Archive for the ‘Travel and Culture’ Category

The Anniversary Present


2013
02.19

I scream, you scream, we all scream for ice cream
Ben and Jerry’s | The Loop, St. Louis

Last year, The Coach bought me a new Keurig coffee maker for Valentine’s Day. This year, I gave him a trip to St. Louis to return “Farticus” the Bulldog to my sister. I’m not sure which one of us got the better present. I suspect that The Coach did. During the six months that Spartacus visited E’ville, he managed to:

Eat two electric blanket cords;

Eat an entire tiki torch;

Eat all of the toys my sister sent with him;

Break his original kennel;

Barf up a toy, a rubber band, money, and a binder clip;

Chew the corners off my red coffee table;

Bit a chunk out of a French door;

Chew up the corner of one of the new back steps; and

Break the back door (although The Coach may have been involved).

He also ate all of Lady Bird’s toys, had to go to the vet to have his eye fixed after getting in a fight with Birdie, and left bruises on my hands where he tried to rough-house a bit too much. He snored and slobbered and farted. He terrified Clara and she took to hiding upstairs and, later, in the dining room (which is now tricked out with its very own litter box).

Spartacus and The Coach
In a more cuddly moment

And yet, Spartacus could be quite charming in his own way. He was the smartest dog in his obedience school class. He rides in the car better than our dogs do. He was remarkably good in public. Everywhere we went, the dog was treated like a rock star. When he was sleepy, he could be cuddly.

Most importantly, he did not break my TV set.*

So Saturday, we loaded up the dog, his kennel, and two bags of his gear (re: puppy pad, blankets, a new toy) and drove him over to St. Louis. The dog didn’t even look twice at us once he saw my nephew standing there. After chatting for a while, my sister and her crew left for their three-hour drive to the bowels of Missouri, the dog loaded into the hatch of the car. By all accounts, the dog is happy: he’s been to the park, he’s snored my oldest nephew out of bed, and he totally destroyed the new toy.

As for us, we went to The Loop, ate noodles and ice cream, bought some Starbucks and drove home to our own menagerie. Anticlimactic, I know, but for the sake of full disclosure we did have a fancy Valentine’s Day meal earlier in the week.

The Critter Update: Clara is moving around the house again, although she needs a good shave and a shower – in her stressed out state, she chewed herself raw again. Clancy is still banned from the living room (due to his 16 ½ year old bladder, not dog fights). Lady Bird has returned to alpha dog status, wedging herself between the humans on the couch.

So, Spartacus, while we love you, we are relieved that you have returned to your own family. I suspect you’re relieved too: less time in the kennel, more time sleeping in a human bed, and no other animals to compete for affection. You can always visit for the holidays, but please, leave your teeth at home.

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Minneapolis or Bust?


2013
01.15

Tomorrow’s Destination: Minneapolis, MN

Who goes to Minneapolis in January? Me, that’s who. Tomorrow, I’ll be headed north to attend a meeting sponsored by The Big River Works — a part of America’s WETLAND. The focus of the meeting is listed as “increasing cooperation among states and municipalities by focusing on jobs, tourism, recreation, and culture,” which fits loosely (very, very loosely) with my research agenda on the Mississippi River Watershed. Actually, I’m interested in the underlying dynamics — the strategies offered by America’s WETLAND to help make the watershed healthy and sustainable. I’m hoping that will provide some color (and some context) for my book’s narrative. We’ll see.

Before I can leave town, however, there are myriad things to accomplish. I have to sit through a meeting (which starts in about 8 minutes). I have to pack. I need to print out all my information for the hotel and the flight. I need to water the orchid in my office. I have to make sure The Coach has enough food to eat while I am gone. Plus, there are Faculty Senate minutes to type, blog entries to grade (already?!?), and fires — always fires — to put out. And at some point, I need to start working on this list of stuff that I should have finished over the Winter Holiday (instead of playing in Florida and Alabama with The Coach and TQE).

