An afternoon with the masters
EVER SINCE I WAS ASSIGNED a report on Mary Cassatt in French class back in high school, I've had a soft spot in my heart for her art work. In discovering Cassatt, I also discovered the wonderful world of impressionism. It was like seeing art for the first time. The vivid colors and soft lines seemed like they were lifted right off the pages of a fairy tale and the often tender subject matters spoke the romantic in me. As cynical as I've become, looking at impressionism reverts me back to the young innocent I used to be.
In the passing years, one of the first things I ask when entering a new art gallery is, "Where are the Cassatts?" Most of the time I'm out of luck. Usually, Cassatt's work is found only in the larger museums. (Imagine my intense disappointment when I asked in the Art Institute of Chicago, where I knew there were some I'd never seen, only to be told that they had all been taken down for a traveling show on women artists, but more on that later.)
I've known for sometime that the Sterling and Francine Clark Art Institute, in Williamstown, Mass., has a few Cassatts, but it had never worked out for me to make it there. Either the weather was bad or the plans I made with family/friends fell through.
Megan went up there last week on her day off and said I had to go. Not only did they have the Cassatts but admission currently is free (from November 1 to May 31).
Last Saturday, I had the afternoon free and decided I'd better go while it was still fresh on my mind.
The Clark is relatively small, but the work it houses is important, things I've known and seen reproduced in books, shops and classrooms.
There are two Mary Cassatt pastels. But what I was the most excited to see was her "Offering the Panale to the Bullfighter" (follow the link and click next button until you find it, it should be about the third one in), one that I've counted as a favorite for years, I just didn't know where it was. (She studied in Spain before France and was known for her matadors.)
Side note: While we were in the American wing at the Art Institute in Chicago, I spied a matador painting around a corner and jumped up and down. "Mom, it's a Mary Cassatt I've never seen before!" She didn't believe me, thinking I was making it up about her having studied in Spain. When we finally go there (I wasn't allowed to go ahead to be sure), I was right! They must have missed this one for the traveling show. After being told I wouldn't see any, this was like a Christmas present in July.
Edgar Degas is also a favorite. I've seen his "Little Dancer Aged Fourteen" reproduced and always liked it. It, too, is at the Clark. I was relieved to see that the dancer's face is much sweeter in person.
Other highlights for me included Winslow Homer, Paul Revere silver and more Pierre-Auguste Renoir than I've ever seen in one place before.
In short, if you want to see a good collection of master work but don't want to go to a major city, go the Clark. Heck, I say go the Clark anyway. This is one of the best museums think I've ever been to.
Now I can check one more museum off the "I've wanted to go there for years but never gotten around to it" list. Add one more to the "Favorite places on earth" list.
|
|
Better late than never
WAY BACK IN OCTOBER, I promised my next blog entry would be about a Columbia County museum. Here it is more than three months later and I'm just now getting around to posting an update. I apologize for the delay and thank Megan for keeping on me until I finally did this.
I've mentioned that Megan works at a local museum, the FASNY Museum of Firefighting in Hudson. In October, the museum held its second annual Dalmatian Day, a family-oriented day focusing on Dalmatians and fire safety and prevention.
I took a young friend in 2007 and Megan asked me if I'd volunteer in 2008. I would be asked to work the welcome table with Megan and read the book Dot the Firedog during story time.
I had a good time at Dalmatian Day. The museum itself is interesting, especially if you have an interest in firefighting history.
Exhibits include vintage trucks and antique horse-drawn carriages, badges, tools and a history of New York State firefighting.
My favorite artifact is a letter written to a Civil War soldier's mother. The soldier fell and his buddy found his volunteer firefighter's badge on him and returned it to his mother.
Last year, the museum opened a new 9/11 exhibit. While it isn't as comprehensive as other 9/11 exhibits I've seen, it is still awesome, including the FDNY Dream Bike. The Dream Bike was bought two weeks before the attacks by Gerard Baptiste, a firefighter who died September 11. He had plans to restore the bike and survivors of Ladder 9 restored it in his memory.
The museum is free and open everyday except Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas.
The last autumn hurrah
ON THE LAST SEMI-DECENT DAY OF THE FALL, Megan and I took a picnic lunch to Catskill Pointe and then headed over to Thomas Cole's house, Cedar Grove.
