June 27th-29th in NYC: Key Points

So, on June 27th, Rachael and I took a quick trip to New York City before our glorious week-long vacation in Rhode Island. After landing and getting settled, we decided to grab a bite to eat before meeting up with Aditya.

Our first stop featured some not-so-great pizza from a place that Rachael mistakenly took for a place she really liked. (The place she really liked was about 25 feet further down the street.) Our second slice came from the place 25 feet further down the street and was fantastic.

I guess the point is that if Rachael mentions she knows a good place for something, take a look up and down the street just to be sure she's thinking of the right place.

We finished the evening with sangria at some place in the village and got back to the hotel around 2, knowing we'd need a good night's rest before a) lunch at S'MAC the next day and b) drinks with my cousin Mona the next night.

So, S'MAC is a restaurant in the East Village dedicated solely to macaroni and cheese. Obviously I had to go. Especially after Jaya elected to not take me there last May. It was oppresively hot inside when we got there so we waited outside for Priyanka and looked over the menu.

I can't even remember what Rachael ordered because it paled in comparison to my concoction of cheddar and manchego cheeses with andouille sausage and mushrooms. If it wasn't the best mac n cheese I've ever had, it was close. Sure, it helps that I had been looking forward to it for a couple weeks and that I was quite hungry by the time we got there, but man, that was satisfying.

That evening, we met up with Mona and her roommate at Brother Jimmy's BBQ where Rach and I were exposed to something new: a 2 shot combo of Jameson and pickle juice (in that order).

Normally, I'd be slightly disinclined to such madness. I'm not a big whiskey drinker and I prefer my pickle juice in small quantities on pickles. But Mona ordered them and I didn't really have a choice so whatever. Jameson usually leaves a little burn in the throat and this time was no exception. However, the follow-up shot of pickle juice is a rather refreshing sensation and seems to balance out the Jameson. I'm assuming this combination was created to allow people to drink more Jameson.

Anyway, that night ended with Rach and I not paying for anything, shoving Mona in a cab, and walking to an all-night deli with Aditya and his sister for a mediocre (at best) sandwich.

All in all, a pretty good weekend.

All-time Favorite Characters

A little while ago, Rachael and I were discussing books and such because we're readers, (hopefully) not the pretentious kind though. She mentioned that she doesn't always think of favorite books, but favorite characters and scenes. That led to us tossing out a few names (we even agreed on one!) and got me thinking which characters I like best. I don't have the heart to rank these characters so I'll just rattle them off as they pop into my head.

Rob Fleming - High Fidelity:
Judgmental... neurotic... deluded... we have a lot in common.

Joshua/Jesus/Christ - Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal:
His knack for diving into things head first and ending up with nary a scratch on his head (no pun intended) reminds me of a couple friends.

Ford Prefect - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:
I dare you to not like him. He's the laid back, unwittingly cool galaxy-traveler so many of us would like to be.

Major Major Major Major - Catch-22:
Oh, you poor bastard. I can't help but laugh and feel sorry for him at the same time.

The Man - The Road:
His existence in Cormac McCarthy's post-apocalyptic America pretty much defines what it is to be a man/father.

Brutus - Julius Caesar:
Moral ambiguity! His choice to (repeatedly) oppose, appease, and eventually assassinate his friend/father figure for the good of the republic led to the destruction of his character and his death. There are few more tragic figures in history.

Thor - The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul:
Not all that you'd expect of a Norse god. Sure, he's angry at times and powerful but also a bit insecure and socially awkward.

Edmond Dantes - The Count of Monte Cristo:
His obsession with revenge and retribution provide a lesson for everyone.

Frederic Henry - A Farewell to Arms:
Hemingway's ultimate man's man. Nearly unshakable in the face of hardship, but maybe a little emotionally jaded, too.

Charlotte Simmons - I Am Charlotte Simmons:
Volumes could be written on this character and her constant transformation when she goes from a small Appalachian town to a large university.

So yeah, those are my favorites. I feel like there's some way to relate to all of them... except maybe Major Major. Do you, as one of the 3 people who actually read this occasionally, have any you'd like to share?

What Keeps Me Going

So, we're pretty much into the heart of baseball season and when your team is 2 games under .500, it's a little easy to start looking forward to the start of football season. However, there are a few things that can pull serious baseball fans of the mid-season slump (yes, even Nationals fans).

4) Seeing your highly-touted draft pick get called up for the first time:
I find myself in such a situation today. Former Bulldog superstar Gordon Beckham has been called up to the bigs and will be playing this afternoon with the Good Guys. Beckham was drafted 8th overall by the Sox last season and has been tearing it up in Birmingham and just recently in Charlotte. To the untrained eye, this might seem trivial, even mundane, but this provides a chance for every Sox fan to potentially see the start of a brilliant career. It's his first major league game and, fingers crossed, I'll be able to say I watched him wildly succeed our expectations right from the start.

