You’re right, Ray, no human being would stack books like this

The purpose of staying in Stamford, CT should be quite obvious, but I will state it forthwith. It was massively cheaper than staying Manhattan. Through Hotwire, we booked three nights for less than one night in Manhattan. The problem, and this one is all on me, is that we only booked for three nights, when we needed four. I figured we’d just add a fourth night, negative perspiration.

Perspiration. When you book through a third party vendor, like hotwire, it is much more difficult to add another night in your hotel. To make a long story much shorter, here were our options. 1.) Pay the walk-up rate. 2.) Roll the dice to see if hotwire can book you another night in your same hotel. 3.) Go through hotwire and just change hotels.

1.) Our rate was $60. The walk-up rate was $300. Eep!
2.) Hotwire was not able to get us back in the same hotel.
3.) We switched hotels Monday. No big whoop.

We availed ourselves of the fine public transportation system in and around New York City. It was roughly a 30 minute train ride into Midtown. We arrived at Grand Central Station. It was exactly like walking into a movie.

We walked out onto 42nd Street, and took a moment to get our bearings. This was surprisingly easy. I was surprised at how much New York felt like Chicago. It’s a big city, with a lot of people and it’s laid out on a grid. It was very easy to figure out which way was which.

Grand Central is about two blocks from the main branch of the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue. Where ten people witnessed a free floating full torsoe vaporous aparition. It blew books off shelves from twenty feet away and scared the socks off some poor librarian. (Not Laura)

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This was a day destined to be spent afoot. We walked from 42nd and 5th to 20th Street, taking in the sites and photographing the tall buildings. For those familiar with Chicago, think about walking from 42nd to 20th streets. For those not familiar with Chicago that walk would take multiple hours. In New York it took about 30 minutes. For as big a city as New York is, geographically, it’s not that big, and one block is about 1/3 as long as a block in Chicago. It was a great day, and a nice walk.

We went to the Theodore Roosevelt Museum.Bring our Presidential homes total to three for this trip. It was a nice museum with an 18 year old tour guide. The artifacts were really cool, including the shirt, speech and glasses case that were in his breast pocket when he was shot while giving a speech in Milwaulkie. The speech and case taking the brunt of the bullet. He gave a 90 minute speech after catching the bullet before going ot the hositpal for treatment. Teddy was FIERCE!!

We then walked up 9th Avenue to 39th street to go to a flee markey in Hell’s Kitchen. one guess whose part of the trip this was.

Our plan was to walk back to the library so was could go in, as it was closed when we arrived earlier in the day. There was a considerable construction on both 40th and 41st, so we walked up to 42nd, thinking we’ll just walk down 42nd to 5th and we’ll be right there. No problem.

Would anyone like to guess what lies between 42nd and 9th and 42nd and 5th?

Dsc01486_4This is me, pointing to my (and Michael Scott’s) favorite New York Pizza Place.

That’s right Times Square. We accidentally walked into Times Square. It was pure madness. Lots of tourists, lots of stores, lots of lights.

It was Picadilly Circus on crack.

Broadway, north of 42nd was blocked off to traffic for a giant flee market. I don’t know if this is normal for a Saturday or just something that happened to be going on that weekend, but it was a really crowded version of every street festival in Chicago.

We abandoned our plans to go to the library and walked north toward Central Park. We zigged to the east and walked to the Apple Store of 5th Avenue first. I wanted to see if I could get my iphone headphones replaced. That was pure folly. It was way to crowded for that type of small request. We gave up and walked across the street into Central Park.

After a directionally challenged attempt to walk from East to West across Central Park, where we walked East to sort of the middle, then South back to 52nd, we walked around to Central Park West and Spook Central.

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This is the point in our story where I do a small commercial for the iphone.

When walking around a city you don’t know, and you have an iphone, you get to avoid being the tourists on the street corner holding a huge map out in front of you, turning it right and left trying to figure out where you are and where you are going. All you have to do is hold your phone in your hand, pull up the map feature and you’re good to go. We put in addresses, names of places, etc. and it would map out directions from where we were standing. We also used it in the following scenario.

We walked up to the Dakota and into Central Park so we could see Strawberry Fields. It was a great experience for me, both as a Beatles fan and as someone who desperately needed to sit down in the shade for 20 minutes.