Cole is regarded as the founder of the Hudson River School of art. Unlike other houses, the tour guide doesn't assume you know anything about Cole and starts at the beginning. While a diehard fan of Cole may find this redundant, I found it helpful, since I wasn't all that familiar with Cole and had limited knowledge of the Hudson River School.
The house is great, fully restored with some of his work. It even includes his studio, but I found his house to be the most intriguing.
I enjoyed engravings of his work, "The Voyage of Life".
Unfortunately, we were there the last weekend of operation for the season. The site is open the first Saturday in May through the last Sunday in October. Tours are Thursday through Sunday, 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. (the last tour leaves 3 p.m.). Tours are also available other times by appointment.
Mini-vacation
THE DECEMBER 11-12 ICE STORM produced one good thing: a mini-vacation for Amy and her cats. The power at my place went out late that night and didn't come back on for eight days. A generator was finally obtained after a few days but in the meantime, I had to find a place to take two cranky and cold cats.
Megan very kindly offered to let us bunk with her. (Thanks again, Megan. To quote Annie from the movie Speed, you are a good, kind person. One day people will write songs about you.)
So, Saturday rolled around and the roads were beginning to be cleared. We wanted to do something fun. So we decided to go to Albany and check out at least the New York State Museum. We'd been there together before but it is such a good one that we wanted to go back.
First let me say, the drive up there was spectacular. All the trees were coated with ice and the sun was bright, reflecting off the ice. Everything looked like it was coated in Swarovski Crystal. The night the storm raged was one of the scariest I've ever spent but that Saturday was one of the most beautiful I've ever seen.
Now for the museum, the 9/11 exhibit focuses on the recovery efforts at Ground Zero. (Several of the artifacts at the Fireman's Museum in Hudson are on loan from the NYS Museum.) They rotated objects in the exhibit since we'd been there and we saw new things. This exhibit alone is worth the trip to Albany.
One of my other favorite exhibits is Sesame Street. I loved Sesame Street as a kid--my security blanket was even Big Bird and Little Bird together. This exhibit was part of the original set, the stairs from the brownstone. In fact, the photo that now accompanies this blog was taken this day in front of Big Bird's nest and Oscar's trashcan.
The last time we were there, the carousel was closed for repairs. It is now open again and we resisted the temptation to ride. But we watched a few kids ride and let me say, that thing books around. I've never seen a carousel that goes quite that fast!
After we left the NYS Museum, we went to the Albany Institute of History and Art. This museum was not what I was expecting. It is basically art (paintings, drawings, sculpture, etc.), a doll house and two mummies. Yes, you read that right. This is a museum of art with a dollhouse given to a little girl Christmas morning in the 1950s and a room with two mummies, if you don't count the cat mummy.
The art is interesting and varied. I spent the most time with the painting of President Abraham Lincoln's assassination.
The mummies--a male and female--were creepy. I looked at them for a minute or so and then hightailed it out of there, calling over my shoulder for Megan to take her time, I'd be in the next room. Megan found the mummies fascinating. And I guess they are. But I can remember being uncomfortable around the mummy at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City back in 1991 when my grandmother took me there.
At any rate, if you're looking for a good art gallery, this is a good one.
The GPS is not all-knowing
HAVING NOTHING TO DO and no one to do it with seems to be a pattern for my Saturdays. Not that I'm complaining of having Saturdays free to do as I please, mind you. I kind of like it.
Saturday, September 27 found me in the same place. So I whipped out the stack of things to see and settled on the Bidwell House Museum in Monterey, Mass. I didn't really know anything about it except that it was a Colonial-era house.
Let me just say before we go any further, you have to WANT to go there, otherwise, you'll never find it just driving around sightseeing. But this is worth the trip, especially on a fall afternoon. I can imagine spring would be equally beautiful--for different reasons, of course.
Monterey is off the beaten path. From my house in Columbia County, the GPS told me to go through Great Barrington and turn right, like I'm going to Ski Butternut. Well, you keep going and going and going before you get to Monterey. Still, it is a quaint little New England village complete with an old general store with inviting benches on the front porch.
But you still have to go even further outside of Monterey. My GPS told me to turn off on another road and then another and then another (Carriage-Battelle Road) that I might have hiked. My poor little Chrysler coupe just wasn't having it. I had to drop it down to a lower gear and crawl up the partly washed out road.
