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Happy Friday!
Illustration by Lindsey Frances
Things that happened recently:
The new Gerber "spokesbaby" is literally the cutest baby I've every seen in my entire life and I tear up every time I see a photo of his smiling face (oh, and he also has Down Syndrome).
The new TWA Hotel at JFK won't open until 2019 but I'm already excited to grab a drink in their lobby. I will also be forever grateful that Jim and I made it to the TWA Flight Center for Open House New York weekend before renovations began.
The daily stories coming out of the current garbage administration are hard to keep up with and maddening to say the least, but this Op-Ed from the wife of former White House Staff Secretary, Rob Porter, is a must-read.
Things to do in New York this week:
Today is the Firecracker Ceremony and Cultural Festival in Chinatown to celebrate the beginning of the Chinese Lunar New Year. There will be lion dances, giveaways and 600,000 firecrackers to ward off evil spirits and welcome the Year of the Dog. I went to the Firecracker Festival in 2013 (yes, it was loud), but I'm most looking forward to the parade this year.
Jihan Zencirli of Geronimo has made this amazing balloon installation as part of the New York City Ballet Art Series. If ballet isn't your thing, there will be free public viewing hours of the installation February 17 through February 25, Mon-Fri 10 AM – 6 PM and Sat-Sun 10 AM – 12 PM.
On Monday, my mom, Francesca, David and I are taking this NY Adventure Club tour of Eclectic Props, "New York City’s largest collections of antiques, furniture, and accessories for rent on the East Coast." I'm excited for the tour, located in a 95,000 sq ft former Pepsi factory, but I'm also looking forward to getting breakfast at this diner beforehand.
Things I've discovered lately:
My mom and I went to the Oddities Market in Jersey City last weekend and she bought me a glass eye from Oddball Oddity. Amanda chatted with us for a while, and not only is she incredibly nice and knowledgeable, but she has the best collection of glass eyes I've ever seen (and they're very reasonably priced).
Speaking of eyeballs, I recently discovered Emilio Villalba's incredible eye paintings and I can't wait to go see his upcoming exhibition at Booth Gallery starting March 31st.
This guy spent a year building a sphere from 42,000 green-tipped matches and then, of course, he lit it on fire. I generally hate watching Internet videos but I was mesmerized by the sphere catching fire (and that smoke at the end!).
I hope you all had a lovely Valentine's Day (David made us the most delicious steak) 💖 I think I'm going to try to check out the New York City Ballet balloon installation on Saturday and I'm excited to not stray too far from my neighborhood, for once. On Sunday David and I have our eye on some abandoned buildings to explore upstate, and Monday we'll be taking the tour of Eclectic Props. I think we may be done getting snow this winter (sad!) but sometimes March surprises us with a bonus snowstorm (fingers crossed). I hope you enjoy your weekend, and your extra day off on Monday, if you have one!
Randy's Donuts
When I went to California in December, I had an afternoon flight back to New York. I'm not one to waste time (on trips, at least) so with the help of my friend Tag, I was able to squeeze in a few more delights before I headed home. After diner breakfast, we headed toward the airport and luckily for me Randy's Donuts was on our way.
Built in 1953, Randy's Donuts is probably one of the most photographed and recognizable donut shops in the country. This iconic shop isn't shaped like a donut (like the Donut Hole) but is an otherwise unremarkable, small drive-through building with a walk-up window, topped with a huge donut. There are several other similar donut shops located all over LA, but Randy's has appeared in numerous movies, TV shows and music videos.
Randy's was built as part of the Big Donut Drive-in chain, the second of ten original locations. In 1976 it was purchased and renamed "Randy's Donuts and Sandwiches" after the new owner's son. The huge donut is constructed of rolled steel bars covered with grunite, a sprayed concrete used in swimming pools.
We were still full from breakfast so we didn't get a donut from Randy's, but I've been told that they're unremarkable. I have no doubt that Randy's is so famous because of its location—visible from the 405 and about three miles from LAX—but I'm always happy to see businesses like this thrive. Five of the original Big Donuts have been demolished, and one has been creatively turned into a bagel, but hopefully Randy's will keep providing donuts to tourists and locals alike—from inside of one of the best surviving examples of programmatic architecture—for many more years to come.
Randy's Donuts
805 W Manchester Blvd
Inglewood, CA 90301
Westminster Dog Show 2018
Growing up, Best in Show was one of the movies I watched most with my parents. As a result, I've always wanted to see a dog show in person, and this year my mom and I finally made it to the Westminster Dog Show at Madison Square Garden. The dog show spans two nights, and we got tickets to the first night which included judging of the Hound, Toy, Non-Sporting and Herding groups. The second night is where they crown Best-in-Show, after judging the Sporting, Working and Terrier groups.
Tickets were easier to come by for the first night, but it also included all of our favorite breeds so we weren't too bummed about missing Best-in-Show. We both have low-maintenance cats, but dream of the day when we can own dachshunds (although my mom will probably get there before me). Luckily for us, up first was the hound group, my favorites of which included: the shimmery Afghan hound, the flappy Basset Hound, Bluetick Coonhound (my dad has one!), Dachshunds (of course), Greyhound, the Ancient Egyptian Pharaoh Hound, and Whippet.
In conjunction with the Westminster Kennel Club, the First Annual New York Bench Show of Dogs was staged in 1877 at Gilmore’s Garden (a forerunner of Madison Square Garden), with 1,201 dogs. The show—2018 was the 142nd one—is one of only four events to be held in all four iterations of Madison Square Garden through the years. J.P. Morgan showed his collies, Nellie Bly entered a Maltese, The Queen of England and a Czar of Russia bred show dogs and of course, Martha Stewart has entered several Chow Chows in the show and in 2012 Ghenghis Khan won Best of Breed.
