinner at the Penny Lounge at the Jamison City Hotel. I know, I know, I am supposed to write here that the highlight of my day was seeing my boy clamoring onto a log to get a different view of the Harrison Wright falls… see the new video posted with this entry, but it was WINGS and TACOS night at the Jamison City Hotel! They were good wings. Hot, but not goopy and the tacos were brimming with meat. Again, it was very cheap for me. $11.45 bought us a dozen wings, a taco each and two beers for me, although my 19 year old probably would have been served easily enough. I just wish they didn’t have to place Ricketts Glen so far away!
Love to all.
greg
Monday, July 20, 2009
beer pong
I never thought I would be sitting here writing about playing beer pong. It was a silly game for those who had nothing better to do than hang about in bars. Besides beer pong replaced my beloved bumper pool tables! I listened with derision conversations about beer pong tournaments. I rolled my eyes at impromptu games set up in far flung places like the beach on Grand Isle, Louisiana and thought it was lame. I've heard neighbors talk glowingly about games lasting deep into the night. No, I'm not one for drinking games. I can't drink very much without feeling the effects of the alcohol. I don't need any help in getting inebriated with a game that forces me to "chug" something. I do fine on my own, and when I'm lacking in the necessary skills to "flip cups" it'll then be a short night.
But, this past weekend I played beer pong and I enjoyed it. Of course people had to drag my ass out of the chair to get me to play, but I have to admit it was fun, especially since there was no drinking involved. Cups were filled with water and it was simply a game of skill. Now I'm not going to get a neighborhood team together and start reading rulebooks and memoirs about the game, but I will tell you it was a fun time.
The occasion was this: Janet and her cousin Jimmy each had a child graduate recently from college and they threw a party this past weekend. Janet lives in a townhome and so the game was played on a sliver of grass. People milled about on her deck and on the grass where a few tables were set up. It was a good time. The two graduates are great kids, even if they can "flip cups" better than me. For food Janet smoked a salmon on her little charcoal grill and together we made a popular gazpacho. We garnished each bowl with corn and blue corn tortilla chips and a few small chunks of fresh avocado. Aunt Betty brought potato salad and there were sandwiches and snacks.
This week Janet is vacationing without me! She's with her friends in Delaware at a beach house.... Ladies only. That's okay, I'm working on my beer pong game all week. I'll be ready for the next challenger!
thanks for reading.... if you want to stop by for a game just drop me a line. the table is all set up in the garage.
But, this past weekend I played beer pong and I enjoyed it. Of course people had to drag my ass out of the chair to get me to play, but I have to admit it was fun, especially since there was no drinking involved. Cups were filled with water and it was simply a game of skill. Now I'm not going to get a neighborhood team together and start reading rulebooks and memoirs about the game, but I will tell you it was a fun time.
The occasion was this: Janet and her cousin Jimmy each had a child graduate recently from college and they threw a party this past weekend. Janet lives in a townhome and so the game was played on a sliver of grass. People milled about on her deck and on the grass where a few tables were set up. It was a good time. The two graduates are great kids, even if they can "flip cups" better than me. For food Janet smoked a salmon on her little charcoal grill and together we made a popular gazpacho. We garnished each bowl with corn and blue corn tortilla chips and a few small chunks of fresh avocado. Aunt Betty brought potato salad and there were sandwiches and snacks.
This week Janet is vacationing without me! She's with her friends in Delaware at a beach house.... Ladies only. That's okay, I'm working on my beer pong game all week. I'll be ready for the next challenger!
thanks for reading.... if you want to stop by for a game just drop me a line. the table is all set up in the garage.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
glorious summer
The nice part about going to Gunnison's Beach on a week day is that it is relatively tame. The people there are more about basking in the sun than some unsavory types, compleat with extraneous jewelry, trolling about the surf line as if on some impromptu "meet and greet". I much prefer the week day crowd because though some may consider a visit to a nude beach depraved behavior, it really is about basking in the sun on a glorious, perfect summer's day. Of course, there are always wacky people on such a beach and if you ever forget your book you can spend the day giggling at the incessant parade. If you are a reader of this blog you'll know about the game Janet and I play with making up names and I'll not go deeply into the day's ledger of characters. Meatloaf was there again arms akimbo and incessantly pontificating in his NYC nasalized tones, but we were alert enough to give him an especially wide berth and we sat upwind for him and could not hear him at all!
There was a group of people with a tent and a wind break around their campsite blaring music, mostly reggae, that, inexplicably, we never christened with a proper name. We did enjoy watching one of their number though, a rotund Asian woman who danced spastically and with no connection to the music. She flapped her arms about like a penguin in heat.
The other interesting person who caught our eye was a tall man with a full beard and long hair who walked up and down the beach with a walking stick decorated with a feather. At one point he stood shaman-like, facing New York, which could be seen in the distance. With one arm raised, the other holding onto his trusty shaman stick/peacepipe he was chanting something as we passed him. Perhaps we was blessing the city. Perhaps he was thanking the gods for delivering us this perfect, cloudless day. Perhaps he was trying to pick up Janet.
We gave him a wide berth too.
It was truly a glorious day. It was never too hot. Not humid at all. There were only decorative clouds in the distance. The water was refreshing. Sadly though it was nesting season for some protected bird on the beach. If you're interested I can probably get information about the bird to you, but because of it, we were corraled in a relatively small area of the shoreline. Ropes and signs told us not to venture further south, where there are a few miles of desolate, empty sand to stroll. Fortunately this doesn't last more than a week or two and once again we'll be able to saunter along this rare stretch of empty New Jersey shore.
We found a nice place for a drink after our beach day. We headed into Highlands, NJ, directly across Sandy Hook Bay and had a beer at Windansea. Right on the water, we sipped $4.50 beers as we watched boats head toward berths either on the Navesink or Shrewsbury River, as cool breezes graced our tawny skin and the swirling wisps of clouds danced and twirled in the last dregs of this perfect day.
There was a group of people with a tent and a wind break around their campsite blaring music, mostly reggae, that, inexplicably, we never christened with a proper name. We did enjoy watching one of their number though, a rotund Asian woman who danced spastically and with no connection to the music. She flapped her arms about like a penguin in heat.
The other interesting person who caught our eye was a tall man with a full beard and long hair who walked up and down the beach with a walking stick decorated with a feather. At one point he stood shaman-like, facing New York, which could be seen in the distance. With one arm raised, the other holding onto his trusty shaman stick/peacepipe he was chanting something as we passed him. Perhaps we was blessing the city. Perhaps he was thanking the gods for delivering us this perfect, cloudless day. Perhaps he was trying to pick up Janet.
We gave him a wide berth too.
It was truly a glorious day. It was never too hot. Not humid at all. There were only decorative clouds in the distance. The water was refreshing. Sadly though it was nesting season for some protected bird on the beach. If you're interested I can probably get information about the bird to you, but because of it, we were corraled in a relatively small area of the shoreline. Ropes and signs told us not to venture further south, where there are a few miles of desolate, empty sand to stroll. Fortunately this doesn't last more than a week or two and once again we'll be able to saunter along this rare stretch of empty New Jersey shore.
We found a nice place for a drink after our beach day. We headed into Highlands, NJ, directly across Sandy Hook Bay and had a beer at Windansea. Right on the water, we sipped $4.50 beers as we watched boats head toward berths either on the Navesink or Shrewsbury River, as cool breezes graced our tawny skin and the swirling wisps of clouds danced and twirled in the last dregs of this perfect day.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
roughing it!
I certainly enjoy camping. Over my lifetime I've hiked and camped and canoed. I advanced to Eagle Scout in Boy Scouts and I've always been drawn to the wilderness. It's even more so with Janet; she's camped all over Europe, Colorado and Alaska! So, the idea of spending four days at Ricketts Glen was thoroughably agreeable for both of us, and at the weekday rate of just $19 per day for a Pennsylvania resident, Janet lives in the Keystone commonwealth, it was a perfect vacation for our pocketbook.