To be fair, I love my GPS. I wouldn't go anywhere without it. But I learned an important lesson that day. Sometimes, a GPS doesn't know what the heck it is doing. Use a map. And if your GPS tells you to turn off Tyrningham Road onto anything other than Art School Road, ignore it. (Google Maps also takes you down Carriage-Battelle Road.)
At the end of Carriage-Battelle, I came out to a paved road that I suspected went to the main road that I turned off of several miles (and a scrapped undercarriage) ago. But still I soldiered on and the signs said I was practically there.
The parking lot was empty except for one car. Okay, so the museum closes at 4 p.m. and it was around 3 p.m. on a chilly, drizzly day at the end of the tourist season. I should not have been surprised.
At the house, I was greeted at the door and Scott was sent down to give me a tour. Yes, I was the only one on the tour. At first I felt a little awkward but I quickly got over that and the tour became more of a conversation, with Scott and me bouncing ideas off each other, speculating and brainstorming about things we didn't know. One-on-one tours are pretty cool, perhaps the only way to see museums. I may be spoiled now.
(As a side note, Scott said he's never even been down Carriage-Battelle Road and he's heard other GPSs doing the same thing as mine. He says the best way to go is Tyriningham Road to Art School Road.)
The basic story of the Bidwell House is that it was built in 1750 for the new minister, the Reverend Adonijah Bidwell, of Township No. 1 (as Monterey was known back then). It stayed in the family for a while. It was an art school for a while and a private residence. Eventually it was sold to some fabric designers from New York City in the 1960s. It had never been modernized (except for a bathroom) and the designers found a list of Bidwell's possessions at his death. The designers then used that list to recreate his collection as best as possible.
There is a Hillsdale connection to the house. But I'm not one for spoilers so you have to go and find it. It may be hard to find so I'll give you a hint...Look to the right of the attic door.
I have to say, it is fascinating stuff here...even down to the encrypted sermon they have on display. (Apparently he wrote his sermons in code so that he couldn't be tried for treason or what have you during the Revolution. Modern code breakers can't decipher what is written.)
Like I said, the Bidwell House is a place you can't get to by accident, unless you are truly lost. But this is one museum that is worth the extra effort. Just avoid Carriage-Battelle Road.
P.S.--I promise that my next entry will be about a Columbia County museum. I am volunteering at one for the day Saturday, October 11!
Friday, September 26, 2008
Surprises around every corner
WELL, I SUPPOSE I should do an update. I've only been to a handful of places since my last post but still something to report on.
On Labor Day, I had nothing to do and no one to do it with. So I rummaged through my pile of pamphlets--you know the ones you pick up at places advertising all the cool things to do. I found something for the Bennington Museum in Bennington, Vt. I thought it looked cool and the GPS said I could be there inside of an hour and a half. It was a beautiful day so a drive in the mountains sounded great. I packed up a picnic lunch (sure I'd pass a nice place to eat on the way up), instructed the cats to behave while I was gone and set off.
On the way to Bennington, I passed signs for the Battle of Bennington Battlefield, something I'd seen before but never gotten around to investigating. I made a mental note to stop on the way home, if I had time.
The drive is nice, heading up Route 22 north of New Lebanon. Once I turned off 22 and headed into Vermont, there was this big monument just sticking up out of the pastoral valley. It kind of reminded me of the Washington Monument in Washington, D.C. It was a mystery that chased my hunger pangs from my mind.
In Bennington, I followed the signs for the Bennington Battle Monument. That had to be what I saw. At the top of a hill at the end of a residential street stood the monument I had seen several miles out of Bennington.
After a recon trip, the hill proved perfect for a picnic lunch. So I started back to the car. But as I stepped from the grass to the pavement, my sandal slipped and I ended up on my rump, shattering my cellphone in my back pocket. More that that, it sprained my ankle. Lucky I packed a pair of sneakers in the car.
After lunch, there was no way I was headed home, even if my ankle was beginning to swell. I'd driven all this way and I wasn't giving in!
You can ride up an elevator to about two-thirds of the way up the monument. The stairs have been closed to the public since the 1960s. Despite my elevator phobia that goes back at least 15 years, I rode the old rickety slow elevator to the top. It was worth the white knuckle ride. The view is spectacular. You can see at least three states from up there. And on the day I was there, the breeze was nice.
At the monument, you learn a little about the Battle of Bennington that actually took place in New York and about the monument itself.