The second group was Toy, which includes a lot of my tiny favorites such as Pug, Chihuahuas, Chinese Crested, a shaky Italian Greyhound, the impossibly small Toy Poodle and Fox Terrier. The third group was Non-Sporting, which included Bulldog, Boston Terrier, French Bulldog, Chow Chow, Shar-pei (brought back from the brink of extinction in the 1960s), Dalmatian and all-black Miniature and Standard Poodles.
Our seats were better than I anticipated—19 rows behind the judges on an aisle—but I knew we wouldn't be super close (and dogs are tiny!) so I rented this huge zoom lens for the day just for fun. My photos aren't the best and we did find ourselves watching the Jumbotron frequently for close-ups, but I'm really glad we finally saw a dog show in person.
It was super exciting for the first two groups, less so by the third and we ended up leaving halfway through the judging of the Herding group because we were tired and only recognized about half of the breeds. But we did stick around just long enough to see the Puli and the Bergamasco Sheepdog, dogs so strange-looking that they need to be seen in person just to be believed.
BEST OF BREED 🏅
Hound: Borzoi
Toy: Pug
Non-Sporting: Bichon Frise
Herding: Border Collie
Sporting: Sussex Spaniel
Working: Giant Schnauzer
Terrier: Norfolk Terrier
BEST IN SHOW 🏆
Bichon Frise
Noah Purifoy's Outdoor Desert Art Museum
Right before I left to visit my friend Jim in California in December, I decided that I wanted to add one extra day to the road trip we had planned. I was getting nervous that we wouldn't have time to see everything on my list (the eternal concern) and I knew that I wouldn't have a problem finding things to fill the extra day. One of the extra stops i was most excited about adding was Noah Purifoy's Outdoor Desert Art museum in Joshua Tree.
I first became aware of Purifoy's art when I saw Kaylah's post, and it was one of the first things that popped into my head when I realized we'd be close to Joshua Tree. Noah Purifoy lived for most of his life in Los Angeles and Joshua Tree, and died in 2004. One of his first sculptures was made from charred debris from the notorious 1965 Watts riots, and he was a founding director of the Watts Towers Art Center.
He lived the last 15 years of his life in Joshua Tree, where he created ten acres of large-scale sculptures outside in the desert. The sculptures are made from salvaged materials, and vary widely in size, scale, style and type of material used. The "museum" is run by a private, non-profit foundation and it's open every day of the year, from sunset to sundown. There were only a few people roaming around the entire time we were there, and there is no admission price, but donations are appreciated.
To get to Purifoy's art, we followed Google's directions which took us down some rickety, unpaved roads. On the way out, we took a more direct path but just be aware that it's not the easiest place in the world to access. But it's so, so worth all of the work because seeing Purifoy's art in person was nothing short of a transformative experience.
Just the day before, we visited Salvation Mountain and although the two sites are very different in style and message, they are both physical manifestations of the vision of a single man. The desert is the perfect backdrop for these types of installations, and looking back over my photos had me missing that gorgeous desert light. We spent hours roaming the property—which is much bigger than I initially thought—and photos really can't do it justice.
I love the ingenuity and vision that Purifoy had—making beautiful, thought-provoking pieces from discarded tires, old clothes, toilets, bowling balls, rusty paint cans, wood scraps, instruments, machine parts, metal shavings, mannequin pieces, lunch trays and pretty much anything else he could find. I'm so glad that Purifoy's art has outlived him, and hopefully it continues to wow those who are brave enough to travel the dusty back roads in search of something more than just a Salvation Mountain selfie.
Happy Friday!
Illustration by Lindsey Frances | Prints available here
Things that happened recently:
A woman tried to bring her "emotional support peacock" on a plane and—shocker—she wasn't allowed. This article makes some good points about how the emotional support animal culture has gotten out of control, and also every time I see a peacock now I think of this scene.
Does anyone else watch—and cry throughout every episode of—This is Us? There were two extra-emotional episodes this week and I thought that Jack's death reveal was handled expertly (and was, not surprisingly, exquisitely sad).
I'm sure you've heard about PepsiCo's maddeningly dumb idea to make quiet chips for women, but if you happen to be a woman who loves loud, crunchy, cheesy chips (like me) you should hunt down a bag of these, my new favorite chips (or at the very least they're tied for first with these).
Things to do in New York this week:
Today in Greenpoint, Acme Smoked Fish will be attempting to make the World's Largest Bagel and Lox sandwich. The free event begins at noon, and participants are invited to help eat the sandwich after it's completed and measured for the Guinness Book of World Records.
Tonight is this Mind Reading and Mysticism event at one of my favorite (definitely haunted) NYC historic houses, the Merchant's House Museum. There are a few VIP tickets left, but just reading the description makes me want to start this book about the Fox sisters that's been sitting on my shelf for years.
The Westminster Dog Show is at Madison Square Garden on Monday and Tuesday. My mom and I got tickets for Monday night (including toy, hound and non-sporting categories) and I'll be re-watching this in preparation.
Things I discovered recently:
Have you seen the trailer for the upcoming movie about Sarah Winchester starring Helen Mirren? I'm obsessed with the Winchester Mystery House, and I can't wait until I finally get to tour it in real life (now that my friend Jim lives in CA we should get serious about planning this). They just recently opened parts of the house that weren't previously available to tour, and I've put this book on my wish list to read before I go.
I recently discovered this great shop filled with all sorts of creepy curiosities (and reasonably priced!) and couldn't resist buying this funeral sign.
Lindsey is my skincare guru and she recommended this magical green cream—it's a moisturizer, SPF and color-corrector all in one. I am hopelessly clueless about makeup/skincare but I'm trying to learn more and get a routine that works for me, so I'm excited to try this. I'm also accepting any and all recommendations for products that help oily/yet dry/acne prone skin because I'm so over having breakouts as an adult.
As of now the weather forecast for this weekend looks pretty grim—warmer, but with rain likely on both days. Finding rain shoes that I don't hate has been a total life-changer for me, but luckily I have a few indoor activities planned. On Saturday morning, my mom and I will probably hop over to New Jersey to check out the oddities market and grab pancakes at the Brownstone Diner and Pancake Factory. On Saturday night, my friend Sabrina and I are going to see David Cross at Union Hall in Brooklyn and we have plans to grab burgers here before the show.
