Burlington by way of Stowe VT
09/August/2015 07:22 AM
Buenos dias, laddies. It's a fine morning here in Stow VT. Kick ass, really. Don't know about this coffee joint but it sure helps to have some caffeine. It was Nancy's idea to come to Stow but I'm good with going to places we've never been before. It's small, quaint, and well, as they say maybe a little to often here in Vermont, bucolic. Oh, and it's foggy. We're hoping to get some biking in today before the day gets too long in the tooth so I'm looking forward to that. I was a little disappointed that they only had egg sandwiches in this place. I was hoping for some quiche. Yes, a real manly breakfast. Just trying to stay away from the bread. I think gluten may not be the friend I was looking for all these years. The more I hear about people trying to avoid it it makes me wonder if it isn't something worth avoiding. And there are those days you are just looking to put something in your stomach. This might be one of those days. Nonetheless, I'll stay away from the bread given half a chance.
People are filing into this place at a pretty good clip now as the hour gets closer to 8. The village is waking up I guess. Where are all the farmers? The fisherman? The breakfast cooks? The beauticians? And, where are all the fucking Vietnamese nail buffers? I may be two cups of coffee into my morning before I start seeing them. I'm wondering about this trail we're supposed to be riding on today too. Is it too long? Is it long enough? Is it too busy? Does it overlook anything of interest? Will I get a flat tire? Stay positive, Johnny. The day is long and it is all in front of you. Better than that, and honest to god let's get with the program, your week is ahead of you. You have no meetings and no conference calls. No taking your laptop into the nearest huddle room to catch a tier two anything. I love the people but the process is tedious. So, I put all of that behind me this week and I get to think about things I want to think about. World hunger; trading derivatives; world markets; books I have but haven't yet read; music that hasn't been written; Paths that haven't been travelled; fishing spots that haven't been fished; am I forgetting anything?
This is such a nice little spot. I'm seated at a window table, one of two in this place, and I'm left wondering when Starbucks is coming to town and just how long this place will stay in business once that happens. Looking out over the town from my seat, the fog is burning off slowly revealing more and more of the distant pastures with every sip of my coffee. I think all of the fog may yet burn off and it could be a steamy day. That's okay, right? I mean, does it really matter? I'm not one to obsess about such things when alternatives abound. There are 81 restaurants in Stowe. Who knew. Just walking to this coffee shop I think I passed 5 of them. Where the fuck are all the rest? Turns out we ate at one of the best last night. Oh, and you're a bloody restaurant critic now, are you? All I would say is that while we had a moments hesitation when we were told that they couldn't accommodate us without a reservation we got over ourselves fairly quickly and took a seat at the mahogany horseshoe shaped bar where we decided that it was someplace we could probably eat and be okay with it.
I ordered steamed mussels in some kind of cream sauce served with a hot roll and topped with some kind of gritty concoction which is hard to describe but was quite good. Sometimes you're just thankful that food that should be served hot is served as advertised and this was. The bar itself was in the basement of a building in downtown Stowe but looked like it had been a bar for well over a hundred years and maybe more. Seating and spacing was not generous by any stretch of the imagination but that may have been part and parcel the pubs allure. It was a small space and you couldn't navigate the aisles without turning one or more parts of your body to the side or stopping altogether to let someone to pass. I order a stir fry as well and hoped for less rice and or pasta and more vegetables. The serving size was surprisingly small but sufficient nonetheless and I was satisfied that I had ordered the right dish. Nancy ordered shrimp tacos and the shrimp were halved and braised on one side and very flavorful. I'm not a big fan of fish, shrimp, or other types of tacos but I had one shrimp off her plate and took what she didn't eat back to the hotel for a snack later that evening. We both ordered drinks and were both fairly intoxicated and unsteady on our feet after having just one beverage. As we got up to leave, the stairs leading up and out of the place seemed steeper than we remembered them coming in. Thank god for handrails.
