Bastille Day on 60th Street, New York, July 13, 2008

Yesterday I attended the Bastille Day celebrations on 60th Street in Manhattan. 60th Street is home to the New York branch of l'Alliance Francaise, the largest world language school in the United States. The FIAF has lots of cultural events, movies, and goodies to sell, in addition to language lessons.

The FIAF was selling tickets to a "Wine and Cheese" tasting all day, which took place in their building. By 3:00 they had crossed off the word "cheese" from their signs. Malheureusement, I did not purchase a ticket, since my tummy was full on a chocolate crepe and some pommes frites. These weren't as good as their Parisian counterparts (the crepe was made with HERSHEY SYRUP--or at least it tasted an awful lot like it!), but it was still a noble effort, and made me want to return to La Belle France in the worst way. Time to save my pennies!

Anyhoo, enjoy these pictures from the event. This was the first thing I saw when I got off the subway.

Crepe makers were the first chefs I saw when I stepped onto 60th Street. My mouth started watering--it had been years since I had a good chocolate crepe!

Here's my crepe in its finishing stages...

...and here's the finished product, une crepe a la americaine. For it to be authentically French, it would be served in paper and not on a plate.

There were lots of yummy pastries along the way.This could very well be one of the next books I read. I'm a foodie, and I speak French, so that would be perfect!

In addition to the great food, there were lots of beauty treatments along the way, such as mini facials.

Here are some more French goodies, made with monoi and tamanu oils. According to the brochure I got, Tahitian women use these oils for hair and skin ailments.

I saw this little French tea party set at one of the vendor booths.

At the end of 60th Street, right at the entrance to Central Park, there was a car show full of antique Citroens...

...and Peugeots. My mom had a friend who drove a model similar to this one.

No French street fair would be complete without a mime...

...or can-can dancers!

Passez Une Bonne Fete de la Bastille!!

Bonjour mes amis et francophiles! Ca veut dire, les personnes qui parlent et lisent le francais.

For those of you who aren't a part of the Francophone community, today, July 14th, is Bastille Day, the French independence day. This is their "Fete Nationale", or National Holiday. The French also refer to this day as "le quatorze juillet." Here's a primer for those who aren't familiar with this oh-so-French of holidays.

Back in 1789, King Louis XVI was the monarch of France. France was in the middle of a major financial crisis, and had a taxation system that favored the upper class, leaving the middle and lower classes with the majority of the debt. (Sound familiar, kids?)

On May 5, 1789, the Estates-General was called into session to deal with this issue. The Estates-General was a general assembly that consisted of three segments of the French population: the First Estate (clergy), the Second Estate (nobles), and the Third Estate (the middle classes, or as they were collectively known, "la bourgeoisie"). Members of the Third Estate carried the majority of the tax debt. The First and Second Estates represented merely 3% of the total French population.

Keep in mind that France, in 1789, was in the middle of a revolution. The French were inspired by their American friends and their success in 1776 that they decided to have one of their own, rebelling against high government spending, high food prices, and lots of debt. (This sounds so familiar!)

Back to the Estates-General. Each one of the Three Estates had their own grievances against the king, and the rules that were established for parliamentary procedure in 1614 were seriously outdated. The Third Estate, the largest one, wanted their group vote to count as much as those of the First and Second Estates. Long story short, the majority of the Estates-General meeting was more of a battle over which estate held the most power, as opposed to settling the tax issue. Eventually, the First and Second Estates got their way.

The Third Estate was so frustrated that on June 17, declared themselves independent of the Estates-General and formed a legislative group of their own: the Assemblee Nationale (National Assembly), which exists today as France's main legislative body. Members of the First and Second Estates were invited to be a part of the Assemblee, but the Assemblee made it clear that it would conduct business with or without them.

The main goal of the Assemblee Nationale was to create a national constitution. The King was none too thrilled about this latest development, but was forced to recognize the Assemblee's authority.

The bourgeoisie then started sporting rosettes in the tricolore: blue, white and red. This became a symbol of the Revolution, and is France's national flag today. They were getting a lot of support from their countrymen, which made Louis XVI furious.

And things started going downhill from there.

On July 11, the King dismissed his finance minister, Jacques Necker, who had been sympathetic to the needs of the Third Estate. When this news reached Paris, citizens were upset. Crowds started marching through the streets of Paris, brandishing busts of Necker and the King's son, the duc d'Orleans. At one point, they stormed the Hotel des Invalides to acquire weapons. But they needed more weapons, and decided to storm the Bastille, a prison, for its large quantities of ammunition.

At this point, there were only seven prisoners in the Bastille, and the government had decided to close it. However, many Frenchmen viewed it as a symbol of royal tyranny.