3) The grand slam:
The bases are loaded. Everyone is thinking it, but nobody says it. Chances are the opposing pitcher has already thought about it. Hold your breath until the ball cracks off the bat like a gunshot and scream your lungs out until every last one of those runs crosses the plate. If you're fortunate enough to see one live, thank your lucky stars.

2) The walk-off home run:
You've sat through almost 15 innings of mind-numbingly defensive baseball and you know you're either running on 4 hours of sleep tomorrow or showing up late to work. There are few things more simultaneously exhilarating and relieving than finally exhaling and letting your shoulders drop when that ball drops into the outfield seats. Five minutes ago, you were close to nodding off in your seat, but you'll be damned if you're not checking ESPNews when you get home to see the replays. (Check out this gem from 2008, courtesy of Jim Thome.)

1) The no-hitter:
One of the ultimate achievements for a pitcher, the no-hitter is a combination of groin-grabbing excitement and vomit-inducing anxiety. When a pitcher has a shot at a no-no, you don't talk to him, you don't look at him, and you certainly don't mention the possibility of a no-hitter to anyone, anywhere. Heck, even TV commentators will avoid discussing the possibility until that 27th out has been made. Since 1876, there have only been 257 regulation no-hitters. So, yeah. It's a big deal.

May in Pictures

2009 Travel Plans

After an extended hiatus from updating this blog (fell asleep for almost 3 months), it's time to get things going again. I'm getting pretty excited about my travel plans for this year... especially since things are actually planned ahead and 2 of them include places I've never been to.

1. Trip to Boston in May: I've never been to Boston. It's time to take a trip. From what I've been told, Boston is a fantastic city for anyone remotely interested in American history (this guy) and/or seafood (also this guy). Plus, Rachael will be playing the roles of Girlfriend Extraordinaire and Tour Guide, we'll get to see Lauren and Rob, catch a Boston Pops concert, and maaaaaaaaaaaaybe a game at Fenway (fingers crossed).
   
2. Bachelor party in Vegas in June: Brian's getting married in July. The plan is to stay at the Imperial Palace (cheap!) and gamble, drink, and eat until we're broke, rich, or tired.
   
3. Trip to NYC and Rhode Island in July: I'm going to Rhode Island with Rachael and her family! There will probably be a quick stop in NYC on the way to catch up with friends and family followed by relaxing, seafood, and exploring the natural beauty that is Rhode Island.
   
4. Eventually, a weekend in Nashville: Well, we thought about a short trip to Nashville for the last weekend in March to catch up with Erin. However, she completely ruined everything by coming to Chicago that weekend. Way to go, E. In any case, I love Nashville and it'll be nice to have patio beers with my drink wife... despite the high risk of encountering country music.
   

That's all I've got for now. I'll be updating more often than once every 3 months. I promise.

Fauxlaroids

While making the internet rounds today, I stumbled upon a blog post that mentioned another blog post about this free software called Poladroid.

I think the idea is pretty fantastic. Since Polaroid isn't making instant film anymore, just take your digital pictures and Polaroidize(?) them up. Of course it's not the same as actually having a physical Polaroid but it's a nice little compromise if you're into that sort of thing. In any case, it doesn't just give your digital pics a frame that makes them sort of look like a Polaroid. It messes around with the color a bit and rocks some fantastic vignetting to come up with something that looks surprisingly authentic.

It's a fun program to keep around.

Here are a few examples of what it did to some of my digital pictures:

Day 1 – Friday, November 21st

I’ve woken up twice already; once at 5:15, and once at 6:27. Mom wakes me up at 7:22 to see if I want to have tea with her and my aunt. I do. The tea is made with more milk than water and it’s fantastic. However, it’s not fantastic enough to prevent me from going back to bed until 9:30. That’s when I start to feel guilty about staying in bed when I’m not really that tired anymore. After a quick breakfast and a shower, we hop in a car and head to my dad’s family’s home.

Four years is a long time. I recognize a few buildings on the way, but much of the scenery is different. Only visiting every few years, I have this idea in my head that no matter how much I change, India always stays the same. I expect to come back to the same place that I left last time but Delhi has changed far more in the past four years than I have. There are malls popping up everywhere, the Metro is simplifying the daily commute for hundreds of thousands. College kids are blasting remixed Hindi songs with reggaeton beats. And this is happening throughout the traditional working-class neighborhoods of Delhi; I’m not sure what to expect of my trip to Connaught Place tomorrow.

