Tour de Midwest

I spent last weekend in Wisconsin with my dad’s side of the family and had a blast. Milwaukee is the home of Harley-Davidson, so I enjoyed a visit to their museum. Uncle Bob has been a motorcycle fanatic for years, so it was fun to hear what he had to say about the museum. We also had a chance to check out his personal collection, which includes old bikes and memorabilia. The official museum may have been more polished and crowded, but Bob’s collection has them beat for character.

Aunt Maureen’s hobby is quilting, and she is quite talented. She showed me some beautiful finished products, and some works in progress. While I was enjoying the quilt showcase, she told me to keep an eye out for my favorite, because she would let me take one home with me! I chose a large colorful quilt to replace my bedspread which is falling apart. St. Louis is far too hot and humid to sleep under a quilt right now, but as soon as it cools down my bed is going to be the talk of the town.

That night, my grandma took us all out to a Brazilian steakhouse for dinner. If you’ve never been, it is an experience. They encourage you to take advantage of the all-you-can-eat buffet, but I warned the group that it is a trap. The real treat is the meat. Servers are constantly circulating with giant skewers of hot beef, ready to cut some onto your plate at your request. I described various strategies for pacing, and got the group ready for the experience. Then, the waitress came over and almost ruined anything. She laid a basket of hot cheesy bread balls right in front of me. Most people tried one or two balls, but heeded my warnings and resisted the urge to eat more. I was not so lucky. She has found my weakness, and to be honest, I was lucky I stopped after finishing a basket.

The highlight of my weekend was definitely the driving. No, not the 7 hour trip across Illinois. Uncle Bob recently built a 1932 Ford hot rod convertible, and we took it for a spin up the shore of Lake Michigan for a day. It was a completely different driving experience for me without the power steering or braking. The rumble of the powerful engine made me tingle. I miss it already.

This weekend I went to Ohio to visit mom’s parents who recently moved to a retirement community there. It was almost like a college, with an office of admissions, cafeteria, athletic facility, and extensive event calendar. The only difference is that everything happens in slow motion. Despite the change in pace, I enjoyed watching TCM and spending quality time with my grandparents. Some of the conversations I overheard were straight out of a sitcom. One old person would yell a question across the table at another, who would yell a response to a completely different question because they couldn’t hear. The funniest part was when the questioner was satisfied by the random answer, and both parties believed they had successfully communicated.

One thing Wisconsin and Ohio had in common was their love for sweet corn, and I can’t get enough of the stuff. I am happy that every time I sink my teeth into an ear of sweet corn, I think of my grandparents on both sides of the family. My parents left the middle of the country years ago, but I have another year to savor my corn belt roots.

Too Much History

I gained an enormous appreciation for how young America is when I was in London. Our history is a mere blip on the timeline of societies. Thankfully, much of that history is preserved in some way or another. The Victoria and Albert Museum is incredible. It is enormous, and every room is impressive. You could spend a week there and not see the entire museum. The Winston Churchill Museum was okay, but the highlight of that visit happened after I exited and I found a perfect English gentleman sitting outside, bowler cap and all. I wanted to pick him up and hug him, but instead I took a picture.

Next stop was an old operating theater, where we watched an hour lecture and amputation demonstration. I loved it, but some of the other tourists were less excited about the graphic descriptions. There is a small museum associated with the operating theater, and I saw something miraculous: frankincense and myrrh! They are real things! I never knew what they were, but I held some of each in my hand and felt very connected to Jesus. Kinda.

The funny thing about the old medical museum was that it was awfully similar to a torture museum I once saw in Italy. The devices were practically identical, with different names. For example, both museums had devices for opening a cervix, and both had restraining tables. The list goes on…

And now here are some clouds. I have nothing to say about them. They looked nice.

Where's the gravy?

My favorite British food is Indian food. It is so good, and it is everywhere. I had Indian three or four times this week and it was all delicious. Traditional British food, on the other hand, is merely… eatable. It seems to come in pairs: fish & chips or bangers & mash. It’s all pub food, and frankly I would prefer the nuts at some of the pubs to the food.