Here's an image of the Bastille. Negotiations for the ammunition started early in the morning and continued into the early afternoon. The crowd became impatient, and around 1:30, stormed the outer courtyard and began to fire. This continued for another four hours, and only then did the crowd go inside.

Parisians anticipated a counter-attack, and built themselves barricades of stones, and armed themselves with whatever weapons they could to defend themselves.

When news of this reached Verseilles, the King knew that he couldn't fight against the bourgeoisie anymore. He recalled Necker, withdrew troops from around Paris, and returned to the capital city.

That wasn't the end to the complex relationship between the King and his people, but I'll stop there. I've gone on long enough. Special thanks to Wikipedia for helping me out with the Bastille Day history. Meanwhile, enjoy these images from previous Bastille Day celebrations in Paris. I'll be back later today with pics of a Bastille Day street fair I attended in New York yesterday.

Au revoir!

And the Icon Is...

If you read my previous post about my jaunt to Camden Yards, I posed a trivia question at the end. In case you didn't read it, let me repeat the question: Esskay Meats, one of the sponsors of the Orioles, also sponsored a five-minute kiddie show on WRC-TV in Washington DC in the late 1950s and early 1960s. One of the stars of this show went on to become a major international icon. Who is it?

If you guessed Kermit the Frog, you are correct, sir!

Jim Henson got his start by producing the show "Sam and Friends" as a five-minute program on WRC-TV. Here is one of those episodes, starring Kermit and a couple of other characters. There is a live Esskay ad at the end.

Enjoy!

A Visit to Birdland: Baltimore Orioles, July 2, 2008

Exactly one week after I paid my New Britain Rock Cats a visit, I found myself in Oriole Park at Camden Yards for a game between the O's and the Kansas City Royals.

You can tell that Baltimore is really proud of its team. The ballpark is almost smack dab in the middle of downtown, not far from the Inner Harbor. The streets around Camden Yards are full of stores and restaurants like this one:

There is so much detail in the planning and design of the park. Take a look at the Eutaw Street gates. All of the gates around the ballpark are like this one, with the orioles facing one another. I just thought it was a neat little detail that made you feel like you were at an old-fashioned ballpark (which was exactly what the designers of Oriole Park at Camden Yards were going after).

Here are some more examples of the thoughtfulness and care that went into the design of this ballpark. Here's one of the seats. The original logo of the first Baltimore baseball team is built into the seat.

Signs like this one were posted all over the stands. We didn't have to worry about batted balls in our left field section, at least not in this game. By the way, that oriole you see? It's taken from the logo from the 1983 team, the last Baltimore team to win a World Series.

Here's a wide shot of the outfield, with a great view of the old B&O warehouse behind right field. The warehouse now houses restaurants, team offices, and some apartments.

This was my favorite feature of the jumbotron--the Baltimore Sun clock and logo right above it. It added a really classy element to the ballpark. The orioles you see on either side of the clock are weathervanes, and they kept spinning in the breeze all night.

Here's a shot from where I was sitting, right above left field:

PLAY BALL!!!

Here's a better shot of the action:

And here are two O's outfielders, warming up before the inning starts:
And how did the O's do that night?
It was an incredible game. The pitcher, Daniel Cabrera, had pitched a complete game. He went 0-3 in the month of June, with a 7.06 ERA, and really needed this win. He retired 14 straight batters between the fourth and eighth innings.

And that's not all! Aubrey Huff hit a two-run homer in the bottom of the first. Nick Markakis had an RBI double. I'm pretty sure there was a triple somewhere in there, but orioles.com didn't have that listed in the game's recap (which helped me tremendously in reviewing the game's stats.) And what a feeling it was to hear "Orioles Magic" play in the stands as the crowds left the ballpark.

That game left me a fan of Orioles baseball. They're not quite up there with my love for the Mets yet, but they'll get there. (Remember, the O's played the "Miracle Mets" in the 1969 World Series--and no Met fan who was alive then will ever forget that year. Me? I'll always remember the '86 Series. I was alive then).

Finally, I leave you with this photo. Take a look at the Esskay Meats logo to the left of the scoreboard. Between innings, Esskay sponsored a "hot dog race" on the jumbotron, a computer-animated race between Mustard, Ketchup, and Relish hot dogs. Three hot dogs, each with their condiment of choice, ran, or should I say, bounced around the bases. The first hot dog to completely circle the bases was the winner--and tonight it was relish.

I mention this because Esskay, back in the late 1950s and early 1960s, sponsored a brief, five-minute kids show on WRC-TV in Washington, DC. One of its stars went on to become a major international icon.

Who is this superstar? Find out in the next post!

