Christmas Spectacular Security

The day after Christmas I went into Manhattan with a hacking cough and a drippy cold. That was all ok though because obviously I was going to be wowed with some "spectacular" Christmas cheer. Not just any for that matter - The Radio City Christmas Spectacular.

As the cool droplets of December rain drifted idly toward my face I grabbed at the corners of my black lumberjack hat and stared up at the vast letters reading a resounding Radio City Music Hall. Ahhh, the history, ahhh the glizt, ahhh Christmas.

I was willing to forget that I had spent the last few days sweating and sick as I walked in the procession and thrust forth the golden ticket to release me into the double doors of dancing Santa's and kicking Rockettes. Just as I was about to enter the lobby a disgruntled security man stopped me with a blunt stick and bag check. I passed that with flying colors....until....until he spotted the camera case. Now-everyone knows that anyone can take pictures in the spectacular, it's a tourist attraction. The amount of flashing lights in that show would make any Broadway performer roll their eyes fifty times in even succession. In this instance I was informed that SLR camera's are not allowed in the theater. What???

I am escorted to a tin cabinet that looks like it has been living in a government office for twenty-five years that anyone could break into with a blunt paperweight and a pinch of intuition. Begrudgingly I handed the device over staring forlornly. When I walked in the first action I witnessed was a man taking a picture in the lobby with his SLR camera!

I was outraged. Why could he hold on to his camera and I couldn't? What? Are they concerned that I'm going to take perfect photo's of the teddy bear nutcracker and sell them illegally in a program that I create for my own profit. Come on. Please. Who even has the time for that? Who would even buy that.

Let's just say-

I got the camera back. It sat next to my feet during the entire show. However, I was massively tempted to take at least twelve pictures of the live nativity. I did not.

Come on though Radio City. With terrorists attempting to detonate bombs in cross Atlantic flights do we really need to focus on who's taking SLR camera's into Christmas Spectaculars.

Just sayin'.

Winter Trees

The winter is finally here. After an October, November, and early December of unseasonable warmth the staggering chill has spliced through the air and straight into the bones of unwitting citizens.

Even after all of this warmth still people aren't on board with "climate change." In fact-people put it in quotes....like that. "Climate change."

Maybe it would help it we all put this in quotes:

"sixty degree weather in November is not appropriate for the east coast."

Lord Of The Flies

The pink one is ruling the roost.....obviously.

A Turkey Is A Turkey Is A Turkey

Instead of huddling into a crowded living area and holding my hands out in Dickensian fashion toward a blazing fire with my family on Thanksgiving-we defy tradition and go out to eat.

Is this a product of the deconstruction of the American Family or mayhaps it all dwells in the idea that sometimes a group of related individuals are just all too tired to cook.

This fancy chandelier hung above my head while I picked at an array of interesting dishes none of which the pilgrims would have chowed down on. In between bites of my Cajun rice and duck pate I noticed one distinct detail was missing. Turkey! I did not have one bite of turkey on Thanksgiving and I didn't feel the need to get up and have some carved for me either from the buffet counter. I know that little kids grow out of believing in Santa Claus but is it possible to be over Thanksgiving?

In the midst of my tired eyes glaring at the Christmas tree set-up in the lobby the holiday season suddenly seemed so present and simultaneously so far away. As a pair of mismatched women took nearly sixty pictures with disposable cameras I attempted to get one and the edgy lady snapped "we just want to finish the roll, can we finish the roll please." No compunction, no kindness, no thankfulness.

Just stuffed squeaky wheel getting the grease. At least the chandelier was fetching.

Larimer Square

In the city of Denver there is a lovely little district titled LoDo which is the trendy way of saying Downtown Denver. Larimer Square is a stop off the free bus that traverses the 16th street mall continuously throughout the course of the day.

A little subsection of Larimer is Writer's Square with adorable cheese shops and The Rocky Mountain Chocolate Company. I had the pleasure of experiencing one of their unbelievable candied apples dripping in peanut butter drizzle, Reese's pieces, and a chocolate concoction that is indescribable.