No plans for Sunday yet, but if it's still raining maybe David and I will see The Phantom Thread. I've been told by multiple people that it's "bizarre" but that I'd like it (I'll take that as a compliment). We saw The Shape of Water last week and it was so, so good—it's my personal pick for Best Picture this year, but we'll see if that holds after seeing some of the others. I hope you have a great weekend, and stay dry if you're in the New York area!
Aspin Hill Memorial Park
On the first day of the road trip I took with my mom back in October, our last stop for the day was in Silver Spring, Maryland (after visiting Divine and the Enchanted Forest). I knew there was a pet cemetery there, but I didn't know much about it, so my expectations weren't very high. What we found was much larger and more elaborate than I had anticipated, and if it weren't for the swarms of bugs (mosquitoes? fleas?) preying on every inch of our exposed flesh, we could've explored for hours.
Established in 1921, Aspin Hill Memorial Park is thought to be the country's second-oldest pet cemetery, after the one in Hartsdale, New York. Two local dog breeders purchased the land to build a kennel and, inspired by a trip to Hartsdale, they added a cemetery a year later. It was originally used only to bury their own dogs, but they soon began offering plots for sale, advertising it as "one of the most attractive cemeteries in the country," and claiming that it was “destined to become one of the most noted canine cemeteries in the world.”
I think their marketing materials were a little ambitious—and Aspin Hill is no Hartsdale—but it was a popular place. More than 50,000 pets are buried here and more than two dozen humans are buried near their beloved pets (!!). Notable residents include seven of J. Edgar Hoover's dogs and World War I veteran Rags. Lyndon Johnson had his beagles cremated here (they were interred at his ranch in Texas) and it's rumored to be the final resting place of Jiggs, one of the Petey's from Our Gang. Perhaps not as famous, but still worthy mentioning: Andy the well-dressed monkey, Poor Alphie, Napoleon Pierre, Mustard, Flippy, Nabby, Pooky, Bingo, Bunny, Little Boy Baby Thing and Napoleon the Weather Prophet of Baltimore, MD.
The cemetery is now owned by the Montgomery County Humane Society and it's still technically an active cemetery, although they are not currently selling plots. They rely on donations to fund property maintenance, and although it's obviously not abandoned it is not as well-maintained as Hartsdale. In addition to the hordes of biting bugs (seriously these things were such a menace my mom was back in the car in minutes), there are fallen trees, broken stones, crumbling statues and other signs of neglect.
This was my fourth pet cemetery (I visited my fifth near Palm Springs in December) and my mom's second (her first was Clara Glen). I think two pet cemeteries in two years officially counts as a mother-daughter tradition, one that I definitely don't mind trying to maintain.
I don't think I'll ever feel as removed from the deceased in pet cemeteries like I do in human cemeteries. Epitaphs to beloved animals such as "I will always love you," and "Faithful to the end" will always make me tear up. And then, because pet cemeteries are such strange places, the next minute I'll be laughing at a ceramic portrait of Frosty the cat (a pal) in a dress.
Aspin Hill Memorial Park
13630 Georgia Avenue
Silver Spring, MD 20906
Spring Hill Dinosaurs
If you know anything about me, it shouldn't come as a surprise if we're ever driving somewhere and I gently suggest that I'd like to make a few quick stops along the way. While out for the day with David's parents on our recent trip to Florida, I told them that there were two dinosaurs on our route—actually directly on the way, which is sometimes a distinction I make rather loosely—and luckily they were more than happy to indulge my love of roadside novelties (thank you again, Jo Ann and Ken!).
The first is actually a dinosaur-shaped building, and while we were lucky enough to be driving right past it, I would have made a special trip eventually just to see it because as I've said before, my love of novelty architecture knows no bounds. Harold's Auto Center, located on Commercial Way in Spring Hill, Florida, was built in 1964 as a Sinclair Oil gas station. Inspired by Sinclair's apatosaurus logo, the dinosaur-shaped structure is 47 feet tall and 110 feet long.
The dinosaur has been home to Harold's Auto Center, a family-owned auto maintenance shop, since 1977. Their website insists that "although we are inside a Dinosaur we stay up to date with what your vehicle needs." I do wish that—like the logo—the dinosaur was painted green, but I love his pimento-filled green olive eyes. I don't miss dealing with car maintenance, but if I did have a car, taking it to a shop shaped like a dinosaur would almost make the experience enjoyable.
A little more than three miles down Commercial Way is a second, smaller dinosaur measuring 22 feet high and 58 feet long. Known simply as the Spring Hill Dinosaur, this one isn't quite identifiable as a single species, but he is much more colorful than his neighbor down the road.
This roadside dinosaur was built in 1962 by taxidermist Jacob Foxbower to promote his family's wildlife museum, once located nearby. The museum closed in 1998, but the dinosaur remains, and this beloved local landmark looks as if it's just been refreshed with a new coat of Pepto-Bismol pink paint.
Harold's Auto Center
5299 Commercial Way
Spring Hill, FL 34606
Spring Hill Dinosaur
US-19 (3.3 miles south of Harold's on the west side of the street)
Spring Hill, FL 34606
Recent Reads
Bodies, by Susie Orbach
I picked up this book at the Strand, thinking it would be like Mary Roach's Stiff, but maybe I should be concerned that my first thought upon seeing a book titled, "Bodies" was that it was about dead ones. The bodies she discusses in this short book are very much alive, however, and this is a somewhat dry account of what it means to have a body (and all of the cultural and emotional issues that come with it). There wasn't too much new information here for me—the bits about infant attachment and mothering were interesting—but she never got too deep into any of the subjects to really hold my interest.
