We're off to see St Judy, the wonderful diva of.....Grand Rapids.

Howdy Doody BlogFiends!  Thought I should come up with a different greeting from the normal one.  How's that for a starter?

Tuesday morning loomed long and large.  We had more work to do, for me some reading of an awesome book by Chris Orwig, photographer and super chap, and James had work to do for an online class that he is teaching.  We also had a date with a certain movie star in mind.  So with that we set off for the town of Grand Rapids, MN, about a 1 hour drive or so from Garrison.  It was a pleasant drive with nice scenery and no untoward events....except the bird that flew straight into the radiator of the Pathfinder with a loud thud and a flurry of feathers.  The bird wins the headache of the day award, methinks.

Arriving in Grand Rapids we turned to the trusty GPS and Bing Maps to find a local Starbucks to camp out at.  Alas, we were out of luck it seems with the only Starbucks in the entire town being a licensed concept store located in Target.  Call me a snob but having worked for Buckies for over 7 years in corporate stores, licensed concept locations and their lack of beverage standards are not on my menu.  So we spied a Caribou Coffee location a little way down the street and settled in there.  I have to say that the coffee was pretty good too!  They looked a little flumoxed when we asked them to make us a french press of coffee so we settled for an Americano for James and a Mocha for me instead and settled in for a few hours.  A pleasant experience indeed.  James typed away and I read away, all the while watching the comings and goings of various Minnesotans and their caffeinated habits.

Soon, however, it was time to leave.  We had a definite mission at hand, and those of you who use Facebook or Twitter to keep up with our adventures will know what the mission was.  You see, Grand Rapids is no ordinary town.  It is the birthplace of none other than St Judy herself.  Yes, dear reader, your happy homos were here to make a pilgrimage to the Judy Garland Birth House Memorial Museum and Historical Exhibition.

Could we be any gayer?

With barely contained excitement we went back to the car, re-programmed the GPS and sped off towards Mecca.  With no idea what to expect our imaginations went crazy.  Would there be a real life animatronics version of Judy at the entrance?  Would there be an interactive re-enactment of Liza's birth?  Would we be able to cluck appreciativly at the stupendous collection of Cecil Beaton costumes that had been designed for Judy in her many movie roles?  And then we arrived.

Located right on the main road, highway 169, with traffic thundering past, was a small sign that read Judy Garland Museum.  There were no dancing girls wearing snappy outfits and red sequined hats.  There were no munchkins ready to offer us a lick of their lollipops.  There was no walking, talking version of Liza Minelli, with Lorna and Sid Luft walking deferrentially two paces behind.  Instead there was an ordinary building with a sign. Just a sign, saying "This Way to the Judy Garland Birth House Memorial Museum and Historical Exhibition".  For a moment we looked perhaps a little crestfallen, and then, remembering that Judy was nothing if not a trooper of the first degree, we picked up our smiles and swept forward, radiating a smile that would have knocked the socks of Louis B Meyer, and entered the museum front door.

James listening to Judy sing in the museum

Once inside we came face to face with a delightful lady, wearing an odd looking frock that was an alarming shade of green, who informed us that we had to pay the princely sum of $8 each to proceed any further.  With credit card at hand we paid the fee, snatched up the photocopied map and sailed through the doors into the exhibition. 

The museum was completely different to anything that I was expecting.  Despite the fact that Judy Garland was a major star, and love her or hate her, and an important part of cinema history, the museum was suprisingly without pretension or glitz.  It had been set up by a group of people who were really proud of the the fact that Judy Garland was from Grand Rapids, MN, and had spent all their time collecting memorabilia from around the world.  They had even managed to secure her house.  There was no fancy lighting or glitzy corridors lined with costumes and gold discs.  There were no dancing ponies or munchkins.  Just a treasure trove of Judy stuff to look at.  Playbills, photographs, a few dresses, telegrams, and of course the house in which she lived were the crux of the exhbition.  There was a letter on the wall from Liza thanking the people for honouring her mother, and also a mention of that other deity, Barbra Streisand, who had donated funds to support the museum (bless!).  It was a remarkably honest and down to earth rememberance of a star who started out in humble beginnings, and who, through little fault of her own, ended up in a humble and sad ending.

Will the real Judy please stand up!

We went from section to section of the museum, marvelling at the material that had been amassed, and then toured the house that Judy (or Frances Ethel Gumm as she was christened) was born and raised in.  It was all very special and heart warming.  She was, and is, such a special lady.  All joking aside she was someone who has inspired many a person to move forward in their lives and I am glad that people have the chance to see and learn something about here.  And of course to visit THE GIFT SHOP!