Happy New Year


2013
01.01

Moon Pies for New Year’s Eve!
Mobile, Alabama

Bugs.


2012
09.20

A giant f*cking cockroach gave me a fly-by this evening while I was on the phone with The Coach. Now that’s one thing I do not miss about living in Louisiana. Bread pudding and crawfish pies, on the other hand … mighty tasty.

Louisiana or Bust!


2012
09.19

Five days.
27 hours in a car.
One conference.
One new furry (and hopefully, temporary) family member to acquire.
I’m tired and I haven’t even walked out the door. :-P

Book Nerd.


2012
07.12

Ann Patchett’s Bookstore
Nashville, TN

As you may well know, The Coach and I have been complaining about the fact that we need to buy new gutters for our house. I had set aside some cash to do it this summer, but alas, I’m going to have to raid the savings account to take a last-minute trip up to Ohio to see the family. I guess it’s a good thing we haven’t had any rain this summer; in fact, it’s been so dry that we’ve decided to put off the gutters until next spring and just use some of our tax return to help cushion the financial blow.

Of course, we didn’t make that decision until after we decided that we should be responsible adults and “staycation” in July instead of taking a big expensive trip out west (which, you know, is what I really wanted to do). Plus, given the fact that Clancy just turned 16, I have this (sort of irrational) fear that the dog might die while being boarded and we had already boarded him once this summer. And, to be honest with you, I didn’t want to put all those miles on my Mustang. The Coach’s car has already topped 175K and next summer, when Sally is all paid off, I plan on giving him my old car so I can get a new Prius (if I can afford it – we’ll see).

Yeah, that’s a long lead in, just to tell you that we did a day trip down to Nashville last Thursday as a part of our staycation adventures.

We had planned to go to the Parthenon, but it took us a while to get out the door, so the trip ended up being a bit, well, “abridged.” Because he is a good sport, The Coach took me shopping at Parnassus Books. That’s Ann Patchett’s independent book store, if you didn’t know that already. In a way, I saw this shopping adventure as a bit of an economic statement against giant corporate bookstores. I know, I know: I shop at both Barnes and Noble and Amazon, but that’s because we don’t have an independent bookstore in this neck of the woods.

Little known fact (or not): In the nine years that we have lived in Evansville, we have gone from three bookstores (Borders, Barnes and Noble, and Books-a-Million) to one. Oh sure, there are a couple Christian bookstores (there’s not for me) and less than a handful of used bookstores (which are okay, but cannot meet all of my reading needs). Since I have a massive book addiction, I get panicked at the thought of BN going under. I mean, what will I do then? What will happen to my need for immediate gratification? It’s true that I have an e-reader, but it’s just not the same thing!

I’ll admit that I was a little worried when we discovered that the bookstore was located in a suburban strip mall instead of being in a funky old house or a chic downtown location. But, as the old saying goes, don’t judge a book by its cover. (I know, very pun-like.) The store has a very nice selection of books, from literary fiction to teen novels to the children’s section with its child size entrance that even I was too tall to use. The Coach pointed out a couple of books that piqued my interest – one of which (Iversen’s Full Body Burden) came home with us. I also bought a signed copy of Patchett’s The Patron Saint of Liars because I thought it would be fun to buy an Ann Patchett book in Ann Patchett’s bookstore.

Yes, I am that nerdy.

While I wouldn’t make a second trip down to Nashville just to go book shopping, The Coach and I both agreed that we’d add Parnassus Books to our list of places to stop whenever we are in Nashville for hockey games or concerts, or when we are driving through coming back from a trip down south. But, once The Coach’s paychecks start up again (mid-August), I plan on signing up for the store’s “First Editions Club” so that I can have at least one nice book a month. ;-)  

In the Bathroom
The Melting Pot, Nashville

It might seem that our whole trip was focused on acquiring books – and maybe it was – but we also poked our heads into a Ten Thousand Villages where I bought a mouse for my mouse (I’ll take a picture one day) and we found a Bath Junkie where I got some salty almond-tainted foot scrub. More importantly, we got to play with our food again – that’s right, Nashville has a Melting Pot! And, then we just came home because, you know, the dogs needed out and it’s a good two hours home from Nashville.

