Spinning, the other 1%'rs

     If you've been following me for any length of time, you will remember my "Hell on Wheels" blog on 9/22. The "day the stationary bike took a big hit". If you recall that you will love this.
     I took my first spinning class last night. Yeah, how hard is that? You say,"But I've been spinning ever since I was a little kid; sometimes clockwise, sometimes counterclockwise". "If I drink a whole bunch and lay down, I get the spins without even trying". Well, it ain't that kind of spinning. It's 2012! if you say you're "spinning" you are not falling in love, you are not missing out on being promoted, heck you ain't even stuck on the ice, you are riding a stationary bike. People actually pay money, buy cool, specialty clothing and brag about going to spinning class.
     I've been going to the gym for quite some time and I've been watching. The "bikers" as I like to call them, are kind of like a biker gang (or club if you actually happen to belong to a gang). They walk in together, probably subscribing to the whole "safety in numbers" thing. They dress very similar. (albeit spandex as opposed to leather) But most obvious, they are territorial. At the gym, there are usually a row of at least 12 bikes nestled close together in a staging area. If you have an inclination to risk an ass whippin' from a lanky, pale biker wearing spandex shorts, touch their bike. Which one is theirs? They all look identical. How would you know? Oh, they know. Right before class, they start ambling around. Just like in the parking lot of Big Al's Boozery. You just know some thing's getting ready to go down. They're eyeing the whole row, eyes squinting. You try and pass by one of them, on the left, to get to the changing room or water fountain and you start a series of events that just can not be recalled. Like hot iron being jerked from smooth leather, someone whips a towel from around their neck an overhands it onto the handlebars of "this" bike, Before you can even react, there she is behind you, pulling a water bottle from her bag, like some sparancha in Tia juana, drawing a stiletto and slamming it into the bottle holder on "that" bike. Your brain gets stymied. Fight of Flight? Quickly, you reach for the handlebars of the bike on the end, the bike with a broken foot pedal. Surely that one is safe, but before your had touches chrome, some 73 year old lady,with her sweat pants pulled up to her arm pits, is in your face asking you why your trying to take her bike. You recoil in disbelief as the mob begins to turn on you wanting to know, "why you are messing with Old Lady Harriet's bike!" You push you palms tightly against your temples. You want them to stop. "My God", you scream, and shout that you are a spinning rookie and you just want to take the class. The bucket list, of life long desires you wish to accomplish, that come before the one that says, Breech Spinning Class Protocol, is gigantic. Before you can cry out for Curtis Silwa http://www.ntsmediaonline.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/image001.jpg , things go BLACK.
     Slowly you wake from a groggy state of dreaminess. You realize there is a crowd of people looking down at you, and they are not angels. (Not Hell's Angels either). The waft of smelling salts held under your nose, jerks you back to the reality of it all. You cautiously look around the room, panning the crowd to see who exactly hit you in the back of the head with a black jack; But just like the parking lot at Big Al's, you can't identify anyone. The reason? Spinning class started 15 minutes ago, and they're all in the other room riding like they are trying to put 100 miles between them and your sorry backside.  If you ask any of them, they'll tell you, they can't help it, they were just born to ride.
     Lucky for me, I knew the secrete handshake, and that did not happen to me. I got my bike and I rode with that crew.I can't really talk about what we did, but I will say I burned over 2000 calories on that ride. I must have held my own, because the lead guy, Mike, invited me back next week. "Cool", I said, nothing more. I headed out to the parking lot, hopped into my truck, put on the Allman Brothers and drove home. COOL
 http://www.javelinexperiential.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/05/fonzie-on-bike.jpg

