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This was going to start out as a bad day anyway. The city decided to hold its Medieval Festival in Fort Tryon Park the 28th of Sept regardless of the rain that continued to pour all morning. And since I actually had been looking forward to the event after attending on a whim last year, I decided to deal with the rain.
For most people, rain is an inconvenience. You wear a cap, carry an umbrella and all is well. I'm not one of those people. I never have been. I will reschedule appointments due to rain and even make plans to avoid inclement weather. Rain isn't clean. It's gray. Dirty. Wet. Muddy. You get the idea. But since the fair refused to reschedule on account of inclement weather, I was there trying to find the lady that I bought jewelry from a year ago. Hours of searching later, I realized that she was a no show. Clearly she was one of those rain-hating people. And while I believed, if I'm outside, she should be outside, who am I to get her to leave her home to be surrounded by wet hay and horses.
Exactly. So obviously going home was the next best thing. It would've been fine. We were looking forward to anyplace that was warm and served warm drinks. A flight of wet soaked stone stairs, mud-tracked, a few unwelcomed whiffs of stale horse barns and some time later we get into the elevator to the awaiting subway. Except during our descent, the elevator lurches and stops. A couple of minutes later we realized that we weren't going anywhere. The scene was just like a movie. A hypersensitive elderly lady, a mother of two boys- a child of 7 and an autistic teenager, a nurse with a heavy accent that knew only two volumes- loud and very loud and my friend and I.
We called for help and the operator went to send someone to look for a key and call 911. Nevermind the fact that at this festival there were police cops crawling everywhere. Still 30 min later we got nothing, no word of the impending help and the autistic teenager was yelling and stomping and pounding on the elevator doors as his younger brother burst into tears. The nurse tried to soothe him which didn't help as she was "yelling" words of encouragement as the mother tried to get her son to listen to music. The hypersensitive elderly lady? Anytime the teen got close to her, she hyperventillated and started to scream "Go away! Get away from me!" Lovely. Now where exactly was Keanu Reeves and why isn't he here to save me?
The result? 45 minutes later the FDNY arrived and managed to pry open the elevator doors and through an fire escape staircase, we climbed 12 floors to get out. Only to go back on the elevator to the subway. There is no glass large enough to drink away this incident.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
Couch Coaches & Supernaturalists
You know the type I'm talking about. People that sit on the couch watching a sports game and yelling at the tv screen because clearly they're the ones in charge of determining the best play for the team. Nevermind that the team can't hear the advice or, oh yeah, has a coach that is being paid to coach the team. I'm not one of those types.
The other type- well. That I am. I have zero interest in watching sports. I'm more interested in trying out a sport than actually sitting around and watching it on tv or in a stadium. And with good cause. For any game that I caught on tv (aside from the Olympics), the team I was rooting for lost. I apologize in advance to Federer when he lost that amazing game of Wimbledon to Nadal. Normally I flip through tennis matches or catch up on the scores through the next day's news clips or the paper, but I was drawn to the game while knitting a friend's shawl (the clapotis) that would not end. And of course what happened? Federer lost in the greatest game ever in the history of Tennis. I'm sorry. I should not have been watching. I seem to be a bad jinx when it comes to sports games.
This is my roundabout way of saying, I caused the Mets to nearly lose their game to the Cubs on Sept. 25th. It was unintentional. I decided to go to the game because a bunch of knitters were going for a Stitch n' Pitch game and it was one of the last few games the Mets would play at Shea. I've never been to Shea so I thought now would be a perfect time to go. Except that they started to lose. 6-3. So during the 8th inning, we decided to leave. The rain was getting worse, it was getting colder and the outlook looked bleak for the Mets to regain a lead. No sooner than I had left the stadium that the Mets started to score in a few runs. By the time I got home, they had beat the cubs 7-6. I'm told it was a great game to see. The great 9th inning. But I know, that if I were sitting there, watching the game, that 9th inning would be anything less than great.
I'm the person that jinxes sports games whether on tv or live. You can mock me and tell me it's all in my head and that I actually have no control of any of this- like the weather. But there are others like me and we know the truth. Some of us, by our mere presence, can alter game scores.
