Category Archives: Travel

It’s a date

Attention bailiffs!

If you’re tired of playing that dated and — let’s be honest — rather trite ‘Aren’t you proud to be here today doing your civic duty?’ video to newbies in the jury pool each day, help is on the way!

Wouldn’t a sweeping tale of love and romance — ripped from the headlines “Law and Order” style — be way more inspiring to the usual herd of unwilling victims…and easier for you to stomach watching over and over and over again?

Well, I’d say it’s only a matter of time before a dramatization of the real life courtroom love story between a certain famous former plaintiff and a member of his jury will be coming to a holding room near you.

The couple?  None other than Rodney King, the Los Angeles man who was notoriously beaten by members of the LAPD, and Cynthia Kelley, a member of the jury that awarded him a $3.8 million settlement in the civil suit against that very police department.

(The two met the day after the trial at a pizza shop, so it’s all above board.)

Think of the singles who normally crowd into bars, or suffer through blind dates or church mixers, desperately looking for Mr. and Ms. Right.  Now, those same singles will be clamoring to meet their special someone and send people they don’t know to prison.

There’s a fun two-fer…and the meal’s included.

Now, there’s no guarantee that everyone will find happiness in the courtroom and walk down the aisle like Rodney and Cynthia.  But if you wanna take a chance on love…

You’re just gonna have to face the judge.

Did you hear…

Last night I had dinner with a friend at the Pier 1 Cafe, an outdoor eatery on the Hudson River at 70th Street in Manhattan.  The weather was perfect, so it was a great evening to sit outside with the dogs and enjoy the view of the Jersey skyline.

On the walk back uptown, we were laughing at the snippets of conversation we overheard from passersby — everything from one man’s recitation of his daily pill intake to a teenager’s repeated, “So, what are we gonna do now, huh?  Huh?” to his rather bored looking girlfriend.

(We weren’t eavesdropping; they were just talking really loud.)

That’s when my friend told me about a website called OverheardinNewYork.com — a compilation of conversation overheard in New York City and beyond that is posted online for everyone to enjoy.

These hilarious gems are submitted by everyday folks; the website editors put them into categories — heard in the office, the beach, New York City, celebrity wit, and everywhere (as in everywhere else) — and then give them snarky headlines.  They let site visitors get in on the fun, too, with regular contests where you can submit your headline ideas.  Winners receive copies of the book Overheard in New York.  (Yes, there’s a book, too.)

Here are a few you might enjoy:

Mom to daughter, wandering off: No, come back here, I don’t want to lose you in the store. I already lost one of my kids that way, and that’s enough.

Wife: You’re so grim!
Husband: You made me grim.
Wife: Did I make you grim?
Husband: I’m not grim.

Girl: I’m so glad I don’t work nine to five.
Friend: So, when do you work?
Girl: Eight to four thirty.

Silly, right?  But if nothing else, regular visits to the website will make you feel smarter.

Enjoy!

The look

I’m attending the US Open tonight.  Maria Sharapova and Novak Djokovic are slated to play (not each other) on center court at Arthur Ashe stadium.

It’s always a thrill to watch the top seeds LIVE under the lights.

But if you’ve caught any of the tournament coverage to date, you may have noticed a bizarre preoccupation on behalf of the announcers.  Not on stats or seeds or rivalries or revenge.

This year, it’s all about ‘what you’re wearing.’

John and Patrick McEnroe have anointed themselves the unofficial Joan and Melissa Rivers of ESPN2.  They’ve been doling out fashion advice to male and female tennis players pretty much every match.

Nadia Petrova’s striped tennis dress was deemed ‘too loud; she really needs to seek out some help.’  They seemed to find her outfit a bigger problem than her defeat to Andrea Petkovic. I’ll admit — the stripes aren’t my favorite, either.  But going on and on about her outfit seemed a bit like rubbing salt in the womb after she lost in a three-set tiebreaker.

Rafa Nadal’s neon tennis shoes were ‘a risk, but a good one.’  They did match his outfit, which I thought was cool since there wasn’t a stitch of white on him.  But his match with Teymuraz Gabashvili of Russia was surprisingly competitive — I would have liked to have heard a bit more about this relative unknown.

