Dear Congressman Xavier Becerra,
Concerned for the safety of my very pregnant friend who lives in Cairo, I asked her how I could help, she replied, "Reach out to your local congressman.” It wasn’t the reply I was expecting. To avoid the possibility of the protests in Egypt escalating into something further, I anticipated helping her book a flight back to the United States, perhaps wiring money over, or even sending a care package if mail delivery would allow. Certainly her request would be the easier of the things to do than what I had envisioned and yet her request gave me pause.
I have never written to my local congressman and yet I do so now, understanding how much more this could mean for her, for me, for her country and for mine.
We are witnessing a revolution in Egypt - The Egyptian people are demanding President Mubarak to step down.
Over a million Egyptians intend to remain in Tahrir Square until the regime accepts their demands for a new and democratic government. The demonstrators have shown to the world that they did not come to destroy, but to build their country.
We must also show our support, but not in millions of dollars in military aid to the Middle East as the U.S. has done in the past; instead, I ask that we do so by sending food, water and supplies. The country is desperately poor, more than 40 percent of Egypt’s 84 million citizens survive on less than two dollars a day and ongoing demonstrations against Mubarak has halted businesses and created household shortages of supplies like bread and rice.
And once Mubarak is removed, our support should again continue not in the way of massive military budgets, but by assisting the Egyptians in this transition. Our assistance to Egypt should reflect our support by guiding them to build democratic institutions. Help them stand on their own two feet, make available our expertise for a more just and accountable government. As quoted by another congressman, "the people of Egypt are fighting for their rights as our nation once fought a revolution to obtain."
Thank you for your time.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Here's to starting 2011 on the right foot with a 1920s poem written by Max Ehrmann. May it inspire, rejuvenate and remind us all to pay it forward.
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
We called the plumber because we noticed that the back corner of the house where the master bath is located was wet again.
The plumber said that the good news was that the old leak that he patched last year was still in tact. The bad news is that there was indeed a new leak.
He also said that our toilet was in really bad shape. We mentioned that the toilet in the master bath was wobbly. He said that because the toilet was never installed correctly, water was seeping between the floorboards and dripping down every time we flush. He said that at the rate that the water was damaging the wood, the toilet would eventually come through the floor.
He also said that all the piping was the wrong side. Water pipes should be ¾ inch copper and not ½ inch. While he was talking to us on our front porch, he also pointed out that the water pressure valve at the front of the house looked to be about 10-15 years old. He could tell that the valve had been replaced with galvanized steel fitting which, when that metal reacts to copper causes corrosion. We mentioned that since we moved in, that valve has blown twice. He said that we were lucky that we have not blown a pipe under the house otherwise it would have caused serious damage and thousands of dollars of work.
He said that a factory sets the standard pressure on valves at 50 lbs. Most households should run 70 lbs or less. When he measured the pressure, we weren’t using any water in the house and his meter read 120 lbs of pressure. He said in the evening, when everyone is home and using water, our pressure valve probably goes up to 170. He said that this was our emergency NOT the leak under the house and he was extremely surprised that it had not blown previous especially since the entire house is not fitted with the right sized pipes, adding more pressure to the amount of water trying to push through the smaller pipes. We had him change it before he attended to the work under the house. $385. It took three workers to replace the pressure valve, the piping under the master bath ($2,800) and the master toilet piping ($450). All with the proper sized, copper piping. Since the plumbers were under the house, we figured we would ask them why we can’t get any hot water in the guest bathroom sink. Apparently that sink has not had hot water for years.
The plumbers initially couldn’t figure out why we would get hot water in the shower, but not the sink when both were connected to the same pipes. They had to take apart some of the plumbing to see why. To no one’s surprise, the previous contractor did a shoddy job, connecting galvanized steel pipes of the wrong size to copper pipes, causing once again, those two metals to react and cause corrosion. The pipes are so corroded and clogged with gunk that NO hot water can get through it.
There is over 40 feet of galvanized piping that would need to be replaced in order to do the job right. He said it was about as much work as the master bath.
He also said that the guest bathroom toilet was also in the same condition as the master bath -- put in incorrectly. The floor was cut too big for the toilet pipe work so they wedged pieces of wood to keep it from moving. This patch job also stands the chance of eventually falling through the floor as well. We don’t’ want to spend that money only for us to eventually remodel that bathroom to the way we truly want it so since no one really uses that bathroom, we will wait until we have the money to do so. Meanwhile, no water will continue to run in that sink.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Survival 101
HE BLOGGED: Who is ready for the Apocalypse, World War III, the rise of the Zombie Nation, or simply the next natural disaster? Do you need to be an avid outdoorsman, survival specialist, or a marine? Negative!!! If you have cable TV and are able to wrestle the remote control from your spouse, girlfriend or roommate, salvation is merely watching the numerous survival shows playing on Discovery Channel. Top of the hardcore list is Man vs Wild, the name says it all. Bear Grylls show the average joe how it is done, hurling himself into the worst situations and demonstrating that starvation is not an issue if you can tolerate the taste and texture. Not far behind is Les Stroud’s Survivor Man and his new series Beyond Survival, kudos to Les who ventures off on his own absentia of camera crew. Les hauls in his own gear and films himself, now imagine trying to survive in a harsh environment and do a documentary solo. For the bosom buddies or odd couple, there is Dual Survival, matching up Cody Lundin, whom I’ve dubbed the white aborigine for his minimalist perspective and bare feet, with Dave Canterbury, who is the cross between the swamp thing and a red neck. They provide a good contrast of different view points on survival. The main take away from this show is trudging around barefoot… not such a good idea. For those who want their spouse to partake of this educational adventure, Man Woman Wild will give her a glimpse into what may save her life one day or at least the comfort that her husband will.
