Burlington – Vermont

September 12, 2010

When I told Steve that I was planning on going to Montreal, he said I must bring them something French.

As I crossed the border leaving Canada, 3 things happened in quick succession:

1. I realized that I had failed to buy anything French for Steve and Diane.

2. I realized that I still had Canadian money left that I had failed to spend.

3. I realized that there was a duty free shop on my left that I was about to drive right by if I failed to act fast.

I succeeded in acting fast, and went in the shop.

I bought some maple syrup with my remaining 10 Canadian bucks.

Not exactly French. Not exactly thoughtful or generous. But at least I’m owning up to my less than prouder moments.

We entered New York and hung a quick left, which immediately put us in Vermont.

Vermont was like a New England theme park. Everything was pristine and perfect. Fancy people were biking, boating, lunching, and walking amid idyllic scenery.

I found myself worrying about where Kettle would poop.

Our destination was Burlington – the smallest American city that is a state capital.

Burlington’s downtown shopping street is called Church Street. The buildings are old (in a good way). The shops are interesting. The street is wide. And at the end of the street is a beautiful church.

If I had walked down Church St. on a normal day, I would have said, “This would be a great place for a street fair!”

But it must not have been a normal day, because I instead said, “Hey, there’s a street fair!”

People were everywhere.

Adding to the local charm, there was a summer-long art festival featuring art-cows, pieces of art the size and shape of cows, stationed along the street. The name of the festival is “The Cows Come Home To Burlington.”

Okay, then.

That night, Church Street was once again full of people. The University of Vermont, just up the street, was back in session and all the kids were out enjoying their first Saturday night.

I went to a bar where I sat outside, had a local beer, and listened to a good band. (Or maybe it was a good beer and a local band … it was some combination of those.)

But instead of going back to my dorm, I went back to my tent.

Yes, Kettle and I finally camped again. Weather didn’t permit it the entire time we were in Canada, but our vacation from camping finally came to an end, and we stayed at a campground just outside of town.

Kettle wasn’t too happy about it. He prefers motels.

It’s nice here. 

Finally posing at an antique shop for mom 

A street fair! 

I feel like I’m being watched. 

But can you do this? 

You can’t take me here and not give me ice cream. 

I’m done with the cows.

Portland – Maine

September 13, 2010

From Burlington, we drove east across Vermont, then across New Hampshire, and into to Portland, Maine.

It was a spectacular drive, featuring beautiful landscapes, cool old towns, and a delightful vanilla milkshake.

In Portland, we checked into a motel, then drove downtown and ate at a brewpub called Gritty’s. I had Blackened Haddock (the local fish that’s not lobster).

That’s it for today.

But there’s something else I should tell you about. It happened a couple days prior, in Montreal.

During the 20 minutes that Kettle and I were exploring Montreal’s Mont Royal park, someone broke into the Mini and stole my laptop.

It was my fault. I forgot to cover up the laptop, and so it was slightly visible. Due to my carelessness, I came back to a car that had neither my computer, nor a back side window.

While I cleaned up broken glass, Kettle happily lay on the sidewalk watching. He was not at all bothered by the situation, which helped me keep some perspective. They say dogs help reduce high blood pressure … this was a perfect example.

I went to the nearby Apple Store and bought a new MacBook Pro. There was also a Mini dealership in Montreal, but it was late Friday afternoon and the service department was closed till Monday – so the window would have to wait.

From Montreal to Burlington, having Kettle’s window “open” wasn’t a problem. But when I left Burlington, it was about to rain, so I took out my tent cover and wrapped it around the window, securing it by closing the hatchback and passenger doors onto each end. It worked pretty well.

By the time I was in New Hampshire, I was starting to feel better about the whole ordeal.

So I treated myself to a milkshake.

Vermont State Capital in Montpelier 

Street in Montpelier 

Bridge in Montpelier 

Store in Montpelier 

The Road to Maine 

Looking for a bridge 

Conway, New Hampshire 

Boston – Massachusetts

September 14, 2010

I started the day by doing triangles with a dozen older ladies and one older gentleman.