The pubs are great though. I love the beer and the atmosphere. The names are also fun. There are three kinds of names: Ye Olde something; Animal body parts, like The Goat Leg or The Sheep Head; or names of random dudes, like The Clarence.

At the end of the work day, the sidewalks outside the pubs are packed with people enjoying a beer on their way home. And you know what else? You pay the price of your drink, nothing more. If the beer is three pounds, you pay three pounds. I love it. No bartenders with attitudes, just good beer and good company.

We have also enjoyed some good French food, but French people must be tiny. My meal of scallops with salad was actually one scallop cut into quarters with a single piece of green garnish. Looking around the table, everyone had about one full bite of food on their plates. When it is as flavorful and tasty as these were, of course, you savour the tiny morsels, but I’m just saying. I could have finished my meal in a bite if I wanted.

The last thing to mention is the tea. I have always been a tea drinker, but it is never such a process as it is here. Having tea in London is so much more than boiling water and adding a tea bag. Having tea here would be incomplete without sitting down with sandwiches and cookies. I think I prefer to keep my tea casual, but I could see how afternoon tea with snacks and friends could be an enjoyable activity periodically.

The Day Love Died

Love Never Dies is the sequel to my favorite musical, the Andrew Lloyd Webber masterpiece Phantom of the Opera. To my dismay (but not my surprise) it was a complete disaster.

Let’s start with the music. The best songs in the entire show are the ones from the original. The new music is modified carnival music, which makes sense because the play takes place on Coney Island. I only remember one of the new songs, which was the title track. In the play, this song is supposed to represent the Phantom’s magnum opus… the song that will bring Christine back to him. Instead the whole number is a joke. It was supposed to be the climax of the show, and I laughed the entire time.

The lyrics were as worthless as the music. Throughout the play, most of the characters just narrated the story in prose, but it was set to music. On the rare occasion that the lyrics did rhyme, it was so forced it was painful. Just imagine someone reading from a bad romance novel to the melody of carnival music, and save yourself the trouble of listening to the soundtrack.

How about the plot? For the sake of simplicity, let’s call the original play a love story: the characters’ actions are motivated by love. As the play goes on, the characters develop and we enjoy learning more about them. In the sequel, the same characters are suddenly motivated by money; Meg is a prostitute and Raoul is a broke alcoholic. Everyone is static and uninteresting. You don’t leave the theater with any sense of satisfaction, or with the feeling that your time and money were well spent.

The character of the Phantom was another disappointment. In the original, he is mysterious and suave in his tight tuxedo with slicked black hair. When we are introduced to him in a puff of smoke behind a mirror, he seems almost supernatural… truly like an angel of music. If that’s not enough, he lurks in the bowels of an opera house. Cool! Contrast that with the sequel. We are introduced to a lovesick Phantom wearing a black bathrobe who runs a carnival from a giant purple head-shaped room with the help of three henchmen straight out of Rocky Horror Picture Show. He is an emo carnie bum who got caught up in some baby daddy drama.

And I use the word “drama” loosely. How’s this for foreshadowing: early in the play we learn that Christine’s son is 10 years old. Soon after, we learn that the Phantom and Christine slept together 10 years ago. I heard the lady behind me say, “I bet the Phantom is the father.” She deserved a bigger sarcastic applause than the entire show.

Thank goodness that was not the only production we saw in London. Our theater experience was redeemed by the musical Oliver and the opera La Fille du Regiment.

I had seen Oliver once before, but it was a small local production. The music is catchy, and the plot is simple. I like that. The opening song was pretty amazing; over the course of “Food, Glorious Food,” about 50 kids emerge from various doors in the stage.

I loved the sets because they actually complemented the play. There weren’t bells and whistles added for spectacle; the elevators and trap doors all served a purpose. Contrast that, once again, with Love Never Dies, which was full of gimmicky costumes and sets.

We also saw La Fille Du Regiment at the Royal Opera. Turns out I actually enjoy going to the opera. Who knew? Earlier in the day, we had taken a backstage tour of the Royal Opera House, which definitely increased my appreciation for the production. We had the chance to see how the huge sets are moved and stored, and we watched a ballet rehearsal.