Expensive Habits

     On my recent flight down to Dallas,Texas, I sat behind four young ladies. Being rather cramped quarters, I couldn't help but overhear their constant chattering throughout the entire ride. In fact, one girl talked so incessantly that these three words continuously looped inside my brain; SHUTUP,SHUTUP,SHUTUP! All four girls were dresses well and each one was adorned with slightly excessive jewelry. It turned out they were staying at the same hotel as me and they were there for a jewelry convention. I joked with every new crew that hopped onto an elevator with me, always asking if they were there for the jewelry contest. They would all laugh as they clinked and clanked leaving the elevator sounding like one of them was always on the verge of loosing a hubcap. Tom cats in the alleys of New York get boiling water "chrown on 'em" for making a racket like that!
     The girls on the plane had three ring binders, with spread sheets and highlighted maps, showing every store they intended to hit, searching for jewelry like they were gonna quit making it the next day. I popped two more Alive cause my neck hurt from shaking so much. I haven't rolled my eyes that much since those humming birds got into my kitchen at the cottage. Heck, I might have given myself a detached rhetna. I have not heard a girl talk about, "ME ME ME ME ME" that much since Gina Underwood caught her hair on fire at the 4th of July picnic back in "81! All I could think about was, "will that be cash or charge"? Somewhere I imagine Zha Zha Gabore, hovering 2 feet off the ground, following the girls on their frantic jewelry escapade, giving the Arsenio Hall,fist pump, yelling, "You go girls".
     On my flight home I experienced the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Two U.S. Marshals were transporting a prisoner. He was wearing a chunk of jewelry, he couldn't shake. In fact, he wasn't flaunting it, he dug his hands under the bottom,front of his jacket.Unlike the ladies, he got his bracelets first, he hasn't paid for them yet. I shook my head, but much slower. I don't know who's jewelry cost more, either way, I hope I never do.

    

WTF Bigfoot sighting in Dallas?

Was   That   Footprint   Bigfoot's?



Not the grassy knoll



If you look real close, you can kind of see him; he's looking right at the camera.

El Chupacabra ?

A Wild Time At The Dallas World Aquarium



I have been known on occasion to sleep, partly submerged in water. Yes, on purpose.

 

I don't know why, but I had a strong desire to say Betelgeuse 3 times.

The Manatee was so incredible to watch. Pictures can not do it justice, you will have to click on the underwater cam to see it for yourself.     

http://www.dwazoo.com/animal-cams/            When you watch them swim, it's almost like slow motion. They are definitely stars at the aquarium.



This one is for my pal Bob. He LUUUUUUUVS Snakes

One of the first characters I ran into was this cool, 3 toed sloth. He seemed to be munching on lemon grass dipped in chunky peanut butter. After scouring the place for the 2 toed sloth, I was just about to concede and convince myself it was better to see the 3toe than the 2toe, but as luck would have it, alas I found him sleeping in his small cave with nothing sticking out except his 2 enormous claws. Thanks for helping me sleep well that night.




One of the more colorful spectacles was the flock of flamingos. They acted more like a school yard full of bullies than majestic birds. At this time, I would like to go on public record as saying, "Not even once, did I observe any of the flamingos stand on one leg." I'm going to chalk that one up to the other shenanigans my folks pulled on me, like Santa Clause, the Easter Bunnie and Nipsey Russel.
I fear the one legged, plastic flamingos I have seen listing in front of all those trailer parks, were nothing more than casualties of misplaced house keys and a testament to the high cost of replacement car antennas in the J.C.Whitney catalog.   Good day sir!

I tried out the x-ray app on my smart phone and was able to catch a quickie of these vampire bats.

The highlight of my day was the rapid pace at which I learned the proper procedure for how exactly how to handle it when a poison dart frog leaps onto the lens of your camera.

It's not like I'm the only one that did something stupid that day at the aquarium. (not really, but it does look strange at first)

The sea horses look like all that crap I pick out of the outboard prop when I'm water skiing. I'm gonna have to look closer next time.

If you look real close, that's me in the shark tank looking at you.


And don't think I wasn't thinking of y'all when I was there. I stopped by the gift shop and picked up a little something for you.  I hope you enjoy it.











Pants Off, Hijabs On.

