and so it begins

So...what does your favorite Vacations From Home Team do on the first free Sunday of the year? They go to Reading, PA. Now, you may ask why, you may ask what the hell is in Reading? And, let me tell you that when the day unfolded I was questioning the choice as well...

We started the day at the Sunshine Cafe in Royersford, PA, which is already on the edge of Pennsyltucky and after enduring the gap-toothed smiles gathered at the counter we decided to delve into the deepest darkest regions of the glorious commonwealth that is so close and yet so very different from my home state of New Jersey.

I was actually suprised to learn that from the loins of Reading sprang John Updike and that the "Rabbit" series of novels had fictionalized names of the sprawling burg and it's environs. But, no, that wasn't the reason we decided to drive out there. And, no, it wasn't to tour First Energy Stadium. home of the double-A affiliate of the Philadelphia Phillies, The R-Phils, where a friend of mine played for the club back in the ahem, dark ages. No, we went to see the outlets shops that is evidently the city's main tourist attraction. We weren't in the mood to shop, but figured it was worth the visit. After many wrong turns, for we came into the town a different way than Janet was used to, we finally found the VF shopping area. It is a complex of renovated factory buildings converted into stores. So, with the day blustery and rainy we shuffled through a couple of the stores in the blue and red factory buildings just to say we were there. We looked for a Phillies t-shirt for Janet, but found nothing she liked and then lifting our nose at the Lingerie Tent and the kettle korn stand, we headed for a mysterious site that looms over the city atop Mount Penn. It is a Japanese Pagoda. Janet had talked about it all the way to Reading and there it was high high high up looking majestic and quite out of place in Pennsylbama.

According to Leslie, who once hailed from the city, (readers of this blog may recall she did a wonderful and true imitation of all 3 members of the Stooges last summer) says the Pagoda and the immediate area is the place to go drinking. It certainly is a beautiful place to visit and the Duryea Drive and Skyline Drive that climbs up the mountain is quite the excursion. Named after Charles Duryea, the owner of the Duryea Power Company, an early car manufacturer, technicians would test each manufactured car on the hilly roads and would only sell those that made it.

Well we twisted up the road, rising out of the creaky streets and delapitated buildings that are more the norm for Reading and entered the rustic area of Mount Penn rather quickly. Eventually we arrived to marvel at this striking Pagoda as the bracing winds buffeted this peak. I had been to Japan a few times over the years and this very authentic. But, as I leaned into the wind and looked at the curving tiers of this majestic building a nagging thought came to me....

WHY?

Was there a sizeable Japanese population in Reading, Pennsylvania? No...

The baseball team wasn't called the Reading Pagodas...

There are no Japanese restaurants in Reading, although I am sure there are a few chinese take out joints, though we were unwilling to lurk about in search of an egg roll.

But here, rising proudly atop this mountain in the middle of Pennsyltucky was a Pagoda. They are often temples associated with the Buddist religion, and usually erected over the remains of a holy man or a king and to house relics and holy writings. But this enigmatic structure was not built with any religious intent and the only relics inside were the elderly women who ran the hot dog stand and gift booth.

We learned the history of the place from a little piece of paper stuck in the window.

Around the 1900's this guy was attempting to quarry the mountain, but the residents of Reading stopped him because it would ruin the view. So, after seeing a picture of a pagoda from the Philippines he decided to build this pagoda as a luxury hotel. Poor planning or stupidity followed soon after, as this fellow could not get a liquor license from the city. The building was never utilized as a luxury resort and it went into forclosure with a bank. Eventually it fell into the hands of another citizen who eventually donated it to Reading. The town used its location as a way of transmitting morse code signals for firemen and news to the citizens. It was renovated in the 60's through donations and it remains a MUST stop in Reading, despite it's boring history.

Well, the place smelt of greasy burnt hot dogs and acidic coffee. The moldering ladies were pleasant and happy to see us as they presided over the array of pins and kites and commemorative plates in the display counter. We opted for coffee and sat on couches as we watched a number of people pay their dollar to climb all the stairs to the top, our enthusiasm having waned with the ho hum history of the place. Still it was a place to visit and we were pleased. The view is worth the trek, even if it's only Reading.

On the way back to Janet's we followed signs to the homestead of Daniel Boone. He was born not far from Reading and we drove through the idyllic grounds and did a quick walk through of the museum, making sure we did not make eye contact with the volunteers dressed in period costumes on the edge of their chairs waiting to give us a tour. We didn't stay long; Janet inflamed them by singing the theme song to Davey Crockett.... and we hightailed it back to Collegeville...and dinner.

Being from New Jersey, anything across the Delaware is rural, but I have since discovered that west of Route 113 is where the real Pennsyltucky begins.

So it begins.... another season of Vacations From Home. Sadly I haven't won the lottery, or at least enough of it to keep me in airline tickets, so we shall continue this haphazard sojurn through the area as cheaply as we can. Hope you can find some nugget of direction, some idea for a trip when the money is tight. It's certainly nice seeing the places that are nearer to home. One usually neglects what is in their own backyards. I just wish my backyard was on the north shore of Oahu.

If you have ideas for future trips for your favorite Vacations From Home team you can write me:
Greg.Dunaj@yahoo.com
You could also donate some frequent flyer miles to the cause.

love
g

snow days

You know... I've had enough of snow. We have been hit with three major storms in the month of February and have spent many days sitting by the fire smoking cigars and sipping scotch. I guess it's a good thing I have a four wheeler, I don't even shovel my driveway. I used to cross country ski alot and when this sort of weather would hit, I'd be out there. There are enough miles on the towpath that runs along the Delaware that I could go out for miles and miles. Not inspired enough I suppose.

reunion reunion

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.

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....

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)

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

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!