Even in Andy Roddick’s late night upset by Janko Tipsarevic, there was as much talk about the many tats that Tipsarevic was ‘wearing’ as the lack of energy in Roddick’s game.

I know this is a change of pace for me.  Here I am asking for depth when shallowness is being offered.

But we’re talking John McEnroe here — the snarliest man in sports telling people how to dress and shape their image on the court.  Granted, both his look and personality have improved with age, but I don’t think anyone thinks of him as a style icon.

As we say in the country, ‘it’s hard to escape your raising.’

Fresh fish

Oh dear.

The Sticky Egg has discovered an unfortunate connection to the world of fishing.  As in, ‘sticky egg’ is the name of a fishing fly.

I found this during a Google search last night.  I was checking to see how easy it is to find my blog when you search the phrase ‘sticky egg’…and this fly came up in the first page of results.  (My blog was number two after a prank toy egg…so yes, I’m in good company.)

The name is appropriate, I suppose.  The fly is supposed to imitate fish roe, which trout, steel head and salmon apparently eat ‘with gusto.’

I’m not a big fan of fishing.  The idea of dragging a living creature through the water with a sharp, metal hook through its mouth seems pretty cruel.  I contend that people find it acceptable because fish are ugly.

Think about it.  If fish looked like puppies, would we really celebrate the practice?

But back to this fly.  I just want to make it clear:  The Sticky Egg does not condone nor endorse its use.  The name thing is pure coincidence.

No fish will ever be killed in the writing of this blog.

Just a brain cell or two.

Killer nose

I lived in Boston for six years, and never knew Lizzie Borden’s house was just down the road.

(Random learning from the Internet #725)

Turns out Lizzie Borden and her poor, axe-murdered parents were from Fall Rivers, which is an hour outside of Boston.  Their house has been turned into a museum and bed-and-breakfast, and was recently chosen by The Huffington Post as one of the “10 Strangest Lodgings to Stay Around the World.”

I would second that notion.

Visitors can take a “time tour” of the murders — even see the carefully preserved skulls of the Bordens –  then stay overnight in Lizzie’s room or the rooms of her dearly departed mom and dad.

Well, that certainly sounds restful.

Of course, we have to remember that Lizzie was found not guilty at the murder trial.  But the made-for-TV movie, “The Legend of Lizzie Borden” starring Elizabeth Montgomery, is what is burned on my brain.

There she was — sweet, nose-twitching Samantha  — spooky scary as Lizzie Borden.  After watching her re-enact how the police thought the murders had taken place, I was never more certain in my life that any woman was a cold-blooded killer.  Based on her performance alone, there is no way I would stay overnight in that house.

If the ghost of Lizzie Borden doesn’t get you in your sleep, I’m pretty sure Elizabeth Montgomery will.

Shop talk

A good friend of mine blogs about word meaning and use (see “Word Nymph“).  I thought of her the other day when I realized how my definition for the phrase “window shopping” has changed over the years.

Growing up in rural Kentucky, we had to drive a minimum of 30 minutes to get to a mall.  When you make that kind of time commitment, you usually buy something...so our window shopping took place in a catalog before we left.

After I moved away to college, shops and malls were much closer.  I didn’t have a car then, but I could hitch a ride with a friend easily enough and window shop to my heart’s content.  And I really did window shop back then, because goodness knows I didn’t have any money.

Then I moved to the Midwest and got jobs and cars and drove myself everywhere.  I probably intended to window shop, but instead ended up buying lots of things I didn’t need.

When I moved to the Northeast, things changed even more.  I sold my car.  Walk pretty much everywhere.  On every corner, there are stores for major brands and boutiques and shops. And where do I do most of my window shopping today?

Online.

It’s just so easy.  I can visit any store in seconds, click around on the merchandise — select hundreds of dollars worth, if I feel like it — put it in the shopping cart, and then close out the window, buying absolutely nothing.

I get all the fun of shopping without spending any real money…

…well, that trip.

Loop de loop

On this date in 1898, the first roller coaster was patented.  (They finally figured out how many loops it takes to make you throw up!)

Suffice it to say — I love coasters, but they don’t love me.