It truly is amazing how these shows have taken off and have their own cult following. In a world characterized by Iphones and Garmin gps devices , who thinks of getting lost anymore or in need of survival? Yet every year there are tourist, avid hikers and campers who become lost and need rescue. It is sometimes the little things that gives hope and carries a person that extra day or hour and makes the difference between survival and becoming another statistic. I have always been fascinated by the ingenuity of man and survival shows are a testament to that ingenuity. What does it take to make a fire in the absence of matches or a lighter? Can you do it? Just watch one episode and you will walk away knowing at least one way how to make fire. Hey if anything it is pretty bad ass to be able to take a stick, a piece of string, some dried wood and a little bit of elbow grease to create the hot embers of a future fire.
From another perspective, survival shows present to the audience how some of the people in the world survive today. They aren’t ordering dinner through a drive through or nuking it in the microwave; they are doing it the old school way: hunting, gathering and farming. It is not glamorous, but who really cares; its survival right? Who would have thought if you are dying of thirst in the desert of Africa that water can be squeezed from the dung of elephants. You may end up throwing up more fluids than you consume, but if you are able to keep it down, those few mouthfuls of water will keep you going for what could be just enough time till you find an adequate water source. People all over the world have adapted and continue to adapt to the changes the environment presents to them. These hosts who take us on their journeys give us a glimpse of how some of those people are surviving day by day.
It truly is amazing how these shows have taken off and have their own cult following. In a world characterized by Iphones and Garmin gps devices , who thinks of getting lost anymore or in need of survival? Yet every year there are tourist, avid hikers and campers who become lost and need rescue. It is sometimes the little things that gives hope and carries a person that extra day or hour and makes the difference between survival and becoming another statistic. I have always been fascinated by the ingenuity of man and survival shows are a testament to that ingenuity. What does it take to make a fire in the absence of matches or a lighter? Can you do it? Just watch one episode and you will walk away knowing at least one way how to make fire. Hey if anything it is pretty bad ass to be able to take a stick, a piece of string, some dried wood and a little bit of elbow grease to create the hot embers of a future fire.
From another perspective, survival shows present to the audience how some of the people in the world survive today. They aren’t ordering dinner through a drive through or nuking it in the microwave; they are doing it the old school way: hunting, gathering and farming. It is not glamorous, but who really cares; its survival right? Who would have thought if you are dying of thirst in the desert of Africa that water can be squeezed from the dung of elephants. You may end up throwing up more fluids than you consume, but if you are able to keep it down, those few mouthfuls of water will keep you going for what could be just enough time till you find an adequate water source. People all over the world have adapted and continue to adapt to the changes the environment presents to them. These hosts who take us on their journeys give us a glimpse of how some of those people are surviving day by day.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
It's Not Shtick
SHE BLOGGED: I recently finished Anthony Bourdain's latest book, "Medium Raw." And while for the most part I enjoyed reading his very opinionated opinions, I also took everything he said with a grain of salt. No pun intended.
It wasn't until I reached almost the end of the book that I came to a page where I couldn't have wholeheartedly agreed with the angry man more. It was about vegetarians. While I don't expect anyone to go out and purchase the book just to read that part, I will dutifully re-type that part for your reading enjoyment:
Okay. I AM genuinely angry -- still-- at vegetarians. That's not shtick. Not angry at them personally, mind you -- but in principle. A shocking number of vegetarians and even vegans have come to my readings, surprised me with an occasional sense of humor, refrained from hurling animal blood at me -- even befriended me. I have even knowingly had sex with one, truth be told. But what I've seen of the world in the past nine years has, if anything, made me angrier at anyone not a Hindu who insists on turning their nose up at a friendly offer of meat.
I don't care what you do in your home, but the idea of a vegetarian traveler in comfortable shoes waving away the hospitality -- the distillation of a lifetime of training and experience -- of say, a Vietnamese pho vendor (of Italian mother-in-law, for that matter) fills me with spluttering indignation.
NO principle is, to my mind, worth that; no Western concept of "is it a pet or is it meat" excuses that kind of rudeness.
I often talk about the "Grandma rule" for travelers. You may not like Grandma's Thanksgiving turkey. It may be overcooked and dry -- and her stuffing salty and studded with rubbery pellets of giblet you find unpalatable in the extreme. You may not even like turkey at all. But it's GRANDMA'S turkey. And you are in Grandma's HOUSE. So shut the fuck up and eat it. And afterward, say, "Thank you, Grandma, why, yes, yes of course I'd LOVE seconds."