How could there be a Judy Garland Birth House Memorial Museum and Historical Exhibition but no gift shop?  We were not dissapointed.  Although modest it had just the kind of campy "trinkerama" that one would expect to find.  Wizard of Oz lunchboxes, ruby slipper badges and brooches, assorted books, postcards, mugs, creepy Judy Garland dolls, etc etc etc.  The list just went on.  There was even a very large picture of Andy Williams, who was the guest of honour at this years Judy Garland festival that had taken place at the Judy Garland Birth House Memorial Museum and Historical Exhibition earlier this year (The picture looked like it was from the 1970s and I am sure that he is about 97 now).  But the biggest prize of all, apart from the foam "yellow bricks" that you could purchase for 50c each, was the set of Glinda and Dorothy Salt and Pepper shakers.  Glinda, the Good Witch of the North and Dorothy Gale of Kansas sculpted in porcelain, with holes drilled in their heads (three in Glinda (p), one in Dorothy (s)) and with clever little magnets to hold them close together.  No matter that Dorothy looked like she had been hit in the face with a brick and that Glinda looked her make up had been done by Robert Smith of The Cure.  These, dear readers, are insignificant minor details that mean nothing to Friends of Dorothy from all over the world.  And so, with credit card in hand, we forked over the requisite $12 to have these ceramic morsels enter our lives.  You may or may not be fortunate enough to see them on the dinner table when you next come over for dinner.  If not, then consider yourself persona non-grata and be gone...before someone drops a house on you!

"If I only had a brain"

With that, dear reader, we left the Judy Garland Birth House Memorial Museum and Historical Exhibition (don't you think the title just rolls of the toungue after a while?).  Waiting outside was the Wizard of Oz wooden cut out display where children could put their heads.  Well, seeing as we are all children at heart, it was too good an opportunity to miss!  I, being the perfectionist that I am, made James put his head in all of the holes and pose for photographs, presented here.  I am sure that you will agree that the one of him as Dorothy is just perfect and more than a little disturbing, seeing as how his eyes are so close to the top of the cutout head.  Bless him and St Judy!  You can see all of the shots here on this page, including one of yours truly, your blogmeister as well.

And with that, dear reader, our trip was done.  We spent the rest of the afternoon tootling around Grand Rapids, MN, and then headed back to Garrison.  Garrison seemed a strange and quiet place after having been to the Judy Garland Birth House Memorial Museum and Historical Exhibition.  But we cooked our dinner on the grill, washed our dishes, and retired to bed, thinking that for the next few days our cabin in Garrison was home, and that there really is no place like it.

Big Love,

D&J

P.S.  Don't forget that you can now follow us on Twitter for the microblog updates too!  David can be found as dnmartin98 on Twitter so hurry along and follow us!  You wouldn't want to miss anything would you!

Where to now, chaps?

Uh oh.....

"If I only had some courage!"

"If I only had a heart"

Lesbians, Bugs, and Bicycles.

Greetings all!

Sunday morning dawned bright and early at Camp Moi.  To be precise it was about 4am.  Our bijou little home doesn't include curtains really....just a few thin cotton pieces strung over the window.  Even if they had been heavier it wouldn't have drowned out the shrieking of the Loons on the lake (no I am not talking about the tea party either).  Still, a well placed pillow over the top of the head allowed a few more hours of sleep sending us through to about 8am.

Once we were up and in the land of the semi living, things didn't seem quite so bad.  James took a look around him and realised that maybe he had judged the placed through jaded, distant, and tired eyes.  The place didn't seem nearly as dire in the daylight.  Yes the sofa, walls, bed, vinyl, etc was still there.  But he seemed a little more content with it all.  I, the hardier one of the two of us when it comes to roughing it (yes, dear reader, I am deathly serious.  You may find me at Claridges or the Four Seasons when funding permits, but I am always happy to go camping and do adventurous things...like shopping in the dollar store) just smiled and nodded sagely.

Sunday was to be an easy day.  We had some chores and work to do, so we headed off to Brainerd (such an odd name).  We needed to find a laundromat/laundrette, James had two hours of work to do online, and I had to wrap up my last time sheet for Cisco.  So we spent most of the morning and some of the afternoon there, stopping to pick up a lovely Weber charcoal grill from Home Depot for $30 on the way home so that we didn't have to go back to the Blue Goose and be intimidated by Sherry and The Hydraulic Boobs (wouldn't that be an awesome name for a country western band?)