I've seen and heard a few cars going through town that sported very loud mufflers. Either the rules around here when it comes to this sort of thing are extremely lax or there are more than a few vehicles that will more than likely not pass inspection when the time comes. And the locals? An earthy bunch to be sure. You can tell by the way they dress. Birkenstocks and bell bottoms. And the music? It's a throw back from the 70's wherever you go. Were it not for certain things in and about town I would say that this is a town that has been forgotten by time. Don't get me wrong. I like Creedence Clearwater, Led Zeppelin, and others from back in the 70's. And this watering hole, as I understand it, is an extremely popular place to frequent especially in the winter. It is a veritable skiers paradise and most of the growth over the last number of years has been due to that interest. Not entirely a bad thing I suppose. It is, no doubt, a small price to pay in order to survive the winter months in this mountain enclave.
I don't know that we'll be getting our bike ride in today due to the rain. It's not raining hard but it is raining so Nancy may not want to go. I would go but certainly not if it starts raining any harder than it is now. I'm looking out the window here at the cafe and see umbrellas and windshield wipers so that should tell you something. In a way, taking biking off the table frees up time from our schedule to do other things before we check out so I think I'm ok with the rain. I might like to stay here at my little table near the window and put a bit more down on "paper." Maybe not. Maybe I just want to sit down and have a leisurely breakfast, an omelet or something. Maybe I just want to sip my coffee rather than chugging it just to move the day along. Vacations mean slowing down, not speeding up. When your destination is the town that time forgot you should take note and live in the moment no matter how long that moment takes.
It was good that we took the car last night and drove on the highway leading out of town in an effort to find a place to have dinner. It felt good to be in the car again for some odd reason. It felt good to roll down the windows and let the air circulate around us cooling things down and putting a stop to the humidity that was ever present but not overly oppressive. It just kind of wears you down so better to change things up and that is what we did. I think Nancy was a little tired from all of her kicking around town and as much as she enjoyed doing what she was doing it was good for her to change it up as well. We pulled in to a parking lot at a restaurant called "The Bench" where we got the last parking spot. We took that as a good sign. The more popular the place, the better the food and drink, the livelier the atmosphere, the better. Right?
That turned out to be true for the most part. The place was spacious and as bustling as the parking situation suggested and we were promptly seated at a pleasant table in a corner where the light was nice, the view was good from at least one of the seats (Nancy's), and our waitress was efficient but not overly self effacing. It was one of those places built around a wood burning oven and most but not all items on the menu were pizza related. Or, do they call it flatbread these days. I ordered the mussels and they too were cooked in the oven. The mussels were served in a small cast iron skillet and came steeped in a tomato based broth that reminded me a little bit of spaghetti sauce. While that didn't thrill me I could have just as easily had the sauce on pasta and would have found that to be acceptable meal. There were just enough mussels to satisfy me before the main course was served so I was happy, how do they say, as a clam. Nancy did not get an appetizer and she is not a fan of mussels so sharing was not necessary. We sipped our soda waters till the entrees were served and had a jolly good time taking in the sights and enjoying our time together. When the salads arrived, hers topped with chicken and mine with ahi tuna, we busied ourselves with the task at hand. All in all, a decent meal with only a minor indiscretion here and there which we happily ignored. Who serves salads without tomatoes?
We told Evan that we might be coming home a day earlier when talking to him on the phone last night. He was not pleased. We were just jawboning about going to Burlington or not going to Burlington depending on the weather and that was one of the options. Who wants to go to Burlington if the rain keeps us from enjoying the sights and sounds of one of our favorite destinations? Nancy was certainly not deterred and as I sit here this morning I'm thinking as well that rain or no rain going to Burlington was not a bad idea. We're taking this trip as a dry run to a larger trip coming soon so we might as well take advantage of the opportunity. Besides, what would we be doing at home in the rain that we can't do just as easily in Burlington?