I guess I understand if your desire for a clean conscience and cleaner colon overrules any natural lust for bacon. But taking your belief system on the road --or to other people's houses -- makes me angry. I feel too lucky -- now more than ever -- too acutely aware what an incredible, unexpected privilege it is to travel this world and enjoy the kindness of strangers to ever, ever be able to understand hos one could do anything other than say yes, yes, yes.
Awesome.
It wasn't until I reached almost the end of the book that I came to a page where I couldn't have wholeheartedly agreed with the angry man more. It was about vegetarians. While I don't expect anyone to go out and purchase the book just to read that part, I will dutifully re-type that part for your reading enjoyment:
Okay. I AM genuinely angry -- still-- at vegetarians. That's not shtick. Not angry at them personally, mind you -- but in principle. A shocking number of vegetarians and even vegans have come to my readings, surprised me with an occasional sense of humor, refrained from hurling animal blood at me -- even befriended me. I have even knowingly had sex with one, truth be told. But what I've seen of the world in the past nine years has, if anything, made me angrier at anyone not a Hindu who insists on turning their nose up at a friendly offer of meat.
I don't care what you do in your home, but the idea of a vegetarian traveler in comfortable shoes waving away the hospitality -- the distillation of a lifetime of training and experience -- of say, a Vietnamese pho vendor (of Italian mother-in-law, for that matter) fills me with spluttering indignation.
NO principle is, to my mind, worth that; no Western concept of "is it a pet or is it meat" excuses that kind of rudeness.
I often talk about the "Grandma rule" for travelers. You may not like Grandma's Thanksgiving turkey. It may be overcooked and dry -- and her stuffing salty and studded with rubbery pellets of giblet you find unpalatable in the extreme. You may not even like turkey at all. But it's GRANDMA'S turkey. And you are in Grandma's HOUSE. So shut the fuck up and eat it. And afterward, say, "Thank you, Grandma, why, yes, yes of course I'd LOVE seconds."
I guess I understand if your desire for a clean conscience and cleaner colon overrules any natural lust for bacon. But taking your belief system on the road --or to other people's houses -- makes me angry. I feel too lucky -- now more than ever -- too acutely aware what an incredible, unexpected privilege it is to travel this world and enjoy the kindness of strangers to ever, ever be able to understand hos one could do anything other than say yes, yes, yes.
Awesome.
Friday, June 18, 2010
ATM: Stealing My Identity and My $$
SHE BLOGGED: On a Sunday in late May, I get an email text and a voicemail message from Bank of America's fraud detection department.
They alerted me of some unusual activity on my ATM Card: $200+ at 7ELEVEN (what the @#$%!!!), $400+ at a Walgreens and $500+ at a Ralph's. I was horrified. When I confirmed I made no such purchases, they canceled my card.
How the hell do you even spend that much money at 7Eleven and why the hell didn't the clerk ask for some ID!?!
I went online to check my account. Fortunately, B of A was suspicious before the money actually left my account. Thank god. Thank you, thank you B of A. I did notice a $2 charge for at an ATM machine withdrawal I never made. I called B of A and they confirmed that an additional $500 appeared to have been attempted to be removed from my account via an ATM machine, did I want to place a claim for the $2 charge that was actually withdrawn from my account. Are you kidding? I was so glad that they caught all that activity that I will take the $2 hit! Fighting for $2 was not worth the headache.
I was told a new ATM card was on its way in five days, but it never arrived. So I called BofA back and they said I would now have to go into a branch office to get one because apparently my social security number was wrong. WHAT?!?!? How is that possible?
Apparently, since the time that I opened the account, my Social Security number has been one number off. How have I been able to have this account if that was wrong all this time? I have no idea. The woman on the phone actually tried to say that perhaps I just don't remember my own number. No. I've had that same number since I was a kid, so if anyone got it wrong it's you!
I now had to go into the office with my Social Security Card to prove that I was indeed who I said I was and that my SS# is what I have been saying it is. My fear was that I hadn't seen that card in forever!! Who needs to show their card these days? How many other accounts have been opened without that flimsy blue piece of paper as proof?!?
Fortunately I did find it and was issued another ATM card promptly. "Is there anything else that we can help you with," the branch manager asks. I said yes, I want to know what is being done about the jerk who stole my ATM number because I rarely use my ATM card and if I had to guess who stole it, I would bet on that Valero gas station because their outdoor machine was broken so I had to go into the store and swipe my ATM card and punch in my code.
She said that this happens so often that it was impossible to investigate every claim. I felt frustrated! Who knows how many times that gas station has gotten away with this! I can literally point my finger at them with confidence and say it was them, but apparently that's just not good enough to warrant an investigation.
The branch manager did say that of all the stories she hears from customers, most of these ATM stolen identity issue seem to come from having used their ATM card at a gas station.
So from now on, I pay cash. It's a complete inconvenience in this day and age, but I do not want to go through that again.
They alerted me of some unusual activity on my ATM Card: $200+ at 7ELEVEN (what the @#$%!!!), $400+ at a Walgreens and $500+ at a Ralph's. I was horrified. When I confirmed I made no such purchases, they canceled my card.