Final note: I bought a fondue pot when we lived in Chicago, oh, about 15 years ago. It’s still in the damned box. D’oh!

Subterranean Escapes


2012
07.06

Goatie Goodness
Squire Boone Caverns, Corydon, IN

OR: HOW WE ESCAPED THE HELLMOUTH FOR 60 MINUTES

There’s only so much time a body can spend floating in the water getting prune-like toes while trying to beat the heat. Quite frankly, the Redneck Riviera is getting bathwater warm these days — something I adore, but The Coach hates. I guess a body just can’t get cool enough when the water’s 90+ degrees?

When the weather’s broiling hot, there’s not much one can do to stay cool. Oh sure, there’s the movie theatre and the office, but there are only so many movies one can watch and who really wants to work during their designated staycation? So, a couple days ago, The Coach and I decided to escape the heat by going 60 feet underground.

That’s right, folks: We hit the Indiana Cave Trail.

As I learned last year when TQE and I went to Marengo Cave, Underground Indiana has issued a “passport” for this “trail.” If you get it stamped at all three southern Indiana caves – Marengo, Bluespring, and Squire Boone – you will get a special Indiana Cave Trail t-shirt. Surprisingly, I had not lost my passport (with my first stamp on it) in the 11 months that had passed between my friend’s visit and our recent heat wave. The Coach and I discussed our options: did we want to go north towards Bloomington or east towards Louisville? In the end, we picked Squire Boone Caverns, mostly so we could continue on to the other ‘Ville and visit a friend of ours.

Lost in Indiana — or Not?
This place was out in the boonies!

Here’s the 4-1-1 if you’re interested: Squire Boone Caverns is located in the middle of nowhere, or at least, it feels like the middle of nowhere. Once you get out of Corydon proper, you are surrounded by corn fields and trailer homes … and more corn fields. Fortunately, there are a lot of signs to guide you into the park – which turned out to be more than just the cave. At the bottom of the hill, there’s a grist mill; up top, there’s a little village where you can buy candy, soap and candles, “mine” for fool’s gold, and feed the goats and ducks. Too bad it was so damned hot; I couldn’t bring myself to even look at the candles because I knew they’d just melt into puddles of wax. I did, however, take a picture of the goat.

The second thing you need to know is that there are 73 stairs in and out of the cave. The folks that operate the place really, really want you to know this. There are signs everywhere and they will remind you two or three times before you start down into the cave. What they don’t tell you is that you will be descending on a spiral staircase or that there will be a sign telling you to “Look Down: 60 feet.”

All those stairs are worth it, though, if you want to stand around in 54 degree temperatures for an hour or so. Well, there are also some interesting formations (like the flat stalagmites and the rimstone) and a waterfall (the 90% humidity ruined my hair as you’ll see below), but seriously: 54 degrees! The cave would have been the perfect place to take a nap if only they would let you. Sadly, the only person spending extended time down in the cave is Squire Boone – or rather, 27 of his dead bones.

Big Ass Rock Formation
I took this while we lollygagged at the back of the tour

And, if you haven’t figured it out by now, Squire is Daniel’s brother, so you can put on your coonskin hat – or buy one in the gift shop. You can also buy commemorative caving helmets and bat stuffies — even though the cave doesn’t really attract bats. In fact, according to our tour guide, he has only seen 14 bats in three years (yes, he counted).

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From Music Fests to Magic Mike


2012
07.02

Saturday Night Sweat Fest
Yes, we *did* sit out there in the 100+ temperatures

The Hellmouth Update: We shattered the record high for Saturday, eventually hitting 106 degrees. When we got to the concert – an outdoor one, to boot – it was still running around 101 degrees at 8 p.m. That’s just freakin’ ridiculous. To add insult to injury, we hit 105 on Sunday – which I believe might be another record high, although I can’t confirm that because I was too keyed up from the bridal shower turned bachelorette party to pay attention to the news.