It was a Iyengar yoga class, where you do fewer poses but do them longer. In this case, we spent about half an hour doing triangle poses.

(If you don’t know what a triangle pose is, imagine doing a cartwheel, but freezing right before your feet leave the ground. It’s something like that. If you know what a triangle pose is, then please forgive me for just saying that.)

After class, we drove 3 hours to MINI of Peabody, where they fixed my car window.

Peabody is on the outskirts of Boston.

Peabody is pronounced Peebidee.

That’s all I know about Peabody.

(No, you thought it wrong again. It’s Peebidee, remember?)

After that, I met Nanette and Tony for dinner. They live in San Francisco in the same condo complex as me. I know Nanette because we go to the same yoga studio … Pretzel’s Yoga & Pilates.

Nanette and Tony also have a great place in the South End of Boston, and I met them there for a glass of wine before we walked over to a fabulous dinner at Legal Seafood. Legal Seafood has the reputation as the best place in Boston for seafood, and based on the crab cakes and the Atlantic salmon that I had, I have no qualms about spreading the word.

And Nanette and Tony were super nice hosts, so I’ll spread the word about that too.

The next morning Kettle and I went sightseeing. We did this in two ways:

1) We walked from Beacon Hill (fancy houses & shops) to the North End (Little Italy) and back.

2) We drove to random places because we missed the proper on or off ramps.

I can’t believe that I said that driving in Quebec was difficult. Compared to Boston, Quebec was like navigating a Drive-Thru.

I was using my iPhone GPS, and it worked like a charm. A bad luck charm. A voodoo doll that you stick needles in. Something that you don’t want anywhere near you. Something bad.

But Boston is great, and I’m glad I went.

And as an added bonus, I managed to find my way out.


Westport – Connecticut

September 17, 2010

Next stop: Westport, Connecticut.

Why Westport?

Because my cousins, Lou and Dorothy, live there. Lou’s mother and my dad’s mother were sisters.

I arrived at 7:30 and was welcomed with wine and appetizers, then a delicious dinner of roasted chicken and vegetables that Lou grew on his plot in a community garden. Plus a green bean salad made with beans from a line of seeds that Lou’s family has maintained for decades.

I felt at home.

The next morning Lou and Dorothy’s daughter, Gina, came over with her three-year-old twins, Nathan and Elaina. The kids flew out of the mini van and stopped moving only once – to pose for a picture. Well, they didn’t really stop, but they slowed down at least

I then took the train into Manhattan. Kettle stayed at home with Dorothy, where he made sure that the big house and yard were fully appreciated.

I did 3 things in NYC that afternoon and evening:

1. I met up with Katherine, who is another daughter of Lou and Dorothy’s that lives and works in the city. We had coffee near Grand Central Station.

2. I met up with David Lipa, the significantly younger brother of my friend Bill. When Bill and I were in high school, Davey had just been born. Davey now does things like start companies, write novels, and hang out with New York models. We had drinks in SOHO.

3. I met up with Brion, a friend of Davey’s, who is a graphic designer and may help out with my game. We had gourmet smoothies and talked shop.

I then took the train back Westport, where Kettle met me at the door. He seemed quite at home with Dorothy and Lou.

And he’s not even related.

My original plan was to head to Washington D.C. the next day, but that changed because of what Davey told me while having drinks:

“You should stay and party at least one night in New York. It’s fashion week.”

I didn’t know what fashion week was, but I played along.

“You can come with me to an art gallery reception tomorrow. My girlfriend can get us in. And then maybe we’ll go out with her and her model friends.”

I called Steve in D.C. and told him I’d be a day late.

The next day in Westport I went to a yoga class, had a nice lunch with Lou and Dorothy (I had a swordfish wrap!), toured Lou’s community garden, and gave Kettle a much needed bath. I then took the train to Grand Central Station and walked to the Haunch of Venison art gallery on the 20th Floor of a midtown skyrise.

While I was on the train, Dorothy called and told me to be careful because there was just a tornado in Brooklyn.

It would be hard for anyone to say which was more odd:

a) that I was on a train to a trendy NYC art gallery reception

b) that the name of the gallery was “Haunch of Venison”


c) that there was a tornado in Brooklyn.