How the hell do you even spend that much money at 7Eleven and why the hell didn't the clerk ask for some ID!?!
I went online to check my account. Fortunately, B of A was suspicious before the money actually left my account. Thank god. Thank you, thank you B of A. I did notice a $2 charge for at an ATM machine withdrawal I never made. I called B of A and they confirmed that an additional $500 appeared to have been attempted to be removed from my account via an ATM machine, did I want to place a claim for the $2 charge that was actually withdrawn from my account. Are you kidding? I was so glad that they caught all that activity that I will take the $2 hit! Fighting for $2 was not worth the headache.
I was told a new ATM card was on its way in five days, but it never arrived. So I called BofA back and they said I would now have to go into a branch office to get one because apparently my social security number was wrong. WHAT?!?!? How is that possible?
Apparently, since the time that I opened the account, my Social Security number has been one number off. How have I been able to have this account if that was wrong all this time? I have no idea. The woman on the phone actually tried to say that perhaps I just don't remember my own number. No. I've had that same number since I was a kid, so if anyone got it wrong it's you!
I now had to go into the office with my Social Security Card to prove that I was indeed who I said I was and that my SS# is what I have been saying it is. My fear was that I hadn't seen that card in forever!! Who needs to show their card these days? How many other accounts have been opened without that flimsy blue piece of paper as proof?!?
Fortunately I did find it and was issued another ATM card promptly. "Is there anything else that we can help you with," the branch manager asks. I said yes, I want to know what is being done about the jerk who stole my ATM number because I rarely use my ATM card and if I had to guess who stole it, I would bet on that Valero gas station because their outdoor machine was broken so I had to go into the store and swipe my ATM card and punch in my code.
She said that this happens so often that it was impossible to investigate every claim. I felt frustrated! Who knows how many times that gas station has gotten away with this! I can literally point my finger at them with confidence and say it was them, but apparently that's just not good enough to warrant an investigation.
The branch manager did say that of all the stories she hears from customers, most of these ATM stolen identity issue seem to come from having used their ATM card at a gas station.
So from now on, I pay cash. It's a complete inconvenience in this day and age, but I do not want to go through that again.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Soaked and Shivering in Seattle
SHE BLOGGED: It rained and sometime snowed while we were in Seattle, Washington this past weekend. Moments of sunshine were brief, and yet, not warm at all. We were battered down by bone-chilling winds that would find its way through the smallest opening in the sleeve of our coat and scream, “Welcome to Seattle!” And we would reply through chapped lips, “Happy to be here!” because despite the typical Seattle weather, we had a great time! Brrrr.
Being budget conscious, we took the metro transit bus from SEA/TAC airport to our hotel. A taxi from the airport - $50. The bus from the airport - $1.75. The adventure – priceless. Our flight didn’t get in until after 10 p.m. so needless to say that when you’re taking the bus at that late hour, you get some interesting characters. Great for people watching if you can do it without making direct eye contact.
The bus dropped us off a half a block from our hotel, and what a hotel! Hands down, the Arctic Club Hotel in Seattle is the best hotel we’ve ever stayed in (http://www.arcticclubhotel.com/) and we chose that hotel because it offered one of the best-priced packages online! What a find. Our room looked just like the ones on the web site. The place is so classy, and the attention to detail is phenomenal. The hotel used to be a gentlemen’s club for the wealthy back in the Gold Rush days. You can easily envision these dapper men lounging around, smoking cigars and trading stories in front of the original fireplace and bar.
We chose to go to Seattle because we knew it was a seafood town. We went with the mentality that we were going to eat at every moment we could. My husband and I had every intention of dumping our bags off in the room and heading straight back out to get some great food no matter what time it was, but by the time we checked in, who were we kidding? We were tired, it was freezing cold and the restaurants that served late night food were blocks and blocks away. Instead, we each took a stool at the hotel bar and practically stayed until closing.
We got to know the hotel’s bartender, Viktor. He came to the United States from Russia six years ago with his family when his wife won the American Green Card Lotto (Every year the U.S. government makes 50,000 green cards available to anyone who would like to apply). He has a 22-year-old son and a daughter that is in high school. Much to Viktor’s distaste, his son plays video games all day because he says he wants to do something with video game design. His daughter is truly daddy’s little girl. The warm smile on Viktor’s face when he talks about his daughter is one of pride and joy. His wife is a pastry chef at a different hotel. Viktor and his wife have been in the hotel business practically all their lives. He loves America, he loves Seattle. Before we all knew this about Viktor, we watched him easily chat with other bar patrons, pour drinks with ease, and we saw him treat a chapped and bleeding lip with vodka. Huh. An ancient family secret, perhaps? He got the lip from his daily morning run. As he dabbed vodka on his lip, he reminded us to make sure we wear lip balm as much as possible while we were here.
One of the first things I noticed when I crawled into bed was the smell of the sheets. It was fantastic. It was the smell of fresh laundry like you would get at home. Not that steamed, pressed dry cleaning smell you get from typical hotel bed sheets. It was such a subtle thing, yet so unique from any other hotel that I noticed it immediately and mentally checked of a dozen more star ratings for this hotel before I dozed off into a fitful sleep.