Even though the trip was cheap, it was a great adventure and I plan on returning to Ricketts Glen with my son so he could experience a bit of beauty that is relatively close to the house. To attempt to describe the beauty here would be difficult because there is so much to see. I would surely miss something in my recollection. Even photographs and videos of the several waterfalls fail to capture the enormity and beauty of this display of nature. Posted with this day's account you'll see a picture of the Ganoga Falls, at 94 feet it is highest in the park. You'll see a little girl standing at the foot of the falls and a man about a third of the way up for perspective. Also I posted a short video of one of the falls, I believe it was the Seneca Falls, with audio. The roar of this cataract is thunderous and it's only a 12 foot drop.
There are 21 named waterfalls along the Falls Trail. The full length is 7.2 miles according to park literature and it's listed as difficult. People come up to the park for the day to hike it and everyone who camps takes the hike as well. It is worth the drive. It is worth the effort.
What's nice is that though the trail is steep, they've fashioned steps out of stone and it allows the hiker to pick their way along without too much fear. We happened upon a crew repairing part of the trail that had eroded. They were using natural stones and fitting them into place like a puzzle. The trails allows you to get up close to some of the falls. We were able to go to the very top of Ganoga Falls because of the paths that were fashioned by the crews at the park. According to the park literature there are two types of waterfalls featured at Ricketts Glen; a bridal veil waterfall, which falls in a single drop and the wedding cake waterfall, which falls in a connected series of drops. Ganoga Falls is a wedding cake waterfall.
Exhilerated with our hike through the falls area of Ricketts Glen, Janet and I then decided to seek dinner. Our plan was to cook one dinner at the campsite and then "eat out" for the rest! Knowing nothing of the area we visited the Camp Host, a concierge type that provides information about the area in return for a free campsite. We ambled over to their place along the main road between the two sets of camping areas at Ricketts Glen and they told us about the Jamison City Hotel's Penny Lounge. It sounded like a winner!! Better yet, to shave 10 miles off the trip they told us about a dirt road that decended through the mountains through state game lands. With a set of antlers on the outside wall hanging over a neon Coors Light sign, Janet and I knew we had arrived in the right place. After all we are adventurous souls. Last summer it was the Dirty Rice Saloon in Iowa, Lousiana and Red's Levee Bar in Catahoula, LA. Two summers ago it was the Skylight Inn in Ayden, North Carolina and three summers ago in Gros Islet, Saint Lucia it was the Friday Night Jump Up. We should at this point be galvinized to odd places that on the surface may seem suspect. Well, the Penny Lounge, aptly named because of all the Lincoln Head Cents under the lacquered surface of the bar, was a good place to visit after hiking through the woods all day. Christmas decorations still hung over the bar and woodland scene wallpaper lent a charm to the place that had shag rug on the side of the bar (I guess to keep my knees warm). Stuffed fish and guns dangled in various places around the bar. There were two people in the place; one fellow recognized us from the trail. He had said he wanted a break from working around his house and hiked the trail. There were a lot of other people on the trail too today. There were several youth camp groups obviously there for the day and for this fellow to pick us out (ahem, I mean Janet), was nice.
Anyway, the food and drink at the Jamison City Hotel is good and inexpensive. We opted for burgers instead of the all you can eat buffet at $8.95. The burgers were topped with mushrooms and onions for $4.95. Fries were $1.95. Yuengling Lager was $1.75 a pint. We spent around $20 for our two meals and drinks.
But, the next night it was burger night!!!!!!
On Thursday we went on a 12 mile hike over two different trails in the park. After a hearty breakfast of percolated coffee, bacon, eggs and yogurt, we hiked the Mountain Springs Trail which led us past something called the forgotten falls and ended at Mountain Spring Lake which was a beautiful, serene place. We ate a quick lunch of apples and then hiked three miles up a dirt road mantained by the PA Fish and Boat Commission before turning into the 4.5 mile Cherry Run Trail. Indeed, by the time we were near the end of this third leg it felt more like an endurance marathon than a hike. We had started out late (we do sleep in often) and with gathering clouds overhead, we were worried that there would either soon be nightfall or a storm. Janet kept trying to point out Bear dung, while I kept muttering "keep moving." We were out on this hike for nearly 6 hours! Tired, but happy with ourselves, we decided to drink a few beers in Lovelton, PA.... Now, you may ask why. Well, the allure of the Tombstone Inn, situated on the corner of Route 187 and Blink-and-you-missed-it Avenue is equal to all the places we've visited in the years past, but Janet has a friend up here in Bumfuck, PA and over the years they've "partied" at the Tombstone. Last time she bought me a shirt from the place that had two "party" deers on it which draws some curious looks when I wear it at the gym. Well, the Tombstone, literally next to a cemetery, "lived" up to its fun. We took a place at the end of the bar, ducking beneath twin stuffed moose heads and drank Rolling Rock in bottles. ($2.00 per) I read most of the rude bumper stickers on the canoe suspended above the bar and called my son and asked him if he'd like a $9.00 t-shirt like mine. NO.
We then moved on to the Lovelton Hotel. This, according to Janet, was supposed to be a fancier place................ I guess when you're drinking...the whole world smiles with you....God bless Dean Martin. Well, the Lovelton Hotel at least had beer on tap and edible, though very over priced for the area, food. Janet absolutely flat out refused to eat anything at the Tombstone, perhaps afraid she'd find missing teeth from any one of the bar's patrons, so we had chicken wings and two beers at the Lovelton Hotel and the tab came out to $11.00.
Hamburgers at the Lovelton Hotel were too overpriced for our sorry butts at $7.00 and although Janet had said they were good, I'm glad we held out for the Jamison City Hotel's HAMBURGER NIGHT!!!! They were grilling burgers with or without cheese for $1.50 each. That's right, I didn't move the decimal point at all....$1.50. The bartender asked us how many we wanted, but we just really needed one each. With extras like a slice of onion and mushroom costing nearly a third of the burger, an order of fries split between us and three beers, our total came out to...$10.60. As the most benevolent person, I made sure I left a 25% tip.
Sated and pleased with being so fashionably cheap we drove back up the dirt road to Ricketts Glen in the dark, happy and tired. We had accomplished a lot today.
On Friday we again lingered in the tent, had a breakfast, took a leisurely stroll once more down to the lake and then left around 1:30; you have to be out of your campsite by 3;00. We drove home to Janet's house. Along the way we stopped in Bloomsburg for coffee at a bookstore in this almost cute college town, a stop in Pottsville and the Yuengling Brewerey which was closed when we arrived, and then for a dinner and subsequent sticker shock at "Beer Guy" in Ziegerville, what we call Northside. www.ortinos.com/northside.htm It's a great place with a very healthy selection of beers. We ordered two cradles of beer samples; this time they were mostly from the Bear Republic Brewery. Thankfully Janet no longer lifts her nose at the IPA beer and she even drank later a Russian River Pliney the Elder! Well, with our beers and food the tab came to $75 w/out the tip! Time to move to hillbilly country!
On Saturday, July 11 we went to the Stoogeum for their monthly opening. http://www.stoogeum.com/. Our friend and Janet's pilates compadre, Leslie, drove, but spent the entire day talking like Curly. She also did a mean Curly shuffle dance for the crowd outside the museum. We asked a passing stranger to take our picture. She obliged and then pinched my nose. Janet went through the three story museum muttering "Nyuk, Nyuk, Nyuk," even while I tried to explain the fine nuances of Three Stooges slapstick.