One of the comments we saw in trip advisor, as it relates to this watering hole of a town, is that flies are a problem. Not sure what that is all about but I can tell you firsthand that we've seen them here and about town from the moment we stepped into town. We've not stayed at outdoor cafes just to avoid them. Even here at the cafe, at the early hour of 7, I was seated for no more than a minute when I had a little visitor. Just go away! We're not talking about those big bad boys or even green heads whose bites can stop you in your tracks. These are common, everyday, houseflies or so it seems. Maybe they are the kinds of flies that morph out of decay and hint of morbidity and death. A harbinger of things to come. If we're seeing them it may well be too late for us. All we can do is swat them away and hope that wherever we go that they do not follow. They are pesky little fucks so worth mentioning. Not that anyone cares or can do anything about it.
I can hear people ordering at the counter, children crying out for their parents attention, the clatter of cups and the shuffling of feet, the jostling of chairs, and the constant but pleasant banter offered by the staff as their patrons file in and out of the cafe. The door behinds me opens and closes quietly but with a telltale creek probably not worthy of someones attention. My nose is squarely to the grindstone and my head is buzzing with thoughts that may or may not ever become clear enough to get down for posterity. There is a small child seated at a nearby table. She is cute as a button and she sits quietly. Whether she is amused, bewildered, astonished, or none of those things I'll never know. She is caught up in the moment as perhaps any other child her age and that may be for the better. Her parents, I'm sure thankfully, need not cajole, mollify, or even pay attention to her in her moment of peace. Her sweet unintelligible voice fills the air from time to time reminding her caretakers that she occupies space in the universe just as they do and that she is just as if not more important than they are. She is the future after all and that has become lost in the momentous rhythms of their collective family existence. They would do well to pay her the attention she deserves for chances like this are fleeting at best. There will, no doubt, be others but none as opportune as this. Just ask her, she'll tell you.
My coffee is getting cold but that is not unexpected so I keep putting one foot in front of the other until I don't or can't. I'm wanting all of the "hands up,don't shoot" crowd in Ferguson to go away or get locked up. Grievances my ass. Get a fucking job and get off the streets. If you don't obey the cops then you go to jail. It's as simple as that. And will someone please tell Obama that the Iran deal is off the table and there will be no deal? That asshole can't get out of office fast enough for me. And yes, we want to defund Planned Parenthood and sanctuary cities since there is a rule of law and without a rule of law we're doomed as a society. Obama's reign has given rise to candidates like Trump who are no more suited to sit in the White House than its present occupant. I was awake at 4 this morning reading about Governor Mike Pence who signed a bill into law requiring that aborted fetuses deserve to be treated with dignity and respect and will forthwith be either buried or cremated once aborted. They will no longer be sold for their body parts or washed down drains by the Planned Parenthoods of the world. If you can't outlaw the very act of abortion you can at the very least provide a modicum of dignity and respect for its victims. This very subject is saddening and the rain outside is falling with greater intensity now making the world outside my own little sanctuary here in the coffee shop seem dark and foreboding.
Burlington is everything we thought it would be and more. We were here many years ago but some things never change. It is a beautiful little town that sits on the edge of Lake Champlain and is by and large a college town. Maybe tourism comes in a close second. Not sure. We hemmed and we hawed before making our way north and hour or so from Stowe due to the weather but those fears were largely allayed when the rain stopped and the skies cleared by the time we arrived in town. We knew a couple of things. We knew we wanted to grab a bite to eat and we knew we wanted to get out of the car and walk around town a bit if for no other reason than to get reacquainted with an old haunt. Well, a haunt in the sense that it was a favorite destination even though we've only been there but a handful of times. On one occasion, in fact, we drove several hours north to Burlington so we could catch a ferry to New York where we then traveled south until we ended up in Lake George. Talk about haunts. Someone recently referred to Lake George as my happy place. I had to think about that for a moment but it is, in fact, true. It also happens to be where I grew up.