But there’s no doubt that the exhibition itself (Patricia Piccinini: Not As We Know It) was more odd than any of those things.

Her sculptures were partly human, partly animal, and completely freaky. Supposedly the things sell for hundreds of thousands of dollars. Nonetheless, you may want to skip the pictures.

I found Davey, who had just been in Brooklyn during the tornado and seen people outside running for cover. He introduced me to his girlfriend Emma, who works at the gallery, and his friend Ari, a writer originally from Santa Cruz.

After the show, Emma wasn’t able to take us out with her friends, so Davey, Ari and I did the next best thing.

We went to an Asian noodle place, where I gorged myself on Saigon noodles with vegetables.

Then Ari broke off, and Davey and I had a drink at the W, where two attractive girls in their early 20′s sat down and started talking to us.

Well, they sat down next to Davey and started talking to him.

But I was there.

It was then that I got a text from my cousin Katherine, asking if I was still in the city and whether we wanted to meet her and her boyfriend at a nearby bar.

Davey was fine with leaving the two girls – because he’s with Emma.

I was fine with leaving the two girls – because of the creepy rule: half my age plus 7 was more than their age.

And they weren’t talking to me anyway.

So we met Katherine and her guy, had beer and conversation, and played a bit of shuffleboard. I then caught a train back to Westport.

It was a good night. Nothing to write home about … but that’s not the standard for this blog.


Slowing Down 

Me, Lou, and Lou’s Beans 

Emma and Davey 

Thing 1 

Thing 2 

Thing 3 

Thing 4 

Thing 5 – front 

Thing 5 – Back

Vienna – Virginia

September 24, 2010

Two friends for me. Two friends for Kettle.

The two friends for me are Steve and Diane. Steve and I were in the same freshman dorm in college, and we’ve been friends ever since. Diane showed up a couple years later, and the three of us have been even better friends ever since.

The two friends for Kettle are Calvin and Zack. Calvin is a 13 year old Australian Shepherd, and Zack is an 11 year old Chow mix. Calvin is an old and wise dog. Zack is not as old, nor as wise – but makes up for it with enthusiasm.

Steve and Diane have a house in Vienna, Virginia, which is about 20 miles west of Washington D.C. Diane is an OB-GYN, and Steve in the State Department.

I like them. I like their house. I like their dogs. I like their friends. And I like their Internet connection.

So I haven’t left yet.

I’ve been here a week.

When I arrived last Friday, we immediately went out to meet some of their friends for dinner in Arlington.

I must tell you what I had for dinner …

Fried chicken and waffles.

Fried chicken and waffles, all of it covered with a maple butter syrop.

That’s right.

Apparently this dish is quite the craze around here. Understandably.

The next night we were part of a progressive dinner with another set of friends. We were responsible for the last course: dessert.

I must tell you about the dessert …

It was cake.

The cake was made with batter.

The batter was made with a pint of melted Ben & Jerry’s ice cream mixed into it.

That’s right.

Diane asked Steve and me to get the ice cream when we went to the store. We chose the “Boston Cream Pie” flavor because we liked the idea of cake ice cream within cake. (Boston Cream Pie is cake, not pie.) (Although, in this case, it was ice cream, not cake.) (But, also in this case, it ended up being cake.)

The cake was as good as you would expect it to be.

That good.

While we were eating cake, Zack the dog was in my room eating half a bag of Glycocyamine dog treats that he found in my bag.

While we were sleeping, Zack was having diarrhea all over the family room and living room carpets.

In the morning we cleaned up the worst of it, then Steve and I went to a yoga class, while Diane went to the store, rented a steam cleaner, and cleaned the carpets.

Totally unfair. Diane’s a trooper.

A pooper trooper.  🙂

We all then went on a hike to see the Great Falls. Calvin had to stay at home because his hips. Zack had to come with us because of his bowels. Kettle had his choice, and he came.

The Great Falls were good.

We then had a nice lunch out. A nap. And a nice dinner in.