Confessions of a Funeral Director: How the Business of Death Saved My Life, by Caleb Wilde
I can't get enough of memoirs from people who work in the death industry (funeral homes, crematoriums, morgues, etc.) but this one was a bit underwhelming. I was not familiar with his blog, but the perspective of a 5th (on his father's side) and 6th (on his mother's side) generation funeral director seemed promising. I did like his positive outlook, but about half of this (short) book is about God and spirituality. I'm personally not religious at all, but I'm also not against those who are—this book was just a bit too heavy on preaching and too light on real world anecdotes for me.
From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death, by Caitlin Doughty
Back in October, I attended a book launch event for this book at Green-Wood Cemetery, where Doughty read some excerpts and then signed books ("to my future corpse," she wrote in mine). But then I took a break from reading about the death industry because—shocker—it was bumming me out. I also assumed that there wouldn't be much new information in this book for me after having read so much about death practices around the world (I was reading Death's Summer Coat when I attended the signing), but thankfully I was wrong.
I loved Doughty's first book, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes about her time working in a crematory, and since then she's opened up her own non-profit funeral home in LA, founded The Order of the Good Death and became an outspoken advocate of the death positive movement. This is a quick read, but Doughty manages to be hilarious while maintaining an obvious respect for death rituals around the world and the people challenging our own death industry here in the US.
Get Well Soon: History's Worst Plagues and the Heroes that Fought Them, by Jennifer Wright
I just want to say right away that I loved this book. I was reluctant to start it because I worried that a long book about plagues would be a slog to get through (even for me, a person who regularly reads long books about similar subjects), but from the first page I was hooked. It's interesting to me that this book seems to either have five-star or one-star reviews—people either loved and related to Wright's humor and first-person interjections, or they hated them and wished she was more scholarly and dry.
Maybe it's the millennial in me, but I laughed out loud several times and never once found myself thinking, "boy I wish this book was more boring!" I've read a lot about diseases and the history of medicine (including entire books on the Spanish flu, lobotomies, Typhoid Mary and the Incas), and while there was a lot overlap, there was also a lot of new-to-me information. I don't think Wright's writing style or voice gets in the way of the facts, but instead got me so involved in a book about plagues that I actually missed my bus stop one night by several blocks because I was so enthralled.
The Bielski Brothers: The True Story of Three Men Who Defied the Nazis, Built a Village in the Forest, and Saved 1,200 Jews, by Peter Duffy
I was vaguely familiar with the story of the Bielski brothers from seeing the movie Defiance ten years ago, but it was definitely something I wanted to know more about. The subtitle of the book does a good job of summarizing the story, but it was the smaller details that I found the most interesting—day to day life in the forest camps, the differences between the brothers' personalities and what happened to everyone after the war ended.
This is definitely a case of true life being just as interesting and every bit as epic as any work of fiction and the Bielski brothers are so heroic that at times it's hard to think of them as real, flesh and blood humans. But they were real, and after the war they (and some of the people they saved) ended up in Brooklyn—driving a truck, owning a gas station, opening a luncheonette. It broke my heart to learn that they struggled in their later years, anonymous in a sea of immigrants, and it boggles my mind the arc that one human life can traverse. The brothers may not be as famous as Oskar Schindler, or have received as many accolades, but there are countless descendants of the Bielski group alive today because of the brothers' bravery and convictions and that is nothing short of epic.
Happy Friday!
Caffe Reggio illustration by Lindsey Frances
Things that happened recently:
It seems like every week I read another article related to the #metoo movement that makes me think/rage/and feel every other emotion possible. Here's this week's: The Female Price of Male Pleasure.
Despite having very little interest in children (having my own or dealing with other people's) I have been forever obsessed with mom blogs and this article is a fascinating glimpse into the life of a toddler who recently went viral and her mom, who now manages her daughter full-time.
This famous photo was taken 50 years ago and it's still just as unbelievable as when it was first published.
Things to do in New York this weekend:
Today is Groundhog Day and I'll never be able to forget the time that Mayor DeBlasio "dropped" Staten Island Chuck (who was actually Charlotte, Chuck's granddaughter) and she died a week later. Also, the Alamo Drafthouse in Brooklyn is screening the movie Groundhog Day (only once) tonight at 10pm.
Saturday is the monthly Target First Saturdays celebration at the Brooklyn Museum. This month's night is honoring Black History Month with talks, movies, hands-on art workshops, music and more—all free from 5-11 pm. Also, here are some helpful reminders about Black History Month.
Of course you probably know that Sunday is the Super Bowl, and while I don't care at all about football, I do care a great deal about commercials and snacks. I might try my hand at making this delicious-looking cheese dip (minus the devil weed, cilantro) and I already know there won't be leftovers.
Things I've discovered recently:
I'm trying to stick with my goal of reading more books from my own bookshelf this year, so I started reading this book and I'm loving it so far. I think it's even better than The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay and every few sentences I think "damn!" about Michael Chabon's wonderful descriptions and phrasing.
Elton John has announced a three-year farewell tour and I HAVE to get tickets. Tickets for his 2018 Madison Square Garden shows go on sale this morning at 10 am so wish me luck!
I love everything that comes out of the design duo Brave the Woods, but I finally pulled the trigger and bought this Paul and Blue print since I recently saw my first (and hopefully not my last) set of Bunyan and Babe statues.
I had a short work week since we were in Florida on Monday and Tuesday, so this weekend came up on me fast. David and I will probably watch the Super Bowl on Sunday (aka eat a lot of snacks) and maybe see a movie. I'm doing a movie marathon of some of the Oscar-nominated films in a few weeks, but I still need to see The Shape of Water and The Phantom Thread. I'm also hoping to sleep in, maybe finish my book and hopefully have at least one diner breakfast. I love traveling, but sometimes I look forward to our weekend routines just as much. I hope you have a great weekend, however you choose to spend it!