Being Halloween-costumes were also out in full swing. The morning introduced me to two gorillas wearing tie dyed t-shirts. Noon time escorted in a cavalcade of witches and cat ears. By evening ghouls and goblins galore along with some novelty out-fits such as a massacred ballerina, the genie from Aladin, a girl with a flip-flop on her head which I explained away as debri, and a wide array of different takes on the classic Mario Brother's Luigi out-fit.

Why Luigi? Why not Mario? Granted-I've always been a sucker for the underdog when it comes to groups of people. I ardently supported Mike from the Monkees (the one with the green hat.) See, I bet you all didn't even know who he was. So, why not Luigi. Why not.

Out-side the candy company was a large, stuffed, massively adorable homeless zorro bear. I wanted to hug him but I wasn't sure how long he'd been out-side or for that matter if he was carrying the swine.

Long story short, if you ever do Denver-when you're done at Estes Park, Red Rocks, Central City, go to LoDo for some fine dining and socialization and hug the homeless bear: at your own risk.

Art Contest

The Denver Art Museum was the one tourist attraction that I visited while I was in the city of Denver. It was massive and confusing.

Finding the exhibits was the hardest part. It seemed that they were all across some bridge that was clearly out-lined in the map.

However, they did challenge me to an art challenge. And...when I am presented with an art challenge I have to take it.

I was asked to create my interpretation of this painting.

So I took the colored pencils out of the receptacle and I went to work. My head bowed in a serious artistic tone. Pretending at Picasso I struggled toward my ultimate goal.

Above right is the end result. Do you see a likeness? After my day of extreme artistry I stopped and paused to reflect upon my day of drawing and staring and art and slow paced walking.

Staring briefly into the sun I squinted my eyes to the tune of a camera lens and slowly said goodbye to my brief cultural interlude

.

An Unexpected Mountain Adventure

Unfortunately, I have gone to Colorado. It was under less then perfect circumstances and I journeyed there during one of the most unlikely snow storms in October Denver weather history. I somehow made it-and made it back in one piece.

In the midst of it all: I have seen the mountains. Majestic and startling in their post storm white sheen, they possess an unlikely aura of perfection.

And somehow in the midst of all of the mountains and the blue sky-it seemed peaceful.

To The Land

I have been to the world, and since I have traveled to THE LAND. Disneyland to be exact. The land of a thousand ears and twice as many theme hats.

The castle is smaller and The Haunted Mansion is in an area that is a slice of life straight out of The Big Easy. Otherwise it felt just like what I had known.

Something else I learned is NEVER express out loud how anything is different from Disney World. You will find that California residents are extremely loyal to the original house of mouse and understandably so.

No matter which coast you're on-I think we can all agree that it is indeed "the happiest place on earth." Or at least "the happiest place on earth when the lines aren't long and the children are smiling and not mid-day cranky and when the weather is nice and over-priced merchandise is handed out for free on main street for a special event."

Pumpkin Time!

The best time of the year is finally here....

Pumpkin time.

Look at the cavalier rendition of a pumpkin sale.

Which item on the table does not belong?

Everything Looks Better Sepia Toned

Everything looks better sepia toned-as though it has a secret or was found in a trunk in an attic that was lost in 1890.

The Animals Are Going Crackers

As a child my summer would be incomplete without a visit to The Catskill Game Farm. For this very reason I was horrified when I found out a few years ago that this prestigious and well-loved zoo was going to close. It was one of the only zoos where the animals were still close enough to see them. You would walk around with animal crackers-feel the slimy tongue of a camel reaching for the treat. Before you could traverse the main area you were escorted to go through the petting zoo which was almost like hazing.

In the babies section-anyone who dared to buy a bottle and trudge through would be accosted by a hoard of screaming infant menagerie. Little goats, little lambs, little confused pot belly pigs. It was horrifying AND amazing. These memories of me staring down at my t-shirt covered in mud from the hooves of crazed llamas and deer is something I will never forget and I was devastated to believe that an entire generation of kids would go without these life changing experiences.