Well as silly as it may seem to go to such a museum unless you're an avid fan of the Stooges, it was a worthwhile home vacation. It was free, it was entertaining and it was informative. We learned the history of the act, from the early days in Vaudeville and into television. The neat, beautiful museum was crammed with posters and artifacts and props. They had hand puppets and whoopie cushions and thimbles and, well anything you could market on display. They had something called "Shemp's Hall" and had several personal documents like a tax return and a SAG card on display. There was a video game and a pinball game, both free. There was a kiosk that had was activated by poking Curly in the eye which led to a menu of bios of the actors and the films. You could spend hours marveling over the old pictures alone. Though the place was about the Three Stooges, it was really handing us a slice of our childhood, for what kid out of the New York area didn't watch Officer Joe Bolton on WPIX hosting "The Three Stooges Funhouse"? They had a slew of pictures of the good officer as well as Philadelphia's own Sally Starr. Janet and Leslie had fond memories of the television hostess who also showed Stooges shorts during her "Popeye Theater"...isn't wikipedia great! But best of all they had a theater that continually ran Stooges shorts. You came and went as you pleased. We laughed and laughed through two before moving on to the other exhibits, which I think was an act of self preservation because it was frigid in the place! They had monitors wired up throughout the museum with the same short being aired as the theater, so you could linger near a tv while still coveting that Three Stooges lunchbox in the display counter that you once had as a kid! The museum was free, but it was all done professionally and with great taste. Open just once a month it is a great way to spend a few hours. Go their website for the next opening.
Thanks for reading you knuckleheads!
Even though the trip was cheap, it was a great adventure and I plan on returning to Ricketts Glen with my son so he could experience a bit of beauty that is relatively close to the house. To attempt to describe the beauty here would be difficult because there is so much to see. I would surely miss something in my recollection. Even photographs and videos of the several waterfalls fail to capture the enormity and beauty of this display of nature. Posted with this day's account you'll see a picture of the Ganoga Falls, at 94 feet it is highest in the park. You'll see a little girl standing at the foot of the falls and a man about a third of the way up for perspective. Also I posted a short video of one of the falls, I believe it was the Seneca Falls, with audio. The roar of this cataract is thunderous and it's only a 12 foot drop.
There are 21 named waterfalls along the Falls Trail. The full length is 7.2 miles according to park literature and it's listed as difficult. People come up to the park for the day to hike it and everyone who camps takes the hike as well. It is worth the drive. It is worth the effort.
What's nice is that though the trail is steep, they've fashioned steps out of stone and it allows the hiker to pick their way along without too much fear. We happened upon a crew repairing part of the trail that had eroded. They were using natural stones and fitting them into place like a puzzle. The trails allows you to get up close to some of the falls. We were able to go to the very top of Ganoga Falls because of the paths that were fashioned by the crews at the park. According to the park literature there are two types of waterfalls featured at Ricketts Glen; a bridal veil waterfall, which falls in a single drop and the wedding cake waterfall, which falls in a connected series of drops. Ganoga Falls is a wedding cake waterfall.
Exhilerated with our hike through the falls area of Ricketts Glen, Janet and I then decided to seek dinner. Our plan was to cook one dinner at the campsite and then "eat out" for the rest! Knowing nothing of the area we visited the Camp Host, a concierge type that provides information about the area in return for a free campsite. We ambled over to their place along the main road between the two sets of camping areas at Ricketts Glen and they told us about the Jamison City Hotel's Penny Lounge. It sounded like a winner!! Better yet, to shave 10 miles off the trip they told us about a dirt road that decended through the mountains through state game lands. With a set of antlers on the outside wall hanging over a neon Coors Light sign, Janet and I knew we had arrived in the right place. After all we are adventurous souls. Last summer it was the Dirty Rice Saloon in Iowa, Lousiana and Red's Levee Bar in Catahoula, LA. Two summers ago it was the Skylight Inn in Ayden, North Carolina and three summers ago in Gros Islet, Saint Lucia it was the Friday Night Jump Up. We should at this point be galvinized to odd places that on the surface may seem suspect. Well, the Penny Lounge, aptly named because of all the Lincoln Head Cents under the lacquered surface of the bar, was a good place to visit after hiking through the woods all day. Christmas decorations still hung over the bar and woodland scene wallpaper lent a charm to the place that had shag rug on the side of the bar (I guess to keep my knees warm). Stuffed fish and guns dangled in various places around the bar. There were two people in the place; one fellow recognized us from the trail. He had said he wanted a break from working around his house and hiked the trail. There were a lot of other people on the trail too today. There were several youth camp groups obviously there for the day and for this fellow to pick us out (ahem, I mean Janet), was nice.
Anyway, the food and drink at the Jamison City Hotel is good and inexpensive. We opted for burgers instead of the all you can eat buffet at $8.95. The burgers were topped with mushrooms and onions for $4.95. Fries were $1.95. Yuengling Lager was $1.75 a pint. We spent around $20 for our two meals and drinks.
But, the next night it was burger night!!!!!!
On Thursday we went on a 12 mile hike over two different trails in the park. After a hearty breakfast of percolated coffee, bacon, eggs and yogurt, we hiked the Mountain Springs Trail which led us past something called the forgotten falls and ended at Mountain Spring Lake which was a beautiful, serene place. We ate a quick lunch of apples and then hiked three miles up a dirt road mantained by the PA Fish and Boat Commission before turning into the 4.5 mile Cherry Run Trail. Indeed, by the time we were near the end of this third leg it felt more like an endurance marathon than a hike. We had started out late (we do sleep in often) and with gathering clouds overhead, we were worried that there would either soon be nightfall or a storm. Janet kept trying to point out Bear dung, while I kept muttering "keep moving." We were out on this hike for nearly 6 hours! Tired, but happy with ourselves, we decided to drink a few beers in Lovelton, PA.... Now, you may ask why. Well, the allure of the Tombstone Inn, situated on the corner of Route 187 and Blink-and-you-missed-it Avenue is equal to all the places we've visited in the years past, but Janet has a friend up here in Bumfuck, PA and over the years they've "partied" at the Tombstone. Last time she bought me a shirt from the place that had two "party" deers on it which draws some curious looks when I wear it at the gym. Well, the Tombstone, literally next to a cemetery, "lived" up to its fun. We took a place at the end of the bar, ducking beneath twin stuffed moose heads and drank Rolling Rock in bottles. ($2.00 per) I read most of the rude bumper stickers on the canoe suspended above the bar and called my son and asked him if he'd like a $9.00 t-shirt like mine. NO.
We then moved on to the Lovelton Hotel. This, according to Janet, was supposed to be a fancier place................ I guess when you're drinking...the whole world smiles with you....God bless Dean Martin. Well, the Lovelton Hotel at least had beer on tap and edible, though very over priced for the area, food. Janet absolutely flat out refused to eat anything at the Tombstone, perhaps afraid she'd find missing teeth from any one of the bar's patrons, so we had chicken wings and two beers at the Lovelton Hotel and the tab came out to $11.00.
Hamburgers at the Lovelton Hotel were too overpriced for our sorry butts at $7.00 and although Janet had said they were good, I'm glad we held out for the Jamison City Hotel's HAMBURGER NIGHT!!!! They were grilling burgers with or without cheese for $1.50 each. That's right, I didn't move the decimal point at all....$1.50. The bartender asked us how many we wanted, but we just really needed one each. With extras like a slice of onion and mushroom costing nearly a third of the burger, an order of fries split between us and three beers, our total came out to...$10.60. As the most benevolent person, I made sure I left a 25% tip.
Sated and pleased with being so fashionably cheap we drove back up the dirt road to Ricketts Glen in the dark, happy and tired. We had accomplished a lot today.
On Friday we again lingered in the tent, had a breakfast, took a leisurely stroll once more down to the lake and then left around 1:30; you have to be out of your campsite by 3;00. We drove home to Janet's house. Along the way we stopped in Bloomsburg for coffee at a bookstore in this almost cute college town, a stop in Pottsville and the Yuengling Brewerey which was closed when we arrived, and then for a dinner and subsequent sticker shock at "Beer Guy" in Ziegerville, what we call Northside. www.ortinos.com/northside.htm It's a great place with a very healthy selection of beers. We ordered two cradles of beer samples; this time they were mostly from the Bear Republic Brewery. Thankfully Janet no longer lifts her nose at the IPA beer and she even drank later a Russian River Pliney the Elder! Well, with our beers and food the tab came to $75 w/out the tip! Time to move to hillbilly country!