After I came down from the top, I went over to the Bennington Museum. Apparently, I have a knack for finding quirky museums. This one falls in that category. Between Bennington Pottery (which my mother is very jealous over me seeing without her), pressed glass, the Martin-Wasp car and the (what else?) Battle of Bennington, there is enough to fill several museums.
But what I really enjoyed was the Grandma Moses gallery and schoolhouse. I loved her work as a child, especially The Night Before Christmas book she illustrated. My own grandmother is similar to her in that she picked up painting later in life too. I had never seen any of her work in person and that alone was worth putting up with a throbbing ankle to see.
On the way home, I passed the signs for the battlefield. Well, now I just had to go since I'd just learned all about the battle.
Basically, it is a hill with a few small maps in bronze or something like that. Still, it is free and beautiful and if you've made a day of learning about the battle, you might as well go. But be prepared--I guesstimate it is 10 miles off Rte. 22 and out of the way.
The ride home was of course excruciating. My (right) ankle did not like the driving angle it had to be at and I'm thinking I did more damage by continuing to walk on it after the fall. Nearly four weeks later and I'm still having to nurse it along. Oh well. Totally worth it! Saw three things, two of which were spontaneous.
Chesterwood
Last Saturday, I again had nothing to do and no one to do it with. I pulled out the stack of pamphlets and decided on Chesterwood, home of Daniel Chester French in Stockbridge, Mass., keeping it close to home since I slept in and got a late start.
I have been to the Lincoln Memorial in D.C. (which French did the sculpture for) and so I was mildly interested in his other work and studio. What I really wanted to see was his house since it was built just before the turn of the 20th Century.
However, there wasn't much open in his house--just the dining room, study and living room all off the hallway and none you can go in, just peering at through a velvet-roped door.
The studio is the highlight of the tour, something most people go to see, I think. Examples of his work are there and it turns out, that is the most remarkable part of the tour, even to someone with a mild interest.
The grounds are beautiful! I can't say that enough. Wooded areas and gardens, which are open to the public free of charge, are well worth an afternoon stroll. My ankle still wasn't going to allow much walking so I think I'll have to go back someday. There are trails around so I'll bring my hiking boots!
A modern sculpture display is out throughout the grounds. I personally don't care for modern art as much as more classic forms. But if you do like modern sculpture, I imagine the display is appealing.
In all, it was a pleasant surprise for me. I went to see a house, was disappointed but pleased to be fascinated by a studio.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Catching up
I KNOW I haven't posted for a few weeks. I was at my cousin's wedding and before that I was preparing for the trip. So needless to say, I haven't been to any places recently.
I was hoping the wedding would be a blog entry since it was at the Deerpark Restaurant on the Biltmore Estate of the Vanderbilt legacy, in Asheville, N.C. But it turned out to be a family wedding without much interest to anyone outside the family. However, I will say that it was spectacular and I had a good vacation.
So I thought I'd catch up on some of the things Megan I have done, pre-blog days.
Perhaps one of my unlikely favorites is the Berkshire Museum in Pittsfield.
On our tour, we complained to each other about how the museum is so random and odd. Yes, there is a vast array of collections--from an aquarium to ancient civilizations to art--that struck us as strange. And the collections have just a few pieces.
I've been told (but not confirmed) that it is basically one family's private collection. Would make sense then that there are a lot of little collections.
The
But looking back, I've had to revise my opinion. At first I thought it too fragmented to be enjoyable. But on second thought, it gives visitors a taste of each collection (and hopefully inspire further research). It is quirky--in good way. And young minds these days tend to have limited attention spans, so that can aid in avoiding boredom. And if you have different interests in your group, everyone will find something they like. Me, I liked the fish but if you've read my first post, that shouldn't come as a surprise.
In all, it is an interesting little museum and can be done in a few hours (or less) or all day.
I had planned to talk about the New York State Museum next, but after working on it for an hour, I feel half an entry does it no justice. I will devote an entire post to it in the future.
I did go on the Berkshire Scenic Railroad by myself on Memorial Day this year.
My mother's family has a history on the railroad, including her father who retired from Southern Railroad. When I called my grandmother and told her about the trip, she said it was a wonderful way to remember Grandpa, who was also a World War II POW.
The museum is limited. A few pictures and a brief synopsis of the railroad's history in Berkshire County, including a nice display of the Gilded Age in a separate car, is the extent of the exhibits.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Take me out to the ballgame
I REALLY DO LOVE BASEBALL and there is plenty of good ball in the area. Of course, there is Joseph L. Bruno Stadium in Troy. But last Friday, I found myself at Wahconah Park in Pittsfield.