I was happy to find last time I went up there that now they have a Discovery Petting Zoo that seems to have actually

taken some of the animals from my beloved Catskill Game Farm. It's a small,

compact area located behind the Baliwick Ranch but it packs a punch.

The animals are all surprisingly personable for being wild and traditionally from Africa and other such non US countries. The tiger is a charming kitten that purrs and plays with pots like a ball of yarn. A camel and a parrot spend their day waiting for their next feed behind a barely existent fence. A motley crew of rejects that somehow have managed to commune together like a hapless of hoard of random hippies.

However-as I wandered through the fenced in areas I began to feel that mayhaps the animals are too close for comfort and The Bronx Zoo might be onto something after all. My turning point came at the end of my journey when at the exit I happened upon a boy training a bear cub. I thought it was sweet, they would make a little show and have him do tricks. "No." The boy explained "this bear is my pet, and he'll always be my pet even when he gets all big."

As much as I appreciate the entire Swiss Family Robinson appeal of that situation I still can't climb on the train of let the bear be a pet. In my mind it's flash forwarding to that fateful moment when the grown bears talon like claws detract and swipe him across the face disfiguring him for life as the boy:now a man falls to his knees yelling "but he never did anything like this before!."

Maybe I'm a cynic and I should just go commune with some more wild animals until my face gets chewed off. I'm sorry, did I say that-I meant before my face gets LOVED off.

The Catskill Cats!

Ain't they cute?

The Catskill Cats visit the town of Catskill in upstate New York annually. They remind me significantly of the NY cows that were hanging around in the city a few years back. Or dare I say even the Long Island horses I've seen in drips and drabs on corners.

Local artists all create their own catspiration and it lines the main street for haphazard tourists to see who make the wrong turn and find them.

Ostrich on a plate

This is Ostrich-cooked. This is me eating said Ostrich. Oddly it doesn't taste like chicken. It tastes like an amazing beef hybrid and it is delicious!

And then I decided to go see a real ostrich and say "I'm sorry, I may have consumed one of your distant relatives. Apologies all around."

The Ducks Are Getting Too Comfortable

I remember a time when ducks stood and stared-webbed feet quaking at the close proximity of a human hand. The only lure a crunchy aging slice of wonder break thrown in small chunks at their anxious excitable beaks.

This duck is daring. He wants nothing but to stand solidly staring. He is a renegade. In the evolution of ducks-he will lead the revolution.

DISNEY was the correct response

For those imaginary readers that responded a resounding "you went to Disney World" on that last hypothetical barely there question-you sirs were correct.

Anything can happen in the happiest place on earth-I can even stop to don a Captain Jack Sparrow hat. This activity I could most likely do in any generic Halloween time store on the eastern seaboard. But hey, something about donning that hat out-side the much lauded and not to be missed Pirates of the Caribbean attraction in The Magic Kingdom does not compare especially when the act is committed during EXTRA magic hours. Who would say no to a heaping spoonful of EXTRA magic?? Yes, I would love some EXTRA magic please with a side of fairy dust and a never ending buffet.

What most find synonymous with the house of mouse is CROWDS and tons of them. In the photo to the left I pay homage to the rush of people exiting the park after a rousing fireworks display in front of Cinderella's castle. How to avoid crowds? The guide books offer hints and tools to do so. However the truth remains that you'll avoid crowds in Disney World if you just don't go. I can say with fair certainty that if you rush for the monorail or a bus before the fireworks happen you might be able to make it out alive in that instance too.

Coolest new attraction I've been on: The Toy Story Round-Up in Hollywood Studios. You are in the game.

It's more fun then a barrel of monkeys! Right, am I right-I couldn't resist adding the photo.

The Magic

I have recently made the pilgrimage to the land of magic and electric lights.

Any guesses as to where that might be?

Vielen Dank

Back in the age of Oprah-the late nineties when the world hung upon her every word I remember sliding into the squeaky leather couch in my den-reclining back and hearing her tell me to say "thank you."  She suggested I keep a "thank you" journal, well not just me, all of America but it felt like she was talking to me.  