We did, however, go for a bike ride when we returned to Camp.  It was to be our first piece of real exercise since leaving Kentucky back on the morning of July 30th.  So in the heat we straddled the saddles and pushed off down the driveway for a ride into Garrison.  It was very pleasant, with the exception of some fat, lard ass trucker who tried to knock us off our bikes deliberately when we tried to cross the road.  A shake of my fist and an evil stare made me feel better, though I still peddled hard to make sure that I was safely on the other side of the road before he could get me.  But other than that, the ride was largely lovely and uneventful.  We totalled about 7 miles all told before panting back up the hill to the resort, gasping for a glass of wine.  Yes, dear readers, we are destined to be two old fat knackers by the time we return to Hebron in a week.  Ah well....C'est la Vie!  Dinner was grilled on the new BBQ and we turned in for the night.

Monday dawned with another early start, though this time I had a horrid headache that made me retreat under the covers for a while longer.  Ibuprofen and coffee soon sorted me out and we set off to enquire about fishing trips.  One of the demons that James is keen to lay to rest on this trip is "The Fishing Trip with Dad".  I gather that there was a trip with his dad in the dim and distant past which involved James not doing very well with his rod (ahem...) and his Dad yelling at him and calling him a duffer.  Consequently, the fishing trip demon needs to be dealt with.  Having asked the owner of the resort, Orin, and our next door neighbours at the site, Earl and Marty, which was a good company to take a trip with we had settled on Garrison Sports.  Having been told that The Blue Goose fishing trips were always full of drunken yahoos we had figured that that would not be good for James' delicate fishing constitution.  So off we toddled toward the aforementioned place to enquire about the details of "getting yer rod on....." as I like to refer to it.

Pulling up at Garrison Sports I was a little puzzled as to a sign outside that said "Bear bait here".  Those of you who are Friends of  Dorothy too will understand that this is not the kind of thing that you expect to see outside a fishing shop.  Having been referred to as Bear Bait before, I stepped gingerely inside.  Stepping up to the counter triggered a very nice lady to appear from the backroom and she smiled broadly at us both.  James, instantly at ease, started on his whole talk about wanting a fishing trip and being a novice, and not having done it  for years etc.  The women nodded appreciatively and before too long they were getting on fabulously.  Meanwhile I, the observant one, had noticed a very prominent HRC equal rights sticker affixed to the front of the counter.  I hissed "James, look" and pointed to the sticker.  He ignored me, as usual, and carried on with his new best friend.  After a few minutes, I tried again...."James, have you seen this?" I whispered.  Still I was ignored.  This, dear reader, is a normal but frustrating sense of affairs.  I mention something or point something out and am duly "tuned out", only for James to suddenly "discover" the thing that I mentioned and pretend that he was the one who first found it.  Sure enough a split second later James looked down and saw the sticker.  "Oh look", he said to the owner, you have an equal rights sticker on your counter".  The owner smiled and said "Yes, my daughter is..." and stopped.  You could see the calculation taking place in her brain....and then looking at both of us (who must have appeared a safe bet" continued "a lesbian".  And it that point it was like everyone was family.  She and James continued chatting up a storm and I was left to mooch around the store looking at the various shapes and sizes of rods and poles.

Before long, husband of female owner appeared behind the counter too.  By this point James had decided that we were going fishing on the Wednesday morning trip (8am -12pm).  Surprise!  That was also the trip that was being captained by the lesbian daughter and her significant other.  James, thrilled at the idea, was clearly in his element.  All memories of "The Fishing Trip from Hell" seemed to have vanished.  As husband of female owner approached, his wife turned to him and said "These two gentlemen noticed the equality sticker on the counter!"  At which point, husband turned round, took one look at us, and then, in a voice that boomed throughout the ENTIRE STORE and shook the rafters, said in a broad and resonating Minnesota accent "Ah, homo's are you then?"

Now, dear reader, I am not easily caught off guard.  But this is deepest and darkest Minnesota we are in.  Paul Bunyon may look like an escapee from the gay bar, circa 1982, but it still doesn't strike me as the last bastion of tolerance, especially with fruit cakes like Michelle Bachmann liable to be lurking behind a pillar.  A quick look around assured me that there was no one else within earshot and that we were safe.  James at this point had first laughed nervously and then said "yes" to husband owner.  At which point everyone chuckled and we carried on pretending that we were in an episode of The Walton's.  And with that, we all shook hands and sealed the deal.  Yes, we are booked on a fishing trip in Garrison, MN on Wednesday morning with a couple of lesbians.  Is Garrison ready for this?  Although slightly alarming at first, it was heartening and lovely that the owners had so straight forwardly embraced us and their daughter.  I can't wait till Wednesday to tell her about it!