The other type- well. That I am. I have zero interest in watching sports. I'm more interested in trying out a sport than actually sitting around and watching it on tv or in a stadium. And with good cause. For any game that I caught on tv (aside from the Olympics), the team I was rooting for lost. I apologize in advance to Federer when he lost that amazing game of Wimbledon to Nadal. Normally I flip through tennis matches or catch up on the scores through the next day's news clips or the paper, but I was drawn to the game while knitting a friend's shawl (the clapotis) that would not end. And of course what happened? Federer lost in the greatest game ever in the history of Tennis. I'm sorry. I should not have been watching. I seem to be a bad jinx when it comes to sports games.
This is my roundabout way of saying, I caused the Mets to nearly lose their game to the Cubs on Sept. 25th. It was unintentional. I decided to go to the game because a bunch of knitters were going for a Stitch n' Pitch game and it was one of the last few games the Mets would play at Shea. I've never been to Shea so I thought now would be a perfect time to go. Except that they started to lose. 6-3. So during the 8th inning, we decided to leave. The rain was getting worse, it was getting colder and the outlook looked bleak for the Mets to regain a lead. No sooner than I had left the stadium that the Mets started to score in a few runs. By the time I got home, they had beat the cubs 7-6. I'm told it was a great game to see. The great 9th inning. But I know, that if I were sitting there, watching the game, that 9th inning would be anything less than great.
I'm the person that jinxes sports games whether on tv or live. You can mock me and tell me it's all in my head and that I actually have no control of any of this- like the weather. But there are others like me and we know the truth. Some of us, by our mere presence, can alter game scores.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Things You Only Learn While Traveling
It's true that every trip you go on is an entirely new adventure and with that comes great advice to be remembered for the next time.
- People are nicer out west. More laid back. Definitely more nice. Something's in the drinking water and that should promptly get fixed.
- Being nice to service people actually pays off. The nicer you are the more freebies and upgrades you get at no cost. (Exception? Circumstance. Like bat pee)
- A hotel bed is never as good as the bed you sleep in at home whether you sleep on a futon, ratty couch or those memory foam beds.
- The GPS is never always right or always wrong. It'll get you there correctly about 90% of the time. The other 10% is its way of trying to figure out what dumbass move you made or why you decided to go in the middle of a national forest with extremely windy roads for "fun."
Always have some sort of schedule and leave room to take the road less traveled. Well. Give yourself time to get lost because honestly the GPS is not God and sometimes you need to stop at a place that says Confusion Hill a place that defies gravity, a remote cherry stand or take a big picture of Snoopy because no other place has a huge statute of Snoopy on a sidewalk corner.
You can put anything in a crepe. I mean anything. I've had ice cream in a crepe as well as a breakfast sandwich served crepe style, proving that some items can be great for savory and sweet. Unlike the waffle cone. Put scrambled eggs and tomato in a waffle cone and tell me how that tastes.
It's a good idea to write down the names of places that had memorable things to make proper recommendations. For example, having experienced the best slice of blackberry pie known to mankind, I will forever have to say, it's at that place. In this tiny city. Ferndale. Cute cafe, outdoor garden/table area. As small as it is, like there isn't a few of those cafes there already.
And sometimes it's just nice knowing that the trip you took was so on point with other interested travelers. Barely a month after I had returned home, I saw a travel article in the New York Times documenting the places they visited in Northern Cali and places that were worth skipping. It's safe to say, I was right on.
Happy Travels.
- People are nicer out west. More laid back. Definitely more nice. Something's in the drinking water and that should promptly get fixed.
- Being nice to service people actually pays off. The nicer you are the more freebies and upgrades you get at no cost. (Exception? Circumstance. Like bat pee)
- A hotel bed is never as good as the bed you sleep in at home whether you sleep on a futon, ratty couch or those memory foam beds.
- The GPS is never always right or always wrong. It'll get you there correctly about 90% of the time. The other 10% is its way of trying to figure out what dumbass move you made or why you decided to go in the middle of a national forest with extremely windy roads for "fun."