Ms. Kitten and Mr. Roosevelt

While I was walking along the Tidal Basin, I came across the FDR memorial, a memorial that was long overdue in Washington, but well worth the wait.

The memorial is divided up into five "rooms", four representing a term of FDR's presidency, and a "Prologue Room." The Prologue Room starts with the presidential seal, with the first year of his tenure in office, 1933, carved below it:


Then we are introduced to the man himself. President Roosevelt had polio, and was wheelchair-bound for the duration of his term.


For some reason I never took pictures in Room One, but I took a few in Room Two. In Room Two, sculptures depict some of the hardships of the times. This first sculpture depicts a man listening to one of FDR's Fireside Chats on the radio.


This next one, and the one that follows, symbolize the poverty and unemployment of the times. The quotes in the walls, which didn't come out well in the photos, talk about some of the New Deal Programs like the Works Progress Administration, which helped the unemployed find jobs.



These relief sculptures are supposed to depict some of the conditions that inspired FDR to create his New Deal programs. Unfortunately, you can't see too much detail in the photos, and I haven't figured out how to "click and enlarge" for detail. (Jane Redmont is an expert at that in her blog.)


One of the organizations that FDR created under the New Deal was the Tennessee Valley Authority (TVA). The TVA created many jobs for a region hit particularly hard by the Depression. A large series of dams and a few fossil fuel plants were built provide electricity and flood control to the citizens of Tennessee and some parts of Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Kentucky. This water sculpture, one of many in the memorial, symbolizes the creation of the TVA.


Room Three has a marvelous sculpture of FDR and his beloved dog, Fala.

There's another terrific water sculpture adjacent to FDR and Fala. These water sculptures, according to the brochure supplied by the National Park Service, are meant to give the memorial more of a relaxed garden feel, as opposed to a monstrous building.

Room Four begins with a statue of First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, which honors her work with the United Nations and human rights issues.

The monument ends with a sculpture of FDR's funeral cortege, which hangs in a small alcove just before you walk out.

This was a truly beautiful monument, and there really is nothing like it in Washington. You really get a feeling of peace as you walk through it, and you don't feel intimidated by imposing sculptures. While I was there, many tourists took the opportunity to pose for pictures of themselves sitting with FDR and Fala. And this memorial is adjacent to the Tidal Basin and the cherry trees; I can only imagine how beautiful it must be in the spring.

I think this has replaced the Lincoln Memorial as my favorite monument in Washington.

A Beachy, Beautiful Weekend

I have just spent two glorious days on the beach--two separate beaches, that is. I cannot remember the last time I spent two consecutive days on a beach. Needless to say, this is the first time I have sunburn in a long time--even though I lathered up with the SPF 45. Still, it was all worth it. Yesterday I spent some time with some girlfriends from work, and it was great to spend time with those gals. Then I got to spend more time with some girlfriends at book club, where we discussed The Devil in the White City. One of our members brought us each bags of Cracker Jack, since this confection was invented at the World Columbian Exposition in 1893.

At book club, most of us agreed that The Devil in the White City was not one of those books you could really get into and plow through; there were so many facts, you had to read a little, pause, and take some time to absorb what you had just read. Many said that the print in the book made it hard to read, it was so small. (As the book club's youngest member, I didn't have a problem reading the print).

Then today, I spent the first half of the day at Ocean Beach Park in New London, a return to my old stomping grounds. I discovered that Ocean Beach was just as nice as it was when I left, if not nicer. They're sprucing up and rebuilding the boardwalk and raising funds to renovate the arcade and the Sandbar Cafe. I wish I had taken pictures, but it felt so good to just relax in the sand. The one bummer, however, were the sporadic jellyfish that were in the water, a feature which is not all that common to Ocean Beach (at least the times I've been there).

From Ocean Beach, around 2 PM I headed to Sailfest. I stayed there for about two hours, then returned home, bummed that I didn't feel like staying for the fireworks. To be truthful, there were many Sailfest veterans who had come prepared to stay for the fireworks: they set up camp along the City Pier during the wee hours of the morning. They arrived with their beach chairs, food, and even pup tents to take naps.

And Sailfest organizers were prepared for these people! They took blue painter's tape and they taped a line along the center of the pier! Signs were posted that directed people to put their beach chairs, blankets, and pup tents at the waterfront side of the pier. Safety first, according to the signs!

And I especially wasn't prepared for the parking situation. New London is a city with an area of only six--that's right, six--square miles. There were areas with very limited parking, and it wasn't cheap. I parked in the cheapest lot, at $7.00, which was also the lot farthest away from the action. And I was wearing my flip flops from the beach, not the wisest choice of footwear. (My blisters from last week have healed, but now my left heel is bothering me beaucoup). These lots were actually the parking lots of various corporate buildings around the area, and they charged between $10 and $25 for parking.