The afternoon took us off to Kathio State Park for a hike.  Arriving, we checked in at the visitors office, bought our state park permit and headed on to the hiking trails.  Everything was suspiciously quiet.  Still, we sprayed ourselves down with bug spray (Ben's 30% deet, thank you very much) and headed off into the tundra.  You can see pictures of us all ready at the start of the trail in this blog.  Don't we look happy!  It was, however, not to last.  After about 45 minutes of hiking we realised why there was no-one else there.  That reason was the bugs.  I can honestly say that I have never seen or heard so many mosquitoes in all my life.  Although the bug spray was doing a good job of keeping them at bay, it seems that the effective distance of bug spray is a distance of about 6 inches from the body.  Both of us were enveloped in clouds of mozzies that made it seem like we were in a horror movie.  Sure, they were not biting, but it was really difficult to "Keep Calm and Carry On" as we Brits like to do.  So with much flailing of arms we had to cut the walk short and return to the car.  Mosquitoes and Deer Fly - 1, James and David - 0.  Bummer.

And so, with that, dear reader, we returned home, cooked our dinner and spent a quiet evening at the cabin.  Having stopped off at the liquor store for wine we sat inside scowling at the bugs that littered the outsides of the window.  I noticed that there was big spiders web, complete with large, unpleasant, hairy, hungry spider on the outside of the window next to my chair.  So I turned on the table lamp next to the window and watched a million mosquitoes fly straight into the spiders web and get caught.  I cackled out loud to myself, while remembering a line from Elvira, Mistress of the Dark;

"Revenge is better than Christmas",

And with that, dear reader, I bid you goodnight.

Big love,

D&J
 

The Eagles have landed.....

Greeting all!  Yes, we have arrived at Rolling Hills Resort!  We touched down on Saturday evening around 7pm on our nostalgia fest.  James drove us into the resort and although it was 41 years since he had been here he said that it felt that driving down the driveway into the resort itself was almost the same.  Now I feel I should clarify something here for my european readers.  Resort make it sound like we have gone to the sunny Costa Bomb or somewhere exotic.  In fact it is really a caravan site next to a very large lake on one side and a very large pond on the other.  Interspersed in between the caravans/mobile homes (more english/american translation) are six cabins.  We were destined for cabin #6.....we had originally booked cabin #1, the same one that James had stayed in as a nipper, but that had been reassigned as a whole season rental so we we got "upgraded".....to one that was larger and more modern (ahem....)

Once we had parked the car, we took a quick walk around the resort during wich James was rather quiet.  Then he spoke up.  "It's really different with all these caravans here" (see, now he speaks english....).  And then he went quiet again.  We had previously had a talk about what we were likely to encounter 41 years later...well, I had talked about celebrating the differences, not expecting it be the same, reflections of a childs life through an adult's eyes, etc etc and James had just sat their stony faced as he always does when he knows I am right, but I sensed that this was a lot different from that which he had been expecting.  Still, it was a first night and with my usual tact and subtlety I.....stayed quiet.

Returning to the door of the cabin, we entered.  In this instance not a lot had changed.  It was like stepping back into your grandma's kitchen and house.  Formica everywhere, nothing matching, two recliners, a suspect sofa (minus antimacassars) and a dubious looking carpet.  The bedrooms were dark panelled (read budget MDF) with a double bed in each.  In between the bedrooms was a makeshift shower with a large hot water tank in the middle of the floor.  A toilet filled with brown water loomed ignominously in the corner like an empty throne waiting for its next hapless regent.  Our journey, it seemed, was just beginning.

I could sense that James was a little crestfallen, so I cheerfully suggested that we drag our bags in from the car.  So in a matter of minutes were were firmly inside and ready to make the best of it.  It was clean, tidy, hideously unmatching, but fine.  We had not anticipated coming to a luxury pad with a maid and fluffy slippers but had come on a journey back in time.  I suspect that James had not thought that the journey back in time would extend all the way to the bed linen and the vinyl floors.  Still, there we were and that was that.

I could sense that both of us needed a drink.  You know, dear readers, that my mind is never far from the next meal, so I cheerfully (and perhaps a little too brightly) asked what he wanted to do for dinner.  The answer was quick.  " Blue Goose for dinner" said James.  I nodded, subserviently, havening never seen a goose that was blue, nor having had one for dinner either.  It quickly became apparent that this was the local bar/restaurant/diner in the town of Garrison just a short drive away.  So back into the car and off down the drive we went.  To the Blue Goose......