     Charles Dickens may have written, Tale of Two Cities, but this is a Tale of Two Marches. Both in the same town, Dallas, but both at opposite ends of the spectrum for sure. As always, please remain seated until the ride comes to a complete stop, keep your hand inside the car until the ride is over and please, if your reading this out loud to a young child and we lose air pressure, put your mask on first and THEN help the poor child with their mask. OK?
     Being determined to log over 25 miles on my hiking boots while I spend 1 day in Dallas was a rock solid way to insure I'd see some cool stuff. One of the many highlights of my day was stumbling upon a small crowd gathered at the fountain at Ferris Plaza. ( upon completion of this story you will know the fountain was named after the patron saint of silly fun, Ferris Buhler). The crowd of young people looked an awful lot like the crowd of people you usually see at one of my son's "punk" gigs. Curiosity got the better of me and I had to find out what they were up to.

As it turned out, they weren't there to put on a show, they were there to
Take Off Their Pants! Yep, they were getting ready to kick off the first ever Pants off Subway ride. ( I didn't have the heart to tell 'em, "it ain't a subway unless it goes under ground") But i just didn't want to spoil the mood. When asked why they were doing it, one of them said, "why not" and another said, "just because". How's that for investigative journalism? It wasn't long before they got instructions from their leader, and just like their pants, they were off.

Needless to say I covered the breaking story in true Dash Fashion. I figured I needed to blend in with the cause in order to get the inside scoop. As you can see by the reaction of my comrades, they welcomed me with open arms. Thinking of that cool day on the subway in Dallas, I can't help but to get a small chill. I so want to quote Neil Armstrong right now, I just shudder at using the word small so many times in one paragraph. I'll just take him out of context and say, "it was one giant leap for mankind". When it was all said and done, it was basically for no good reason.

     As I gathered my wits about me and headed onward, I began to hear what sounded like music or singing off in the distance; so I marched on. Allow me the opportunity to stop and focus on what I am currently wearing. It will be relevant to my next destination. I've got on my hiking boots, cause I'm logging miles. I now also am wearing a slightly wrinkled pair of jeans and most importantly, (this may come off somewhat narcissistic) I'm sporting a vintage Captain America t-shirt; big letters, big figure (Complete with shield)    BIG HERO!

I must have walked 10 city blocks, always trying to tune in to the music. It sounded oddly familiar. As the distance began to close, I began to notice things. Parked at each corner seemed to be S.U.V's, each one occupied by at least two police officers. Each time I passed one, I seemed to get a look from both occupants, peering over the top of their glasses and an ever so slight jaw drop, complete with gaping mouth. I've been on the receiving end before. As I processed the look I also processed the music I was hearing. When I approached the top of the slight incline, it all hit me at once. The music was the same stuff I had heard being blasted from the Muslim Mosques when I lived very close to Dearborn,Michigan. Before I knew it, I was smack dab in the middle of a Pakistani, Shiite parade.

There were hundreds of Shiites filling the streets. They waved giant flags, chanted in unison, pounded their chests and marched. The entire procession was as long as two and a half city blocks. They were carrying a coffin and lots of signs I couldn't read. The whole march was to bring awareness to injustice towards their people. It wasn't long before three young Pakistani girls, in full dress came over to me. They were quite nice and just wanted to know what I was thinking. Not the kind of, "what were you thinking" when I got caught dirty dancing on my teachers desk, in 7th grade, by Principal Moser. They genuinely wanted to know what they could help he understand. We talked a small bit about faith and that seemed to buy enough time for the whole parade to pass and me to use the opportunity for a quick escape.

I just enjoyed the irony of it all. Two marches going on at the same time, in the same town and each representing totally different ends of the spectrum.

God Bless America!

Currently trecking across the entire city of Dallas. Lots of great stories to come. Stay tuned, got to Dash!