On Saturday, July 11 we went to the Stoogeum for their monthly opening. http://www.stoogeum.com/. Our friend and Janet's pilates compadre, Leslie, drove, but spent the entire day talking like Curly. She also did a mean Curly shuffle dance for the crowd outside the museum. We asked a passing stranger to take our picture. She obliged and then pinched my nose. Janet went through the three story museum muttering "Nyuk, Nyuk, Nyuk," even while I tried to explain the fine nuances of Three Stooges slapstick.
Well as silly as it may seem to go to such a museum unless you're an avid fan of the Stooges, it was a worthwhile home vacation. It was free, it was entertaining and it was informative. We learned the history of the act, from the early days in Vaudeville and into television. The neat, beautiful museum was crammed with posters and artifacts and props. They had hand puppets and whoopie cushions and thimbles and, well anything you could market on display. They had something called "Shemp's Hall" and had several personal documents like a tax return and a SAG card on display. There was a video game and a pinball game, both free. There was a kiosk that had was activated by poking Curly in the eye which led to a menu of bios of the actors and the films. You could spend hours marveling over the old pictures alone. Though the place was about the Three Stooges, it was really handing us a slice of our childhood, for what kid out of the New York area didn't watch Officer Joe Bolton on WPIX hosting "The Three Stooges Funhouse"? They had a slew of pictures of the good officer as well as Philadelphia's own Sally Starr. Janet and Leslie had fond memories of the television hostess who also showed Stooges shorts during her "Popeye Theater"...isn't wikipedia great! But best of all they had a theater that continually ran Stooges shorts. You came and went as you pleased. We laughed and laughed through two before moving on to the other exhibits, which I think was an act of self preservation because it was frigid in the place! They had monitors wired up throughout the museum with the same short being aired as the theater, so you could linger near a tv while still coveting that Three Stooges lunchbox in the display counter that you once had as a kid! The museum was free, but it was all done professionally and with great taste. Open just once a month it is a great way to spend a few hours. Go their website for the next opening.
Thanks for reading you knuckleheads!
Friday, July 10, 2009
better late than never....
July 7, 2009
Things are happening swift and furiously folks. Home vacations have geared up tremendously in the past few days, so much so I have had little time to sit and write about our events! But now that I’ve gotten settled in at our campsite at Ricketts Glen in Pennsylvania and the intermittent rain has finally stopped and I’m blessed with the blue skies promised by the weather reports, I can finally write some and share our escapades for the past number of days.
But first, a word of caution before I begin; I am writing on a laptop and there are no electrified logs here. The only outlet is at the shower facilities. There is no phone service here either and sadly there isn’t a wifi café anywhere at all near here. I am writing as much as I can for as long as I can and will post this at the first sign of civilization that doesn’t involve some kid rolling down the macadam on a scooter. (I'm actually back at Janet's house and finally I am able to post this very tardy entry....)
Ricketts Glen is in Sullivan County, Pennsylvania; roughly 90 miles from Janet’s town. We arrived today, Tuesday, and leave on Friday. Janet has been talking about coming here for years now and finally with home vacations making this a real possibility, indeed necessity; this is a great place to visit. She says the Falls Trail that we are to hike tomorrow is spectacular. Featuring 21 different waterfalls, with one cataract cascading 94 feet, it will be a steep, arduous hike, but evidently worth the effort. A fellow who works at my gym has also spoke glowingly of this Pennsylvanian State Park and comes here often to photograph the scenery. Overall Ricketts Glen has 26 miles of hikes.
Though Janet has been here, she has never camped at Ricketts Glen. She has camped often in the past and has regaled me with tales of roughing it in Alaska and backpacking through the Colorado Rockies. I have camped and backpacked too, as well as several overnight canoeing trips down the Delaware, but nothing as exotic in location as Janet can boast. This is the first camping experience for us as a couple. This isn’t really roughing it though. I have a spacious 4 man tent. Janet provided an air mattress, pillows, sheets and comforter. This is car camping after all…and at $19 per night during the week for a Pennsylvania resident, this is well within our home vacation requirement of not spending money. But, everyone else has the same idea. The allure of a cheap vacation means we are not alone. We are in campsite 114. There are people all around us, like we’re living in a townhome, but the lakefront is serene and we are both very happy to be here. I think one of the days here we are going to rent a canoe and paddle about. That is if the rain holds out. I noticed that the weather changes rapidly here. We are roughly 2400 feet above sea level and the clouds roil in and out, alternately dousing us and then bathing us in brilliant sunlight. As I write, I have one eye constantly on the sky above.
Last week there was no vacationing at all. She and I spent the week apart tending to home and family matters and were logistically homebound. I helped my struggling son look for a summer job and I felt I did some very good writing in my new novel, while Janet held the hand of one daughter through the breakup with a boyfriend and then picked up the other from the airport. SHE was in England for 3 weeks….there’s something wrong with this picture huh? I mean a kid is in England for three weeks while her mom and her vacuous boyfriend camp. (At least we snuck good Dogfish Head 60 minute IPA’s into the park to drink…though that’s against park rules….) On the other hand I shouldn’t bitch about such things, because all four of our kids are working, and we are gainfully unemployed!
Speaking of novels, I’m still trying to find a publisher for my second book. I finished it a couple of years ago and I haphazardly send it out to potential publishers and agents. I actually love to write, but I certainly hate the business part of my craft. Anyway, if you have any leads, or if you’d like to read a manuscript version of my book, write to me. Greg.dunaj@yahoo.com . You can also read the first chapter of my first novel at: xlibris.com/hihowareyou.html.
On Saturday, the fourth of July, we celebrated the holiday with what has become a fine tradition for us; we listened to the Riverside Symphonia while fireworks are set off at Tinicum Park in Pennsylvania. The Symphonia is headquartered in Lambertville and throughout the year they play several shows in the area. By far, the event we attended last weekend is the highlight of their calendar year. Held on the polo grounds at the park (another cheap home vacation at $5.00 per car each Saturday afternoon during the summer), the celebration draws in the neighborhood of 5,000 people and it is a festive affair. This year we invited Janet’s mother and her elderly aunt to attend. We dragged in a folding table and had wine and cheese to begin, Aunt Betty’s famous potato salad and chicken, cookies and German chocolate cupcakes made by Janet’s mother. Throughout the show tunes, classical music, Sinatra and Cole Porter homage’s as well as the required patriotic music played by the symphonia, we ate and drank and then ooed and aahed at the fireworks. Janet was very happy we were able to share such a good time with her mother and her aunt. Because I don't have any of my family members alive it was doubly wonderful for me to share these experiences with Mame and Aunt Betty!
Sunday was the makeup baseball game at Waterfront Park in Trenton. Though the Thunder eventually lost 5-0 to the New Britain Rock Cats our seats were so close to home it did not matter who played. As a fan of the game, it was exciting to be there. The thud of the baseball into the catcher’s mitt has so loud that it had us wincing each time. We saw the grimace of a called third strike on the batter’s face. The crack of the bat was like the report of a rifle. We were so close to the action we could tell if the umpire missed the call!
The Trenton Thunder lost, but because they are the AA affiliate of the Yankees we got to see a major leaguer get in some rehab playing time. Jose Molina, a backup catcher, was behind the plate for the first 5 innings and we could tell by his level of play was of major league quality, especially compared to some of the freshmen on the team. Sadly though, Molina struck out feebly three times before being removed.