While we were sitting there we caught a whif of Chinesse food in the air. And, not possessing the same olfactory abilities as Scooby Doo we could not simply follow the smell to its source. We pulled out the trusty iphone, typed Chinese Food into the search box, and were promptyly shown 5 or 6 restaurants in our vacinity. We chose one and walked there for dinner.

It was great. We never would have found this place on our own. YAY iphone!!!

According to Laura’s pre-trip internet research there was a restaurant where John and Yoko used to hang out. We walked to that address only to find out that it hand closed the previous year. Damn, the luck.

At this point our fatigue set in pretty fierce. We walked the thirty blocks South to Grand Central, for our ride back to the hotel. Our first day in New York was a lot of fun andc very tiring. It set the tone for the rest of our time in the Big Apricot.

Walking. Seeing. Eating. Fun.

Marriage via I-91

By my current standards of roughly one post per month, this qualifies as more frequent posting.

The next day of our vacation, the day of leaving Boston, is the perfect example of what it means to vacation as a married couple.

The plan for the day was to travel from Boston to Stamford, CT, which would be our base of operations for the next three days, via the scenic route (read, the longest way we could find). We drove to Amherst, MA, following the directions of my trusty GPS. We got there with no difficulty, but I am now of the opinion that there must have been another way to get there that was at least an hour quicker than the route we took, but not knowing Amherst, MA from a hole in the ground, I didn’t think to question it at the time.

The purpose of the Amherst trip was to visit the Emily Dickinson Museum. As an aside, as we sat in a restaurant about a block from Boston Common the night before, we were discussing Emily Dickinson. Laura started to be surprised and offended that I had not read Emily Dickinson. My contention was that, as I am male, there was no reason in the world to be surprised that I had not read her. In an effort to bolster my point, I turned to the two women who were sitting next to us. They were of college age and, as I had been eavesdropping on their conversation for the entire meal, I can say with fare amount of certainty that they were students in one of the 45,000 universities in Boston.

"Excuse me," said I, "but out of the two of us, which would you assume had read Emily Dickinson?"

"Oh, I’d say that’s more of a girl book." answered one of our news friends.

She also mentioned that she was an English Lit major.

I don’t know which of the 45,000 she attends, but she is not getting her money’s worth if she thinks Emily Dickinson is a book.

We arrived in Amherst and took the tour, where we saw something that Emily Dickinson never saw. The OUTSIDE of her house! Boom! Reclusive poet joke. DAMN!!!!

Laura loved it and, in the week hence, has read an Emily Dickinson biography and used her recipe for gingerbread to tempt me into eating sweets. Foul 19th century recluse!

We loaded up the car with our bodies and new knowledge and set off toward Stamford. As we were driving through Massachusetts, we saw a sign that said, "Basketball Hall of Fame Next Exit." It had not occurred to me to visit there, as I had no idea we would be driving past Springfield, but here we were. So we stopped.

Our excitement to disinterest ratio had inverted in the distance between Amherst and Springfield. We only had about 30 minutes to spend there before it closed, but it was worth the visit. I don’t know that I’d make a specific trip to Springfield, MA just for that, but there was a Cold Stone Creamery in the same building so that should add to the draw of Springfield a little bit.

Our check-in in Stamford was much less interesting than our previous experience in Boston had been, but it struck me that night, how perfect this day was as an example of the compromises of marriage. Each of agreed to do something we had little to no interest in doing, so that the other could do something they were extremely interested in.

For that reason alone, it was a great day.

Gang Aft Agley

I am once again making the pledge to myself (and to you, teaming masses) to blog more regularly. To that end, this is what we did on our summer vacation (part 1)

Last Wednesday we flew from Chicago to Providence, Rhode Island, primarily because I’ve always wanted to visit the city that is my Alma Mater’s namesake, but also because we got a good price on air fare. The plan for the trip was to drive up to Boston for a two night stay in whatever 3.5 star hotel Hotwire chose for us, the drive through Massachussettes, seeing the sites, only to arrive at another hotel d’Hotwire in Stamford, CT, where we would depart each of three mornings, via train, to New York City. The last day of our trip was to be sent driving through Connecticut, seeing coastal towns and houses we will never be able to afford, en route to Providence for our return flight.

Here are the highlights of Boston.