Dallas Art Walk Has Happy Ending

Moving throughout the the city, I can't help but to notice the architecture. Every time I look at something, I find myself saying, WOW. Like the picture above. It's actually the glass ceiling of the Dallas Trade center. The buildings became art, all by themselves. They changed from morning to night and though I never got a picture,in focus, there was a red Pegasus that seemed to follow me around like the bowl of Cream of Wheat on the t.v. commercial.

I thought the large glass encased stairwell was so cool at the Perot Museum of Natural History. That place will be spectacular when it's finished. I hear they're going to have an entire floor devoted to Sea Monkeys.


I love the reflection of the building on left on the building on the right. Intentional?

The tile floor screamed of art deco.

There was one park that must have had over 100 identical fountains in it. It was a bit chilly when I was there but I imagine it is the place to be when the temperature gets in the triple digits!

I decided to get a little artsy fartsy. Bordering on plagiarism, I decided to use someone else's art in order to make my own art. Hey, if it was good enough for Andy Warhol and all rappers, it's good enough for me.

COOL HUGH?
I made it a point to stop by the Dallas Museum of Art as they had two paintings I wished ti see. The first painting was Frederic Edwin Church's 1861 painting entitled, "Icebergs". At one time, it was considered to be the greatest painting ever. At the completion of the painting, there was absolutely no interest in the painting and it simply disappeared for 166 years. In 1970 the painting emerged and sold at auction for a record 2.5 million dollars.

The second painting was Van Gogh's, "Sheaves of Wheat". Needless to say, they would not allow any photographs. I did however try to strike up some conversation with the museum staff. I simply asked what their favorite painting was at the museum. It seemed that everyone gave me the same preprogrammed answer. They were instructed to give NO opinion. I was instructed that art was subjective and "one" should not interfere with "another" thoughts or emotional connection when "one " was viewing art. A simple no comment would do. I did however to contemplate that thought as I moved about the city, and I thought I would give it a try. I will leave you with this final photograph I took outside the Omni Hotel. Evidently the really get excited about Christmas down there in Dallas. For your enjoyment.............................................

Best Pizza in Dallas

One mission I was definitely on my entire trip to Dallas,Texas, was to find great food. I always say that life is too long to spend with crappy people or to eat bad food. It seemed that every time I asked where I could find great food, someone tried to point me to some 5 star restaurant. After some relentless pursuit, I finally found a slice of heaven. Seeing the city from the electric trolley that runs until 10:00p.m., I was staking out every potential eatery that might be holding some culinary gem. Alas, I spied the sign above the door,"Pizza baked in a coal fired oven". Now, growing up in Philly, I've had LOTS of great pizza! I've eaten pizza at the Jersey Shore (still the best Sicilian pizza) and I've eaten pizza all around New York. I have never had pizza from a coal stoked, brick oven. I walked into Grimaldi's and was greeted by the handsome pot bellied chef you see above. With Leon as my waiter, I decided to start off with some antipasto.


The Sweet Roasted Red Peppers are, "To Die For"!

What else could you drink while waiting for your pizza that had deep seeded roots in Brooklyn, than a cold Brooklyn Lager.

The manager that night was Jose. He could have not been more friendly and proud of his restaurant. He proudly gave me the complete rundown as well as a tour of the oven.

The brick lined oven gets stoked with coal; the coal isn't under the oven, that's it off to the side. Let me tell you, it gives the pizza a unique subtle flavor and perfectly crisp crust. I will measure all thin crust pizza, from now on, to Grimaldi's!

The one thing I can't do is to show you a picture of the pizza. When it showed up at the table, I was so impressed with the presentation, a picture would not do it justice.
http://www.grimaldispizzeria.com/new-york-new-jersey

You can click on the website to sneak a peek for yourself, but more importantly, look for a location for your next destination.
If the moon ever hit the sky like a Grimaldi's pizza pie, ah, now "That's Amori"



Where to Play when you're in Dallas

Sunday finds me in Dallas. I'm multitasking which means I'm working off of multiple itinerary's. (Trust me, it ain't for everyone) I have tons to do and a short window to make it all happen; I'm off!