We were seated in row section 13, row AA seats 7 & 8. We were right at the net. It was good to be there. The sun was brillant and no clouds hovered overhead. Throughout the game we drank either Heferweizen or Spatan Octoberfest beer. Afterwards I drove Janet down to that central Jersey iconic diner, Mastoris. We each had grilled cheese and ham sandwiches that were obscenely huge; Janet couldn’t believe she allowed us to order two. At the counter we each ate one half of our sandwich and took the other home, the car listing noticeably from the extra weight of the leftovers. The beers at the ballpark were just $5.75 each. The sandwich was $9.50.
Monday we prepped for our travels. We had aired out my tent over the weekend and we cobbled together other items at my house. We then drove to Janet’s house in our separate cars and went food shopping for our trip. We plan on making just one dinner and finding places to eat out here in the wild lands of the commonwealth. Tonight Janet is preparing Beef stroganoff Hamburger Helper. While she cooks I surreptitiously swill a Dogfish 60 IPA.
Earlier today we walked the trail to the beach at the lake here and watched Amish boys and girls play volley ball. Not one of their number went into the water. I held out as long as I could to see if the girls would strip down to bikinis, but Janet soon tired of this and pulled me by the ear back to the campsite.
Tomorrow we hike the popular Falls Trail at Ricketts Glen.
Because we just got back to Janet's house after traveling over 100 miles from Ricketts Glen this will be the only post. I will describe our Falls Trail hike as well as the 12 mile jaunt through the woods as soon as possible. Included in this future edition of my blog will be dirt roads through state game lands to reach the Jamison Hotel; great bar with very cheap food; and an adventurous trip to Lovelton and the Tombstone Sportsman's Lounge. Please keep in touch!!!!!
Things are happening swift and furiously folks. Home vacations have geared up tremendously in the past few days, so much so I have had little time to sit and write about our events! But now that I’ve gotten settled in at our campsite at Ricketts Glen in Pennsylvania and the intermittent rain has finally stopped and I’m blessed with the blue skies promised by the weather reports, I can finally write some and share our escapades for the past number of days.
But first, a word of caution before I begin; I am writing on a laptop and there are no electrified logs here. The only outlet is at the shower facilities. There is no phone service here either and sadly there isn’t a wifi café anywhere at all near here. I am writing as much as I can for as long as I can and will post this at the first sign of civilization that doesn’t involve some kid rolling down the macadam on a scooter. (I'm actually back at Janet's house and finally I am able to post this very tardy entry....)
Ricketts Glen is in Sullivan County, Pennsylvania; roughly 90 miles from Janet’s town. We arrived today, Tuesday, and leave on Friday. Janet has been talking about coming here for years now and finally with home vacations making this a real possibility, indeed necessity; this is a great place to visit. She says the Falls Trail that we are to hike tomorrow is spectacular. Featuring 21 different waterfalls, with one cataract cascading 94 feet, it will be a steep, arduous hike, but evidently worth the effort. A fellow who works at my gym has also spoke glowingly of this Pennsylvanian State Park and comes here often to photograph the scenery. Overall Ricketts Glen has 26 miles of hikes.
Though Janet has been here, she has never camped at Ricketts Glen. She has camped often in the past and has regaled me with tales of roughing it in Alaska and backpacking through the Colorado Rockies. I have camped and backpacked too, as well as several overnight canoeing trips down the Delaware, but nothing as exotic in location as Janet can boast. This is the first camping experience for us as a couple. This isn’t really roughing it though. I have a spacious 4 man tent. Janet provided an air mattress, pillows, sheets and comforter. This is car camping after all…and at $19 per night during the week for a Pennsylvania resident, this is well within our home vacation requirement of not spending money. But, everyone else has the same idea. The allure of a cheap vacation means we are not alone. We are in campsite 114. There are people all around us, like we’re living in a townhome, but the lakefront is serene and we are both very happy to be here. I think one of the days here we are going to rent a canoe and paddle about. That is if the rain holds out. I noticed that the weather changes rapidly here. We are roughly 2400 feet above sea level and the clouds roil in and out, alternately dousing us and then bathing us in brilliant sunlight. As I write, I have one eye constantly on the sky above.
Last week there was no vacationing at all. She and I spent the week apart tending to home and family matters and were logistically homebound. I helped my struggling son look for a summer job and I felt I did some very good writing in my new novel, while Janet held the hand of one daughter through the breakup with a boyfriend and then picked up the other from the airport. SHE was in England for 3 weeks….there’s something wrong with this picture huh? I mean a kid is in England for three weeks while her mom and her vacuous boyfriend camp. (At least we snuck good Dogfish Head 60 minute IPA’s into the park to drink…though that’s against park rules….) On the other hand I shouldn’t bitch about such things, because all four of our kids are working, and we are gainfully unemployed!
Speaking of novels, I’m still trying to find a publisher for my second book. I finished it a couple of years ago and I haphazardly send it out to potential publishers and agents. I actually love to write, but I certainly hate the business part of my craft. Anyway, if you have any leads, or if you’d like to read a manuscript version of my book, write to me. Greg.dunaj@yahoo.com . You can also read the first chapter of my first novel at: xlibris.com/hihowareyou.html.
On Saturday, the fourth of July, we celebrated the holiday with what has become a fine tradition for us; we listened to the Riverside Symphonia while fireworks are set off at Tinicum Park in Pennsylvania. The Symphonia is headquartered in Lambertville and throughout the year they play several shows in the area. By far, the event we attended last weekend is the highlight of their calendar year. Held on the polo grounds at the park (another cheap home vacation at $5.00 per car each Saturday afternoon during the summer), the celebration draws in the neighborhood of 5,000 people and it is a festive affair. This year we invited Janet’s mother and her elderly aunt to attend. We dragged in a folding table and had wine and cheese to begin, Aunt Betty’s famous potato salad and chicken, cookies and German chocolate cupcakes made by Janet’s mother. Throughout the show tunes, classical music, Sinatra and Cole Porter homage’s as well as the required patriotic music played by the symphonia, we ate and drank and then ooed and aahed at the fireworks. Janet was very happy we were able to share such a good time with her mother and her aunt. Because I don't have any of my family members alive it was doubly wonderful for me to share these experiences with Mame and Aunt Betty!
Sunday was the makeup baseball game at Waterfront Park in Trenton. Though the Thunder eventually lost 5-0 to the New Britain Rock Cats our seats were so close to home it did not matter who played. As a fan of the game, it was exciting to be there. The thud of the baseball into the catcher’s mitt has so loud that it had us wincing each time. We saw the grimace of a called third strike on the batter’s face. The crack of the bat was like the report of a rifle. We were so close to the action we could tell if the umpire missed the call!
The Trenton Thunder lost, but because they are the AA affiliate of the Yankees we got to see a major leaguer get in some rehab playing time. Jose Molina, a backup catcher, was behind the plate for the first 5 innings and we could tell by his level of play was of major league quality, especially compared to some of the freshmen on the team. Sadly though, Molina struck out feebly three times before being removed.
We were seated in row section 13, row AA seats 7 & 8. We were right at the net. It was good to be there. The sun was brillant and no clouds hovered overhead. Throughout the game we drank either Heferweizen or Spatan Octoberfest beer. Afterwards I drove Janet down to that central Jersey iconic diner, Mastoris. We each had grilled cheese and ham sandwiches that were obscenely huge; Janet couldn’t believe she allowed us to order two. At the counter we each ate one half of our sandwich and took the other home, the car listing noticeably from the extra weight of the leftovers. The beers at the ballpark were just $5.75 each. The sandwich was $9.50.
Monday we prepped for our travels. We had aired out my tent over the weekend and we cobbled together other items at my house. We then drove to Janet’s house in our separate cars and went food shopping for our trip. We plan on making just one dinner and finding places to eat out here in the wild lands of the commonwealth. Tonight Janet is preparing Beef stroganoff Hamburger Helper. While she cooks I surreptitiously swill a Dogfish 60 IPA.
