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.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
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/
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