I decided that's what I was missing in my adolescent existence.  Instead of selfishly and vain gloriously staring at the trials I underwent daily I would say many thanks.  Vielen dank if you will.  I took the time that was my independent study and found a nook in the library to begin my project. Sandwiched in between the theater section and the periodicals I found a four walled dome to relax.  Here I thought-I would become a new person washed clean of all prior malcontent.

I sat down opening carefully the crisp clean pages of a butterfly journal I had been given for a nondescript holiday and set out on my journey of self-discovery.  Thank you.........for.......I was drawing a blank.  I didn't know where to begin.  What do you write down on paper that you are thankful for?  The sun, the moon, food-pleasant conversation, a clean pair of pants to put on-flan?  It was too much to ponder and with that I closed the door on my thank you journal and on my supposed rebirth.

Why think of this today-nearly ten years after my initial urge plucked my heartstrings.  I realized that it's ridiculous to write down why you're thankful.  What is that going to do?  It's like writing down I will never eat an egg roll again when you know that every Friday you'll stare in the window of a Chinese eatery and end up ordering an egg roll.  I think maybe what I should have been told by the afternoon television guru is perchance go out and be thankful or let people know you appreciate what they do.  Which she may have said anyway.

The Stanley Hotel

When I knew I was going to Colorado-I didn't hesitate.  I  needed to experience the spooky and disconcerting room 217.  Fact: all of the pictures I took around said room turned out blurry.  Fact: I did not intentionally gear them to be out of focus. I personally did not get to stay in "the" room or for the matter the two surrounding it which are purported to be equally as terrifying but I heard the haunting surrounding them and just traversing the ominous hallways left me with an uneasy burn in my gut that can not be replicated.

Apparently these rooms scared the pants off Jim Carey when he filmed Dumb and Dumber here and inexplicably drove him to run out of 217 one night and demand that he be taken to the nearest hotel. For the duration of filming he never stepped foot near the room again and only came in the hotel when he had to.

I am scared, very scared. Of this place on my left. What is it? Why, The Stanley Hotel, home of said Room 217-one of the most notoriously haunted locales in the United States of America.  Created by the man who also is responsible for the Stanley Steamer and most modern inventions we associate with all good things today.

On the right you will find me cavorting posthumously with the owner- Mr. Stanley holding a fish.  If you notice his face....he even appears to be inventing while dangling.

Below, I reset my Macauly Culkinesque hands on my cheeks in ultimate and unbridled fear in the employee tunnel of The Stanley Hotel.  This is one of the spots that Ghost Hunters checked when they visited the hotel where they found so much supernatural activity that they came back repeatedly.  Aside from all of the haunting, this hotel is notorious for being the inspiration of Stephen King's landmark book "The Shining."  

Stephen King was having a dry spell during his early career and decided he needed some inspiration.  Him and his wife checked into The Stanley Hotel at the end of the season.  While the entire staff of the then fading and broken down hotel left-King and his wife stayed.  What he proceeded to stumble upon would become the landmark moments that we would later recognize.  

The most tremendous fact, a residual haunting.  On the night when Stephen King stayed in the hotel he ate in the restaurant  by himself.  While drinking a beer he heard coming from the ballroom one room over what seemed to be music and dancing.  This was ludicrous, everyone had left.  The only two people in the hotel were his wife and himself and she was upstairs resting.  Why, King even had the key to lock up when he was finished. When he entered what he saw was a full blown ball.  Women dancing, men cavorting, and the most taxing element that he couldn't understand was-how come none of them would talk to him?  That would be because none of them knew about him.  They hailed from another time completely.  A moment in time that had been played again on this night.  Another fact, the evening happened to be that of October 31st more notably recognized as All Hallows Eve.

I don't want to reveal too much.  If your interest is peaked, you should take the tour or maybe even dare to stay in Room 217.

Red Glare

This-this right here.  I do not do these.  I do not understand their glory or joy or special context.  Hurling toxins up into the sky to create literally moments of a colorful explosion just doesn't seem important.

Or, maybe it's that fireworks and their mighty blasts facilitated me being loosed from my mothers womb and I'll never forgive them for that.  Either way-I don't get it.  I just-don't-get it.