I am told that I was privileged to see Juan Diego Flórez and Natalie Dessay as the principles in our performance, and yes, they were fantastic. I loved everything about the evening: the sets, the music, the singing, the acting, the costumes. I used to make fun of my mom for being an opera fanatic, but she has successfully converted me.

Colourful Accents

If people in England speak English, I’m not sure what language I speak. In London, two neighbors can speak with completely different accents. I knew to expect some variations in the vocabulary as well (petrol for gasoline, trousers for pants) but even those can change depending on who you talk to. Some people talked in Fahrenheit and feet, others in Celsius and meters. I am having a language identity crisis.

As soon as I started exploring the city on foot, I felt like I was walking through a Hugh Grant movie. A British accent makes the speaker sound so civilized and proper. If someone blatantly insulted me on the street, I would probably think they were narrating a documentary. Even tiny children seem like brilliant academics when they speak in their accents. Except when they are whining. Then the accent makes it even more obnoxious.

One thing I have noticed is that they love terrible smooth jazz here. Whether it’s the guy playing his saxophone in the subway, or the music in the elevator, it is just awful. We took one of the big red tour buses on our first day, and between brief descriptions of the landmarks, they played a loop of smooth jazz. It was worse than having “It’s a Small World After All” stuck in your head. We also saw some of the Greenwich Beer and Jazz Festival, which I think they should rename “Let’s get drunk while customer service puts us on hold.”

In conclusion, if a British musician offered to play jazz for me, I would tell him to talk about nature for an hour instead.

Urban Costume Party

When you walk around the streets of New York, it looks like 75% of the pedestrians are wearing costumes. This is the best city in the world for one of my favorite activities: people watching.

I was heartbroken to learn that there is a tragic denim shortage in the city of New York. The poor hipsters must resort to wearing skin-tight jeans that end around their calves. Just kidding, it’s a really ironic fashion statement. Just kidding it’s dumb. Just kidding I respect them.

On Wednesday night I arrived and hopped on a subway to the Yankees game with Aaron. We won (well, the Yankees lost) and enjoyed $50 of hot dogs and beer… so, one of each.

On Thursday morning I waited outside NBC studios for tickets to see Late Night with Jimmy Fallon. The standby tickets were easy to get, and we were instructed to come back that afternoon. I have seen a taping of Jay Leno before, which was not great. Jimmy Fallon was so fun. There was a hilarious comedian to loosen up the audience before taping. The house band for the show is The Roots, who also accompanied Will Forte for a performance of the MacGruber theme song.

Friday was definitely the highlight of the weekend. I finally made a pilgrimage to Medieval Times. After preparing with our friend Jameson, seven of us took a bus into New Jersey. Some of us wore costumes: a wizard, a king, a stable boy, and a princess.

I had trouble following the plot, suffice it to say that our knight was defeated in the competition despite our vocal support and the shrill screams of the young girls in our section. We exited the castle covered in grease from eating without utensils, but our spirits were high.

I hung out with a few celebrities over the weekend. Well… I walked past them. But I could have hung out with them. Scott Adsit, Peter Dinklage, Meryl Streep, and Lisa Kudrow all brushed elbows with me. No big deal. Well maybe it was a big deal for them. Next stop: London.

New Hobbies

Lately I have been doing a fair amount of shopping on craigslist. First, I sold my home theater system to finance my shopping spree. Then, I bought an electric keyboard to advance my music career. I bought an Xbox because it will make me a better surgeon one day. And I bought a DSLR camera with hopes of learning the art of photography.

I have a lot to learn about taking artful pictures. I have been spending time outside playing with the settings, but my photos still look the same as when I was using a point-and-shoot. The only difference is the higher resolution. For now all I can do is take more pictures and hope for divine inspiration.

I have been seeing some cool tilt-shift photography online lately, but to do it the right way apparently you need the right hardware. However, my favorite feature of tilt-shift photography, miniature faking, can be created using software. It’s not perfect, but it’s pretty fun.

The first step is choosing an image. It seems that the best results come from wide angle images taken from above. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of those. The best I could find on my computer is a picture I took from a hot-air balloon over some vineyards in California.