The Weather Channel tells me that we broke our June record high on the 28th when we hit 107 degrees (the old record high was 104 and dated back to 1954). Other cities in the region are busting records from the 1930s and the words “Dust Bowl Days” keep cropping up in discussions. I might have to check out a couple of Steinbeck books the next time I go to the library.

Granted, a lot has changed when it comes to agricultural practices in America, so I have hopes that the farmers won’t struggle as much as they did in the 1930s. Driving through Kentucky on Saturday, the corn and soybeans still looked pretty healthy (thank you irrigation systems). My backyard, however, is a complete disaster (green garden beds, dead grass) and I don’t even want to think about the sod the city put down earlier this spring. And, while we have managed to keep the garden alive with lots and lots of water, several of my flower plants have keeled over and died because, well, they are not worth the extra cost in the water bill (and we kept forgetting to water them anyways).

The 10 day forcast is looking a little better: I only see two triple digit days in there and we might get some rain today. I’ll give Mother Nature some credit; we did get a splash of rain (and a bunch of wind), just enough to tap down some of the dust and dirt. Maybe we all need to start doing a communal rain dance or something because my watermelon could use the help!

ROMPING on a Saturday: So, what do you do when the heat’s hot enough to bake cookies on your car’s dashboard? If you are us, you spend your Saturday hunkered down in what should really be known as the University Ice Box. It doesn’t matter how hot it is outside, I always feel like I need an electric blanket in my office. Seriously, I keep “emergency clothes” in my office for the days when I just can’t take the cold no more (sing it with me: no more, no more, no more!). So after picking up our CSA share (as well as 15 pounds of peaches and a big ol’ bag of cucumbers), The Coach and I went to campus to work. Okay, well, The Coach might have worked more than I did. I wasted my time doing things like putting together recipes for a bridal shower, finding Kohlrabi recipes, and looking up canning information; renewing drivers’ licenses and car plates on the BMV; and writing a blog entry. Sometime in the late afternoon, I did get around to looking up journal information and writing a conference proposal (I’m not a total slack ass, after all).

We could not hide out in my office forever. You see, I had bought tickets for ROMP earlier in the month when it wasn’t so damned hot outside. Everyone had told me that Old Crow Medicine Show was awesome and The Coach and I both like the Carolina Chocolate Drops. So, we sucked it, loaded the cooler with water and Gatorade, and headed down to Owensboro. Fortunately, these two groups were the Saturday headliners so they were scheduled to perform after the sun when down. Unfortunately, the temperature was still in the triple digits at 8 p.m. I worked up a nasty sweat just sitting there listening to the music; by the time I walked down to the Port-a-Pots, my hair was a salty, wet mess.

This year’s ROMP shirt
I like the art, but I am not so keen on the gray shirt

Just seeing the Carolina Chocolate Drops was worth the misery of sitting out in the heat. At the risk of being shouted down by some of my friends, I contend that they are the most dynamic bluegrassy group out there – even better than the Punch Brothers and Old Crow Medicine Show. Rhiannon Giddens did this song that was in Scots Gaelic that was freakin’ amazing; to be honest, I’m not sure how she managed to carry it off in the heat because it seemed like she didn’t even stop to breathe. Plus, I like the fact that the show includes these little history lessons about traditional music. The group also seems to have chemistry; there’s a lot of give and take between the members and that just amuses me. [Here's a video: watch it]

Neo-Hippie Alert: I’ll probably lose my bluegrass fan card for saying this, but I didn’t really enjoy the last act of the night. I’m not sure if it was the group or the fact that a bunch of “neo-hippies” planted themselves right behind us. Everyone says Old Crow Medicine Show is one of the best acts out there, but I just couldn’t get into their music. At one point, they sang a song about methamphetamine, which would have been pretty good if it wasn’t about methamphetamine. That song, btw, is now stuck in my head.