When Monday rolled around, Steve and Diane went back to their busy lives, while I stayed and lingered around.

My days have been filled with working on my game, walking the dogs, helping with dinner, and doing yoga (I signed up for an “All the Hot Yoga You Can Do In Week” promotion for $20).

One night Steve took me to his gym where I joined him and his swim club for a one hour swim workout.

I’m not doing that again.

On Wednesday, I finally took Kettle into town to see our nation’s capitol.

We saw the Capitol Building, the Supreme Court, and the Library of Congress. We then walked back past the Capital, down the Mall towards the Washington Monument.

As we walked down the left side of the mall, I watched the sun set just to the left of the Washington Monument.

About 20 seconds after the sun had fully set, I realized that if I had been walking down the middle of the mall, rather than on the left, the sun would have set directly behind the Washington Monument.

About 15 seconds later, I remembered that today was the Fall Equinox.

About 10 seconds later I realized that whoever designed the placement of the Capitol Building and the Washington Monument must have intentionally lined them up so that during the equinox someone could stand between the two buildings and admire what must be an incredible sight of watching the sun set down behind the Washington Monument.


Damn. Damn. Damn.

45 seconds too late.

Anyway …

It’s Friday again, and I’m still here. I’ll let you know when I leave.

Home for the week 

Welcome to my new place. 

Diane & Steve being Diane & Steve 





Great Falls 

Senator Kettle 

Justice Kettle

Vienna 2 – Virginia

September 28, 2010


I’m still here.

I was going to leave a couple days ago. Really, I was.

But I lost my wallet.

I lost my wallet because of a Kid’s Scoop of Chocolate Fudge ice cream.

It’s been hot while driving across the country, and as I result my car ran low on coolant. So Friday afternoon I drove to the Vienna auto parts store to get some. I went to the Mini to add the coolant, but I decided to wait a bit to let the engine cool down (that’s what it says to do). In the mean time, I went to the Baskin Robbins across the street and ordered a scoop.

I’m not sure exactly what happened, but I must have put my wallet on the counter to take the ice cream and been so captivated by the Chocolate Fudge that I failed to retrieve my wallet.

I realized that evening that I didn’t have my wallet, but when I returned to Baskin Robbins, they said they didn’t have it.

Staying in motels with a dog requires plastic, so I called the banks to get new credit/debit cards sent here to Steve and Diane’s house. It takes 5-7 business days to get the new cards. So I’ll be here for a while longer.

When I told this to my mom, she said I was going to start smelling like a fish.

I talk to my mom almost every day, and she’s my favorite person in the world, but I had no idea what she meant.

She explained that people say that a guest who stays over three days begins to smell like a fish.

I Googled it and found that it’s a Benjamin Franklin quote: “Guests, like fish, begin to smell after three days.”

Surely not.

Lexington – Virginia

October 5, 2010

After sixteen and a half days, my vacation’s vacation came to an end.

I received my Capital One credit card and my Wells Fargo debit card in the mail, so I was good to go.

I will miss Steven and Diane, Calvin and Zack. So will Kettle. But we have more places to go and people to see.

And there’s that fish thing.

Our first day of travel took us through the scenic Shenendoah Valley. We stopped at some caverns, where I marveled at the brochure and explored the gift shop. I didn’t actually go into the caverns, but I did bring Kettle to see the miniature train that takes kids for rides near the cavern entrance.

No one was around, so I took the opportunity to have Kettle get into one of the train seats so I could take his picture.

Kettle took the opportunity to assert that he’s a 95 pound Rottweiler / German Shepherd mix that won’t be cajoled into getting into a kiddie train.

We also stopped at James Madison University because James Madison is one of the most underrated of the AmericanI founders and because that’s where I found myself after pulling off the highway to go pee.

We spent the night in Lexington, Virginia. It’s not the Lexington from the battle of Lexington and Concord, but it is the Lexington that is home to the home of General Stonewall Jackson.

And that’s good enough for me.

Dog Not On Board 

Dog On Campus 

The day’s route.

Asheville – North Carolina

October 6, 2010

First, a quick update: I received email from Steve saying that I never smelled like a fish.