It was Boy Scout Night and my dad, who works for the Great Trails Council in Massachusetts, was heading it up. I went last year and had a good time, so when he invited me again this year, I said I'd go.
Anytime Dad asks if I want to go to the ballpark of course I'll go. But Scout Night is special. Not just because he works for them, but because scouting has been in our family since my brother was in the second grade and he started in Cub Scouts. He went on to become an Eagle Scout.
Once I got to the park this year, Dad put me to work collecting money, giving out badges and asking the scouts to sign the get well card for the scout in Iowa still in the hospital after the tornados last month. Before the game, all the uniformed scouts lined up on the third baseline and a moment of silence was observed for the four scouts killed by the tornados. And of course, a scout threw out the first pitch and another sang the national anthem.
The home team won and following the game, the scouts set up camp in the outfield for the night.
But to fit into my blog, I suppose I should talk about why I like this field. Sure, The Joe is brand spanking new and I could live there. But there is a charm to Wahconah Park that The Joe just doesn't have.
If you want to see how local parks used to be around the turn of the 20th Century, you can always go to Doubleday Field in Cooperstown. But with gas prices as they are now and if you want something a little closer to home, go to see the Pittsfield Dukes at Wahconah, which is 20 years older than Doubleday anyway.
Not much has changed in the park, aside from a few modern conveniences added (I suspect the restrooms were not original to the park) since it was built in 1919. Looking around the park, it isn't hard to imagine ladies and gentlemen of yesteryear filling the stands.
Perhaps one of the most curious things about the park is that the field is situated so the batter, catcher and home plate umpire face due west--directly into the setting sun. Wahconah is one of only two in the country to do so.
At the time the park was built, games were played in the afternoon so it really wasn't a big deal. But with the advent of electricity and lights in ballparks around the country, it became a big problem. So now on sunny evenings, a sun delay is called while the teams wait for the sun to set behind the tree line.
Of course, Pittsfield also has the earliest known documented mention of base ball (as it was called way back when) in a town meeting as far back as 1791.
The list of Major Leaguers who used to play in Wahconah is impressive: Ted Williams, Lou Gehrig, Casey Stengle, Curt Schilling, Ken Griffey, Jr., John Smoltz, Greg Maddox, Joe Morgan, Thurman Munson, Carlton Fisk and Lou Piniella (just to name a few).
So Wahconah fits in with two things I enjoy: history and baseball. Plus, it is hard to beat a night at the game, no matter who wins.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
A day of the Gilded Age--sort of
MEGAN AND I have been talking for months about going to Edith Wharton's house, The Mount in Lenox, Mass. For some strange reason we never seemed to get there though. But last week, we decided to go Saturday, June 21.
First, I'd like to say that The Mount is in serious financial trouble. Restoration began on the house in 1997 and the total cost is estimated to be around $30 million when all is said and done. It is now facing foreclosure, though I was assured by the staff that the house will remain open through the fall. To avoid foreclosure, $3 million is needed by October 31, 2008. As of this writing, just under $1 million has been raised.
With this in mind, not all the rooms have been restored. The second level of the house--the main, public areas for guests of the Whartons--is pretty well set. The third floor (bedrooms) have been started but are far from completion. The entry level (service areas) has had some work done but more is needed.
There are exhibits, notably in the two-story stable, about the restoration process.
We paid the extra $2 for a guided tour of the house. (Self-guided tours are $16.) I'm glad we did. We learned a lot more than we could have with the limited literature given to us.
One of the things I was especially pleased to learn was that Mrs. Wharton wrote in bed, letting the leafs fall to the floor for an assistant to pick up and sort out. She also kept her dogs (she loved dogs) with her for inspiration. This mirrors my own writing habits (personal writing, not work for The Independent), just substitute cats for dogs and I don't have a personal assistant.
I also found the pet cemetery, complete with headstones, to be touching. Even more cool was that she surely chose the spot for the cemetery in a location that her bedroom overlooked.
Perhaps the most significant tidbit of info our guide Hal told us was that she really tried to get away from the excessive decoration that was in vogue in the Victorian era. It surprised me because she didn't seem to put that in what I've read of her books--and I admit that I'm not Edith Wharton scholar. Far from it, to say the very least. It also saddened me a bit because I love everything Victorian and Gilded Age.