We picked up our rental car at the aiport, a Mitsubishi Eclipse, which has a tremendous combination of features. First it is incredibly low to the ground, making th process of getting into it the equivalent of sitting down into an old, fold-out lawn chair whose plastic seat-defining straps have been fatigued by countless years of being abused sat-in by your morbidly obese uncle to the point where they sag to within an inch of the ground. It also has a ceiling that is just slightly too low for a man of six feet and two inches. The proximity of the roof to my head had the same effect as rubbing a balloon against my head. The Eclipse is, however, aptly named. The car itself blocks out almost all point of visual sensory input. There are mirrors in all the normal places, but there are other parts of the car that have been strategically placed to make all of these mirrors useless, unless you want to see the spoiler.

We drove to Quincy, MA to see the museum and birthplaces of both John Adams and John Quincy Adams. This was great. The town of Quincy is small and quaintly New England and the museum was fantastic. The guide was knowledgeable and articulate and because the houses remained in the family and were the homes for 4 generations of Adams’s until the 1920’s roughly 75% of the artifacts in the house are original, not just to the period, but to the family themselves. For fans of U.S. History I can’t recommend this highly enough.

We proceeded to Boston, where we drove around in great looping, honking circles. I took my GPS with me and was using it, but Boston was laid out on a dare and irrascible pranksters from one or more of the local universities have stolen a number of the street signs. Even with my GPS we had tremendous difficulty finding our way to a seafood resaurant. We ate with Japanese business men to our right, expense count in full effect, and a middle aged couple to our right whose Salmon was undercooked. They mentioned this and then spent the next 30 minutes waiting for new food to be brought to them. They were pretty hot on the deal, and it seemed to me that they still had to pay a bill at the end of the meal. That doesn’t sound like to good a deal for them, then.

We ended the day by checking into our hotel. We pulled into the garage, noting the prices posted, $10 for eight hours, $2 for each additional hour, $40 for over 24 hours, $25 for hotel guests. We walked up to the front desk and were met by the least pleasant front desk worker I’ve ever encountered. We were told that we were in a twin suite (two twin beds). They had some ‘splainin’ to do.

This is apparently one of the downsides to third party booking. Not much to be done, but Ms. Rude Latvia 2008 more or less told us to suck on it and like it. She then informed us that we would be charged $25 for the garage.

I pointed out that this is not what the sign says. If we parked there over night, for roughly 10 hours and then drove around for the day, according to their sign this should only cost us $14. My attempts at logic and reading were roundly defeated by her attempts at rudeness and quoting the policy. We were told we could choose to go find parking somewhere else (her tone suggested we should look up our own asses for these parking spaces. In her defense, we were more likely to find it there than on any street nearby). The manager came out and backed up her dogmatic stance. His point was that this had always been the policy and they had just put up some new signs. Possibly the signs are to blame.

Not wanting to get into a shouting match in the hotel lobby I agreed that possibly their written notices of their price structure were in fact incorrect and I should be held to their screw job policies. We went to bed, my wallet lighter and my ass slightly sore.

As we were unwinding for the night, I turned on the news to see just how much of the city had been burned down/looted the previous night when the Celtics (who Laura insists on calling the Kel-tics) won the NBA championship. It was at this point that I learned that the celebratory parade was scheduled for  Thursday, the only day we were going to spend in Boston, and that the parade would be going from the Garden, past Boston Common and down to somewhere else. The map below will show you the route.

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The only thing we were going to do in Boston was to walk the Freedom Trail, which begins at Boston Common. Celtics fans or not, we were going to be right in the middle of the parade route, with no hope of avoiding it.

We decided to embrace it.

For all my lack of interest in a Celtics championship, the parade was a lot of fun. The city was truly taken by the whole affair. There was a dentist’s office overlooking the parade route. He stopped his procedure as the parade went by.

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The parade ended. We walked. We ate. We walked some more. I have now been to Boston. I was not overly impressed. I’m glad I went. I doubt I’ll return.

Cambridge is nice. More later.

Last Summer

I came across this article on Sky News today. It commemorates the hottest July Day ever in Britain. We were there that week on our honeymoon. It was brutal.

That Wednesday was the day we discovered that, mercifully, the British Library is air conditioned, unlike almost all of London. We spent over two hours there looking at very old books and not sweating.