What I do love about July 4th however is The Twilight Zone marathon on the Sci Fi Channel which almost redeems the day.  Well, that and the barbecues.  I think the most fascinating part about watching the marathon is realizing that some of what they called "future" concerns were right on the nose.  Here, I thought I would be sailing around in a hovercraft.  Instead my planet is melting and the government can track every move I make.  Too bad, the hovercraft would have been fun.

Mountains!

I have been to the mountains.  They are both majestic and vast.  To get up to the mountains you have to take a road that is steep and traveled by mid-size trucks and SUV's.  Compact cars who are clueless often slow down and create traffic jams on the winding roads.

Once you reach the tree line you cannot look back. Searching over the side of the drop you get stomach curdles.  You can literally imagine plummeting millions of miles to your death and it is terrifying. One wrong twist or turn and it's over.

You stare forward-concentrating.  No need to anticipate what surely would never happen.  You ask why railing was put in on certain sections of the road.  It's said because people went over the side.  People died here.  Suddenly, it all becomes real.

You are up in the mountains and society cannot save you.  Tripping through the tremendous potential of nature you become a tourist in a trap.  Eyes bulge grandly and this is it.  This is what you cannot get from wide-screen surround sound DVDs, roller coasters, novelty gifts. Only nature can inspire you to understand fully that it is better then you.  Only the mountains.

This is my new best friend-and he's not even mine. Maybe I'm being sexist, potentially this animal could be a she.  I have no idea for I did not check. Just look at that stare though, this dog knows more than I do.

I found he/she tied up out-side of an organic grocery market owned by a commune in a hippie town in Colorado and he/she looked so sad, so forlorn tied to a wooden spoke with no company.

I walked down the street to be somewhat inspired by the dirt road and the emptiness of the land.  When I came back my new best friend: he/she was gone.  All I have left of he/she is this photo.

Bunny Eggs

Oh sweet Jesus.

The Easter Bunny is in a fire truck, and he's riding around the neighborhood.  If you're not actually seeing what's happening....and only hearing the sirens and the noise and the screams you may assume that mass chaos has ensued and a big fire is raging at the local gas station.  OR even we've been transported back in time to The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire and people are at wits end.

When in reality-

A large man is housed in a bunny costume and chucking candy at neighborhood children who are screeching so loud in their excitement that they sound as if they are being abducted.

Mind The Gap

This evening as I was rushing toward the train with seconds to climb on before the beep of the doors closed me out-my phone flew from my pocket and fell right into the gap between the train and the platform. I made momentary eye contact with a passenger. I didn't know what to say-the two of us simply stared down at the back of the blackberry shining up toward me from the trash of the tracks as the door began to close.

Not knowing where to turn I went for a cop-in the midst of heavy rush hour trains pulling through the station we stared down with large wooden grabber in toe searching for the missing item. I couldn't find it-anywhere. I was hovering on the yellow line, my hands and knees gripping onto the edge of the track so I wouldn't fall in. I had to find it. My former blackberry had been stolen in a 711 and I didn't have the gumption or funds to be springing for yet another replacement. It had disappeared and left me....forcing my anxiety level to rise. The cops had a change of shift and I was handed a new cop with a new flashlight and a new ray of hope on my missing items journey. Thankfully, on top of a black trash bag it was found resting unassumingly surrounded by various items.

It was a relief. I don't recommend it to anyone. Mind the gap. Never leave your phone in your pocket when running for the train or it just might fly out and find a new home on top of a black trash bag.

Uncle Vanya is still my favoritest play ever

I had the pleasure of seeing the new production of Uncle Vanya last night at The Classic Stage Company starring Denis O'Hare, Maggie Gyllenhaal, and Peter Saarsgard. The acting was truthful and bewitching. I couldn't help but sit forward in my chair for most of the performance.

I think what I take away from it most is how well the universality of Chekov came across. The play is timeless and it didn't feel stuck up or pretentious as classic work can when not directed well.

Go-go now, get a ticket, and think a little.