Manatee Burying Ground
Despite its name, the Manatee Burying Ground in Bradenton, Florida is, unfortunately, not a place to bury actual manatees. But it is one of the oldest organized burying grounds on the Gulf Coast of Florida, and it's located just a few minutes from where we were staying (David's parents' house) on our recent trip. Deeded in 1850, the property is owned by the city of Bradenton (located in Manatee County) and since 1849, only immediate family members of those already buried in the cemetery can be interred here.
We drove past this cemetery and lured by its intriguing arched metal entrance gate, I gently suggested that we turn around and check it out. It's surrounded by a fence and the main gate was locked. Just as we were considering a little bit of light trespassing / fence-hopping, we noticed that a side gate that had appeared locked was actually open. Unsurprisingly, due to its strict familial restrictions, the cemetery only contains 94 identifiable graves. The last interment was in 1967, a granddaughter of the cemetery founders, Josiah and Mary Gates.
Notable interments here include 11 Confederate soldiers, three Union Army veterans, a private who served in the Seminole War and three members of the Florida Succession Convention. During weekends in October, the cemetery hosts an event called "Spirit Voices from Old Manatee," a torchlight tour with actors portraying some of Manatee's permanent residents.
Although I know geographically it is, I don't really think of Florida as the "South"—but this small cemetery reminded me a lot of other cemeteries I've explored in Savannah, Charleston and New Orleans. The Spanish moss was draped over stones and gates like someone was dressing a set for "haunted southern cemetery." The Manatee Burying Ground was a lovely accidental discovery and the perfect cemetery to explore—small enough to not be overwhelming, but with a diverse and historic collection of old tombstones and monuments.
"How strange it seems / with so much gone of life and love / to still live on."
The Manatee Burying Ground
15th St And 6th Ave E
Bradenton, FL 34205
Visit Manatee Village Historical Park to borrow the key to the cemetery between 9 a.m.-4 p.m. Monday through Friday, and the second and fourth Saturdays of each month (or just check to see if the side gate is open, like we did).
Cabazon Dinosaurs
I can't remember the first time I saw Pee-Wee's Big Adventure (it came out the year I was born, 1985), but I do remember being a huge fan of Pee-Wee's Playhouse as a kid. It wasn't until a rewatch of the movie recently that I realized just how much of an influence Pee-Wee Herman must have had on my general aesthetic. In the opening sequence he has a skull hanging over his bed, he brushes his teeth with a novelty toothbrush, he has oversized utensils, his breakfast has a face and his yard is full of fiberglass statues. His house is literally my dream house.
Second only to the Wigwam Motel, the top destination for my California trip with my friend Jim was the Cabazon Dinosaurs. I love dinosaur parks (I've been to Dinosaur World in KY and Dinosaur Land in VA) and the added Pee-Wee pedigree made the Cabazon Dinosaurs a must-see. Pee-Wee is dropped off by Large Marge in front of the dinosaurs and he and the waitress from a nearby diner share their dreams inside of Mr. Rex's mouth (the mouth in the movie was most definitely a set—it's much smaller in real life).
Dinny the Dinosaur and Mr. Rex are located west of Palm Springs, about two-and-a-half hours from Los Angeles. Claude Bell started constructing the dinosaurs in 1964, hoping to drive traffic to his nearby diner, The Wheel Inn. Dinny, the 150-foot-tall brontosaurus was completed first, in 1975 and Mr. Rex, a 65-foot-tall T-Rex was completed in 1985. Bell died in 1988 at age 91, and the property remained with his family until the mid '90s.
Inside of Dinny is a gift shop (the souvenirs were disappointing) and it's also where you purchase tickets to Mr. Rex’s Dinosaur Adventure, an add-on attraction featuring more than 50 dinosaur figures, a fossil dig and access to Mr. Rex. You can see the outside of both dinosaurs without paying admission, but it's definitely worth the $12 to survey the site from behind Mr. Rex's huge teeth (there is also a squished penny machine in a second gift shop located within the Dinosaur Adventure attraction).
Despite having seen photos of these dinosaurs for years on Instagram, seeing them in person was still so much better than I even expected it to be. We went early in the morning so it wasn't overrun with children, and later in our hotel room we watched Pee-Wee's Big Adventure and I had such a new appreciation for the Cabazon scenes. The one major disappointment, however is that The Wheel Inn closed in 2013. It sat abandoned for a few years before being recently demolished. When we went all that remained of the landmark diner was a pile of rubble and I'm sad that I'll never be able to walk in and say "Large Marge sent me."
Letchworth Village 2018
I've been itching for an "adventure" day lately, so last week, despite the cold, we bundled up and headed upstate. We had initially planned on exploring remnants of the Borscht Belt resorts, but realized that the trip would put us over our ZipCar mile limit (ugh) so we decided to check out the abandoned parts of Rockland County Psychiatric. I'd been dreaming about exploring RCP for years, ever since I learned that it had a bowling alley, but unfortunately (for us, at least) the buildings look as if they're in the process of being demolished. They were all circled by construction fences and workers were milling about, proving that when you're dealing with abandoned places, you can never be sure of what you're going to find (or not find).
After it became clear that Rockland County Psych was a bust, we implemented the back-up plan to the back-up plan: Letchworth Village. We'd partially explored Letchworth in July, but there was still so much left to explore. Letchworth's campus once consisted of more than 130 buildings, and although there aren't that many left, it's still full of fascinating, slowly crumbling structures.
Letchworth Village was built as a home for the mentally and physically disabled—you can read more about its sordid history in my first post—and it's been abandoned since 1996. The buildings are covered in graffiti but there is still a surprising amount of stuff left inside—hospital beds, tubs, dental equipment, papers, dishes, cups and chairs (so many chairs!).
This time we explored mostly dormitories—all of which had the same general layout and began to blend together after a while—but my main goal for the day was to find the "morgue." I'd seen photos of it and was upset that we had missed it on our first visit. I didn't have much information on where to find it, but I had read that the hospital building was located north of the boys' dormitories, so I knew we were in the right general vicinity.