Always have some sort of schedule and leave room to take the road less traveled. Well. Give yourself time to get lost because honestly the GPS is not God and sometimes you need to stop at a place that says Confusion Hill a place that defies gravity, a remote cherry stand or take a big picture of Snoopy because no other place has a huge statute of Snoopy on a sidewalk corner.
You can put anything in a crepe. I mean anything. I've had ice cream in a crepe as well as a breakfast sandwich served crepe style, proving that some items can be great for savory and sweet. Unlike the waffle cone. Put scrambled eggs and tomato in a waffle cone and tell me how that tastes.
It's a good idea to write down the names of places that had memorable things to make proper recommendations. For example, having experienced the best slice of blackberry pie known to mankind, I will forever have to say, it's at that place. In this tiny city. Ferndale. Cute cafe, outdoor garden/table area. As small as it is, like there isn't a few of those cafes there already.
And sometimes it's just nice knowing that the trip you took was so on point with other interested travelers. Barely a month after I had returned home, I saw a travel article in the New York Times documenting the places they visited in Northern Cali and places that were worth skipping. It's safe to say, I was right on.
Happy Travels.
Monday, September 22, 2008
More roads . . . and then Greece?
So the result? I found it. Sterling Vineyards. After parking the car in a lucky spot close to the booth, we surveyed the scene. The parking lot? Very well landscaped cement and potted flowers and ferns. Then the truth sank in. It's a $20 ride for a 5 minute cable car ride to get to a beautiful white winery that had a great view, but they give you "free wine tastings". I recommend going there on a weekday if you'd like to see people at work, just like visiting the Jelly Belly Factory may seem a bit empty on weekends or after hours. Still, with 5 tastings sprinkled around its estate and with picture perfect weather, it was hard to dislike it even with a steep tasting fee.
That's when I cracked. I've visited plenty of wineries throughout California from the Del Grotto Caves where I've tasted some 96 pointers to wineries that sold bottled jungle juice that should only be served at frat parties and campfires. Still I soldiered on, waiting for that perfect bottle of absolute bliss. It's like the perfect pair of shoes. You have vague ideas of what it should be, but in the end, the only way to know that it is the right one is when you see it and walk a few steps. So I was looking for the perfect bottle. Something worthy for me to find a way to pack in my already stuffed suitcase to brave the long trip home.
Did I find it? Absolutely. Malvasia Bianca. I don't like white wine and stay away from rieslings since I find them too sweet, but this? With tropical flavors and a hint of mango, mild acidic to cut the sweetness from the fruit was a nice white wine that smelled even more amazing than it tasted. 2 bottles came home with me and it's a shame that you can't find this in stores. Either way, I found my liquid gold in a remote corner of Calistoga.
There are a lot of factors that can lead to a good wine. The growing season of the grapes that year, the types of barrels used, place of manufacture of the barrels, the yeast used, etc. Go on a few wine tours and the entire picture starts to unfold. However, what often gets neglected is that for many, the reason why some of us gravitate toward one versus the other can be purely based on experience or memory triggers. For me, it will always be the mango and tropical notes of the Malvasia Bianca from Sterling. So much so, that a month after the trip all I was searching for was orange yarn that had the perfect color of a ripe mango.
Did I find it? No. But now I own two bottles of white wine bliss. The lesson? Long winding roads, forests, clueless locals and cherry stands are all things to be endured in the search for Greece in Calistoga.
That's when I cracked. I've visited plenty of wineries throughout California from the Del Grotto Caves where I've tasted some 96 pointers to wineries that sold bottled jungle juice that should only be served at frat parties and campfires. Still I soldiered on, waiting for that perfect bottle of absolute bliss. It's like the perfect pair of shoes. You have vague ideas of what it should be, but in the end, the only way to know that it is the right one is when you see it and walk a few steps. So I was looking for the perfect bottle. Something worthy for me to find a way to pack in my already stuffed suitcase to brave the long trip home.
Did I find it? Absolutely. Malvasia Bianca. I don't like white wine and stay away from rieslings since I find them too sweet, but this? With tropical flavors and a hint of mango, mild acidic to cut the sweetness from the fruit was a nice white wine that smelled even more amazing than it tasted. 2 bottles came home with me and it's a shame that you can't find this in stores. Either way, I found my liquid gold in a remote corner of Calistoga.