We also knew we wanted to see the movie or documentary of Amy Winehouse's life so we set sail on that particular course. We made the mistake of not making hotel reservations in town so had to travel south a few miles before we could find what we considered to be suitable accommodations. You would be surprised at how flexible your requirements become when the sun sets and you are tired after a long day of activities. Had it not been for plans we made to see the movie later that evening, and our desire to see the documentary after blowing off a number of opportunities back in New Hampshire, we might well have driven the 3-4 hours it was going to take to get back home. I was up to the drive and getting a little tired of all of the nonsense we ran into while looking for a place for the night. How is it that every time we got on the phone with someone to ask about reservations we ended up talking a person in Southeast Asia who couldn't understand us when said the word "Burlington." That's "B" as in boy. They were quite clear about there being no availability so that was a good thing. Time to get off the phone and continue our search. Thanks for nothing.
We had lunch at Mirabelle's in Burlington. Maybe I order chef salads because of the variability in how they are assembled. Maybe I like them because they combine salad with a bunch of other things that pass for protein and protein is a good thing. Only four dressings on the menu? What is that all about? I opted for the sesame ginger because everything else seem to have a cream base and I was wanting to do without something creamy and glutenous. The cafe was lively with families, couples, students, professors and the like. There were a couple of fuddy duddies sitting within earshot of us reading their students papers off their cell phones and comparing notes as though they were the only patrons in the place. A big mistake in my humble opinion. What if I recognized my son's writing and heard them saying nasty things about his writing style or, worse yet, his ability to complete a sentence using the english language. How intolerant would I be? Would I let on that I thought he was a nitwit and that commenting on someone's writing in a public place was an asinine thing to do? Who knows.
Nancy, for whatever reason, had a more resilient memory of the things we did back in Burlington back in the day. She kept asking me if I remembered this or remembered that and I kept drawing blanks. Some things I remembered very well but other things not so much. I was a little surprised at the things she remembered and wondered if I should have retained the same memories or were these things she experienced and I did not? Worse yet, were these things that the two of us experienced and now only one of us remembers? I do think that there is such a thing as retaining things that have no value and I would dismiss that as time not well spent. I would go so far as to say that I would make an extra effort to not do that and would encourage anyone who is willing to listen to do the same thing. Maybe I should take more pictures and I could refer to them under the cover of darkness the next time she asks down the road. I thought for a moment that I might make something up just to stump her so I wasn't the only one experiencing pre-alzheimers. Thank god for GPS is all I have to say. What I forget, it remembers. Or, it figures it out while I'm still scratching my chinny-chin-chin.
I was so trying to be good last night when we waltzed into the city market after the show around 10:30 and for the most part I succeeded. I wanted to avoid eating garbage before bedtime but thought that something, a small something, a snack of miniscule proportions might be just what the doctor ordered. The place was a busy even at the late hour of 10:30 and I went with the hustle bustle and allowed it take me where it would until I found myself in a good place. I avoided the pastries, the quick meals packaged for folks on the go, the ten-piece sushi dishes that would have been fine were it not for the rice that I wanted to avoid, and frozen food section which was for people more patient than I and with infinitely more time on their hands.
It was raining quite hard when we left the theater but it had stopped by the time we reached the market that was close by. I managed to have a slightly soggy shirt which quickly chilled when I entered the market. I felt almost hypothermic and sought out the warm exhaust emanating from one or more of the refrigeration chests where I took refuge for seconds at a time while considering my next move. Nancy was well on her way to other areas in the store and had left me to my own devices which was fine. I just needed to get over myself and get on with the task at hand. My final selections were reasonable ones. I grabbed a small take-out container of both hummus and egg salad and consumed both in section of the store set aside for folks wanting to have a bite to eat before leaving the store. I bought a container of peanut butter to take home and thought long and hard about where I might be keeping it once at home given Evan's peanut allergy.
I am preoccupied this vacation with all things market related. We're talking about the financial markets and not food markets for a change. Two of my favorite subjects truth be told. I understand the underpinnings of neither particularly well but both are all consuming and of intense interest to me. I wish I knew more about the financial side of things and wonder whether I will ever grasp even the basics or anything more than watching things go up and down day in and day out. That is an oversimplification to be sure but when I hear and see things about currency devaluations and derivatives it confuses me and at the same time challenges me to better understand what it all means. I want to be in the trenches with the big boys; in the trading pits surrounded by ticker tape and pencil necked geeks with asian surnames. That's not a slight against Asians; it is a truism that they are better equipped and better educated in the ways of such things so who do you want on your team at the end of the day? That, my friend, is a rhetorical question. And where do you start to get the kind of education you need to do battle in the pits? Soon, I will have the kind of time I need to answer such questions so not to worry. I will go into the fray with my eyes wide open and that will be that. I can only hope that this will all be for the better but I think time will be the final judge. And so it goes. Hopefully.