We knew we were close when we entered a large building and saw what appeared to be dental equipment, and soon enough David rounded the corner and said "here's something." I think calling it a morgue may be inaccurate, but these four cold storage slots were obviously for storing bodies. Medical testing took place at Letchworth—willingly or not—and in 1950, the first trial case of the polio vaccine was administered to an 8-year-old patient. Luckily, the patient suffered no side effects and the vaccine was administered to 19 more children, none of which developed complications.
When I got home, I looked up Geraldo's award-winning 1972 documentary, Willowbrook: The Last Great Disgrace, in which Geraldo likens the conditions at Letchworth to the abuse and neglect that he found at the Willowbrook State School in Staten Island. The documentary even includes brief footage of the squalid conditions that he and his camera crew discovered during a surprise visit to Letchworth. It was incredibly sad to watch, and it exacerbated my already complicated feelings about exploring places like this. I find the decay process of buildings to be fascinating and I'm interested in the history and lives contained within the leftovers—but knowing about the horrors that occurred here doesn't make me sad that nature is slowly reclaiming these buildings.
Happy Friday!
Illustration by Lindsey Frances // 2018 Women's March photos here
Things that happened recently:
David alerted me to this recent New Yorker article about one of our favorite places in Brooklyn, Dead Horse Bay. If you want to know more about Barren Island (like I did) here is another good article about it and I'm excited to read this book that I recently ordered about the history of New York City's garbage.
The Schitt's Creek season 4 premiere was this week—I'm obsessed with this show and it's killing me to have to wait for it to come to Netflix (you can watch seasons 1-3 now). The cast came to 92Y this week and you can watch the talk here and a short trailer for season 4 here ("It's probably nothing, but I think I've killed a man").
This week the US had its 11th school shooting—of 2018. The New York Times didn't mince words with this headline and I think this tweet perfectly explains how absurd things feel right now.
Things to do in New York this weekend:
The Central Park Winter Jam is this Saturday, featuring skiing, snowshoeing, sledding, ice sculpting and something called "arctic golf." Because we now live in a wacky weather world, the event has a rain date (February 3rd) and one year it was cancelled altogether because it had snowed too much.
It's New York Restaurant Week, which somewhat confusingly lasts more than two weeks from January 22-February 9th. I don't have plans (yet) but in the past I've gone to the Russian Tea Room, Delmonico's and Red Rooster. During Restaurant Week a three-course prix-fixe lunch is only $29 and dinner is $42.
The warmer weather this weekend would be perfect for ice skating—the LeFrak Center in Prospect Park is usually less crowded than other city rinks and it's only $9 for adults.
Things I've discovered recently:
After reading this article about the fascinating trend of arsenic wallpapers, I spent way too long browsing this book of samples, digitized because even with careful handling the book is dangerous to your health.
I became enamored with The Everywhereist after reading her viral cinnamon roll post and I immediately reserved her book at the library. I started reading it this week and it's so good. I love medical non-fiction and really dense novels, but every once in a while a smart, snappy memoir is the perfect brain snack.
After browsing photos of myself on Facebook (this is a normal thing to do, right?) I realized that most of my clothes were 10+ years old and I decided that I deserved something new and pretty. I then impulse-bought this sweater exclusively because of the color, and it's so soft and warm and I hope I have it for at least the next ten years.
Ok, so this is actually the weekend when David and I are going to Florida. His parents have a house in Bradenton, so we'll be flying into Sarasota on Saturday and staying with them until Tuesday. I have a few fun things on my list to see, including the mermaids at Weeki Wachee, a dinosaur-shaped auto center and the sponge capital of the world. We're also going to revisit Tootsie, who has recently undergone a dramatic makeover and probably hang out a beach at some point (because David loves the beach and I love him). The weather is supposed to warm up again in New York, but I'm still looking forward to temps in the 70s and exploring the weird whimsy that is unique to Florida. Have a great weekend, wherever it takes you!
Grahamland
Despite having occurred over just four days in October, I still haven't posted about everything my mom and I saw on our road trip to (and from) South of the Border. On the second day, before we reached South of the Border—and in between visiting the World's Largest Frying Pan and the World's Largest Tire—we made a slight detour around Delco, North Carolina. I had an address on my map with the note "UniRoyal Gal and fiberglass animals in yard."
It was getting dark and we were nearing the end of our route for the day. I was eager to get to South of the Border and debated internally whether or not this mystery address was worth the detour. My mom wanted each stop to be a surprise, and although I pre-planned most of our destinations, even I wasn't exactly sure what we'd find at some of them. My mom had actually been the one to point out my first UniRoyal Gal on a road trip in 2016 and they're very rare (I saw my second in Florida last year), so I ultimately decided that even the possibility of seeing one was worth the extra drive.
We were getting close to the address but I was confused because we were on a pretty busy road (Highway 74) and just as I was doubting my intel, we passed a house set back from the road with a yard full of fiberglass animals. It was very obviously a private residence and we debated if we should even pull into the driveway. We quickly decided to take a chance, figuring that the owner of such a whimsical collection couldn't be too upset with a mother and daughter who were on a road trip specifically to seek out such things.
We didn't see anyone around, so we parked and got out to snap a few quick photos. I'm usually painfully shy and will avoid talking to strangers at any cost, but I was secretly hoping that the owner would see us and come out to chat about his enviable collection—one that we soon realized included not one, but two UniRoyal Gals. After a few minutes, I got my wish and we were greeted by one of the nicest men I've ever met, Hubert Graham.
Graham introduced himself as the owner of the property, which we later learned he refers to as Grahamland. When my mom asked if he had restored the UniRoyal Gals himself, Graham said, "Oh, I made those. I have the original mold." Most of the UniRoyal Gals were made in the '60s by International Fiberglass (makers of most Muffler Men) and UniRoyal stopped using them as promotional tools in the '70s. American Giants says they know of 17 Gals, 12 of which are on display currently. The original mold somehow made its way from California to North Carolina, where Graham bought it from his mentor in the fiberglass business.