When we arrived we noticed that that Blue Goose had a liquor store next to it for off sales.  Great news in that we could pick up some wine for our new home! So we scurried off into the bar for dinner.  As soon as we entered I realised that this was not the place that I was going to be able to ask for a martini.  In a scene somewhat reminiscent of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, where they arrive and go for a stroll around Broken Hill and everyone stares (except we were wearing shorts, t-shirts, and sneakers, having wisely left our man-bags in the car) we entered the bar and looked around.  Lots of people looked back.  Then they carried on with their business and returned to chatting, about what I have no idea.  But I was glad that it wasn't about us.  James and I slid into a table in the corner and I wondered what my chances were of ordering a cosmopolitan (just kidding).  Shortly a bubbly young blonde waitress with a perky chest appeared at our table.  We were later to find out that her name was Sherry, due to overhearing a conversation in the parking lot where some men were talking admiringly about her chest as though it were the twin cams on a new truck ("wow they are big and powerful, certainly a handful")

Sherry dutifully dispensed menus to us and informed us that she would tell us what beers they had on tap if we asked.  Sensing that this was a leading question, I obligingly asked "what beers do you have on tap?"  To which she gleefully responded "Budweiser, Bud light, Miller light, Coors Light and Amber Bock".  Sucker punch.  Feeling the need to assert my individuality against the large perms and rippling plaid shirts that were all around me, I responded that I would have the Amber Bock.  She turned to James who said "Gin and tonic".  Traitor.  So who is the nellie one now, dear readers?

Once Sherry had taken herself and her chest back to whence it/she came from, James and I began to peruse the menu.  After deciding on Walleye sandwiches (check out the picture on James' Facebook Profile) we sat back to enjoy the surroundings.  James would occasionally come here in his youth with his mother and father for dinner.  He couldn't really remember much about the interior so I can't comment on whether or not it had changed much.  But we did spend a very nice evening there, enjoying our surroundings and the people around us.  Sherry was delightful, and her chest was really quite the star of the evening, even if wasted on us.  The men at the other tables though were certainly most appreciative.  The little 6 month old baby at the table next door certainly thought it was Christmas (and time for Christmas Dinner) everytime she came back to the table, judging by his smile, grabbing hands, and eyes like frisbees.

Having left the restaurant we descided that we wanted to pick up a bottle of wine from the liquor store.  Walking past a group of plaid shirt and wifer beater clad gentlemen, who were the ones discussing Sherry's appendages, we entered the Blue Goose Liquor Store.  Choice was fairly limited, but seeing something that we liked we paid the burly gentleman at the counter and headed on our way back to the cabin.  Will we return to the Blue Goose?  Perhaps for a drink later in the week methinks.  I feel a need to see if Sherry's boobs last the week, or whether she uses a handpump each day for top-ups.

Returning to the cabin we took another stroll around the resort.  James was still quiet about the whole experience but seemed content.  Places change and things come and go.  But as we walked around I asked if it was stirring any memories for him.  His answer, in his usual way, was succinct.  "This place holds many ghosts" he said.  And we will leave it at that.

And thus it was time for bed.  We turned out the lights, brushed our teeth, and hit the sack...well the double bed anyway.  We slept the sleep of the travel weary.  One of us because he had been sitting gazing out of the passenger window all day, and the other because of time travel, which brings the sleep of memories so vividly to life once more.

Big love to all!

D&J

Back to the future....nostalgia for Jimmy.

Greetings once more blogpickers! Yes, 'tis I BlogMeister David once more.  I am sitting here in the passenger seat of the car again writing to you. James is driving (as usual, though I was allowed to drive for about an hour today...huzzah!) so I thought I would end your suspense and tell you about the next part of our trip.

We just passed Minneapolis (hey Miss Janet!) and are now on our way to Garrison, centre of the universe. From there it will be a short trip to "The Cabin of Childhood Dreams and Escapades".  Well, the cabin of endless family holidays and fights with sisters might be a little more accurate.  So let me tell you more because I am convinced that you, dear reader, are beside yourself with anticipation as to why we, your intrepid friends, are heading here.

As you will recall James and I went back to the UK to get married last year (if you really haven't been paying attention then I suggest you check out the blog archives and catch yourself on). Well, to cut a long story short, it was all a bit expensive, what with a seven course dinner and a country house.  So this year we decided that we needed something a little less expensive.  One evening James came home from work and started talking about the cabin that he used to go to when he was a young boy...basically every year from the age of 0-16.  He mentioned that he might like to go back and visit, especially now that his parents are no longer alive and his dad can't terrorize him to go wrestling, or to participate in some other such manly activity which would be pure anathema to any soft and sensitive boy (though certainly less scary than kissing girls).  I sat there , listened and thought to myself...