SATURDAY:
We took a ferry to Bainbridge Island. Bainbridge Island has a cute little town that reminded me of Catalina Island, but not as touristy. It didn’t quite have the foot traffic or the stores that you would have from a sightseeing attraction. It’s still very much a sleepy town, but my goodness it was beautiful. I’ve never been to Cape Cod, but Bainbridge is what I would picture it to be like. Lush and green with beautiful houses that dot the shoreline.
We had brunch at Café Nola (http://www.cafenola.com/). Was it worth the ferry ride, sure! Would we do it again? Probably not. My husband had the Dungness Crab Melt on focaccia bread and I had the Carmel Pecan French Toast, made on challah bread with orange bourbon butter and maple syrup.
From Bainbridge we headed to Pioneer Square and signed up for the Underground Tours (http://www.undergroundtour.com/). Our tour guide mentioned in passing that the Underground was voted one of the most haunted places in the United States and that the show, Ghost Hunters visited in 2007 and experienced quite a bit of paranormal activity. My husband loves that stuff. It was the one thing he needed to hear to immediately have a different appreciation for the tour. He started taking random photos in hopes that he’ll catch a glimmer of something. We have yet to review all his film, we’ll keep you posted if we see anything!
What I learned on the tour: There are over 20,000 coffee shops in Seattle. I believe it. In 4 blocks, we counted at least 6 Starbucks. We weren’t even counting the other types of coffee shops, like Tully’s.
The phrase “skid row” refers to a particular hilly street in Seattle where loggers would chuck trees down the street down to the lumber company. The logs would skid down the steep street right down to the lumberyard. The area later attracted riff raff and prostitution so the name stuck in reference and is now used in lower income areas as well. Kind of like…where I work! Isn’t that nice?
From Pioneer Square we walked to Pike Place Public Market (http://www.pikeplacemarket.org/frameset.asp?flash=true), one of Seattle’s famous landmarks. You’ve seen it on TV, where they throw fish? Except we didn’t see much fish throwing and it wasn’t what I expected it to be. It was intensely crowded and felt like Fisherman’s wharf in San Francisco -- a big tourist trap. The Market is made up of several different floors of shops that sell everything from jade to used clothing.
We hadn’t eaten since brunch, so it was time to taste some of Seattle’s highly touted seafood. We stopped at the first place we came across because it was convenient because it was so crowded! At this open food stand called the Market Grill, we shared a grilled Cajun salmon sandwich. Delicious! It was just enough to tie us over, but not too filling where we wouldn’t have enough room for more food.
Outside of the main arcade, we stumbled across a little hole in the wall called, Emmet Watson’s Oyster Bar (http://www.yelp.com/biz/emmett-watsons-oyster-bar-seattle). Our menus were printed on greasy paper brown bags and the waiter barely acknowledged us let alone crack a smile. And is facial hair allowed in the restaurant business because I think he was sporting a beard. He was that unmemorable I can’t remember. We had the oyster special, which consisted of two raw oysters, two shrimp and a cup of chowder. We also had the steamed clams in garlic broth. Honestly? Neither was anything to write home about. What a huge disappointment. The chowder was lumpy, the clams were intensely fishy smelling and the broth was watered down and not very flavorful. * sigh *
A few doors down, a line was forming outside this small little shop selling piroshkis. Newspaper articles and a photo of the shop owner with Anthony Bourdain (one of my husband's idols) was the clincher for us to stand in line as well. We got an apple cinnamon piroshki and loved it. I only wish I had room to try their other flavors, like potato and mushroom, or the cheese piroshki. Yum!
A few doors down from that was another line that was forming outside a shop. It turned out to be the very first Starbucks. I’m not sure what they were selling differently at this Starbucks that warranted a line, but we didn’t stick around to find out. Instead we headed to Beecher’s Handmade Cheese Company (http://www.beechershandmadecheese.com/). What a cool place! They make cheese on site, serve up grilled cheese sandwiches and the “world’s best” mac and cheese. I didn’t say that – someone classified it as such, in fact, their mac and cheese is constantly winning awards. I had to have some. I could not pass up one of my favorite comfort foods! I had an 8 oz. cup of mac and cheese and couldn’t finish it. It’s was so rich and cheesy I felt sick. Would I eat it again? Absolutely. In fact, I wish I had room to have eaten one of their grilled cheese sandwiches!
We did some window shopping and decided that while on the way home we’d pick up a bottle of local wine and call it a night. After walking through more rain and cold wind, opening up a bottle of wine and sitting in our cozy hotel room in bathrobes was the perfect ending to a busy day. That’s probably the most time we’ve ever spent just sitting in a hotel room. After we polished off the bottle of wine and regained warmth in our toes, ears and nose, we decided to head down to the hotel bar. We told Viktor we’d try the once illegal drink of absinthe, which they serve down at the Polar bar. And we’d give his cucumber gin and tonic a try, too.
Absinthe is historically described as a highly alcoholic (45%-74%) beverage that has an anise (licorice) flavor. It is commonly referred to as the Green Fairy. Absinthe was considered a dangerously addictive psychoactive drug and was banned in 1915. Ernest Hemingway drank his with champagne and called it “Death in the Afternoon.” It was brought back in the 1990s because no evidence has shown it to be any more dangerous than ordinary liquor. If you’ve watched your share of movies about demon chasers (Johnny Depp), and vampires, absinthe drinks are prominent. Look for the sugar cube, flame and green liquid.