Earlier today we walked the trail to the beach at the lake here and watched Amish boys and girls play volley ball. Not one of their number went into the water. I held out as long as I could to see if the girls would strip down to bikinis, but Janet soon tired of this and pulled me by the ear back to the campsite.
Tomorrow we hike the popular Falls Trail at Ricketts Glen.
Because we just got back to Janet's house after traveling over 100 miles from Ricketts Glen this will be the only post. I will describe our Falls Trail hike as well as the 12 mile jaunt through the woods as soon as possible. Included in this future edition of my blog will be dirt roads through state game lands to reach the Jamison Hotel; great bar with very cheap food; and an adventurous trip to Lovelton and the Tombstone Sportsman's Lounge. Please keep in touch!!!!!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
couch surfing
Without a doubt couch surfing is the most preferable method of vacationing. What better way to see the world than through the hospitality of friends! Like islands in the stream, friends are there for you, hopefully. Sadly there are those without friendly stars to guide them and for them there are are only hotel reservations and meal plans. Though the couch, the comfortable couch, may not have the cache of housekeeping turndown service with a little mint, those superficial ammenities cannot replace the open arms and eager embraces of friends who are absolutely delighted to see you. String enough of friends together and like a dilettante on the Grand Tour you are stylin'!
Now, of course, extended couch stays are taboo. They leave a bad taste and perhaps future travels will be curtailed. Graciously decline at least twice the offer to remain more than an extended weekend. You don't want to be a burden to your guest. Of course if they still insist you must be prepared to be helpful around the abode and not loll about like a lazy sea lion. Laundry, cooking, sweeping, folding clothes are all manageable methods of procuring lengthy stays, as well as the purchase of alcohol, beers and meals. Though we are trying to be cheap here, you'll have to spend something! Truthfully though one must come bearing gifts for every visited couch and not just smiles or a lascivious offer of a massage. A bottle of wine, a six pack of beer, a small collectable are acceptable. Flowers fetched from your host's front yard are not acceptable. Verbal compliments are nice, but they are not enough. Pictures taken on your cell phone of the road kill you passed a few miles back are not enough.
Now conversely, if you are fortunate to have a coveted chesterfield you must never take such advantage of your guest that it leaves them feeling defiled. You must be as gracious as your guests, unless of course you want to put the screws to say, your lout of a brother-in-law, and steer him away from the Applebee's dinner he had planned as payment, or at least order several extra drinks, a couple of appetizers and the surf and turf.
If you are traveling to more than one destination and no friends are available in between, you'll have to bite the bullet and spend some of that cash of yours. You may opt for the cheapest no-tell motel and the lack of charm as an overnight stay may be offset by the price, but usually nefarious types will lurk about such places and thudding headboards and pillows infused with smoke or worse may lead to sleepness nights. You want to be refreshed and at least look happy to see your new couch and it is this blogger's opinion that a good night's sleep in a decent hotel will do the trick. No one wants to have a smelly grouch lounging on their davenport. One must never drive such a long distance to avoid a stay over in a hotel as to court disaster or arrive smelling like diesel fuel and your clothes stained with coffee and the remnants of that Boston Creme donut you bought at the last Cracker Barrel.
No couch surfing is a a wonderful way to travel, but one must do it with style. You may be cheap, but at least you have style as you travel.
After the visit a small note of thanks either through an email, letter or phone call is important, even if your host insists on falling asleep in his comfy chair before the television as you bury your head in the settee in an attempt to escaoe his snoring and flatulence. Never ever complain! That goes against every code of the couch surfer. Just smile a lot, even if your headache keeps your eyes from squinting with happiness. If the stay was that bad, and has it ever been so awful to offset the small cost involved, then simply resolve to find other friends in the area if you decide to return, or order an extra drink yourself so you'll sleep more soundly.
On a serious note though there is an organization that links up people willing to couch surf around the world. If we had planned this better perhaps your Vacations From Home team would have been reporting from someplace like Spain or Seattle.
http://www.couchsurfing.org/
Now, of course, extended couch stays are taboo. They leave a bad taste and perhaps future travels will be curtailed. Graciously decline at least twice the offer to remain more than an extended weekend. You don't want to be a burden to your guest. Of course if they still insist you must be prepared to be helpful around the abode and not loll about like a lazy sea lion. Laundry, cooking, sweeping, folding clothes are all manageable methods of procuring lengthy stays, as well as the purchase of alcohol, beers and meals. Though we are trying to be cheap here, you'll have to spend something! Truthfully though one must come bearing gifts for every visited couch and not just smiles or a lascivious offer of a massage. A bottle of wine, a six pack of beer, a small collectable are acceptable. Flowers fetched from your host's front yard are not acceptable. Verbal compliments are nice, but they are not enough. Pictures taken on your cell phone of the road kill you passed a few miles back are not enough.
Now conversely, if you are fortunate to have a coveted chesterfield you must never take such advantage of your guest that it leaves them feeling defiled. You must be as gracious as your guests, unless of course you want to put the screws to say, your lout of a brother-in-law, and steer him away from the Applebee's dinner he had planned as payment, or at least order several extra drinks, a couple of appetizers and the surf and turf.
If you are traveling to more than one destination and no friends are available in between, you'll have to bite the bullet and spend some of that cash of yours. You may opt for the cheapest no-tell motel and the lack of charm as an overnight stay may be offset by the price, but usually nefarious types will lurk about such places and thudding headboards and pillows infused with smoke or worse may lead to sleepness nights. You want to be refreshed and at least look happy to see your new couch and it is this blogger's opinion that a good night's sleep in a decent hotel will do the trick. No one wants to have a smelly grouch lounging on their davenport. One must never drive such a long distance to avoid a stay over in a hotel as to court disaster or arrive smelling like diesel fuel and your clothes stained with coffee and the remnants of that Boston Creme donut you bought at the last Cracker Barrel.
No couch surfing is a a wonderful way to travel, but one must do it with style. You may be cheap, but at least you have style as you travel.
After the visit a small note of thanks either through an email, letter or phone call is important, even if your host insists on falling asleep in his comfy chair before the television as you bury your head in the settee in an attempt to escaoe his snoring and flatulence. Never ever complain! That goes against every code of the couch surfer. Just smile a lot, even if your headache keeps your eyes from squinting with happiness. If the stay was that bad, and has it ever been so awful to offset the small cost involved, then simply resolve to find other friends in the area if you decide to return, or order an extra drink yourself so you'll sleep more soundly.
On a serious note though there is an organization that links up people willing to couch surf around the world. If we had planned this better perhaps your Vacations From Home team would have been reporting from someplace like Spain or Seattle.
http://www.couchsurfing.org/
Monday, June 29, 2009
don't tell aunt betty
Evidently people like the way I cook. My good, but limited, menu consists of gumbo, rum soaked black beans and "chicken Dunaj". I make things like Key Lime Pie. Friends still talk about a meal I made a couple of years ago with Alaskan caught halibut and tequila. I can boil water and I can make potato salad. You know...with either bacon and mustard, or dill....
Sunday we had a graduation party to attend and the subject of potato salad had come up. I offered to make some for the hosts, Carl and Jill. They were stuck with this one ingredient for the day's plans. So, I offered and Janet smoked a salmon fillet and I churned up some potato salad, all the while drinking some very good white Bordeaux, Graves. Janet was impressed with my concoction. I don't know if the wine was influencing her ability to decide, but she said it was very good. Then the subject of potato salad came up for next weekend's Fourth of July celebration. We're attending again the Riverside Symphonia at Tinicum Park in Pennsylvania. It's a grand event held on a polo field and the Symphonia plays classical and show tunes and then switches to patriotic John Philip Souza stuff when the fireworks begin. It is an event that has many people eating grand meals and drinks, some with caterers. We've asked Janet's mother and her Aunt Betty to come, and evidently Aunt Betty's recipe for potato salad has had Janet's family jumping up and shouting hurrah for decades..... (Janet said mine was better....Betty must never know!) I too shall leap for joy with the first taste of her potato salad!