He has two completed—the beach gal and the cowgal—and has plans to make a Native American and a black woman. When the fiberglass company Graham once worked for went out of business, he bought all of their fiberglass, resin and molds. He makes every one of the fiberglass figures on his property and his girlfriend helps paint them.
Grahamland is more than just a whimsical yard—Graham has dreams to turn it into an amusement park and mini golf course. He has plans to put some of the animals on motorized bases, and envisions a seafood restaurant topped with a lighthouse, talking cars and flying horses. When we mentioned that we were on our way to South of the Border, Graham told us to look out for a dozen of his pink flamingoes.
My mom and I were overwhelmed with the generosity and kindness of Graham, and luckily he said that he loves visitors. He even took our photo, which I later found on his Facebook page, and I instantly regretted not snapping one of him too. Unfortunately, Graham was on his way to work—he has a "real" job laying fiber optic cable—so we couldn't stay very long, but we were thankful that we caught him before the gate closed for the night.
Later in our hotel, we read all about Graham's ambitions and fell even more in love with his vision. But even if Grahamland never fully comes to fruition, I have so much respect for people like Graham—hard-working, passionate, generous and slightly eccentric people who make the world around them a little brighter.
Recent Reads
Cannibalism: A Perfectly Natural History, by Bill Schutt
This was one of those books that I'm sure got me flagged on some government list somewhere when I checked it out at the library. If anyone close to me ever gets suspiciously murdered, I'm definitely a goner when they submit my library checkout history into evidence. But, despite this book having a macabre title, it's actually more about science than sensationalism.
It took a little time for me to really get into this book—I know there are frogs on the cover, but I didn't expect to be reading so much about tadpoles and snails—but when the discussion turned to humans I was hooked. Schutt even mentions that he deliberately doesn't give much space to criminal cannibalism since it's been overplayed, and in hindsight of course he's right. Understanding all of the factors—both environmental and evolutionary—that drive a species to consume their own kind isn't necessarily as riveting as reading about Ed Gein and his human nipple belt, but now I'll have the necessary background when I do.
The Poisoner: The Life and Crimes of Victorian England's Most Notorious Doctor, by Stephen Bates
I really wanted to love this book, but maybe it was a bad omen that I renewed it four times at the library before finally starting it. It was also just, not that great of a book. The story of William Palmer is mildly interesting, but pretty standard as far as Victorian-era poisonings go (and I've read about quite a few of them). Bates is also not a great writer, and one reviewer pointed out that it seemed as if he was being paid by the word, which I know was a joke but also, I hope that's true—otherwise this book is about 150 pages too long for absolutely no reason.
Where other writers might think it was their job to summarize primary sources, Bates just excerpts them in the text—over and over and over again. By the end of this book I was just skimming for new information, which was increasingly sparse. I'm not sorry I finished it, but now I understand why twelve weeks went by without anyone else in the New York City library system requesting a copy.
Manson: The Life and Times of Charles Manson, by Jeff Guinn
As soon as I heard that Charles Manson had died, I realized I knew very little about his life and immediately reserved this biography at the library. I have always wanted to read Helter Skelter, but after reading Jeff Guinn's book about Jim Jones, I knew this biography would be a good read. It exceeded even my high expectations, and is easily one of the best biographies I've ever read.
Manson is notorious of course, for orchestrating a series of nine murders in the summer of 1969, but I discovered that there was so much more to him and his followers than just the highlights. The facts of Manson's life are fascinating on their own, but Guinn is such a good writer that I want him to write about every cult leader and serial killer that he possibly can and I wish I could pre-order all of them.
Lady Killers: Deadly Women Throughout History, by Tori Telfer
I enjoyed the premise and the tone of this book, but the actual stories themselves were all a little too repetitive by the end. Telfer explains in the conclusion why she didn't include any modern serial killers—the most recent story is from the 1950s—but I eventually tired of reading about yet another woman accused of poisoning several of her husbands, hundreds of years ago. Maybe my reception of this book just signals that I should take a break from the murder/poison genre for a while, but after finishing one of the stories about a woman and her delicious meals full of "white granules," I will never look at a sea-salt caramel the same way again.
The Mysterious Benedict Society, by Trenton Lee Stewart
I can't count how many times I'd seen this book in the ten years since it was first published and thought "I know I'm going to love this book." It was partially the title, and partially the excellent cover illustration (and typography), but my intuition was spot on: I loved this book. I was wary of the length when I picked it up from the library, but I shouldn't have worried—I tore through it and finished it in five days. I've seen comparisons drawn from Stewart to Roald Dahl and Lemony Snicket, which are both accurate but TMBS also reminded me a lot of my all-time favorite YA mystery book, The Westing Game.
I've always been a voracious reader, and exclusively read fiction as a kid. Young me would have been obsessed with this book, but turns out 32-year-old me was just as obsessed. I somehow got into a non-fiction rut as an adult, and almost forgot how transporting a really good novel can be. This book is technically young adult fiction, but it never feels childish. I loved the characters and the puzzles and I really couldn't (or at least didn't want to) put this book down until I knew how it ended. There are two others in the series (and two more supplemental books) that I will definitely be reading soon, because like any truly great book, I raced to the finish and then felt inexplicably sad that it was over.
Women's March 2018
In some ways I can't believe it's been an entire year since the Women's March in Washington, and in some ways it feels as if that was ages ago. The pussy hats were back and a lot of the sentiments were the same this year, but the mood of this year's women's march in New York felt notably different.
People are still hopeful, but we're tired. We've survived a year that felt like several, during which time sometimes seemed to run backwards at an alarming rate. But at the same time we've also kept moving forward, and every day since has felt like an extension of the Women's March.
Every woman that has spoken up and been brave enough to say #metoo is marching this country forward. Every man that has believed those women enough to look inward and examine how he treats others is marching forward. Every little girl who grows up believing that she can do great things not in spite of her sex, but because of it is marching us all forward.