So did Absinthe have my husband and I seeing hallucinations? No. Did we like it? Not really. Watching Viktor make the drink it and seeing its presentation made it worth it just to give it a try. Viktor’s cucumber gin and tonic was much more simple. In fact, it was your classic gin and tonic with cucumber slices thrown in.
Sitting at the bar with us was a gentlemen by the name of Plato. Plato is originally from Florida. He was in Seattle to give a lecture about library data documentation. Snore. But he himself was an interesting and delightful man. I honestly can’t even remember what we talked about because we covered so many different topics, but there was a moment in our conversation that I realized that our love for traveling was also about meeting people. We may never see these people again, but the time spent with them is wonderful.
SUNDAY: We hopped on the monorail to the Space Needle, but didn’t actually go into the Space Needle. Instead we walked the very long distance from there to the REI flagship store. It was far, it was cold, it was raining, but when we got there, it was worth it. This store was HUGE! It is so big that it actually has an outdoor bike trail so you can test the bikes before you buy one. I think we spent two hours there and probably could have spent more if we had more time. When we finally left, the sky was pouring down buckets of rain. There was no way we were going to walk back to the monorail (even though we paid for a round trip ticket, argh!) So we hopped on a public bus back to downtown. We encountered more interesting bus characters, in fact, the bus driver stopped to kick a drunk guy off. The guy teetered down the bus aisle with a vodka bottle in hand, my husband later told me he fully expected the guy to either fall, or throw up on him as he passed. Fortunately he did neither.
We hadn’t had lunch so we got off at the Public Market. We were determined to eat more seafood. That was the whole point of our trip and we barely felt we had any! So we stopped at Pike Place Chowder (http://www.pikeplacechowder.com/). Why hadn’t we gone there first? We shared a crab roll. A sandwich packed with fresh dungeness crab meat. We also had their four soup sampler: clam chowder, seafood bisque, seared scallop chowder and smoked salmon chowder. Hands down this was the best chowder I’ve ever had! I honestly couldn’t pick a favorite from the four. And mind you, they had at least four other flavors to try. I expected that the chowders would taste the same, just the ingredients would be different, for example, instead of clams, they throw in scallops. I was so wrong. Happily wrong. Each one had a different flavor and each one was delicious! It’s tough to get good clam chowder at restaurants, if they’re decent, they’re just that – only decent. Otherwise they’re lumpy, grainy or thick and lack seafood. Not with Pike Place Chowder’s award-winning soups. If I felt like I could eat more I would have!
From there we headed back to the hotel, picked up our luggage and hopped onto a public transit bus to the airport, which was a free ride! Nothing beats free! At the airport we had a couple of hours to kill. We had to try to eat at one more Seattle-based establishment! Just one more! We had fish and chips and clam and chips and cup of clam chowder each from Ivar’s (http://www.ivars.net/). Ivar’s won “Best Seafood in Western Washington” in 2008. Yuck, really? Granted we ordered fried food, but even then there’s a level of quality for fish and chips and they didn’t have it. It was just ok. Their clam chowder was a waste of money. I’ll probably be compare all chowders to Pike Place Chowder from here on out.
What we did, but didn’t discuss:
The Elliot Bay Book Company -- http://www.elliottbaybook.com/
The gum wall in Post Alley – so gross it’s mesmerizing http://www.wallstreetfighter.com/2007/03/seattle-wall-of-gum.html
Pike Place Brewing Company -- http://www.pikebrewing.com/: Family Owned, Cute bartender named Scott gave us free beer samples. My husband liked their “Kilt Lifter” and I liked their IPA.
Being budget conscious, we took the metro transit bus from SEA/TAC airport to our hotel. A taxi from the airport - $50. The bus from the airport - $1.75. The adventure – priceless. Our flight didn’t get in until after 10 p.m. so needless to say that when you’re taking the bus at that late hour, you get some interesting characters. Great for people watching if you can do it without making direct eye contact.
The bus dropped us off a half a block from our hotel, and what a hotel! Hands down, the Arctic Club Hotel in Seattle is the best hotel we’ve ever stayed in (http://www.arcticclubhotel.com/) and we chose that hotel because it offered one of the best-priced packages online! What a find. Our room looked just like the ones on the web site. The place is so classy, and the attention to detail is phenomenal. The hotel used to be a gentlemen’s club for the wealthy back in the Gold Rush days. You can easily envision these dapper men lounging around, smoking cigars and trading stories in front of the original fireplace and bar. We chose to go to Seattle because we knew it was a seafood town. We went with the mentality that we were going to eat at every moment we could. My husband and I had every intention of dumping our bags off in the room and heading straight back out to get some great food no matter what time it was, but by the time we checked in, who were we kidding? We were tired, it was freezing cold and the restaurants that served late night food were blocks and blocks away. Instead, we each took a stool at the hotel bar and practically stayed until closing.