"That was 41 years ago....ha. The place will now be either a supermarket, a bingo hall, or a microbiology centre dedicated to growing super strong plants that will save the world from certain destruction by aliens riding llamas". (Good idea for a movie, huh...Llamas vs Triffids...rocking!)

Well, dear reader.  As you have by now probably surmised, I was wrong.  Very wrong. In fact we are at this very moment on a freeway hurtling towards a date with destiny with nary a flux capacitor or a Delorean to hand.  I am about to be transported back in time to the VERY SAME CABIN BY THE LAKE FROM 41 YEARS AGO.  We are destined to spend 1 week here, and, providing that the bugs (which I am sure will be the size of planes) don't get me first, we will have a very informative, educational, and reflective visit. We are going to go fishing, hiking, biking, and possibly flower picking (if I can work that into the schedule to neutralize some of the testosterone that will be lacing the air).  It will, dear reader, be fun.

So there you have it.   You can be sure that I will be blogging regularly on how thing progress.  I am so gripped by the impending excitement that I will even be tweeting about it.  Those of you who are of the Twittering persuasion will be able to follow me on Twitter as dnmartin98 if you choose to do so.

After all, you wouldn't want to miss anything would you?

Watch this space.....

Big love,

D&J

Fondue, music, and a little bit of sausage dancing.

Greetings readers! It's a beautiful sunny day again here in Madison, WI. We have been here for three whole days now and are loving it. It has been a mixture of work and play for both of us; e-learning conference and Cisco interspersed with play time in the streets of Madison.

Wednesday was a beautiful day here in the land of cows and sunshine!  Having met up with Nancy and Ann, two other professors from the University of Cincinnati, we decided that a mini-road trip was in order. So we piled into the car and headed off to the Swiss style town of New Glarus.  Home to the oldest Swiss settlement in Wisconsin, and to our favourite brewery, it is somewhat of an annual pilgrimage. I had already done a 2 hour business development call with some people in Norway and California so was totally ready to get out of the hotel.  The open road beckoned so off we went.

Arriving at New Glarus we spent a very pleasant hour wandering the shops and generally having a lazy day.  We finally decided that it was time for lunch around 1pm  so headed to the local Swiss restaurant. There we indulged in Rueben sandwiches, Cheese fondue, and bratwursts.  There was mirth, merriment, and laughter all with a Swedish accent.  I should mention that there was no polka dancing or clogs in evidence despite rumours to the contrary.  The afternoon was spent at the New Glarus brewery home of our favourite beers before heading home for a much needed nap.  Oh afternoon naps I will miss you when this vacation is over!

Wednesday evening was an opportunity for more culture. Throughout the summer Madison has classical music concerts that take place on the green around the state capitol building. The music was obviously important, but the opportunity to sit on the grass with a bottle of wine and friends was perhaps more appealing.  So with plastic glasses in hand we settled in for an hour or two of Stravinsky, Tchaikovsky, Grieg, and Chardonnay, that well known oakey composer.  The music was good, the wine better, and as you can see from the picture above everybody had fun. The most fun though was had by a group of people sitting a short way away from us.  A squirrel ran down a tree and straight into the middle of a group of picnickers.  The squirrel proceeded to then run around, no doubt scared out of its fur, while all the picnickers screamed and ran around in circles.  After a while the squirrel ran back up the tree, it's job done, and all the people sat down sheepishly.

The whole evening then sped by with a visit to The Old Fashioned, a Madison institution and one of our favorite places to hang out (such a strange turn of phrase). Fueled by the cocktail of the same name, we indulged in walleye sandwiches, bratwursts in buns, and gourmet mac and cheese.  All six of us seemed very happy and James did declare later that he had felt a little silly at dinner, presumably code for being hammered. However everyone was well behaved, even though James did contemplate trotting out his Jimmy the Hula impression for the table. Alas, it was not to be, despite many requests.  Neither did he agree to perform "The Koschoreck", a special kind of polka danced while wearing lederhosen backwards and upside down and involving six pounds of bratwurst together with a large bag of cucumbers.  Ah the stuff of legend....