I had gotten there at 2 so I could hang out for a while, then drive to Mystic for a while to spend some time there before returning at 6 to secure a place for the fireworks. However, the combo of expensive parking, sore feet, and crowds led me to return home. I know I could have caught the fireworks from Conn College or the Crystal Mall, but I didn't have much to occupy myself for the hours in between. That, and I was by myself, so it wasn't like I could ask someone to hold my place for me.

So, now I have experienced two occasions coming so close to seeing live fireworks, but barely missing out. I watched the DC fireworks from my hotel room, but could hear them, in full stereo, because my hotel was a couple of miles away from the Mall. I am bummed...but determined to see fireworks sometime this year!

Still, I've gotten more time at the beach this summer than I did last summer...and that makes me feel pretty good. :)

The New Symbol of Our Nation's Capital

Everyone who went to DC for our convention was amazed at the sheer number of Starbucks stores on every block. There must have been at least three or four within walking distance of our hotel.

I was originally going to go as far as saying that the double-finned mermaid was our new national symbol, but that would be going too far.

Ironically, on July 1st, the second day of my stay, Starbucks announced it would close 600 stores across the country by the end of the year. I'll bet you that 1/5 of those stores will be in DC and NYC.

Ms. Kitten and Mr. Jefferson

Call me crazy, but the one monument I absolutely, positively had to visit during my sojourn in DC was the Jefferson Memorial. Why was I so desperate to visit this tribute to one of the authors of the Declaration of Independence? Let's take a trip back in time, kids...

November, 1997. The first semester of my senior year of college. I was a member of the Fairfield University Glee Club, one of the premier singing organizations on the eastern seaboard. (OK, I may be a bit biased, but our concerts were always sold out). Anyhoo, a group of us decided to go out to dinner, then do the nighttime monument tour. We did the Capitol, then proceeded up the National Mall to the Washington Monument and then to the Lincoln Memorial.

Once we saw the Lincoln Memorial, two of my girlfriends and I wanted to see the Jefferson Memorial, but the rest of our group did not. So the three of us separated and went to find it, visit it, then take the Metro back to our hotel.

Normally, the Jefferson Memorial is lit up like this at night:

But on this night, we couldn't find it, and we didn't know why. We had no map, no sense of direction, and no idea how dangerous it was for three young women to be out by themselves at night in Washington DC. And we had a concert the following morning, and had to be out of the hotel by 10 AM.

Long story short, after crossing a couple of bridges and following the shores of what we thought was the Tidal Basin, we found the Jefferson Memorial--unlit, and under a lot of scaffolding. There was a small sign next to it: "Under Renovations." Disappointed, we started to head back--but since there were no lights anywhere, we had no way of retracing our steps.

One of us looked up and saw a highway, and suggested that we follow it, under the theory that it was the Beltway. So we kept walking, keeping an eye on this highway at a distance, using it as our North Star. We kept getting lost.

Then we came across a truck in the middle of the park. There wasn't a soul around. All of a sudden a spotlight came on, and we heard a deep voice: "Got a toke?"

The three of us ran faster than we ever did, until we found a street. By this time it was well after midnight. We soon learned that none of us had enough money for a cab, and we didn't know which Metro stop to take to our hotel. All we knew was that our hotel was on O Street.

Fortunately, Washington DC is a well-planned city. We figured we'd walk up the streets, and if the streets went up in alphabetical order, we'd eventually wind up at O Street. And that's exactly what we did.

We wound up back in our hotel at 3 AM. The next morning two of us went to Starbucks and reflected on the night before. The other slept in.

Eleven years later, I made it my mission to go to the Jefferson Memorial and pay my proper respects to good ole Tom. And I made it my mission to go during the daytime. (I was with five other people when I took the nighttime picture above, not to worry).

So I walked from the Lincoln Memorial to the Jefferson Memorial. It looks like a quick walk on a map, but it really isn't. I got some really pretty photos along the way:

It was a long walk, and I wasn't wearing the proper footwear, and the blisters are still healing. But it was worth it, I tell you, worth it for all of the awesome shots I got. (I have a few more, but I won't bore you with them, since they all look similar).

Along the way, I found out that the FDR Memorial was near the Jefferson Memorial, so I figured, while I was there, I'll pay my respects to him as well. And that, my friends, is for another post.

P.S. I didn't go anywhere near O Street during this past trip. There were some memories I didn't want to relive--like that long walk back to our hotel that ended at 3 AM. I don't even remember the hotel's name.

SkyMall fun!