Anyway, the party was in Downingtown, PA at Carl and Jill's house. Situated on two acres along the Brandwine Creek it is pastoral and I relish the opportunity to visit. We showed up hours in advance to help with preparations and were rewarded with a great time and a place to sleep and today we lingered for most of the day at their pool. That's not really mooching is it? I mean we did a lot of work...happily. They are good people and they have a retirement home in Milford, DE and we've been down there several times already; we were down there over the Memorial Day weekend.
For a home vacation you could do worse.
Sunday we had a graduation party to attend and the subject of potato salad had come up. I offered to make some for the hosts, Carl and Jill. They were stuck with this one ingredient for the day's plans. So, I offered and Janet smoked a salmon fillet and I churned up some potato salad, all the while drinking some very good white Bordeaux, Graves. Janet was impressed with my concoction. I don't know if the wine was influencing her ability to decide, but she said it was very good. Then the subject of potato salad came up for next weekend's Fourth of July celebration. We're attending again the Riverside Symphonia at Tinicum Park in Pennsylvania. It's a grand event held on a polo field and the Symphonia plays classical and show tunes and then switches to patriotic John Philip Souza stuff when the fireworks begin. It is an event that has many people eating grand meals and drinks, some with caterers. We've asked Janet's mother and her Aunt Betty to come, and evidently Aunt Betty's recipe for potato salad has had Janet's family jumping up and shouting hurrah for decades..... (Janet said mine was better....Betty must never know!) I too shall leap for joy with the first taste of her potato salad!
Anyway, the party was in Downingtown, PA at Carl and Jill's house. Situated on two acres along the Brandwine Creek it is pastoral and I relish the opportunity to visit. We showed up hours in advance to help with preparations and were rewarded with a great time and a place to sleep and today we lingered for most of the day at their pool. That's not really mooching is it? I mean we did a lot of work...happily. They are good people and they have a retirement home in Milford, DE and we've been down there several times already; we were down there over the Memorial Day weekend.
For a home vacation you could do worse.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
trenton thundershowers
We attempted to go to the Trenton Thunder/Reading Phillies AA baseball game at Riverfront Stadium in Trenton last night, but it was rained out. The game was delayed for nearly an hour, but after only 1 1/2 innings of play it started pouring again. Even though the rain stopped the field conditions were too bad to continue.
We still had a great time. The ball park is new and clean and the prices were very good. I paid $12 for seats that were down the first base line and just a few rows from the field. Good beer, like Spaten Munich was available at the BeerHaus for $5.75, which is just .25 more than the Buds, etc. We ate a couple of burgers and some Chickie and Pete's Crab Fries, drank some beer, gave our Trenton Thunder playing cards to the kid next to us because he and his father got to the stadium too late for the free giveaway, dodged some lightning bolts, got up close and personal with some people as we waited out the storm and then watched the top half of the second inning a few rows up from home plate as we figured people were not coming back after the delays; it was already 9:30. Later when the game was called we exchanged our tickets for a game on July 5 and in first row seats directly behind home plate. We were excited to be able to return. Plus, there will be fireworks that night. Those same seats would cost me thousands of dollars in Yankee Stadium!
I know these aren't tales of some exotic locales, or far flung lands, but these days of Home Vacationing are endearing. So often have I rushed at first opportunity to get away from home to see something else, I failed to regard my environs with any appreciative eye. Perhaps it's easier to find the alluring qualities in vacationing from home because I have been many, many places. I recently did one of those silly things on Facebook where you "pin" the places you've visited, and I came up with 24 countries. There are of course many places in this wide world I have not seen, and many places I would love to return to, but for now $12 tickets at the baseball game is my world. And, I am happy with where I am.
love to all....greg
We still had a great time. The ball park is new and clean and the prices were very good. I paid $12 for seats that were down the first base line and just a few rows from the field. Good beer, like Spaten Munich was available at the BeerHaus for $5.75, which is just .25 more than the Buds, etc. We ate a couple of burgers and some Chickie and Pete's Crab Fries, drank some beer, gave our Trenton Thunder playing cards to the kid next to us because he and his father got to the stadium too late for the free giveaway, dodged some lightning bolts, got up close and personal with some people as we waited out the storm and then watched the top half of the second inning a few rows up from home plate as we figured people were not coming back after the delays; it was already 9:30. Later when the game was called we exchanged our tickets for a game on July 5 and in first row seats directly behind home plate. We were excited to be able to return. Plus, there will be fireworks that night. Those same seats would cost me thousands of dollars in Yankee Stadium!
I know these aren't tales of some exotic locales, or far flung lands, but these days of Home Vacationing are endearing. So often have I rushed at first opportunity to get away from home to see something else, I failed to regard my environs with any appreciative eye. Perhaps it's easier to find the alluring qualities in vacationing from home because I have been many, many places. I recently did one of those silly things on Facebook where you "pin" the places you've visited, and I came up with 24 countries. There are of course many places in this wide world I have not seen, and many places I would love to return to, but for now $12 tickets at the baseball game is my world. And, I am happy with where I am.
love to all....greg
Thursday, June 25, 2009
6 months till christmas
We are as far away from Christmas as you can get and today is the first day we're going to the shore. It's supposed to be a great beach day, the first one in a long while. I just checked the weather for Sandy Hook and it's looking good!
We opted to sleep in rather than get up at an ugodly hour to drive across New Jersey in order to save on the $10 admission to Sandy Hook, which opens at 7:00. I know I'm a cheap bum, but I like to sleep in sometimes. To make it before 7:00 comfortably we would have had to leave around 4:30 a.m. YUCK.
Lambertville is almost directly west of Sandy Hook and on the other side of New Jersey. There are just three main roads to follow ... 518, 522 and 520. The last bit of the ride before we hit Sea Bright is through Rumson, where Janet had me stop at a lemonade stand being operated by Bruce. He was wearing a Journey tour shirt and a John Deere trucker's hat. Actually, throughout the ride we were worried for the clouds seemed more ominous than we expected. But the reports said it would be a beach day and when we left the leafy streets of Rumson and hit Route 36 in Sea Bright, it looked much more promising.
It was a great day at the beach. We arrived around 11:00 and did not leave until 6 p.m. After gettting Janet set up I went for a run. The last marathon I entered started at Sandy Hook and the first 8 miles of the race are lonely, for there are few people in the park at race time. I still like running along the multi use path they have that courses the length of Sandy Hook from the entrance to the Fort Hancock coast guard station at the north end. In all I ran about 5 miles.
Sufficiently sweaty I rejoined Janet and we relaxed in the full sun for the rest of the day, sneaking peeks at the other naked bodies that surrounded us. I had prepared some chicken and had some leftover pineapple salsa and we bought a beer from the beer guy on the beach for quite a good lunch. We went for a long walk along the surf, sometimes walking in the cold water knee deep, though we tactfully avoided going all the way in, unless nature called us! We also tactfully avoided a colleague of Janet's who was down at the southern end of the beach, wearing his trademark denim hat.
As we lolled under the cloudless sky we became painfully aware of several odd personalities that plied Gunnison's Beach. Janet and I have a great time making up knicknames for people. The fellow running the concession stand at the nude beach, his eyes never looking up at the myriad of body types, extra folds and all, was referred to as "beer guy", of course. Behind us, as we slowly revolved our chairs to face the sun arching across the sky, was "Meatloaf", who kept up a constant harangue about everything from trading with the Chinese to the death of Farrah Fawcett...we did not yet know about MJ... His grating voice was as loud as his belly was rotound. Before we rotated our chairs away from him, he stood posing in all his glory, arms akimbo and spewed out his diatribe to his little (but not in girth) clutch of friends. There's something good about the passage of time.