Thursday bought more work duties for us: James spent time in the conference discussing the finer points of e-learning retention while I chaired some meetings with people in the Cisco Hong Kong office.  Gripping stuff!  In the afternoon I headed out for a walk and a visit to the Madison Contemporary Art Museum, a terrific place that was showing an exhibition on technology and its impact through the ages. I spent a pleasant two hours there before returning to the hotel for a few more meetings and dinner in The Capitol Chophouse, a very splendid affair indeed. For those who like such details, dinner revolved around steak, scallops, crab cakes, and was accompanied by a Panther Creek pinot noir and a Frogs Leap Merlot.  All jolly nice indeed. It was good to spend time with a group of friends and marked a definite high point of the week so far!

Friday was a lazy day.  I had spent the morning recording some presentations for Cisco from our hotel room while James took to the floor in the conference to present his paper along with his colleague Jim.  I'd like to say that the afternoon was filled with our usual kind of craziness and mayhem, but it was actually spent wandering Madison, looking around the university, eating ice cream on the shores of the lake, and popping in and out of various shops.  It was all quite restful and very welcome.  Friday also ushered in my last day of working for Cisco as well. I have been very fortunate to be able to return to my old job, now as a contractor, in the summer and to work with my (mostly) fabulous colleagues there.  It went very well this year again, and I look forward to the possibility of doing it all again next year! Now it is time to try and return to being an artist once more.....

Friday brought a quieter evening at The Old Fashioned as two of our party had already departed. Still, we acquitted ourselves well and retired to the hotel room for a reasonably early night (11.30pm) as we all had early starts. Nancy and Ann were heading back to Cincinnati and James and I had a date with a car for the next part of the "Homos on the Road" extravaganza.

So there you have it, dear readers. I'll be posting tomorrow as we head onwards and upwards....literally.  We are heading to Minnesota!  Yes, I am wondering why as well.  But all will be revealed soon. Keep your eye on the blog!

Big love to all!

D&J

Hot Dogs, Curry, and the road to Madison

Hola blogpickers!

We are in the car and on the way north once more.  Having picked up the car in Naperville, we are now heading to Madison, Wisconsin.  We also just stopped off in Milwaukee to have coffee with Alina, one of my co-workers at Cisco. Not having seen her for over a year it was nice to have a face to face catchup that didn't involve a WebEx meeting!  We met at Alterra Coffee on the Lake where cakes, coffee, and caffeine ruled the moment!

But a few quick words about Monday. Monday saw us do a boat trip on Lake Michigan and around the Chicago waterways. It was a historical and architectural tour (more culture, Bones), followed by work. James had some university work to do, and I also had an hour or so of Cisco work to handle. So after our boat trip we retreated to the hotel room and typed, emailed, and organized.  Then it was time for lunch.  And what a lunch it was.

We went back to the Four Seasons for their Hot Dog special.  Yes, dear reader, you heard correctly.  But these are no ordinary hot dogs.  Hand chopped, smoked, and seasoned beef, handstuffed into Hot Dog casings, all served up on a steamed poppy seed bun, together with chilies, onion, tomatoes, and three hand made condiments. All washed down with a glass of local beer. You can see the picture in the mobile uploads section of my Facebook page. It was scrumplicious (or delumptious if you wish).

Next stop was the Art Institute of Chicago museum for some much needed art therapy.  I had never had the opportunity to visit before so was looking forward to the chance to see a museum that I had heard so much about. I was especially keen to see the Uta Barth exhibition of "blurry photos" on display.  As someone whose work I admire it was great to see the actual pieces  in the flesh. I still need to think more about the work but I found it invigorating to see.  There was also an exhibition by Meatyard, one of my professors favourite photographers. James and I spent a pleasant couple of hours wandering around the museum and viewing a remarkable collection of works.

Food is never far from our thoughts as you know, so we were shortly faced with the question of where to go to eat. A quick posting on Facebook revealed some awesome suggestions. We were particularly excited at the idea of Topolobambo or Frontier suggested by a number of you, but were dismayed to find that they were both closed on Mondays. The same also went for the suggestion of Girl and Goat.  Still after some cogitation and deliberation, James selected the Gaylord India restaurant for some curry.  So of we trotted and dined on Rogan Josh, Tandoori Chicken, and Chicken Tikka Masala.  Ah the smells and the tastes! It was very good and seemed an excellent end to our gastronomic odyssey in Chicago.  A big thank you to all who suggested locations to us.

And that brings us up to date. As mentioned, we are now in the car and on the way to Madison. We'll be attending a conference on e-learning for the next few days and I'll be putting my Cisco hat back on with a few meetings to hand over my projects to some folks in Hong Kong and Belgium.  Of course we will also be having fun as well!  We will be sharing the time with some other professors in the education field so I am sure there will be lots of stimulating conversation and wine.

So with that, dear reader, I will sign off once more.  Keep an eye on the blog as we will be back shortly! But in the mean while, keep your pecker up and big love to all!