Today, while at the beach, one of my friends and I discussed the pure entertainment pleasure that is SkyMall, the airline catalog full of items that you can't imagine that people would buy, no less invent. I do not know a single person who has ordered anything from SkyMall, or rather, would admit to ordering anything from SkyMall.

Anyhoo, I was at a dearth of reading material on my flight home from DC. I was too tired to start a new book, had read my magazines to death, and was sick of doing crossword puzzles. (You know it's been a long day at the airport when I'm sick of doing crossword puzzles). Fortunately, the latest SkyMall was in the pocket in front of me. I opened it up and started to peruse through it--and soon found myself laughing.

Take this first item, the Dough-Nu-Matic. For just $130, it "forms, fries, and drains delectable mini donuts in just 50 seconds!"

Hang on, kids, it gets better. For under $200, you can purchase a machine that makes margaritas--and only margaritas. Whatever happened to all purpose machines?

SkyMall seems to be the largest carrier of Hammacher Schlemmer products in the world. Here is one of them, the travel toothbrush sanitizer.

Finally, here is my favorite category of SkyMall products: the one devoted to pets. Here's one of my favorites, a cabinet that you can use to discreetly disguise your cat's litter box:

And here's another one, which is so much funnier: a litter box disguised as a plant.

Want more SkyMall fun? Check out http://www.skymall.com/.

Friday Cat Blogging

Taken nearly four years ago, but it's still adorable. Gabby decides to visit the local spa, AKA my bathroom:

Ms. Kitten and Mr. Lincoln

Out of all of the monuments and memorials in DC, the Lincoln Memorial is my favorite. If you think it resembles a Greek temple, you have good reason: it was designed to look like one.

Regardless of the angle from which you approach the Lincoln Memorial, it looks majestic, imposing, amazing...a grand tribute to a grand man.

I love the Lincoln Memorial for all of the symbolism in its design. There are 36 columns around the building, each representing one of the states that was in the Union upon Lincoln's death. The names of these states are carved directly above each column. The names of the 48 states in the Union when the Memorial was completed in 1922 are carved in the exterior attic walls. A plaque in the plaza commemorates the admission of Alaska and Hawaii.

Photographs do not do this monument justice. It looks even more spectacular from the air, as you approach landing at Reagan Airport.

Here's a view of the Washington Monument and the Reflecting Pool from the top of the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

And here's Honest Abe himself. Legend has it that the sculpture's designer, Daniel Chester Finch, designed it so that Lincoln's left hand would sign the ASL letter A, and his right hand would sign the ASL letter L. The close-up of the statue in the brochure at the Lincoln Memorial seems to indicate this, but no one knows if this was done on purpose.

Legend also has it that Robert E. Lee's image is carved into Lincoln's right profile view, but I haven't been able to see a good photo of this to judge for myself.

So much has happened at the Lincoln Memorial. Marian Anderson once sang there. It was the spot from where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his "I Have a Dream" speech (a spot that is marked permanently in the steps now). A drum corps band played there this past July 4th.

Sadly, I didn't get to visit this majestic spot at night, when it is at its most regal and splendid. That is for my next trip to DC, to take a nighttime monument tour. I hope I get to go back soon.

The Education of Kitten

A while ago, when I was on one of my jaunts to Borders, I found this book on clearance:

I bought it because I wanted to read it to see how smart, or how dumb, I really am.

I consider myself a pretty educated person; I graduated college with two majors (but only one BA; Fairfield would only let you have a BA for your first declared major), I have an MA, and 30 credits beyond it. I speak three languages and am currently learning a fourth. And I have only lost one Trivial Pursuit game in five or six years. (Every New Year's Eve, my friend Dom and I team up and completely obliterate the competition. It's become a tradition that Dom and I love, but our friends...not so much).

Anyway, I also own The New Dictionary of Cultural Literacy, and I figured, between the two volumes, I could see how good my education really is.

An Incomplete Education is currently in its third edition. The first chapter deals with American Studies. The first section of the chapter concerns "American Literature 101: A First Semester Syllabus".

First author: Jonathan Edwards. Never heard of him, never read him.

Next, Benjamin Franklin. According to the book, I should have read the Declaration of Independence in high school; I did, in American History class. I already knew that he invented bifocals, the lightening rod, and, since I live in Connecticut, the first insurance company. According to the book, I should have learned, when I was in college, that Franklin "had as many detractors as admirers, for whom his shrewdness, pettiness, hypocrisy, and nonstop philandering embodied all the worst traits of the American character, of American capitalism, and of the Protestant ethic." (p. 7) I did not take any American history or literature classes in college, so I did not learn this at all.

Third author: Washington Irving. My mother's family is from Tarrytown. Nuff said.

James Fenimore Cooper: Never read any of his works.