Throughout the day we listened to the bickering of a couple. We called them "Terminator" and "Iced T". He had a military haircut and physique, wore mirrored sunglasses and alternated between yelling at and canoodling with his tattooed and statuesque girlfriend, whose "high maintenance" attitude went well with her "high priced" boobs (or so Janet says). Iced T kept saying she was going to Arizona....see the connection... and Terminator would tell her to go now, loudly! Then they would lapse into a cuddle phase until the next round of complaints. The name "Terminator" replaced "Jarhead" when he said at one point he too hated his job...to which I started muttering to Janet in an Arnold voice that "humans are too easy to kill."
Aside from the varied and typically creepy men walking around trying to either ogle Janet or me, the latter usually adorned with tattooes, piercings and attachments to their nether regions, there was "Banana Man" who gained the name when he left, putting on a yellow t-shirt and a pair of tight-fitting yellow stetchy pants that revealed obscenly every centimeter of his old rickety ass even though he had just been fully naked. There was "Tent Boy" who struggled with a pop up tent, but never entered it, preferring to sit cross legged before it smoking cigarettes like a prostitute before a brothel. There was "The Ghost", a white haired, white skinned man whose color never reddened throughout the day though he lounged in the sun with his younger looking wife.
But the most disturbing character was "The Mushroom" and his companion whom we named "Dick-Girl". Mushroom wore tighty white briefs to the beach under his shorts. He never got fully naked and spent the day wearing just a white-shirt. It made him look like a mental patient looking for the toilet. Had he remained in his folding chair with his blanket wrapped around his head and allowed his "girlfriend" who also never got naked and wore double tops and a demin mini skirt, to writhe before him, he would have just been another weird person at Gunnisons. BUT...he would get up and walk around and stare at people. At one point Janet opened her eyes to see him hovering over her, lasciviously drooling. Now, it is appropriate to "look" at people, either for the "entertainment" or "grotesque" value, but you're supposed to give it a quick once over and not stare. This guy was creepy. His girlfriend was creepy. We thought she was a man, hence the name. But, we realized "Dick-Girl," was not an appropriate moniker for her when they eventually left and she flashed us while tucking in her shirt. The whole afternoon would have become unhinged if not for our ability to find the humor in everything. We laughed and laughed and shook our heads.
We stopped in Red Bank at a brew pub called Basil T's. They make several respectable beers and I had the IPA and a stout. Janet drank a Hefeweizen or wheat beer. The beers were adequate, but the cost of their food was outrageous. After drinking a couple rounds at the crowded bar we left, drove back across the state and into New Hope and we each had another beer and some very good wings at Triumph brewery. It was a good day, but of course every day is good when you're vacationing from home.
Thanks for reading....We're going to a Trenton Thunder AA baseball game Friday evening.
g
We opted to sleep in rather than get up at an ugodly hour to drive across New Jersey in order to save on the $10 admission to Sandy Hook, which opens at 7:00. I know I'm a cheap bum, but I like to sleep in sometimes. To make it before 7:00 comfortably we would have had to leave around 4:30 a.m. YUCK.
Lambertville is almost directly west of Sandy Hook and on the other side of New Jersey. There are just three main roads to follow ... 518, 522 and 520. The last bit of the ride before we hit Sea Bright is through Rumson, where Janet had me stop at a lemonade stand being operated by Bruce. He was wearing a Journey tour shirt and a John Deere trucker's hat. Actually, throughout the ride we were worried for the clouds seemed more ominous than we expected. But the reports said it would be a beach day and when we left the leafy streets of Rumson and hit Route 36 in Sea Bright, it looked much more promising.
It was a great day at the beach. We arrived around 11:00 and did not leave until 6 p.m. After gettting Janet set up I went for a run. The last marathon I entered started at Sandy Hook and the first 8 miles of the race are lonely, for there are few people in the park at race time. I still like running along the multi use path they have that courses the length of Sandy Hook from the entrance to the Fort Hancock coast guard station at the north end. In all I ran about 5 miles.
Sufficiently sweaty I rejoined Janet and we relaxed in the full sun for the rest of the day, sneaking peeks at the other naked bodies that surrounded us. I had prepared some chicken and had some leftover pineapple salsa and we bought a beer from the beer guy on the beach for quite a good lunch. We went for a long walk along the surf, sometimes walking in the cold water knee deep, though we tactfully avoided going all the way in, unless nature called us! We also tactfully avoided a colleague of Janet's who was down at the southern end of the beach, wearing his trademark denim hat.
As we lolled under the cloudless sky we became painfully aware of several odd personalities that plied Gunnison's Beach. Janet and I have a great time making up knicknames for people. The fellow running the concession stand at the nude beach, his eyes never looking up at the myriad of body types, extra folds and all, was referred to as "beer guy", of course. Behind us, as we slowly revolved our chairs to face the sun arching across the sky, was "Meatloaf", who kept up a constant harangue about everything from trading with the Chinese to the death of Farrah Fawcett...we did not yet know about MJ... His grating voice was as loud as his belly was rotound. Before we rotated our chairs away from him, he stood posing in all his glory, arms akimbo and spewed out his diatribe to his little (but not in girth) clutch of friends. There's something good about the passage of time.
Throughout the day we listened to the bickering of a couple. We called them "Terminator" and "Iced T". He had a military haircut and physique, wore mirrored sunglasses and alternated between yelling at and canoodling with his tattooed and statuesque girlfriend, whose "high maintenance" attitude went well with her "high priced" boobs (or so Janet says). Iced T kept saying she was going to Arizona....see the connection... and Terminator would tell her to go now, loudly! Then they would lapse into a cuddle phase until the next round of complaints. The name "Terminator" replaced "Jarhead" when he said at one point he too hated his job...to which I started muttering to Janet in an Arnold voice that "humans are too easy to kill."
Aside from the varied and typically creepy men walking around trying to either ogle Janet or me, the latter usually adorned with tattooes, piercings and attachments to their nether regions, there was "Banana Man" who gained the name when he left, putting on a yellow t-shirt and a pair of tight-fitting yellow stetchy pants that revealed obscenly every centimeter of his old rickety ass even though he had just been fully naked. There was "Tent Boy" who struggled with a pop up tent, but never entered it, preferring to sit cross legged before it smoking cigarettes like a prostitute before a brothel. There was "The Ghost", a white haired, white skinned man whose color never reddened throughout the day though he lounged in the sun with his younger looking wife.
But the most disturbing character was "The Mushroom" and his companion whom we named "Dick-Girl". Mushroom wore tighty white briefs to the beach under his shorts. He never got fully naked and spent the day wearing just a white-shirt. It made him look like a mental patient looking for the toilet. Had he remained in his folding chair with his blanket wrapped around his head and allowed his "girlfriend" who also never got naked and wore double tops and a demin mini skirt, to writhe before him, he would have just been another weird person at Gunnisons. BUT...he would get up and walk around and stare at people. At one point Janet opened her eyes to see him hovering over her, lasciviously drooling. Now, it is appropriate to "look" at people, either for the "entertainment" or "grotesque" value, but you're supposed to give it a quick once over and not stare. This guy was creepy. His girlfriend was creepy. We thought she was a man, hence the name. But, we realized "Dick-Girl," was not an appropriate moniker for her when they eventually left and she flashed us while tucking in her shirt. The whole afternoon would have become unhinged if not for our ability to find the humor in everything. We laughed and laughed and shook our heads.
We stopped in Red Bank at a brew pub called Basil T's. They make several respectable beers and I had the IPA and a stout. Janet drank a Hefeweizen or wheat beer. The beers were adequate, but the cost of their food was outrageous. After drinking a couple rounds at the crowded bar we left, drove back across the state and into New Hope and we each had another beer and some very good wings at Triumph brewery. It was a good day, but of course every day is good when you're vacationing from home.
Thanks for reading....We're going to a Trenton Thunder AA baseball game Friday evening.
g
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