But nonetheless, the house was beautiful and the grounds even more so. I left pleased that we had done our part to support The Mount's efforts to remain open and continue its restoration projects. I encourage others to do the same.
Originally we planned to go to the outlet malls in Lee, Mass., once we left The Mount. But since the one thing we were going to shop for had been purchased the night before, we decided instead to go to Ventfort Hall, also a Gilded Age mansion, just a mile or so down the road from The Mount.
It also bills itself as a museum to the Gilded Age and has a display of dolls wearing very accurate period dresses (more on that later).
I was most disappointed with this house. Expecting a fully-restored mansion, I was disappointed when we couldn't go upstairs (by the end of the summer the upstairs will be open, we were told) and the entire tour went through basically six or seven rooms. Most of the rooms are in even poorer states than The Mount.
The house was built by J.P. Morgan's grandson George Morgan and his first wife, Sarah. None of the family possessions are in the house, as they were all sold after George's death and there was no record of where they went.
Having said that, Ventfort Hall has come along way. The tour starts with a mini-lecture (which can be hard to follow since they assume you know something of the house and its history before you get there--which I didn't). Throughout the house, the guide tells of the restoration process. Several years ago, the owner had started dismantling the house to make room for a nursing home. But the Ventfort Hall Association persuaded him to stop while they tried--and ultimately succeeded in--taking possession of the house.
Since then, it has also faced financial hardships in trying to restore the house.
Once interesting side note that made the house worth the trip for Megan and me--it was used prominently in The Cider House Rules, a movie staring Michael Caine and Toby Maguire and one of Megan's favorites.
My favorite part of Ventfort Hall was the doll display. I do find dolls a little creepy. (Megan finds dolls so disturbing that she didn't really want to look as closely as I did.) But I soon found myself immersed into the detailing of these clothes and I was fascinated by all of them. Costumes ranged from pre-Civil War to the 1910s and included wedding gowns to afternoon dresses to evening dresses. One is even dressed for her wedding night. In the library stands a replica of Sarah Ferguson, Dutchess of York, on her wedding day.
Still, it wasn't a total loss. Despite my disappointment, I still enjoyed myself and particularly enjoyed the story of George Morgan's son marrying a geisha. I am pleased that the house is now being cared for and look forward to returning when more rooms are opened.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Cruisin' the Hudson
LAST WEEK, my friend Megan said she had a pair of tickets through her work for a cruise on the Hudson River with the syndicated morning radio show Bob and Sheri and asked if I wanted to go. Well, I've never done the Spirit of the Hudson cruise and I do alternate between Bob and Sheri and the Sean and Richie show on my way to work, so I thought it would be a good way to spend a Friday evening.
We got to the dock a little after 6 p.m. with an estimated departure time of 6:30. It was then that I realized that the entire cruise was private to thank the advertisers who support 98.5 Lite FM, which sponsored the cruise and carries Bob and Sheri. At least, I think this was the purpose of the cruise. I was never really sure.
Bob and Sheri were a few minutes late, but as soon as they were on board, the captain came on the PA system to give us instructions, such as one hand is for your beer and the other to hold the railing.
We couldn't have asked for a more perfect night, weather wise. The humidity was low, the temperature just right and a few clouds in the sky made the sunset really beautiful.
We turned south and drove past the Hudson-Athens Lighthouse. Eventually, we cruised down the Catskill Creek and I have to say, some of the yachts we saw were more impressive than the coming sunset (if you're into shallow, materialistic things).
But about 15 minutes or so into the cruise, Megan and I were both hungry but we wanted to see Olana from the water and waited around for that, which took a while. Olana is further south from Hudson than I had thought...or maybe I'm just a victim of the 21st Century's notion of instant gratification.
After our Olana glimpse, we went down for the complimentary buffet, which was...Well, with Megan a vegetarian and me a carnivore (who doesn't like many veggies), we were less than impressed. But hey, you're on a small boat (120 people max) in the middle of the Hudson River, how much more can you expect? Plus the free beer, wine and soda more than made up for it.
Lite rock anthems blasting out of speakers were a staple all night, as were the middle-aged women dancing and singing like it was a 1986 prom night. The captain even got in on the dancing and was the most entertaining of the group. He made even my dad look cool.