We got to know the hotel’s bartender, Viktor. He came to the United States from Russia six years ago with his family when his wife won the American Green Card Lotto (Every year the U.S. government makes 50,000 green cards available to anyone who would like to apply). He has a 22-year-old son and a daughter that is in high school. Much to Viktor’s distaste, his son plays video games all day because he says he wants to do something with video game design. His daughter is truly daddy’s little girl. The warm smile on Viktor’s face when he talks about his daughter is one of pride and joy. His wife is a pastry chef at a different hotel. Viktor and his wife have been in the hotel business practically all their lives. He loves America, he loves Seattle. Before we all knew this about Viktor, we watched him easily chat with other bar patrons, pour drinks with ease, and we saw him treat a chapped and bleeding lip with vodka. Huh. An ancient family secret, perhaps? He got the lip from his daily morning run. As he dabbed vodka on his lip, he reminded us to make sure we wear lip balm as much as possible while we were here.
One of the first things I noticed when I crawled into bed was the smell of the sheets. It was fantastic. It was the smell of fresh laundry like you would get at home. Not that steamed, pressed dry cleaning smell you get from typical hotel bed sheets. It was such a subtle thing, yet so unique from any other hotel that I noticed it immediately and mentally checked of a dozen more star ratings for this hotel before I dozed off into a fitful sleep.
SATURDAY:
We took a ferry to Bainbridge Island. Bainbridge Island has a cute little town that reminded me of Catalina Island, but not as touristy. It didn’t quite have the foot traffic or the stores that you would have from a sightseeing attraction. It’s still very much a sleepy town, but my goodness it was beautiful. I’ve never been to Cape Cod, but Bainbridge is what I would picture it to be like. Lush and green with beautiful houses that dot the shoreline.
We had brunch at Café Nola (http://www.cafenola.com/). Was it worth the ferry ride, sure! Would we do it again? Probably not. My husband had the Dungness Crab Melt on focaccia bread and I had the Carmel Pecan French Toast, made on challah bread with orange bourbon butter and maple syrup.
From Bainbridge we headed to Pioneer Square and signed up for the Underground Tours (http://www.undergroundtour.com/). Our tour guide mentioned in passing that the Underground was voted one of the most haunted places in the United States and that the show, Ghost Hunters visited in 2007 and experienced quite a bit of paranormal activity. My husband loves that stuff. It was the one thing he needed to hear to immediately have a different appreciation for the tour. He started taking random photos in hopes that he’ll catch a glimmer of something. We have yet to review all his film, we’ll keep you posted if we see anything!
What I learned on the tour: There are over 20,000 coffee shops in Seattle. I believe it. In 4 blocks, we counted at least 6 Starbucks. We weren’t even counting the other types of coffee shops, like Tully’s.
The phrase “skid row” refers to a particular hilly street in Seattle where loggers would chuck trees down the street down to the lumber company. The logs would skid down the steep street right down to the lumberyard. The area later attracted riff raff and prostitution so the name stuck in reference and is now used in lower income areas as well. Kind of like…where I work! Isn’t that nice?
From Pioneer Square we walked to Pike Place Public Market (http://www.pikeplacemarket.org/frameset.asp?flash=true), one of Seattle’s famous landmarks. You’ve seen it on TV, where they throw fish? Except we didn’t see much fish throwing and it wasn’t what I expected it to be. It was intensely crowded and felt like Fisherman’s wharf in San Francisco -- a big tourist trap. The Market is made up of several different floors of shops that sell everything from jade to used clothing. We hadn’t eaten since brunch, so it was time to taste some of Seattle’s highly touted seafood. We stopped at the first place we came across because it was convenient because it was so crowded! At this open food stand called the Market Grill, we shared a grilled Cajun salmon sandwich. Delicious! It was just enough to tie us over, but not too filling where we wouldn’t have enough room for more food.
Outside of the main arcade, we stumbled across a little hole in the wall called, Emmet Watson’s Oyster Bar (http://www.yelp.com/biz/emmett-watsons-oyster-bar-seattle). Our menus were printed on greasy paper brown bags and the waiter barely acknowledged us let alone crack a smile. And is facial hair allowed in the restaurant business because I think he was sporting a beard. He was that unmemorable I can’t remember. We had the oyster special, which consisted of two raw oysters, two shrimp and a cup of chowder. We also had the steamed clams in garlic broth. Honestly? Neither was anything to write home about. What a huge disappointment. The chowder was lumpy, the clams were intensely fishy smelling and the broth was watered down and not very flavorful. * sigh *
A few doors down, a line was forming outside this small little shop selling piroshkis. Newspaper articles and a photo of the shop owner with Anthony Bourdain (one of my husband's idols) was the clincher for us to stand in line as well. We got an apple cinnamon piroshki and loved it. I only wish I had room to try their other flavors, like potato and mushroom, or the cheese piroshki. Yum! A few doors down from that was another line that was forming outside a shop. It turned out to be the very first Starbucks. I’m not sure what they were selling differently at this Starbucks that warranted a line, but we didn’t stick around to find out. Instead we headed to Beecher’s Handmade Cheese Company (http://www.beechershandmadecheese.com/). What a cool place! They make cheese on site, serve up grilled cheese sandwiches and the “world’s best” mac and cheese. I didn’t say that – someone classified it as such, in fact, their mac and cheese is constantly winning awards. I had to have some. I could not pass up one of my favorite comfort foods! I had an 8 oz. cup of mac and cheese and couldn’t finish it. It’s was so rich and cheesy I felt sick. Would I eat it again? Absolutely. In fact, I wish I had room to have eaten one of their grilled cheese sandwiches!