It’s nice to have such ready access to news stories from a very special time. Despite the heat, it was pretty much the best trip I’ve ever taken. And now that it’s been almost a year since we were on our honeymoon, it’s even more fun to be able to look back and see what it was like to be there then.

You should see the chamber maids

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This photo is of the gigantic zit on the side of my head. Normally, not worth posting, but because of it I had a very helpful conversation with a bellman at our hotel in Miami.

"How was your day today, sir?"
"Good. Hot."
"Yes, it’s hot. You have a bug bite on your head."
"Yeah, it’s a pimple."
"IT’S BIIIIIG."
"Thank you. I know."

I can’t recall if I tipped him for that or not, but I rather think, not.

Here’s what I did Saturday night

Slot Machines + Roulette + craps + lots of smoking Midwesterners = Casino

You know what’s missing in that equation? Poker Room. You want to know how I know that? Well I drove to two of them last night. One in Elgin. One in Joliet. One guess why I was trying to go there. That’s right. To play poker. I drove out to Elgin last night as it was the closest casino to my house. No poker room. So, I went back to the car, put the address of the one in Joliet into my GPS and got back on the road.

After sitting through the flaming-car-induced parking lot that was I-55 I finally got to Harrah’s in Joliet only to discover that my entire night, just about 3 hours of driving at this point, was all nothing. No poker room there either.

Here’s the part where I should have called ahead to ask, and I am well aware of my part in the way this evening played out, but hamburgers! How do you have a casino with no poker room? When I finally got home, I looked on these websites, and none of them say anything about poker, one way or another. To my mind the flashing banner across the top of each of these websites should read WE DON’T HAVE A POKER ROOM!!!!!!!!

Through this painful experience, I did learn of three different casinos in the area that do have poker rooms, so this little episode will not have a sequel, but sweet holy god was that frustrating.

What happens in Vegas…

… Ends up on this blog. At least when I go there with my wife.

I had a few fantastic conversations this past weekend in Las Vegas. They could have happened anywhere and have pretty much nothing to do with being in Vegas, but this is where I was when I met these people.

As part of my Vegas ritual, doing something two times in a row makes it a ritual, we went to the In ‘N Out Burger. And while I’ll admit there are some good burgers there, I was in GI distress for pretty much the rest of that day. Not the point. We were sitting there eating next to this other couple from Texas. The "him" in this couple reminded me a great deal of my uncle Pat.  We talked about the normal vacation stuff, where you’re from, what brings you to town, all of this stuff. We tell him the reason for the visit to the In N’ Out is 100% Lebowski related. He doesn’t react as though he’s seen the movie, which is a shame, but based on the following conversation is probably better for him.

Texas Uncle Pat: "That’s a pretty good reason to eat somewhere."
Laura: "My dad took us to the diner from the Blues Brothers."
TUP: "I didn’t like that one. Too much cursing (my clue that he would not like the Big Lebowski). I did like the Blues Brothers 2000 (my clue that he would not like anything funny).
Me: "The music is really good in both, but yeah, there’s a lot of cursing in original."
TUP: "You know the show the Munsters?"
Laura doesn’t hear what he says and looks confused so I do my Herman Munster impression. He goes on to tell us about this guy in a town near his who built a 1313 Mocking Bird Lane replica and how they open it up to tourists, etc.

Any Munster’s reference brings to my mind Apu’s question to Butch Patrick "If your mother was a vampire, and your father was a Frankenstein, why are you a wolfman?"

I say this to Laura and TUP laughs, and says

"I never thought of that. That is a really good point. I’ll never be able to watch that show again without thinking of that."

I cited my source for the line so as not to take undue credit.

So, the end result of this story is I went to eat a movie related hamburger and ended up ruining the Munsters for some poor guy from Texas.

Vegas is awesome!

Let me tell you about Japan

You know what Japan is like? I’ll tell ya.

1st)  My new GPS works really well there. Got me right to the airport. No problem
2nd) People there may try to rob you using a nail file, but fear not, they are very easy to disarm, and when you do, most around you will be dumbstruck with awe.
3rd) Everyone there speaks perfect English
4th) The flight from there to Chicago takes about 4 hours, but seems to be almost instantaneous.
5th) They have very good sub sandwiches and they keep well on the flight home.

These things are all true. According to the dream I had right before I woke up this morning.

Indiana Universe

Pop Culture. Sports. Things.