D&J

Pizza, shopping, and vaginas.

Morning all!. Blogmeister David here again.  It is Tuesday morning and we are now safely on the train to Naperville to pick up our car and head onto the next portion of our trip.  We had a super 4 days in Chicago and as I am a little behind in the blogging I thought I would use the train ride to catch up.

After Saturdays gastronomic extravaganza, Sunday dawned to find a tired David and James peeking out from under the covers of the lovely bed in the Swissotel.  Coffee was definitely needed so after a shower we headed off to Buckies in search of breakfast and caffeine. Safely esconced in the corner of a Michigan Avenue Buckies armed with french press of Decaf Sumatra, bagels, and oatmeal, we plotted our assault on the world.  That assault involved shopping.  Are we not fearless and intrepid, dear readers? I'd like to say that we went shopping just for you so that we could blog about it, but I suspect that you wouldn't believe it. So I'll admit...it was all about us!  We spent a fabulous 2 hours wandering the shops, nipping in to Nordstrom, sidling into Saks, browsing in Brooks Brothers, and flitting in to the Four Seasons to buy baseball caps.  It was really tiring. In the words of Posh Spice...."Being this fabulous is really hard work"...thanks Victoria!  We think that relaxing with your hubby would be a work out too, but moving swiftly on....

It was, of course, getting close to lunch time.  We had reservations at the Walnut Room in the old Marshall Fields store on State Street.  James has always wanted to eat there and seeing that this vacation is all about James' nostalgia kick, we took the opportunity to do so.  The restaurant is very very lovely inside, in a kind of faded glamour Norma Desmond way (can you picture us there now?) The food was good, the view over the street lovely, the Sauvignon Blanc crisp and delightful, and the portrait light by the windows was perfect. I took some shots of James that I'll post later.  It was a lovely way to spend lunch and for James to remember all the times he went there in his youth.

While sitting there and looking out the window I noticed Nordstrom Rack across the street. Lunch came to a screeching halt and we gathered ourselves up and swept off to bargain hunt.  Nordstrom Rack is such a funny experience: high end clothes and bargain hunters. Still, all those years of shopping at El Cort Ingles in Spain paid off, so with elbows firmly pointed out we joined the throngs.  I secured a nice Burma Bibs blue check shirt (coz I need another blue check shirt to go with the other fourth three) and James found nothing.  Score for David!

By now it was about 4pm so a retreat to the hotel room for a nap was in order.  Dinner was not too far in the distance and we needed to make sure we had enough strength to make it though the evening after such an arduous day. 

And so the evening arrived.  This was to be a special evening, though one I was a little concerned about. Those of you who know James well will know that he is a creature of habit (as am I to an extent).  Nowhere does this manifest itself more than in eating pizza.  Being from Chicago James is convinced that they invented the stuff and will happily duke it out with anyone else on the planet over who has the best crust and sauce (yawn...).  Accordingly we have always only ever been allowed to eat Pizza at Giordano's on Rush Street when we go to Chicago, a place that meets His Lordship's strict criteria.  I, on the other hand, like the pizza at Giordano's but hate the place with a passion. I do, however, know how to put up and shut up (sometimes...) so have meekly acquiesced to eat there for the last ten years. Tonight, though, was to be different. James had decided (with no reason given) that he wanted to try a different pizza joint.  Fine by me!  So off we went to Lou Malnatis new pizza place on North State street.

To cut a pizza story short, we had a great time. They make great martinis and the pizza was fantastic. For those who wish to know James ordered the Lou Malnati's Chicago classic. He loved it and was so effusive about the experience to our waitress that she went and fetched the owner, Mark Malnati.  There then ensued a love fest between James and Mark over the pizza. When James explained that he would only ever eat pizza at Giordano's and I mentioned that I had been frog-marched there for 10 years, his response was "10 years? That's an awful lot of wasted time".  Classic.   I should also add that the venue is great too and they have much cuter staff.  These things are important.  Would you eat pizza that has been delivered by someone with face like a slapped ass?  No, dear reader, I agree. I know what my reasons for choosing a pizza are

After pizza it was definitely time for a glass of wine.  After prying James out of the pizza joint we headed to They Westin for a quick glass of wine.  It was on our way back, at 12.30am, that looking down I saw the object in the photograph.  I have no idea what it was all about.  But I thought that I would share it with you.  Thus ended a day of Pizza, Walnuts, Nordstroms, and vaginas.

"Homos on the road" is proving to be constantly amazing....and with regard to vaginas, educational too.

Big love to all,

D&J