We did some window shopping and decided that while on the way home we’d pick up a bottle of local wine and call it a night. After walking through more rain and cold wind, opening up a bottle of wine and sitting in our cozy hotel room in bathrobes was the perfect ending to a busy day. That’s probably the most time we’ve ever spent just sitting in a hotel room. After we polished off the bottle of wine and regained warmth in our toes, ears and nose, we decided to head down to the hotel bar. We told Viktor we’d try the once illegal drink of absinthe, which they serve down at the Polar bar. And we’d give his cucumber gin and tonic a try, too.
Absinthe is historically described as a highly alcoholic (45%-74%) beverage that has an anise (licorice) flavor. It is commonly referred to as the Green Fairy. Absinthe was considered a dangerously addictive psychoactive drug and was banned in 1915. Ernest Hemingway drank his with champagne and called it “Death in the Afternoon.” It was brought back in the 1990s because no evidence has shown it to be any more dangerous than ordinary liquor. If you’ve watched your share of movies about demon chasers (Johnny Depp), and vampires, absinthe drinks are prominent. Look for the sugar cube, flame and green liquid. So did Absinthe have my husband and I seeing hallucinations? No. Did we like it? Not really. Watching Viktor make the drink it and seeing its presentation made it worth it just to give it a try. Viktor’s cucumber gin and tonic was much more simple. In fact, it was your classic gin and tonic with cucumber slices thrown in.
Sitting at the bar with us was a gentlemen by the name of Plato. Plato is originally from Florida. He was in Seattle to give a lecture about library data documentation. Snore. But he himself was an interesting and delightful man. I honestly can’t even remember what we talked about because we covered so many different topics, but there was a moment in our conversation that I realized that our love for traveling was also about meeting people. We may never see these people again, but the time spent with them is wonderful. SUNDAY: We hopped on the monorail to the Space Needle, but didn’t actually go into the Space Needle. Instead we walked the very long distance from there to the REI flagship store. It was far, it was cold, it was raining, but when we got there, it was worth it. This store was HUGE! It is so big that it actually has an outdoor bike trail so you can test the bikes before you buy one. I think we spent two hours there and probably could have spent more if we had more time. When we finally left, the sky was pouring down buckets of rain. There was no way we were going to walk back to the monorail (even though we paid for a round trip ticket, argh!) So we hopped on a public bus back to downtown. We encountered more interesting bus characters, in fact, the bus driver stopped to kick a drunk guy off. The guy teetered down the bus aisle with a vodka bottle in hand, my husband later told me he fully expected the guy to either fall, or throw up on him as he passed. Fortunately he did neither.
We hadn’t had lunch so we got off at the Public Market. We were determined to eat more seafood. That was the whole point of our trip and we barely felt we had any! So we stopped at Pike Place Chowder (http://www.pikeplacechowder.com/). Why hadn’t we gone there first? We shared a crab roll. A sandwich packed with fresh dungeness crab meat. We also had their four soup sampler: clam chowder, seafood bisque, seared scallop chowder and smoked salmon chowder. Hands down this was the best chowder I’ve ever had! I honestly couldn’t pick a favorite from the four. And mind you, they had at least four other flavors to try. I expected that the chowders would taste the same, just the ingredients would be different, for example, instead of clams, they throw in scallops. I was so wrong. Happily wrong. Each one had a different flavor and each one was delicious! It’s tough to get good clam chowder at restaurants, if they’re decent, they’re just that – only decent. Otherwise they’re lumpy, grainy or thick and lack seafood. Not with Pike Place Chowder’s award-winning soups. If I felt like I could eat more I would have!
From there we headed back to the hotel, picked up our luggage and hopped onto a public transit bus to the airport, which was a free ride! Nothing beats free! At the airport we had a couple of hours to kill. We had to try to eat at one more Seattle-based establishment! Just one more! We had fish and chips and clam and chips and cup of clam chowder each from Ivar’s (http://www.ivars.net/). Ivar’s won “Best Seafood in Western Washington” in 2008. Yuck, really? Granted we ordered fried food, but even then there’s a level of quality for fish and chips and they didn’t have it. It was just ok. Their clam chowder was a waste of money. I’ll probably be compare all chowders to Pike Place Chowder from here on out.
What we did, but didn’t discuss:
The Elliot Bay Book Company -- http://www.elliottbaybook.com/
The gum wall in Post Alley – so gross it’s mesmerizing http://www.wallstreetfighter.com/2007/03/seattle-wall-of-gum.html
Pike Place Brewing Company -- http://www.pikebrewing.com/: Family Owned, Cute bartender named Scott gave us free beer samples. My husband liked their “Kilt Lifter” and I liked their IPA.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)