Ralph Waldo Emerson: Read some excerpts of his works in high school, but can't remember which ones. We touched upon the Transcendentalist movement, but spent more time on Thoreau and read, and discussed, a larger excerpt of Walden.

Nathaniel Hawthorne: Read The Scarlet Letter in high school. Hated it.

Edgar Allan Poe: Had to memorize "The Raven" in high school. Read "The Tell-Tale Heart" and "The Pit and the Pendulum" as a seventh grader. We saw the short plays of Poe's work at the Bushnell that same year. The Bushnell, and various other theatres in the area, still present such works to schoolchildren.

Harriet Beecher Stowe: We learned about her in a unit about Connecticut authors; I can't remember how old I was. I tried to read Uncle Tom's Cabin as an eighth grader, on my own, and couldn't get past page 20. I'm sure I can finish it now.

Henry David Thoreau: See Ralph Waldo Emerson. Do all Transcendentalist authors have three names?

Herman Melville: We never read Moby Dick in high school. According to the book, Billy Budd was supposed to be an extra-credit assignment. We read that instead of Moby Dick, and not for extra credit!

Mark Twain: My second grade teacher read us "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County" as part of a unit on Mark Twain, right before we visited the Mark Twain House. Read excerpts of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer in high school, but never the whole books.

Seems like I'm doing OK so far in terms of American authors...but just OK. I give myself a C+ on my familiarity with their works. Now let's see how well I do in American poetry:

Ezra Pound: Never read any of his works. I've heard of him, though.

T.S. Eliot: I honestly thought he was British, I really did. "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" remains one of the most bizarre poems I've ever read.

William Carlos Williams: See Ezra Pound. I've heard of him.

Robert Frost: I had to memorize "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening" for the same English teacher who made us memorize "The Raven."

Wallace Stevens: I should know more about him than I already do. After all, he was a Hartford insurance executive.

The book then lists the "five runners-up" of Great American Poetry, among which is e.e. cummings. You mean to tell me e.e. cummings is NOT among the top five?!?! He's the poet I remember the best! (But then again, it's mainly because of his distrust of punctuation and capitalization).

e.e. cummings is the only poet of the five runners-up I've even heard of. I've never heard of Marianne Moore, John Crowe Ransom, Hart Crane, and Robert Lowell.

My C+ has been downgraded to a C...and I have a feeling it's only going to get lower...

Yesterday at the doctor's office...

...I was reading an issue of Redbook while waiting for the good doc when I came across an article on this new children's book:

This book, written by a plastic surgeon, is designed to help mothers explain their plastic surgery choices to their children. It gives moms guidance as to why their tummies are flatter and why their busts are...well, perkier.

The author, Dr. Michael Saltzhauer, says that there was a market for this book, as more and more women are getting "mommy makeovers." (Hell, there was even a "Mommy Makeover" segment on the 10:00 hour of Today yesterday).

My immediate reaction to this was, "Are you kidding me?!?!" There are plenty of parenting advice books out there dealing with all sorts of issues, but is a book like this really necessary? I don't think that a book like this is sending the right kind of message.

For example, look at the cover. "Mommy" has a nice, perky bust and a flat tummy, and a slim figure. She's got pixie dust swirling all around her. The kid is ecstatic to see her. Was the kid just as ecstatic to see Mommy with saggy boobs and a paunchy belly? This is clearly sending the message that external beauty is what matters in society.

And I'm not alone; there are many critics who are questioning the values of this book. This article from News.com.au is a brief summary of the book, with an interview with the author, as well as critiques from a feminist and another plastic surgeon. If you'd like other info on this book, just Google "My Beautiful Mommy book" and see what you come up with. I'm surprised I haven't seen it on TV yet.

As for the Redbook article, I didn't get to finish it. That's when the doctor decided to see me.

Every time I get into interesting reads at the doctor's office, I'm always called in.

Maybe I should start reading the phone book when I go to the doctor's.

Upcoming Travels

Friday, July 11: Beach Day with some friends from work, followed by my book club

Saturday, July 12: Sailfest in New London, followed by live fireworks along the Thames

Sunday, July 13: Bastille Day celebration in New York, on 60th Street and Lexington Avenue

Wednesday, July 16: Wadsworth Mansion concert

Saturday, July 19: Art Farm performance of "Twelfth Night" at Middlesex Community College

Wednesday, July 23: Wadsworth Mansion concert

Sometime in August: "Sing, Virgie, Sing" at the Little Theatre of Manchester (I say this because I'm not sure what performance I'm attending)

And then, in late August...back to school.

Still, this summer has been filled with so much opportunity so far, school may just feel like a vacation! I myself can't believe it's already Thursday; this week has gone by so much faster than my week in DC did! (And I did much more in DC than I did this week!)