One of my favorite roller coaster rides ever was during my very first trip to Las Vegas.  My friend Paul and I both realized we had hit our 30′s without visiting Sin City, so off we went.

We stayed at the New York, New York casino back when it was bright, shiny new.  I don’t even think we knew it had a coaster, so when we saw it was one of the attractions, we kinda poo-poo’ed it.

I mean, seriously — a coaster that wrapped around a casino building in Las Vegas? At $8 a pop?  How much fun could it be?

OMG — SO much fun!

The roller coaster whipped between the casino buildings so fast, it felt like we were going to slam into someone’s hotel room!  It was the best time ever.  We immediately got off and got right back on.  It was so worth the price.

I read it’s up to $14 now.  I’d pay that much today.

I mean, come on — all the other scares on the Strip cost way more.

Crazy good

Unlike most of my friends, I didn’t have many food rules growing up.

My mother was a tremendous cook who always kept the kitchen fully stocked, and as long as we ate at mealtimes, she didn’t really fuss about snacks.  Heck, she liked to snack as much as we did.

She even let us eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast on school days.  So I did.  Every day.  She did put a multivitamin on the kitchen table in an attempt to inject some vitamins and minerals into the meal.

I can get behind that.

So, my mom was the first person I thought of when I heard that Kellogg had opened a Pop-Tarts store in Times Square.  I walked by yesterday on the way to an appointment; just seeing the store made me smile.

I plan to go this weekend and try the new Pop-Tarts sushi.  Create my own custom box of Pop-Tarts, which will definitely contain Brown Sugar Cinnamon and definitely not contain any frosted Pop-Tarts, thank you very much.  And taste test the more than 30 flavors on display.  (I know my sister is very jealous right now.)

Of course, they are also rumored to have t-shirts and the like.  I mean, it is a store in Times Square.

But I doubt very much if they sell vitamins.

Hair show

I have been on the road for the past five days, which means I’ve heard the following phrase a lot:

“Do people tell you that you look like…Kathy Griffin?”

Why, yes…yes, they do.  Pretty much every day.  But especially when I am in airports or train stations or anywhere that people — gay men in particular — think Kathy might be out and about.

I think it’s the hair more than anything.  I’m sure if we stood side-by-side, they’d notice I’m a good half-foot taller, eat more and curse less.

I really don’t mind.   Even though Kathy’s show on Bravo is called “Life on the D-List,” let’s face it — the lady is an A-List celeb now.  She’s won two Emmys and has been nominated for two more this year.

If you watch the “D-List,” which used to simply chronicle her attempts to promote her tour — you’ve probably noticed it’s morphed into something decidedly more high concept this year.  Yes, she’s still a shameless self-promoter, but now she’s using her celebrity to draw attention to causes she believes in, like the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” and ovarian cancer awareness.

Her methods are uniquely Team Griffin, which means she is often cleaning up messes she made along the way.  That’s what makes the show so hilarious.

That…and her toilet of a mouth.

Life’s a picnic

When your hometown is called “Fancy Farm,” people tend to remember the name.

Admittedly, it’s unusual….although it does sound a bit like a now defunct amusement park near Middletown, Ohio called “Fantasy Farm.”  (When I attended the University of Kentucky, I got that joke a lot.)

But on the first Saturday in August, there’s no confusing Fancy Farm, Kentucky.   Ask any local, state or national media outlet, and if they aren’t already there, they can certainly direct you.

The annual Fancy Farm Picnic is big news, and has been for 130 years.  Politics, pork barbecue and great people, all gathered at the party of the year.  Heck, it even made the Guinness Book of Records in 1978 as the Largest One-Day Barbecue in the World.

I was there.

Of course, I’ve been to a lot of picnics since I was five years old.   Playing games and eating barbecue when I was little.  Working in the ice cream booth that was my family’s responsibility.  We’ve had class reunions around picnic time, and lots of family from out-of-town — the ‘city folk’ — coming to Fancy Farm in August for this one-of-a-kind experience.

It’s small town America at its best.  Neighbors coming together, all as volunteers, working to raise money for the community church, proud of the tradition that generations of families have built.

And for the barbecue.  And the politics.

That’s the heart of it all.