There are a lot of factors that can lead to a good wine. The growing season of the grapes that year, the types of barrels used, place of manufacture of the barrels, the yeast used, etc. Go on a few wine tours and the entire picture starts to unfold. However, what often gets neglected is that for many, the reason why some of us gravitate toward one versus the other can be purely based on experience or memory triggers. For me, it will always be the mango and tropical notes of the Malvasia Bianca from Sterling. So much so, that a month after the trip all I was searching for was orange yarn that had the perfect color of a ripe mango.
Did I find it? No. But now I own two bottles of white wine bliss. The lesson? Long winding roads, forests, clueless locals and cherry stands are all things to be endured in the search for Greece in Calistoga.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Got Lost... Found a Cherry Stand and a Forest?
Leaving nature never felt so exciting and liberating. Clearly the guy who wrote about nature being so free and full of clean air, didn't understand the concept that some of us lived perfectly happy lives void of the problems Mother Nature brought.
Armed with a stack of brochures that I've collected since starting the trip, it was time to weed through it. The dreams of visiting Oregon and central California were quickly tossed into a recycling bin as were all the other promising sights that the Redwoods National Forest and Humboldt County offered. It was time to return to the land of the living, and by that, I mean wine.
Yes. If you're going to go through Napa, you must visit at least one vineyard. So this time, I decided to venture through the northern part and found myself in Greece by way of Calistoga. The picture of the winery honestly looked like a Greek monastery set on the high cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. It was even more intriguing to know that it took a 5 minute cable car ride just to get the winery. Wait, Greek Monastery? Wine tasting? Cable Car ride? I'm sold. Sterling Vineyards here I come.
Well. Not so much really. As it turns out, this place was far. And I mean far. It was tucked in a remote corner past a lot of other wineries, through miles and miles of winding roads and just when I was about to give up, even more roads and hills of brown grasses and fields appeared along with trucks of cherry stands from local farmers. Clearly there was a boon in the cherry crop that week. Since the only hope of getting there was through the GPS, the same GPS that was going to send me into the ocean from Hwy 101 in Humboldt County just a few days ago, we decided to get some cherries for the ride to our doom. Even the lovely lady selling her baskets of fruit added, "Are you sure you're going to a winery? And not a petrified forest? There's only the forest up that way."
Yes this is exactly what I needed to hear. Past the forest, through more winding roads hoping to see fields of grapes again. At this point, I wondered if maybe the GPS was just confused and was just looking for the longest way back to San Francisco. Either way, there was no other thing to do but to keep going forward.
Armed with a stack of brochures that I've collected since starting the trip, it was time to weed through it. The dreams of visiting Oregon and central California were quickly tossed into a recycling bin as were all the other promising sights that the Redwoods National Forest and Humboldt County offered. It was time to return to the land of the living, and by that, I mean wine.
Yes. If you're going to go through Napa, you must visit at least one vineyard. So this time, I decided to venture through the northern part and found myself in Greece by way of Calistoga. The picture of the winery honestly looked like a Greek monastery set on the high cliff overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. It was even more intriguing to know that it took a 5 minute cable car ride just to get the winery. Wait, Greek Monastery? Wine tasting? Cable Car ride? I'm sold. Sterling Vineyards here I come.
Well. Not so much really. As it turns out, this place was far. And I mean far. It was tucked in a remote corner past a lot of other wineries, through miles and miles of winding roads and just when I was about to give up, even more roads and hills of brown grasses and fields appeared along with trucks of cherry stands from local farmers. Clearly there was a boon in the cherry crop that week. Since the only hope of getting there was through the GPS, the same GPS that was going to send me into the ocean from Hwy 101 in Humboldt County just a few days ago, we decided to get some cherries for the ride to our doom. Even the lovely lady selling her baskets of fruit added, "Are you sure you're going to a winery? And not a petrified forest? There's only the forest up that way."
Yes this is exactly what I needed to hear. Past the forest, through more winding roads hoping to see fields of grapes again. At this point, I wondered if maybe the GPS was just confused and was just looking for the longest way back to San Francisco. Either way, there was no other thing to do but to keep going forward.
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