I may come from the part of the country where the deer and the antelope play, but we got cowboys and rangers up here to. I felt compelled to see exactly where they play. Here is a little known fact about,"The Dash".  As a minor, I rode a bus and spent a brief stint sitting on a bench with these guys.What? Of course it's a riddle to which you will never get a straight answer. Oh, not a cowboy, but I'm currently aspiring to be one.

With my poker face on, I decide, in order to accomplish the Dallas sports grand slam, I gotta see where to Mavericks and the Stars play as well. That was easy, heck I killed two birds with one stone. On the way my pal and I gt hungry and decide to stop at a place I have not been to in over 15 years, Trail Dust. It's a cowboy'd up steak joint. It's family style seating which is great if you happen to walk in with about 20 guys and all want to sit together. For entertainment, they have a big dance floor and usually a band that's covering some classic Highway Men tune. If that ain't exciting enough for you, you can work on your slide. Nope, not your electric slide, ut uh, not your slide into second. After dinner, as long as the bands on brake, you can kick off your boots and mosey up the stairs and pretty as you please, slide downstairs from upstairs!

I've see 80 year old ranchers take the plunge I've see old ladies in hoop skirts slide for all it was worth. It has just become the social acceptable thing to do. Now, what's NOT acceptable to do is to walk in the front door and yell, Why in Sam Hill does Tom Landry always wear that stupid hat?" and the second would be to walk in wearing a tie. For the first offense the may tell you to shut up and cut it out, but for the second offense, there gonna "cut it off". (the tie that is) Yep, you'll lose it. I don't care if it is the tie gram pa Charlie got when he caught Douglas MacArthur's pipe before it fell into the ocean, it may have been a whole tie when you walked in, but you'll walk out with half! One consolation though, they will staple the "purdy end" up on the wall. Heck, they'll even let you autograph a fancy note card with your signature and the date, so they can fix it to the wall along side your old tie. That way, when your friends stop by for a bite, they can browse around and sort of reminisce about the time, "they got ol' Charlie". So beware and dress with care. If you don't like it, they'll show you the door but if you have to go, they'll show you the floor. Just follow the tracks to the wash room and back.

As for the Stars and the Mavs, I took these two pictures, one right after the other. There has been no photo shop. You be the judge.......................................................

  Insert your own funny caption here (                                                                                             )

JFK, Fashion Faux Pas?

If you could reconvene the original members of the Warren Commission, and visit the precise spot of the Kennedy assonation, I wonder what their reaction would be? They'd probably vomit. I've ridden past the location of that tragic day in Dallas, many times, but never stopped. Earlier, this afternoon, I was  in the neighborhood for some good southern barbecue and decided to walk off my full stomach. What I observed almost made me vomit.

There is nothing somber or reverent about the area  A giant black and yellow, plastic banner clearly identifies the "grassy knoll". I guess if you wanted to class the joint up a bit you could have spent the money on some grass seed. Upstaging the tacky knoll sign were two white X's in the middle of the entrance ramp to Interstate 30 and 35E. You guessed it, the first x marks the location of the first shot and the second x, well..........  It seem to be the tradition to dodge any oncoming traffic, run out into the street and have your picture taken, standing on the x. Your choice was, however, to face the photographer, thus trusting he or any assistant accompanying him, would surely notify you of any automobile traveling at a high rate of speed in your lane, or. you could face the top floor of the book depository and hold your own fate in your hands.

The real entertainment factor here is watching all the local rif raf, trying hard to profit off of an event that happened 48 years ago. You can't walk anywhere around the place without someone walking up to you trying to sell you a paper covering the whole event or asking if you want to hear their version of what really happened. I bet half the people can't even spell Kennedy. Like all good con men, they're just testing the waters. If you engage in conversation with them, they will eventually become your best friend and their final word before departing as either BFF's or disgusted, hard working informational exchange couriers now thinking they just waisted 4 minutes of their lives being intellectually sucked dry by an infidel such as you, hinges on the fact that you either did or did not give them a buck.