People are filing into this place at a pretty good clip now as the hour gets closer to 8. The village is waking up I guess. Where are all the farmers? The fisherman? The breakfast cooks? The beauticians? And, where are all the fucking Vietnamese nail buffers? I may be two cups of coffee into my morning before I start seeing them. I'm wondering about this trail we're supposed to be riding on today too. Is it too long? Is it long enough? Is it too busy? Does it overlook anything of interest? Will I get a flat tire? Stay positive, Johnny. The day is long and it is all in front of you. Better than that, and honest to god let's get with the program, your week is ahead of you. You have no meetings and no conference calls. No taking your laptop into the nearest huddle room to catch a tier two anything. I love the people but the process is tedious. So, I put all of that behind me this week and I get to think about things I want to think about. World hunger; trading derivatives; world markets; books I have but haven't yet read; music that hasn't been written; Paths that haven't been travelled; fishing spots that haven't been fished; am I forgetting anything?
This is such a nice little spot. I'm seated at a window table, one of two in this place, and I'm left wondering when Starbucks is coming to town and just how long this place will stay in business once that happens. Looking out over the town from my seat, the fog is burning off slowly revealing more and more of the distant pastures with every sip of my coffee. I think all of the fog may yet burn off and it could be a steamy day. That's okay, right? I mean, does it really matter? I'm not one to obsess about such things when alternatives abound. There are 81 restaurants in Stowe. Who knew. Just walking to this coffee shop I think I passed 5 of them. Where the fuck are all the rest? Turns out we ate at one of the best last night. Oh, and you're a bloody restaurant critic now, are you? All I would say is that while we had a moments hesitation when we were told that they couldn't accommodate us without a reservation we got over ourselves fairly quickly and took a seat at the mahogany horseshoe shaped bar where we decided that it was someplace we could probably eat and be okay with it.
I ordered steamed mussels in some kind of cream sauce served with a hot roll and topped with some kind of gritty concoction which is hard to describe but was quite good. Sometimes you're just thankful that food that should be served hot is served as advertised and this was. The bar itself was in the basement of a building in downtown Stowe but looked like it had been a bar for well over a hundred years and maybe more. Seating and spacing was not generous by any stretch of the imagination but that may have been part and parcel the pubs allure. It was a small space and you couldn't navigate the aisles without turning one or more parts of your body to the side or stopping altogether to let someone to pass. I order a stir fry as well and hoped for less rice and or pasta and more vegetables. The serving size was surprisingly small but sufficient nonetheless and I was satisfied that I had ordered the right dish. Nancy ordered shrimp tacos and the shrimp were halved and braised on one side and very flavorful. I'm not a big fan of fish, shrimp, or other types of tacos but I had one shrimp off her plate and took what she didn't eat back to the hotel for a snack later that evening. We both ordered drinks and were both fairly intoxicated and unsteady on our feet after having just one beverage. As we got up to leave, the stairs leading up and out of the place seemed steeper than we remembered them coming in. Thank god for handrails.
I've seen and heard a few cars going through town that sported very loud mufflers. Either the rules around here when it comes to this sort of thing are extremely lax or there are more than a few vehicles that will more than likely not pass inspection when the time comes. And the locals? An earthy bunch to be sure. You can tell by the way they dress. Birkenstocks and bell bottoms. And the music? It's a throw back from the 70's wherever you go. Were it not for certain things in and about town I would say that this is a town that has been forgotten by time. Don't get me wrong. I like Creedence Clearwater, Led Zeppelin, and others from back in the 70's. And this watering hole, as I understand it, is an extremely popular place to frequent especially in the winter. It is a veritable skiers paradise and most of the growth over the last number of years has been due to that interest. Not entirely a bad thing I suppose. It is, no doubt, a small price to pay in order to survive the winter months in this mountain enclave.
