Archive for the ‘Retrospective’ Category

Retrospective: Smashville!


2011
12.26

Welcome to Smashville, Tennessee
December 26, 2009

As a consolation prize for being stranded far, far away from our planned Christmas vacation destination, The Coach anted up a good bit of money to buy us some NHL tickets for the day after Christmas. As you may have guessed from other blog entries, The Coach loves just about any sport. The Coach has even kissed the ice and taken a bobsled run in Lake Placid (circa Christmas 2006).

Hell, even our favorite films are sports related. The Replacements, anyone?

So, Saturday afternoon, we headed out for “Smashville” to see the Predators play the Blackhawks. And, of course, the Predators lost, but that’s getting a bit ahead of myself. We drove and drove, saw no snow, and ended up stuck in a nice little traffic jam before getting to the event parking at the AT&T building located near the Ryman Auditorium. We waded through bunches of Wildcat and Tiger fans (their bowl game was scheduled for Sunday), bought CDs at the Ernest Tubb Record Shop, and wandered through a t-shirt shop hoping to find Predators shirts to wear to the game. No luck there, although The Coach kept pointing out confederate flag items that we could send to TQE. {Don’t worry, I waved him off!}

Eventually, we went to stand in line outside of the Sommet Center. As we came to find out, the doors don’t open until 1 hour before game time, so we just stood around for 15 minutes people watching and taking bad pictures of ourselves. When we finally got into the building, we claimed our free program and backpacks (courtesy of Bridgestone tires) and headed for the Pro Shop to look at shirts.

This is where the night got a little rough for me. First, I just don’t see how a t-shirt can sell for $42 (whaaaa) and, second, I am way too short to be stuck in the back corner of the store with no means of escape. Although we eventually found cheaper gear (a shirt for me, a hat for The Coach), I had to worm my way out of the store because it was simply too crowded. Claustrophobia anyone?

So, I stood outside the store, playing around on Facebook, waiting for The Coach to emerge with our gear. When he finally did appear, we headed towards our seats in the “All-Inclusive Zone.” Yes, my husband — bless his little heart — paid almost top dollar to sit in the area that included free food, beer and wine. {Top dollar would have been $250/person for a table top in the bar area, but that is a little too rich for my blood.} I stripped off my sweater, threw on my new t-shirt over my nice warm UnderArmour shirt, and added a stocking cap. Yeah, we still didn’t match everyone in the section. Apparently real Predators fans aren’t above paying tons of money for jerseys to outfit the whole family!

I have to admit that when we bought the “all-inclusive” tickets, I was expecting hot dogs, nachos and beer … and not much else. You can imagine my surprise when we walked into a fairly decent buffet. Sure, there were hot dogs, but the menu also included roast beef, green beans, yams, pastas, pulled pork, salmon mousse, a massive cheese selection, and numerous desserts. As for the beer, well, Bud Light must be the official sponsor of the Predators or something.

We ate, went down to our seats in time to see the mascot descend from the ceiling, and listen to some famous recording artist (that we had never heard of before) sing the National Anthem. Sometime during the first period, the Blackhawks scored, then the Predators scored, then The Coach abandoned me for the more comfortable seats in the bar. I joined him during the third period when it was obvious that the Predators were going to get their butts kicked. {Sigh}

One of many faceoffs
Predators vs. Blackhawks

Final Thought: I don’t know how the Liquid Ice girls can stand the cold in those skimpy ass outfits. Hell, it made me shiver just to look at them, and I covered from head to toe with warm clothes! I hope they have a heated room somewhere between cheerleading sets.

Originally Posted: December 28, 2009

Retrospective: The Hermitage


2011
11.27

Fencepost @ The Hermitage
November 2009

A few weekends ago, when The Coach’s football season came to a crashing halt thanks to a nine-point loss in the first round of the state playoffs, we knew it was time to get the heck out of Sorta’ Cosmopolitan. With the exception of my up and back trip to a state conference, it had been months since we had managed to get out of town. In fact, the last time we were away from home was back in July when we embarked on our “Great American Road Trip” through Nebraska, Wyoming, South Dakota, and the southeastern corner of Montana.

It was definitely time to get away.

Of course, somewhere along the line, we had managed to acquire the Tenure Puppy. Since she was too little to board, we knew that an overnighter was out of the question. Instead, we popped the puppy in the bathroom with her puppy pad, water, and lots of toys, loaded up the Mustang and drove south to the sunnier Southern city of Nashville. Our mission? To visit The Hermitage and do a little Christmas shopping at Opry Mills.

We had been meaning to visit The Hermitage for a while now, but other locations in Nashville had distracted us on previous visits: the Country Music Hall of Fame, a concert at the Ryman, a football bowl game, a boat ride on the General Jackson Showboat. Heck, we even took a trip out to the Stones River National Battlefield. This time, however, we made a pact: We’d start out at The Hermitage and work our way back to our shopping and dinner locations. That way, we’d be sure to a decent amount of time at the historic site, seeing how it was going to cost us $15 each (AAA discount) to get into the mansion.