Happily, this summer has been more more pleasant--and filled with much more activity--than last summer. I am much happier.

No wonder I haven't had time to sleep! Hell, I haven't had time to read lately, which is why you haven't seen many book-related posts. Not to worry, you will soon...:)

Kitten Confessions

I know that I have promised posts on DC and on the virtues of Borders versus Barnes and Noble, but...

1. I haven't loaded my DC pics on my computer yet, and
2. This was more important for me to get off my chest.

I had plans tonight to go to a concert at the Wadsworth Mansion tonight, and I was planning to be home by 9 PM. In fact, I had to be home by 9 PM to watch a TV that I had to watch. (Yeah, I know, you're thinking, "Tivo!" Well, I don't have Tivo, and having a DVR would mean another $20 on my monthly cable bill).

Now, I have a pretty full life, and there aren't many--hell, there aren't any--shows that are prime appointment viewing in the Bookkitten household.

Except for this one--the American Masters edition on Carol Burnett, which I missed when it had originally aired last November.

I missed the concert because I took a longer-than-usual catnap and woke up at the time the concert began. After briefly cursing myself for my laziness, I perked up, knowing that I didn't have to rush home for the PBS special I had so looked forward to seeing for months. And I felt really guilty that I had to be home just in time for a TV show. Really gulity--OK, maybe not that much.

Was it worth the wait? Yes...and no. This show was chock full of clips from The Carol Burnett Show and The Garry Moore Show that haven't been seen in years, quite possibly since their original air date. That alone made this American Masters presentation worth every minute. There was Harvey Korman, in his last television appearance--and sadly, you could tell that the poor man was in ill health. But he managed to pull it together for this special. And Lyle Waggoner was interviewed--and he is still very handsome. :)

I didn't like that this documentary didn't chronicle too much about Carol's family, which has been a tremendous part of her story for years. It just seemed to gloss over her family tragedies and tribulations, especially the parts that had to do with her early childhood. It barely touched upon her divorce from Joe Hamilton, but did acknowledge his influence on her career.

The special didn't even touch upon Burnett's career post-Carol Burnett Show. In the 80s, Carol did many TV guest appearances, several TV movies, and even a couple of theatrical roles. (Miss Hannigan, anyone?) And in the 90s, she made a couple of Broadway appearances in Moon Over Buffalo and Putting it Together. It mostly concentrated on her career up to, but not past, The Carol Burnett Show. It did include portions of the last episode of the show, which I admired.

Towards the end of the show, Lyle Waggoner admitted that he gets choked up every time he hears the lyrics, "I'm so glad we had this time together..."

Well, Lyle, so do I.

Unfortunately, The Carol Burnett Show is no longer in syndication, so I can't catch her on a daily basis. Fortunately for me, there's YouTube, and I've caught what I can off the Internet. Still, when the DVDs are back in production, you can bet I'll be the first in line to purchase them!

And I won't have to miss a Wadsworth Mansion concert to do so.

Modern Library Publishes Centennial Version of Anne of Green Gables

Just found this article on Slate. The Modern Library is publishing a centennial edition of Anne of Green Gables, which, as you all know, is one of my all-time favorite books.

The article has a well-written critique of the Anne series, including Anne's place in early-20th century feminism.

Take a look at it when you get a chance. Meanwhile, I'm off to Borders.com to try and locate the Modern Library edition. And if I can't find it there, I'll go to BarnesandNoble.com out of desperation.

Which reminds me, I haven't yet posted my treatise on Borders versus Barnes and Noble...

That'll be the next post.

Whoever said that getting there was half the fun...

Let me start this by saying that I LOVE air travel. I have never had a problem with it. I get a rush whenever I step through the doors of an airport. I love sitting by the window of a plane (I always request a window seat) and watching the layers of clouds below me. I love looking for area landmarks, and wondering what people are doing in the houses below. I love flying by the highways, their ribbons of concrete snaking through the landscape, and looking for the cloverleaf ramps.


That having been said, flying to DC was somewhat stressful.

It started when I slept over at my parents' house the night before my flight. I brought the cats and their equipment with me, since Grandma and Grandpa were going to watch over my babies during my sojourn. I hardly slept at all; the cats were out of their element, being in a new environment, and they crawled all over me and hissed at each other all night long. That, and a really severe thunderstorm decided to hang out over my old bedroom; things were so bad during the storm my parents thought that lightning struck another tree in the backyard.

Needless to say, lack of sleep + flying all day = very bad mood.