I want to give OCMS the benefit of the doubt because part of the problem was the fact that the damned hippies were not watching their children. Now, I don’t want to sound like a curmudgeon that hates kids; I mean, we saw lots of well-behaved little ones at the festival. We were just unlucky enough to sit next to two unsupervised brats. They kept running around in front of us and between us and they were screeching at the top of their lungs – a high pitch squeal that would have made my dog cringe. At one point, they nearly ran into The Coach; another time, one of them let out a piercing shrill right in my ear. I really, really wanted to stick my foot out and trip them, but I figured that wasn’t really an appropriate response for a woman of my age and education. I settled for making snarky remarks and the guy next to me yelled at them, but it wasn’t until their uncle arrived that the kids finally disappeared.

Here’s a tip: If you are going to bring your kids, leave the pot at home.

Here’s another tip: When there’s a drought, don’t try to set the grass of fire when lighting up your Grass. Now, I can’t lay that one on the hippie family – oh no, this was the group of folks sitting right in front of me. I spent a good deal of time thinking about how we could put out a fire with the ice in our cooler. Definitely distracting.

The Coach was annoyed with the women who decided to dance right in front of him. Now, a friend of mine pointed out in a tweet that ROMP is a music festival and dancing will occur. The Coach, however, disagrees. He wants you to know that all dancers should have found their way to the Bluegrass Mosh Pit in front of the stage. Alternatively, they can make their way to the back of the crowd. Hell, they can dance anywhere except for right in front of him.

SPOILER ALERT >>>

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Hellmouth: 2012


2012
06.30

I am living on the Hellmouth, and I didn’t even have to move to Sunnydale.That’s right, folks: an honest to god, hell on earth, the apocalypse is coming soon Hellmouth. Now, I thought that last July’s heat wavewas all ‘brimstoney hot’ but apparently I was wrong. That was just Louisiana | Alabama summertime hot, transported to Indiana to remind me of my younger days. And, to be honest, last summer was more about the slimey humidity and heat indexes. This summer, however, is about the record breaking real numbers: 107 on both Thursday and Friday. Right now, at 1:10 in the afternoon, it’s already 104 — and we’ve smashed the record high for the third day in a row.

The all-time high for E’ville is 111 degrees…

… I’m keeping my fingers crossed that we don’t hit that number.

According to The Weather Channel, we’re looking at 100+ for Sunday, but then the temps will drop to double digits: 99 for Monday and Tuesday. Our chance for rain, however, will remain at less than 10 percent — so essentially, no rain anytime soon. We should be grateful for the dry heat, even though we are incredibly droughty and my grass is dead. Seriously, I picked the wrong summer to plant watermelon in the garden!

Evidence of my Gardening Prowess
Yep, that’s a watermelon growing in my backyard …
during the worst drought since the Dust Bowl Days.

On the plus side, the Mayor has banned the use of private fireworks until July 6. This makes me — and my critters — very, very happy. There’s some context for this — a few years back, the idiots across the street set their yard on fire, then stood around drinking beer until the fire department came. Seriously? They could have put the fire out with a garden hose. Those morons are now gone, but we still find spent bottle rockets and other firework paraphernalia in our driveway every July.

Beating the Heat with The Traveling Ph.D.

The Coach is a Yankee born-and-bred. Fortunately for him, he married a good ol’ Southern Magnolia — or at least, a gal who spent her formative years living in the south. I know heat — and I know how to beat it. So, let me tell you: the first thing you should do is turn that A/C up to 80 degrees. There’s simply no point in setting it lower than that: your A/C is just going to run all the damned time and you are going to pay out the butt for your electric bill. Plus, if your A/C is old or is simply too small for your house, running it like that is going to freeze the thing up — and then, quite frankly, you’ll be f*cked until the thing starts to work again.