He also informed me, referring to our swim workout, that I did not swim like one either.

Anyway, back in Asheville, Kettle and I stayed in a bizarre downtown motel, where each room had a front wall that was almost entirely window. There was a shade, of course, but it was still a bit creepy.

The next morning we picked up Kate, then went for a drive and a hike.

The hike was really nice. Kate and I reminisced about the past, while Kettle lived in the moment.

It had rained recently, so while Kate and I were walking gingerly to avoid water and mud, Kettle was launching himself headlong through the soggy wilderness. At one point he sprinted ahead out of sight, then, after a few minutes with no sign of him, he suddenly came charging up from behind us. I don’t know how he did it, but he was quite pleased with himself.

After the hike we had a late lunch, followed by a long coffee. By the time I left, it was after 4pm. My destination was Auburn, Alabama – which meant driving across the corner of South Carolina, then through Georgia, then into Alabama.

And so, for the first time this trip, I drove through an entire state at night.

Sorry, Georgia. I hope to see you, better, next time.

Kettle brakes for a treat 

Kate and Kettle: Happy Hikers 

Asheville to Auburn 

Pensacola – Florida

October 8, 2010

We’re going to New Orleans.

But getting to The Big Easy in one day would not be easy, so we went to Pensacola first.

Our two stops along the way were Auburn University and the Alabama State Capital in Montgomery.

Across the street from Auburn University, I had an early lunch at a BBQ place, where I ordered a “BBQ Salad” (lettuce with some sort of barbecued meat on top).

Outside the Alabama State Capital, Kettle pee’d on the Governor’s private parking space.

If anyone from Alabama ever reads this, you can let me know which of the above two things was more inappropriate.

So we were going to Pensacola for two reasons: the white sand beaches and, of course, the Wednesday evening “Happy Hour Yoga” class.

The Abhaya Yoga Center’s web site did not explain why the class was called “Happy Hour Yoga.” I was hoping that there was some sort of drinking involved. A long shot, I know, but every yoga class is different.

Alas, it was just a normal class. No open bar. No bar at all.

I guess it was was called “Happy Hour Yoga” because the other classes are 90 minutes, so people at this class can be happy it’s only an hour.

The next morning I took Kettle to the beach. We drove out over Pensacola Bay, across the Gulf Breeze peninsula, and onto the Gulf Islands National Seashore.

We played on the beautiful white sand beach.

For an hour.

And were happy.

I smell BBQ … 

Alabama Capital, with monument to the Confederacy 

Segregate this. 

A statue, with pet, in Pensacola. 

First one’s to the beach! 

I can work with this. 

I’ll be over here. 

Why aren’t you doing this? 

This was totally worth the drive. 

You’re welcome, Kettle. 

Auburn to Pensacola 

New Orleans – Louisiana

October 9, 2010

La Quinta Inn – downtown, near the French Quarter.

A room on the 8th Floor.

A dog that won’t go into elevators.

A good friend, Don, who was vacationing for the week in New Orleans, along with his wife, Melissa, and friends, Mike and Marnie.

A Hurricane and an Alligator Po-Boy.

An eye-opening walk down Bourbon Street.

Being scolded in a voo-doo shop for touching.

Another Hurricane in a really big glass.

A great Blues band.

A successful run at a Craps table at Harrah’s, plus free beer.

A midnight walk with a dog that approves neither of Bourbon Street nor of midnight walks nor of the intoxication that would cause his owner to think that a midnight walk down Bourbon Street with a 95 dog was a good idea.

A sound sleep.

An all-morning walk in and about the French Quarter.

Antique store window shopping.

Three beignets with a coffee.

A nice conversation with a couple from Ohio.

A quick stop at a a bayou next to the highway leading out of town.

20 excellent hours in New Orleans.

Marnie, Mike, Melissa, and Don. 

My first time to Bourbon St. 

Blues break 

My second and Kettle’s first time to Bourbon St. 

Tourist shot. 

Shot of tourists. 

Beignet Buddies 

Kettle, what a big mouth you have. 

The Bayou. I think. 

Pensacola to New Orleans 

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