I flew out June 30th, on a 6 AM flight from Bradley connecting to JFK, then flying from JFK to Baltimore at 9 AM. (I know now I could have gotten a direct flight to Baltimore via the airlines. I am never booking a flight through Priceline again). Anyway, the flight to JFK was quick, and I got to JFK ahead of schedule. I walked over to my gate, grabbed some breakfast on the way, and settled in. I worked on a couple of crossword puzzles, finished breakfast, and took a quick nap.


This is where the fun really begins.



I was awakened by a Delta agent, yelling at the top of his lungs, "All passengers to Baltimore, this way!" A little crowd soon gathered around him. He informed us that our flight was canceled due to the fact that the one flight attendant scheduled to fly with us did not come in to work. He said that they were arranging a shuttle to take us to LaGuardia, where we could catch a flight to Reagan National Airport in DC, instead of going to Baltimore.


Convenient for me, not so much for the others on my flight. There were a lot of upset passengers, especially one who had to stay over two nights due to bad weather.
So off we went to the shuttle transportation area, and we waited...and waited...and waited. Three Delta buses drove past us without stopping. Finally, a Delta agent arranged a private van to pick up some passengers, and I managed to be the last one to go on it.


It was an interesting drive to LaGuardia, passing by decaying monuments of the 1939 World's Fair, then Shea Stadium's electric blue exterior, with Citi Field going up next door. We were in the left lane, tailgating a Cadillac from Pennsylvania going less than 40 miles an hour, when the rest of the cars in rush hour traffic were doing 50. My mood kept getting worse.

Finally, we were at LaGuardia, where we were shuttled to the old Marine Air Terminal, the oldest, I think, of all of the terminals at the airport.



As we drove to the Marine Air Terminal, I couldn't help but notice LaGuardia's street signs, whose logos are based on that of the old control tower at the airport. Take a gander at this photo:

Is it me, or does the old control tower at LaGuardia look like a hybrid between a martini shaker and a cheese grater? The affect looks worse on the logo itself! (I couldn't find a picture of the logo online, so I apologize).

So we get to the Marine Air Terminal, I get my new boarding passes, and arrive at the gate to discover two things:

1. There's open seating on the flights to Reagan, because...
2. They depart every hour on the half hour.

I was just a wee bit upset when I learned that I didn't have to rush quite that much. That, and I could choose my own seat.

But I still had to wait some more. And finally, I got on the plane. We were actually served food--whole wheat crackers, baby carrots, and ranch dip. Impressive because it was food on a 45-minute flight, and because it was somewhat healthy. They still don't give you the whole can of soda or juice, though.

Finally, we approach Reagan Airport. The way the plane turns to land, you think you're gonna crash into the Potomac. However, you get the most amazing, crystal clear, picture perfect view of the National Mall, the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, the Washington Monument, and the Capitol. I so regret not having my camera out, but it would have gone by in a split second.

Fortunately for me, DCA is on the Metro. I bought my ticket and boarded to head to my hotel. When I left the Metro at my station, however, I did not realize that you have to insert your ticket into the turnstiles upon exiting. (Yes, unlike the New York subway, there's an exitfare on the DC Metro). I couldn't jump the turnstiles with a suitcase, so I went to a patrolman and explained the situation. He started to laugh and asked, "You're from New York, aren't you?"

Well, I'm from Connecticut, but close enough.

He said he'd let me go "this one time!"

I got upstairs and went to find my bearings. My hotel was normally a five-minute walk from the Foggy Bottom-GWU Metro station, but with luggage, it's about 15 minutes. And on a hot day with luggage, it's about 20 minutes. This was probably the must frustrating portion of my journey to DC.

When I finally arrived at the hotel, all I wanted to do was check in, take a shower, and then a nap. However, it was 2 PM and check-in wasn't until 4 PM. So I did what any woman would do in such a situation: I flirted and begged with the lone guy behind the front desk.

"Oh yes, miss, we do have a room available for you."

YAY!

"In fact, we're going to upgrade you to a deluxe king with a balcony facing the courtyard."

CHA-CHING!!!

So I schlepped my bags to my room--of course, it was one of the ones farthest from the elevator--flopped on the bed, and contemplated my next move. I would definitely have to shower. And after I did, there was time to do a little sightseeing.

And that, my dears, is for my next post!

A Capital Time in Our Capital City

Greetings!

Just a quick note to say hello and let y'all know that I'm back in CT. I'm staying at my parents' house tonight, which is a 15 minute drive from Bradley, and am returning to my lair sometime late tomorrow morning or afternoon.

I had a great time in Washington DC, or "the District" as the local news affiliates down there refer to it. I personally prefer DC. I have some stories to share with you all, once I'm back home, have done my laundry, and have engaged in "re-entry" mode.

I'll chat with you soon!