I don't know that we'll be getting our bike ride in today due to the rain. It's not raining hard but it is raining so Nancy may not want to go. I would go but certainly not if it starts raining any harder than it is now. I'm looking out the window here at the cafe and see umbrellas and windshield wipers so that should tell you something. In a way, taking biking off the table frees up time from our schedule to do other things before we check out so I think I'm ok with the rain. I might like to stay here at my little table near the window and put a bit more down on "paper." Maybe not. Maybe I just want to sit down and have a leisurely breakfast, an omelet or something. Maybe I just want to sip my coffee rather than chugging it just to move the day along. Vacations mean slowing down, not speeding up. When your destination is the town that time forgot you should take note and live in the moment no matter how long that moment takes.
It was good that we took the car last night and drove on the highway leading out of town in an effort to find a place to have dinner. It felt good to be in the car again for some odd reason. It felt good to roll down the windows and let the air circulate around us cooling things down and putting a stop to the humidity that was ever present but not overly oppressive. It just kind of wears you down so better to change things up and that is what we did. I think Nancy was a little tired from all of her kicking around town and as much as she enjoyed doing what she was doing it was good for her to change it up as well. We pulled in to a parking lot at a restaurant called "The Bench" where we got the last parking spot. We took that as a good sign. The more popular the place, the better the food and drink, the livelier the atmosphere, the better. Right?
That turned out to be true for the most part. The place was spacious and as bustling as the parking situation suggested and we were promptly seated at a pleasant table in a corner where the light was nice, the view was good from at least one of the seats (Nancy's), and our waitress was efficient but not overly self effacing. It was one of those places built around a wood burning oven and most but not all items on the menu were pizza related. Or, do they call it flatbread these days. I ordered the mussels and they too were cooked in the oven. The mussels were served in a small cast iron skillet and came steeped in a tomato based broth that reminded me a little bit of spaghetti sauce. While that didn't thrill me I could have just as easily had the sauce on pasta and would have found that to be acceptable meal. There were just enough mussels to satisfy me before the main course was served so I was happy, how do they say, as a clam. Nancy did not get an appetizer and she is not a fan of mussels so sharing was not necessary. We sipped our soda waters till the entrees were served and had a jolly good time taking in the sights and enjoying our time together. When the salads arrived, hers topped with chicken and mine with ahi tuna, we busied ourselves with the task at hand. All in all, a decent meal with only a minor indiscretion here and there which we happily ignored. Who serves salads without tomatoes?
We told Evan that we might be coming home a day earlier when talking to him on the phone last night. He was not pleased. We were just jawboning about going to Burlington or not going to Burlington depending on the weather and that was one of the options. Who wants to go to Burlington if the rain keeps us from enjoying the sights and sounds of one of our favorite destinations? Nancy was certainly not deterred and as I sit here this morning I'm thinking as well that rain or no rain going to Burlington was not a bad idea. We're taking this trip as a dry run to a larger trip coming soon so we might as well take advantage of the opportunity. Besides, what would we be doing at home in the rain that we can't do just as easily in Burlington?
One of the comments we saw in trip advisor, as it relates to this watering hole of a town, is that flies are a problem. Not sure what that is all about but I can tell you firsthand that we've seen them here and about town from the moment we stepped into town. We've not stayed at outdoor cafes just to avoid them. Even here at the cafe, at the early hour of 7, I was seated for no more than a minute when I had a little visitor. Just go away! We're not talking about those big bad boys or even green heads whose bites can stop you in your tracks. These are common, everyday, houseflies or so it seems. Maybe they are the kinds of flies that morph out of decay and hint of morbidity and death. A harbinger of things to come. If we're seeing them it may well be too late for us. All we can do is swat them away and hope that wherever we go that they do not follow. They are pesky little fucks so worth mentioning. Not that anyone cares or can do anything about it.