Dad’s family is different, too. My grandmother is looking her age. She’s still sharp as a tack, but each of those 97 years has taken its toll physically. One of my cousins just had a baby boy and she has started looking the part of a mother. Another cousin is far more… stout… than he was just four years ago. He’s getting married next Saturday. Another cousin is far prettier than I remembered. She’s getting married in two weeks.

The changes are sobering and exciting at the same time. I sit with my grandmother for an hour, holding her hand as she lies in bed. But then my aunt comes in with her handsome baby grandson. I’m not one who usually gets excited about babies, but I am right now because we lock eyes and I catch him smiling and reaching for my face with his tiny fingers. I’m fairly certain we have a deep connection.
From there, we head to another aunt’s house (dad’s sister) for lunch. There’s far too much sitting and talking before lunch and my uncle decides to deride my life choices after interrogating me. Lunch is good and it’s good to see that my aunt is sweet as ever. We head back to dad’s family’s home, sit around for a while, and then Mom and I go back to her sister’s.

I watch a little bit of cricket (Sri Lanka vs. Zimbabwe), we eat dinner, and I retire to my room. Before sleeping, I try to write a bit, which is surprisingly easy until I realize that I have no distractions, and then it’s less surprising but still just as easy. I plan on going to bed early, but for some reason, there are small firecrackers being detonated a couple blocks away and the upstairs neighbors are trying out their new subwoofer at full blast. Nobody seems to care how tired I am.

Arrival – Thursday, November 20th

Flying into Indira Gandhi Airport at night, Delhi doesn’t look like other large cities. That’s because it isn’t like other large cities. The airport has been somewhat renovated since I’ve been here last. I can’t tell if it’s structurally any different than it used to be, but the lighting is better and there have been some superficial improvements. Certainly, I’m in no shape to critique the airport as I arrive. However, I can tell without a doubt that it is cleaner than I remember.
After what seems like an eternity waiting for our baggage, we make our way to the reception area to look for our driver. He better have a picture of us or sign with our name on it because it is packed in here. He does have a sign. Mom, intent on being the worst traveler ever, walks right past him and I have to chase her down and let her know I’ve found our driver.

Pushing the luggage cart out into the night, the smelly, foggy, heavy, night, I make a promise to never utter a harsh word about American airports ever again. I’m weaving a luggage cart stacked with suitcases through moving traffic and fighting the urge to freak out any time a car gets close to hitting me, which is often. After making it to our car, I look back at the vast river of disorganized airport traffic and realize I only crossed about twenty feet of road. That’s when I realize that I could never live in India.

The drive to my aunt’s house (mom’s sister) is surprisingly pleasant. Traffic is heavier than one would expect at 11:30 pm on a Thursday, but the driver gets us home quickly and safely. Thankfully, the car has air conditioning so we are able to make the trip with the windows closed, avoiding the dust and exhaust that mix with oxygen and nitrogen to form ‘air’ in Delhi. Upon entering, I’m happy to see my aunt although she looks much, much older than I expected. After sitting and talking for a bit, I decide I’m still tired and retire for the evening, falling asleep around 1:00 am.

Departure – Wednesday, November 19th

I like to travel light. I use one checked suitcase. I carry a couple things in my backpack. My mother, however, knows that each passenger is allowed two checked items, one carry-on, and a personal item. She packs three suitcases, a carry-on, her laptop bag, and a second carry-on for me. So I guess I won’t be traveling light. After checking in and making our way through security, Mom decides she’s maybe kind of hungry but won’t decide where to eat. She claims to be ‘okay with anything’ but somehow rejects each eatery we pass. Twenty minutes later, she finally settles on McDonald’s of all places, and I decide this is not a good start to the trip.

Once we board the plane, I decide to put the rolling carry-on in an overhead compartment and keep my backpack underneath the seat in front of me. Mom, however, elects to keep her carry-on and her laptop bag at her feet, cutting down on the room available for my backpack and, therefore, my legs and feet. Fantastic. Oh, and she takes the aisle seat.

After 3 hours in the air, The Dark Knight, and some mediocre pasta with chicken, Mom decides she’d rather have the window seat. One would think I’d be used to dealing with all this after years of traveling with my mother, but, alas, no, I’m not. I take a Diazepam and sleep for a few hours, wake up for 2 hours, and sleep for a few more hours. I’m not sure how long I sleep on the plane, but it doesn’t feel like 15 hours. That’s partially because it hasn’t been 15 hours since takeoff. We’re told we will reach Delhi about an hour early.

Loyola @ #11 Purdue - 11/18/08

Purdue, 78 - Loyola, 46... and Rambler fans everywhere shed a single tear.