Those folks would be entry level shysters.

This guy here, (see above) is living the life. He doesn't have to work in a cubicle or cramped office. He can certainly dress like he is working from home. He owns all of his own equipment, including the cinder block holding down the easel. What I failed to capture with my camera were his helpers. Let me explain this seemingly unforgivable oversight. I actually started out the morning buying breakfast bars at Walmart. The people I saw there, scrubbed off all my reactions remotely associated with shock. It was this recent Walmart trip accompanied with the outfit of this fellows helper that may have helped me find, what the Warren Commission may very well describe as the missing piece to the puzzle. If I had to take a shot at it, I might venture a guess that on the day Kennedy was shot, he may have left the house wearing sweat pants. Now, hear me out. After spending a morning in a Dallas Walmart, unless you're jogging or headed to and or from the gym, nothing screamers, "I've given up, put me out of my misery" more than wearing sweat pants in public. I'm not alone here folks! It seems that the local authorities have had enough too.

In the middle of the parking lot, the local law enforcement people have strategically placed a raised sniper platform to take out these people, and if you look closely, they are able to cover the entrance to the Majestic Liquor Store as well. If you choose to try your luck when in Dallas by shucking your pants and dawning sweats, you too could suffer the wrath of the U.S.Army rangers, "Death from above".

Auld Lang Syne

     The English translation for the popular Scottish phrase, auld lang syne, is, "for old time sake". So how fitting it was to spend New Years Eve at my favorite restaurant, on their last night, before relocating and starting anew. How special it was to celebrate the New Year with my friend who is responsible for bringing me out to the beautiful Treasure State.



       If you've been out to visit, we have more than likely been to dinner at Paradise Valley Grill,  http://www.paradisevalleygrill.com/pvg/about     
    hands down the best food around;  you would be hard pressed to find a more beautiful view, unless my beautiful bride was in the room. The restaurant portion of the lodge is moving from the valley into town. They will be in the historic Livingston Bar and Grill building.
      I resisted temptation to take pictures of the five courses as it would have detracted from the ambiance of the evening. Most of the time I say it's not about the food, it's about the moment. Occasionally, however, there is a struggle with perspective. Besides, taking pictures of every dish set in front of you, every time you go out to eat is so boushwah, not much imagination!

     The first course was called, Trio of Seafood. It had a fresh oyster with pickled ginger mignonette, fennel dusted Ahi tuna with beet puree and cilantro vinaigrette and a hoisin glazed scallop with sesame cucumber noodles. The Ahi seemed to melt in your mouth, the scallop was perfect and the oyster took me back to my days at Martha's Vineyard.
     Next, was a wild mushroom soup accompanied by a goat cheese wanton and truffle oil. I actually wanted seconds! The creamy goat cheese complimented the creamy soup perfectly.
     Third, came a pear stuffed with Gorgonzola in a puffed pastry, port gastrique and baby arugula. What can I say, more cheese? A dish as much fun to look at as it was to eat.
     Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, the elk chop arrived. It was a cumin and coriander crusted elk chop with red wine braised cabbage, parsnip puree, asparagus and black berry reduction. The elk was so tender and the sauce so delicious, I wanted to submerse the entire chop into a bowl of the black berry reduction! The wine, paired with this dish, was a 2005 Twenty Bench Cabernet Sauvignon. WOW! So tasteful, we decided to enjoy a second glass before moving on to dessert.
     If you're not a big chocolate fan, you wont like this, but if you are, hold on to your seat. Our dessert was  a dark chocolate Pot au Creme with Chantilly cream candied orange and a tuile spoon! 
     The wine choices were spot on, the food second to none, the service was perfect and added to the ambiance and the friendship and conversations were priceless.

Happy New Year!


A rare snap shot of "the Dash with Teri, Vic and A.F.