I can hear people ordering at the counter, children crying out for their parents attention, the clatter of cups and the shuffling of feet, the jostling of chairs, and the constant but pleasant banter offered by the staff as their patrons file in and out of the cafe. The door behinds me opens and closes quietly but with a telltale creek probably not worthy of someones attention. My nose is squarely to the grindstone and my head is buzzing with thoughts that may or may not ever become clear enough to get down for posterity. There is a small child seated at a nearby table. She is cute as a button and she sits quietly. Whether she is amused, bewildered, astonished, or none of those things I'll never know. She is caught up in the moment as perhaps any other child her age and that may be for the better. Her parents, I'm sure thankfully, need not cajole, mollify, or even pay attention to her in her moment of peace. Her sweet unintelligible voice fills the air from time to time reminding her caretakers that she occupies space in the universe just as they do and that she is just as if not more important than they are. She is the future after all and that has become lost in the momentous rhythms of their collective family existence. They would do well to pay her the attention she deserves for chances like this are fleeting at best. There will, no doubt, be others but none as opportune as this. Just ask her, she'll tell you.
My coffee is getting cold but that is not unexpected so I keep putting one foot in front of the other until I don't or can't. I'm wanting all of the "hands up,don't shoot" crowd in Ferguson to go away or get locked up. Grievances my ass. Get a fucking job and get off the streets. If you don't obey the cops then you go to jail. It's as simple as that. And will someone please tell Obama that the Iran deal is off the table and there will be no deal? That asshole can't get out of office fast enough for me. And yes, we want to defund Planned Parenthood and sanctuary cities since there is a rule of law and without a rule of law we're doomed as a society. Obama's reign has given rise to candidates like Trump who are no more suited to sit in the White House than its present occupant. I was awake at 4 this morning reading about Governor Mike Pence who signed a bill into law requiring that aborted fetuses deserve to be treated with dignity and respect and will forthwith be either buried or cremated once aborted. They will no longer be sold for their body parts or washed down drains by the Planned Parenthoods of the world. If you can't outlaw the very act of abortion you can at the very least provide a modicum of dignity and respect for its victims. This very subject is saddening and the rain outside is falling with greater intensity now making the world outside my own little sanctuary here in the coffee shop seem dark and foreboding.
Burlington is everything we thought it would be and more. We were here many years ago but some things never change. It is a beautiful little town that sits on the edge of Lake Champlain and is by and large a college town. Maybe tourism comes in a close second. Not sure. We hemmed and we hawed before making our way north and hour or so from Stowe due to the weather but those fears were largely allayed when the rain stopped and the skies cleared by the time we arrived in town. We knew a couple of things. We knew we wanted to grab a bite to eat and we knew we wanted to get out of the car and walk around town a bit if for no other reason than to get reacquainted with an old haunt. Well, a haunt in the sense that it was a favorite destination even though we've only been there but a handful of times. On one occasion, in fact, we drove several hours north to Burlington so we could catch a ferry to New York where we then traveled south until we ended up in Lake George. Talk about haunts. Someone recently referred to Lake George as my happy place. I had to think about that for a moment but it is, in fact, true. It also happens to be where I grew up.
We also knew we wanted to see the movie or documentary of Amy Winehouse's life so we set sail on that particular course. We made the mistake of not making hotel reservations in town so had to travel south a few miles before we could find what we considered to be suitable accommodations. You would be surprised at how flexible your requirements become when the sun sets and you are tired after a long day of activities. Had it not been for plans we made to see the movie later that evening, and our desire to see the documentary after blowing off a number of opportunities back in New Hampshire, we might well have driven the 3-4 hours it was going to take to get back home. I was up to the drive and getting a little tired of all of the nonsense we ran into while looking for a place for the night. How is it that every time we got on the phone with someone to ask about reservations we ended up talking a person in Southeast Asia who couldn't understand us when said the word "Burlington." That's "B" as in boy. They were quite clear about there being no availability so that was a good thing. Time to get off the phone and continue our search. Thanks for nothing.