Talk about Timing
Renovations underway at The Hermitage

Like all of our family trips, we had a bit of a surprise when we got to Nashville. It wasn’t as bad as having our car die in Bonnaroo traffic (which happened on our way back from Florida) or getting rerouted around a nasty car wreck near Mammoth Cave (which happened during one of the hottest days of the summer when I had two cats and a dog in the car with me and the car conditioning pooped out on me). It wasn’t even as bad as the summer my folks tried to take us to the Statue of Liberty, only to find out that it was closed for renovations. No, this was relatively minor by comparison. You see, we managed to arrive at The Hermitage when it was under renovation! Of course, the people running the site put a positive spin on it, posting the following sign:

During the fall and winter you’ll have the unique opportunity to see restoration work underway at the Hermitage mansion and at three historic log buildings. Our historical interpreters will tell you all about the work and the history of these buildings. At times, access to areas around these buildings will be limited for your safety. We appreciate your understanding as we strive to better preserve the home of President Andrew Jackson.”

Aside from making it impossible to get a scaffolding-free picture of the front of the mansion, we didn’t have too many problems. Plus, as you can tell from the picture to the left, the site could use a little TLC. That the problem with wood in the humid south — it tends to rot and it’s a pain in the behind to keep paint on it.

We arrived at the mansion and ended up getting a great deal of personal attention because there were only two other people on the tour. The house is amazing inside: the wallpaper – a massive mural that depicted themes from Greek mythology – made it worth the trip. I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Plus, unlike many other sites, pretty much everything in the mansion had actually belonged to Andrew Jackson. The only downside was that you couldn’t take pictures inside the building and you could only look through Plexiglas into the climate-controlled rooms.

The View from the Back Porch
You can tell the fall leaves were past their peak.

Sadly, no one on the tour – except The Coach – understood my Big Block of Cheese Day references. Maybe they didn’t watch West Wing when it was on the air? Maybe the cheese reference would have worked better in the actual White House? Maybe I am just too smart for my own good? Who knows?

After walking through the mansion, we popped out the back door and headed out to the work yard to see the smokehouse, the kitchen, and the storeroom. We even got to see the poo-poo scraper sitting by the back steps. You know, I could have used one of those, but it looked too heavy to stuff in my purse. (LOL) Eventually, we walked out the gate by the bell, passed the “Lady’s Necessity,” and through the formal English garden to the Tomb of Andrew and Rachel. [I have a picture of this on Flickr, but can’t post it here because The Coach was in the photo. Ah, anonymity!] Geez, I feel like I have spent a great deal of time viewing the graves of dead presidents — Kennedy, FDR, Truman, Eisenhower and now Jackson. Does that make me creepy?

One last note: Can we really say that Andrew Jackson was a great man? Granted, he did a lot for the “common man” (read: white man), but he was still a slave owner in the South. Granted, he was the hero of the Battle of New Orleans (Does the War of 1812 ring any bells?), but he was also the same man who supported the forcible removal of the Native Americans.

Maybe he was a great man, but a good man? Probably not.

Of course, the last thing we saw at The Hermitage was the sign designating it a “certified historic site” on the Trail of Tears National Historic Trail. Ah, Sarah Vowell, we could have used your commentary while standing there, mouths open, laughing at the irony of it all.

Originally Published: November 27, 2009

It’s Bean Season!


2011
10.15

Blogger’s Note: I caught a lot of flak from some trolls when I first published this back in 2008. For the record, someone gave me hell for soaking the beans in salt water. Another person obviously didn’t read the whole thing because s/he went on and on about soaking the beans for at least eight hours. I wonder how short that person’s nights are? Oh, and there was the person who was upset because I used the “f-word” because apparently professors aren’t supposed to cuss. (Obviously, that person has never met some of my colleagues.) Sadly, Whole Foods doesn’t carry these beans anymore. So, if you know where I can find some on the ‘net, let me know because they were a huge hit. Sadly, I’ve had to resort to cooking 55 cent bags of pinto beans purchased at Aldi.

Oh. My. God. I bought a bag of Gourmet Valley Red Calypso Beans during our Whole Foods shopping binge. I nearly didn’t buy them because they were $4.99 for a 12 oz bag, but since I was already spending a fortune on organic spices, I said “What the hell?” and threw them in the cart. Let me tell you, they were well-worth the money. Soooo good.

As some of you know, I am the Queen of the Bean. It must be a southern girl thing, because in the winter I make beans almost every Monday night. Red Beans and Rice. Black Beans and Rice. White Beans and Ham. Lentils. Split Peas. Pinto Beans. Nigella’s Red Bean Dip (like hummus, but with kidney beans). I’ve even been known to make spiced broiled garbanzo beans (but I have not written poetry about them).

I decided that I’d cook these fancy, dancy heirloom beans for Tuesday night’s dinner. I soaked the beans overnight in salted water to prepare them for cooking. On Monday morning, I assembled the bean soup in my slow cooker (i.e., Crockpot). First, I spritzed the bottom of the ceramic bowl with a little EVOO (if you’re not a Rachel Ray fan, that’s short for Extra Virgin Olive Oil). I rinsed the beans, added them to the Crockpot and covered them with about an 1″ of water. I chopped up and onion and dumped it in. I added cumin, parsley, a little black pepper, and red pepper flakes. I did, however, add chopped up smoked sausage to the pot. Usually, I would add some garlic, but I didn’t feel like chopping it up, so … no garlic. Cranked the Crockpot up to high and let ‘er rip until about 6 p.m. (so, about 8 hours).