By the way, I think Megan and I were the youngest people on the cruise voluntarily. She thinks that one couple could have been our age. But I stand by my estimation.
Things got really rocking about 15 minutes before we docked when Bob took over the controls and was driving the boat. And according to the tone in the captain's voice, nothing cooler (or possibly reckless) could have happened. We were livin' on the edge.
Neither Megan nor I met Bob or Sheri. Megan didn't know what to say and I was too busy playing it cool (rather than the star-struck freak I was trying to hide) to walk up and introduce myself. Oh, well. I'm not that big of a fan.
The boat docked about 8:45 and Megan and I headed to Taco Bell.
Of course, now that I've completely made this out to be the lamest thing I've ever done, I have to say that I thoroughly enjoyed myself as did Megan and I'd recommend you go if you get the chance--with or without Bob and Sheri.
The views were spectacular, the weather agreeable and it sure beat the hound out of sitting at home watching a movie I've seen 1,000 times. The cruise is a good way to see the river. Just pick a day that is not so hot or humid and possibly go in the evening to see the sunset behind the lighthouse.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Embracing my inner dorkdom
GROWING UP, my brother and I found ourselves walking through more museums, Civil War battlefields and other educational things than we can remember. We did not voluntarily go to most of these places and thought them lame at best. I think this tends to happen to most teachers' children and our mother is a third generation teacher.
Disclaimer: This most emphatically does not apply to the Natural Science Center in Greensboro, N.C. (which we asked to go to every summer), any zoo or aquariums. The aquarium in Wilmington, N.C., was the highlight of the annual beach trip.
Fast forward to my adulthood and I've finally learned to appreciate these things. History was one of my favorite (and best) subjects in school after all. As an adult, I find these places terribly fascinating and wish I'd paid more attention when I was a kid.
Up until a year ago, I didn't have any friends interested in these sorts of things and I wasn't comfortable going alone (something about looking geeky). So I didn't do too much.
But now, I don't care how I look (not that I think I look geeky, as I feared) and last year I met another museum junkie, Megan, who works in a local museum and with whom I have had a few adventures already.
On one such adventure, I was feeling a little dorky since the museum was sort of stupid and everyone there was either a bored child or an adult escorting a bored child. I was having a good time though and at one point, I leaned over to Megan and said, "I'm so glad I've found someone I can embrace my inner dorkdom with."
Emily and me
One Saturday late last summer, I woke up and decided I just had to drive to Emily Dickinson's house in Amherst, Mass. It was something I'd been meaning to do since I moved here and even though Megan wasn't available to go, that was okay.
I had to go alone. Going would be an important step in a journey I started with Emily nearly 20 years ago in a small bookstore on the Carolina coast when I bought her complete works with the spending money I was given for our vacation. It was the first "grown up" book I bought. Over the years, she became my most important poetic influence and that book is, to this day, one of my most treasured possessions.
I arrived just after a tour left and I had about two hours to kill before the next tour that went through both her house and her brother's house next door. I went to her grave and walked around Amherst, which is a pretty cool college town. I get the impression there is more to see there, perhaps an art gallery or two, and the shops looked interesting. But I was on a mission.
The house tour was what I expected. A good bit of the house is restored (or in the process of being restored). Not all the rooms are there that I would like to see. The kitchen, for example, is now the welcome center and gift shop.
But walking the halls that my favorite author did on a daily basis was worth the two-hour drive. Among other things, I was especially awed by her fabled bedroom window, out of which she lowered baskets of cookies for the neighborhood children after she quit going out in public.
One room in her house (probably her sister's bedroom) is set up to compare her work to that of some of her contemporaries. I found that as interesting as the couch where, late in life, she was caught making out with one of the few suitors she had. Scandalous!
The grounds are beautiful as well, with gardens she used to tend. And the leisurely, wooded walk between the houses was short but reminded me of the woods behind my grandmother's house.
Her brother's house has not yet been restored for lack of funds, but still it was an important part of her life and is worth paying the extra money and spending the extra time to go through.
Even if you don't hero-worship Dickinson (as I just realized I do), the house is a good example of 19th-centry life, though I'm sure there are other examples closer to home.
I recommend making the trip solely to see the houses if you enjoy Emily Dickinson's poetry, are interested in her life or have a personal connection to her as I do. If you have only a passing interest, the objective journalistic eye in me says you can find something similar and just as interesting closer to home. But if you happen to be in the area, it is worth a detour.