We had lunch at Mirabelle's in Burlington. Maybe I order chef salads because of the variability in how they are assembled. Maybe I like them because they combine salad with a bunch of other things that pass for protein and protein is a good thing. Only four dressings on the menu? What is that all about? I opted for the sesame ginger because everything else seem to have a cream base and I was wanting to do without something creamy and glutenous. The cafe was lively with families, couples, students, professors and the like. There were a couple of fuddy duddies sitting within earshot of us reading their students papers off their cell phones and comparing notes as though they were the only patrons in the place. A big mistake in my humble opinion. What if I recognized my son's writing and heard them saying nasty things about his writing style or, worse yet, his ability to complete a sentence using the english language. How intolerant would I be? Would I let on that I thought he was a nitwit and that commenting on someone's writing in a public place was an asinine thing to do? Who knows.
Nancy, for whatever reason, had a more resilient memory of the things we did back in Burlington back in the day. She kept asking me if I remembered this or remembered that and I kept drawing blanks. Some things I remembered very well but other things not so much. I was a little surprised at the things she remembered and wondered if I should have retained the same memories or were these things she experienced and I did not? Worse yet, were these things that the two of us experienced and now only one of us remembers? I do think that there is such a thing as retaining things that have no value and I would dismiss that as time not well spent. I would go so far as to say that I would make an extra effort to not do that and would encourage anyone who is willing to listen to do the same thing. Maybe I should take more pictures and I could refer to them under the cover of darkness the next time she asks down the road. I thought for a moment that I might make something up just to stump her so I wasn't the only one experiencing pre-alzheimers. Thank god for GPS is all I have to say. What I forget, it remembers. Or, it figures it out while I'm still scratching my chinny-chin-chin.
I was so trying to be good last night when we waltzed into the city market after the show around 10:30 and for the most part I succeeded. I wanted to avoid eating garbage before bedtime but thought that something, a small something, a snack of miniscule proportions might be just what the doctor ordered. The place was a busy even at the late hour of 10:30 and I went with the hustle bustle and allowed it take me where it would until I found myself in a good place. I avoided the pastries, the quick meals packaged for folks on the go, the ten-piece sushi dishes that would have been fine were it not for the rice that I wanted to avoid, and frozen food section which was for people more patient than I and with infinitely more time on their hands.
It was raining quite hard when we left the theater but it had stopped by the time we reached the market that was close by. I managed to have a slightly soggy shirt which quickly chilled when I entered the market. I felt almost hypothermic and sought out the warm exhaust emanating from one or more of the refrigeration chests where I took refuge for seconds at a time while considering my next move. Nancy was well on her way to other areas in the store and had left me to my own devices which was fine. I just needed to get over myself and get on with the task at hand. My final selections were reasonable ones. I grabbed a small take-out container of both hummus and egg salad and consumed both in section of the store set aside for folks wanting to have a bite to eat before leaving the store. I bought a container of peanut butter to take home and thought long and hard about where I might be keeping it once at home given Evan's peanut allergy.
I am preoccupied this vacation with all things market related. We're talking about the financial markets and not food markets for a change. Two of my favorite subjects truth be told. I understand the underpinnings of neither particularly well but both are all consuming and of intense interest to me. I wish I knew more about the financial side of things and wonder whether I will ever grasp even the basics or anything more than watching things go up and down day in and day out. That is an oversimplification to be sure but when I hear and see things about currency devaluations and derivatives it confuses me and at the same time challenges me to better understand what it all means. I want to be in the trenches with the big boys; in the trading pits surrounded by ticker tape and pencil necked geeks with asian surnames. That's not a slight against Asians; it is a truism that they are better equipped and better educated in the ways of such things so who do you want on your team at the end of the day? That, my friend, is a rhetorical question. And where do you start to get the kind of education you need to do battle in the pits? Soon, I will have the kind of time I need to answer such questions so not to worry. I will go into the fray with my eyes wide open and that will be that. I can only hope that this will all be for the better but I think time will be the final judge. And so it goes. Hopefully.