These turned out so good. They held their shape even though I cooked them all day. They had really good texture. Plus, after I scooped some of the beans into my bowl, I added some small chunks of panquehue cheese that I picked up at Whole Foods. The cheese had pepper flakes mixed into it and melted down nicely.

So. Damned. Good. I just wish I had bought a second bag of the pricey little f*ckers. :-D

Update, 7:18 a.m. : Apparently I wasn’t the only one who liked the beans. The Coach emailed me to say, “Just wanted to let you know that the beans were great!!! I would ask what was in them, but it is probably better that I don’t know.”

Originally Published: February 20, 2008

Georgia 2009: Drifting


2011
05.07

Driftwood Beach
Jekyll Island, Georgia
Originally Posted: June 13, 2009
Taken on the way home from Florida

Florida 2009: Animated


2011
05.06

In the Animation Theater
Disney’s Hollywood Studios
Originally Posted: June 12, 2009

Bonus: Can you name this movie?

Florida 2009: Cucumbers …


2011
05.05

… on a tree???
The Cucumber Tree @ The Land
Epcot’s “Behind the Seeds” Tour
Originally Posted: June 11, 2009

Florida 2009: So Long …


2011
05.04

… And Thanks for All The Fish!
Dolphin Show, Sea World of Orlando
Originally Posted: June 10, 2009

Florida 2009: Birds, Birds, Birds


2011
05.03

I want my fish!
Birds at Sea World. Orlando, Florida
Originally Posted: June 9, 2009

Florida 2009: Merritt Island


2011
05.02

A “Flutterfly”
Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge
@ Kennedy Space Center, Florida
Originally Posted: June 8, 2009

Retrospective: The Florida of My Youth


2011
05.01

Blogger’s Note: I guess I just couldn’t get enough of Florida. The year after I graded AP exams, The Coach and I took two vacations. One was the Great American Road trip through South Dakota, Wyoming, Nebraska, and Wyoming. The other? To Orlando. We did have some good times on the trip, but somehow I never got around to writing blog entries about them. We also had some bad times, such as the fact that both of us got pickpocketed at EPCOT and the fact that the Space Shuttle never took off. Sigh. So basically, this is it, aside from some pictures that I will share over the next few days …

I was going to start this blog entry by talking about how long it has been since I’ve traveled to Florida … but that’s technically not accurate. I was in Daytona last summer to grade AP exams and managed – in just one day, mind you – to get the worst sunburn I’ve had in at least a decade. Thinking further back, I also came to Florida during my graduate school years, wandering through parts of the panhandle and camping with TQE. Maybe the more technical description is that I haven’t been to Orlando in years, since I was 16 and my father took us all to the Magic Kingdom. I also managed to get my first (and only) speeding ticket during that trip, driving from Orlando to Tampa. My father said, “Go with the speed of traffic” so I did. And when the cop pulled me over, I couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that his bellybutton was at the top of the car window and he asked the most obvious questions.

Ah, family vacations.

When I was a kid growing up in Alabama, I could count on at least one Florida trip a year. We’d go to Pensacola, Panama City, Daytona Beach. One year, my father rented a condo on Mexico Beach where we swam all day, ate raw oysters in a dumpy bar, and let dirty old men teach us how to play pool. That was the summer that Mary Lou vaulted her way to Olympic gold.

Another year, Dad rented a condo on Tampa Bay where we swam with the sting rays, went to Bush Gardens, and sat on the beach. We spent a spring break at Disney, where it poured the whole time and we could only get dry by riding Space Mountain. We took a summer trip down to Key West to see Hemingway’s House and stand as close as possible to our Cold War enemy. There were trips to St. Augustine for the history, and to the Okefenokee Swamp and the Everglades to see the alligators. Yes, we saw a lot of this state during my childhood years.

The one picture I have of my father, my mother and me was taken in Florida. The only thing I remember about that trip was stopping to see orange groves and drink fresh squeezed juice. I couldn’t have been more than four because the following year my folks divorced and dumped me in New York until I was ten.

Later, as I was preparing to go away to college, my father lost his job and ended up moving the family to Coral Springs, a tacky little suburb in Broward County, Florida. I came home one summer, worked on the Florida Turnpike, and slept on the couch because the apartment was so small that there really wasn’t any room for me anymore. I went back a couple other times, taking friends who wanted a free place to crash on the way to Spring Break debauchery and taking my future husband. That was the trip when my little sister ran away from home and the cops came to the complex. Soon after, my middle sister eloped with a much older guy, my father lost another job, and the family moved to Mississippi. I think that was the time I started to hate Florida and all that it symbolized.

And yet, we still decided to come to Florida for our first summer vacation …

Originally Posted: June 11, 2009