Second, buy yourself some of those heat reflecting drapes. Sure, they are ugly as hell, but they actually work. You can ask The Coach: there is a noticable temperature differential between our living room (with the heat reflecting drapes) and our landing (which does not have heat reflecting drapes because I read the package wrong). The same is true upstairs: our bedroom (with drapes) is much cooler than my office (without drapes). You could also use aluminum foil — a trick I learned in Louisiana — but I probably wouldn’t put it on your front windows because that will just make your house look like you’re cooking meth or something equally trashy.

Third, treat yourself to a matinee at the movie theatre. Dark spaces, my friends, make for happy faces. The Coach and I did this on Thursday and we were, like, almost the only people in the place. Now, granted, it might have been our movie choice (I liked it, even though it was a rotten tomato), but the point is still valid. And, if you don’t want to go to the movies, why not go to the mall or a Starbucks or even your office where you can use someone else’s industrial strength A/C for free? But, you better bring a hoodie or something, because these places tend to be icy cold.

Fourth, go dunk yourself in some water. I know that our little pool is rednecky as hell and not very deep, but there is something very pleasant about being in your own backyard. For example, you can wear whatever you want without people judging you — and you don’t have to look at all the other people who are wearing things that they should not be wearing. Honestly people, haven’t you ever heard of skin cancer?

The Coach in our Redneck Riviera
Complete with saltwater filtration system

Now, I will admit that sometimes you want more than 33″ of water, so go to the city pool or a water park or something. That’s what we did on Friday: we loaded up our car and headed over to Holiday World. I know that some of my friends are annoyed with the Koch family’s politics — but when it’s over 100 degrees out, I just can’t bring myself to give a hoot. And, seriously, that place is a great value: free sunscreen, free drinks, free parking, clean bathrooms, and cheap food. It’s way better than any Six Flags I’ve been to. Of course, other folks are also going to be headed to a water park, so be prepared to deal with people who do not understand waterpark etiquette.

Finally, don’t turn on your oven or your dryer.  You’re just asking for a massive blast of heat if you do. Eat sandwiches and salads. Go out to eat. Eat ice cream for dinner. Use your grill. Oh, and I give you permission to let the laundry pile up. You can tell your mama I said so.

Holiday World’s Famous Turkey Leg
I didn’t have to turn on the oven!

Slightly Snarky Lessons in Water Park Etiquette

Since you might be going to a water park or pool to beat the heat, let me give you a few tips on how to behave in public — seeing how your mama may have forgotten to train you to act like a human being, okay?  

  1. Do not wear a bikini top in the wave pool. Seriously, you might think you are the best thing since sliced bread, but no one really wants to see your boobies poop out of that thing.
  2. I don’t care where you live, camouflage bikinis are not sexy … unless you are a hot military guy posing on the front of a calendar.
  3. Stay the {bleep} away from the barrier rope at the front of the wave pool. The lifeguards are going to blow their whistles and turn off the waves. That just sucks for everyone.
  4. You do not need three floats in the lazy river. Seriously, float hogs: you make it impossible for the rest of us to float gently along. 
  5. Short people are not invisible. Pay attention, damn it, or I might think about returning the favor of kicking you in the back.  

 

This is me.
Do I look invisible to you?
No, no I do not.

 

 

Days of Fun


2012
06.28

Otherwise known as:
The Traveling Ph.D.’s Broke A$$ Staycation Plan

Friday, June 29: Beat the heat by going to Holiday World

Saturday, June 30: Melt in the heat by going to ROMP

Sunday, July 1: Church picnic and bridal shower. Magic Mike, here we come!

Monday, July 2: The Great Canning Experiment Begins!

Tuesday, July 3: Day trippin’ to Louisville.

Wednesday, July 4: BBQ and Beer in the Backyard.

Thursday, July 5: Day trippin’ to Nashville.

Monday, July 9: Grrls Write Club.

Wednesday, July 11: James Taylor, the music of my childhood.