I think you can draw a direct line from the Trump administration to the #metoo movement, and I think you can track marked progress from the last Women's March. Things are far from perfect, obviously, but I think it's wise to acknowledge that progress occurs in both leaps and baby steps, both of which are essential to affecting lasting change.
Sure, New York can feel like a bubble but I resist that characterization because I think it too easily dismisses what New York does so very right. Every single day that I've lived here, I've come in contact with people who don't look like me, speak like me, or live like me. And every single day I realize more and more that we're all just people—annoying, busy, lazy, energetic, loving, flawed, exceptional, average, beautiful, strange, boring people.
The Women's March is not the answer to all of our problems, but it's nice to feel hopeful for a few hours and to be surrounded by so many strong, passionate and compassionate humans. It's refreshing to be part of a movement where women are not only speaking up for themselves, but maybe, just maybe, people are actually starting to listen.
Happy Friday!
Illustration by Lindsey Frances
Things that happened recently:
Everyone is talking about Aziz Ansari this week—here are two good articles that I think do a good job of explaining why this story matters and why it's not just as simple as "she should've just left."
The flu is particularly nasty this year, and ever since reading this book about the 1918 pandemic I've been terrified of living through a similar situation. Apparently the flu shot is even less effective this year than in year's past, so be careful out there, wash your hands and don't be that jerk who comes into work sick and infects your coworkers!
I never thought it would happen, but the basket-shaped Longaberger Basket headquarters in Newark, Ohio has finally sold—and while the new owners will repurpose the inside, they intend to keep the iconic basket shape.
Things to do in New York this weekend:
Today is Edgar Allan Poe's birthday (happy 209th, Edgar!) and tomorrow the Bronx HIstorical Society will celebrate his life "with an illustrated presentation about his famous work experience living in the Bronx." The free event will be held at the Poe Visitor Center, located right next to Poe's cottage on Grand Concourse in the Bronx.
I've taken several tours at Green-Wood Cemetery and they're always excellent. This Saturday you can take a Dead Distillers Trolley Tour, and visit the Green-Wood residents with connections to whiskey distilling. The tour also includes a tour and tasting at Kings County Distillery in the Brooklyn Navy Yard. If you can't make the tour, you can read the book or read my review of it here.
Can you believe it's been an entire year since the Women's March? There are anniversary marches all over the country, and I'm planning to join the one here on Saturday.
Things I've discovered this week:
I caved and finally ordered this bathmat that I don't need but definitely wanted. It's backordered until February, but it will be a nice surprise whenever it shows up.
Like the rest of the Internet, I'm obsessed with the Google Arts and Culture app. I keep getting matched with pasty old Dutch women in bonnets and young men (pretty accurate, tbh) and I'm still laughing at this tweet.
I started reading From Here to Eternity: Traveling the World to Find the Good Death this week and my copy had a postcard slipped inside about the art exhibit, Icons in Ash (I bought my copy at a book signing event with the author at Green-Wood Cemetery). The New York exhibition unfortunately ended in May, but Heide Hatry's cremation portraits (using actual cremains to create a portrait of the deceased) are incredible.
So David and I are going to Florida on the 27th, but I thought it was this weekend until a few days ago, so I basically discovered an entire week in January that I didn't know existed. We never got to watching The Godfather parts 2 and 3 last weekend but it's supposed to be warmer this weekend so maybe that will have to wait until we feel like hibernating again. On Saturday I'm planning to join the Women's March here in the city (details above) and I'm looking forward to being able to shed a few layers since the high is supposed to hit 50 (a heat wave!). I hope you have a good weekend, wherever you're spending it!
Hudson River Ice
This winter started off with a shock of unseasonably cold weather for which I was most definitely not prepared. I finally reconciled with the arctic temps just in time for it to warm up (and then get cold again—it's hard to keep up) and I'm glad that winter and I are back on good terms because I have a special kind of love for winter in New York.
Five years ago (!) on January 11th, 2013, I very quickly uprooted my life in Ohio and moved to New York for what I started calling a "trial period" of two months. I had wanted to live in New York for most of my life, but I still was wary of making the commitment. A (somewhat surprise) break-up triggered the quick getaway and I had a job that allowed me to work remotely, easing the transition. Even though I was pretty sure about the outcome, I wanted my move to New York to be backed up by evidence and not just romance.
I spent those two months exploring the city—on my lunch break, after work and on the weekends—and although I had been here many times before, I discovered that living in New York 24/7 was infinitely different than being here on vacation. I had friends here, but I was alone more often than not, and I learned more about myself in those two months than I had in the several years prior.
I had initially thought that the winter was the worst possible time for my trial run, thinking that the city would be miserably cold and bleak. Ohio winters are no joke, but after a life of heated seats and limited time spent outside, I dreaded having to walk outdoors so much in the winter. I quickly realized, however, that the right clothes and shoes can make all of the difference, and I came to cherish the way the city empties out after the holidays, the way the bare trees expose previously obscured views and of course, the magical way everything looks coated in a fresh layer of snow (fresh being the operative word).
I was worried at the beginning of this season that I had finally lived in New York long enough to become immune to its charms. But then I layered up and took a walk along the icy Hudson—mesmerized by the bobbing ice floes—and remembered why I fell in love with this city in the first place.
In 1780, during the American Revolution, the New York harbor completely froze over, and in the 1800s, the East River froze over several times—solid enough that it was possible to walk from Manhattan to Brooklyn. A combination of high salinity levels and frequent boat traffic usually keeps the Hudson from freezing over completely, although it's technically still possible.
When the two months were up and I went back to Ohio, I knew it wouldn't be long until I returned to New York again for good, and five months later I moved for real. It was unbearably hot in those first weeks, and the winters here can feel relentlessly grey and cold, a season of death and deep freeze. But after several years spent feeling as if I was merely existing in a self-imposed dormancy, it was in the dead of winter that I truly started to come alive again.
The most fantastic thing about the New York Botanical Garden’s annual Orchid Show is the orchids themselves