For the next step, most online tutorials assume you have Photoshop and know how to use it. I don’t have Photoshop, nor do I know how to use it. But I do have the world wide web! So, along with not buying a tilt-shift lens, here is the second shortcut: tiltshiftmaker.com

Not bad for a crappy picture and free software. I will try taking a better picture and using GIMP next time. We’ll see if it’s worth the extra time.

Mix Tape, Vol. 2

“Glitter Freeze” from Plastic Beach by Gorillaz
“Way Over Yonder in the Minor Key” from Mermaid Avenue by Billy Bragg & Wilco
“Two Doves” from Bitte Orca by Dirty Projectors
“Science of Fear” from Conditions by The Temper Trap
“The Kids” from The Adventures of Bobby Ray by B.o.B
“Kid A” (Radiohead cover) by John Mayer
“Nancy Boy” from Placebo by Placebo
“Tin Man” from In Evening Air by Future Islands
“Your Love is My Drug” from Animal by Ke$ha
“Monument” from Advisory Committee by Mirah

Loco for Cocoa

Last week I had an incredible chocolate experience with Mo’s Dark Bacon Bar. I cherished every morsel because I had never seen that brand before, so I thought it must be hard to find.

One day later, we went to a wine and beer tasting (I was actually more impressed by the associated cheese samples) and on the way out I squealed with glee to see a whole row of Vosges Haut-Chocolat exotic chocolate bars. Jonathon and I agreed that it would be a mistake not to purchase a variety.

So, this week we ate three new flavors of chocolate.

Naga Bar – sweet Indian curry powder, coconut flakes, deep milk chocolate
When I popped the first square into my mouth, I was not thrilled. I wondered whether it was a mistake to mix curry and chocolate. I took a break from the bar, and began thinking about who might enjoy my remaining three pieces. Shortly after, I found myself reaching for the box again. Before I knew it, I had a second square in my mouth, and somehow I was loving it. I enjoyed each subsequent piece more than the one before it!

Red Fire Bar – Mexican ancho y chipotle chillies, Ceylon cinnamon, dark chocolate
This bar, as you might expect, basically tastes like Mexican chocolate. I enjoyed it, but it was not quite as exotic or unique as some of the other bars we tried. After a few squares, you definitely feel a little burn in your mouth from the peppers, but Jonathon and I wondered whether the burn was really a good thing. If you like your chocolate to have a kick, give it a try. I personally don’t think it stands up to the chocolatier’s other creations.

Black Pearl Bar – wasabi, ginger, black sesame seeds, dark chocolate
This one is a little weird. The chocolate is tasty, and the black sesame seeds add a fun crunch, but I was not thrilled about the ginger. The other chocolate bars all had a really interesting progression of flavors, but this one was a pretty constant confusing dessert sushi thing.

We also tried the milk chocolate version of the bacon bar, but I say stick with the dark chocolate. That one is definitely my favorite so far. There are many more flavors to try, so stay tuned!

Holy Bacon Chocolate, Batman!

For Easter, my mom sent me a big box of treats. The contents included a three-ounce bar of chocolate called Mo’s Dark Bacon Bar. The front of the box simply says, “Applewood smoked bacon, alderwood smoked salt, dark chocolate.”

Everyone loves bacon, especially the internet, but what the hell is smoked salt? Both my mom and her mom are masters of gag gifts, so my first reaction was that this was some kind of joke, not intended to be an enjoyable experience. Then I read the back of the box.

First of all, this is a $7.50 candy bar. Second, there is a picture of a pretty woman on the back. Those were enough to convince me this was the real deal.

This is not a novelty item. My bacon chocolate bar was delicious. It is the ultimate blend of sweet, salty, and smoky. The flavors are perfectly balanced. This is a piece of chocolate you don’t want to swallow, because you want the experience to last as long as possible.

I felt like Violet when she enjoyed an entire meal, course by course, at Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. The first course was chocolate, followed by a subtle hit of the salt, and when those melted away, there were actually little bits of bacon to savor.

Start saving up. Mo’s Dark Bacon Bar is worth the investment. And don’t even think about getting the milk chocolate version.