Laurel Hill Cemetery – Fitchburg MA

The Laurel Hill Cemetery was one of those “destined to be” sort of places. We were winding our way from the abandoned power plant to the Bancroft Castle when the GPS decided to take us down an odd route that happened to go directly by an oddly situated cemetery. The cemetery was on a very steep hill, mostly hidden from sight. It was worth a looksee so up we went!

This was Fitchburg so you never know what you’re going to find… it was a toss of the coin whether or not we’d find a terrific place for a drug deal or a beautiful local secret. Luckily it was the latter. We even met two women up there who were archiving the stones. It had taken them eight years of twice weekly trips to archive several thousand stones and they were maybe two thirds done. They had told us this place was virtually abandoned until recent efforts to clean it up and now people were coming up here to party and ruining things. Annoying. The view from the top was breath taking. From the edge of the hill you could see the older part of the cemetery sprawled out below with a stunning overlook of the city of Fitchburg, even a mountain in the background. Hey if I were to die and be forced to stare at one view for the rest of eternity I can’t say I’d have many complaints about this one. It showed Fitchburg nestled between trees looking soooo…. innocent. And so much like New England. It was a very happy discovery! And one which will have to be revisited when the trees turn color in the fall.

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July 26, 2017 0

Graceland, Nashville, & Memphis

I went to Memphis because I’d heard of it and it was in a state I hadn’t yet explored. I had no idea what was there but someone suggested I go see Graceland. OK. So I parked at a little strip mall right next to Graceland and spared myself $10 parking. Oddly enough I was the only one smart enough to figure this one out. I perused the stores… ELVIS ELVIS ELVIS! And nothing but. So much tacky and garish things… I wandered over to Graceland a few yards away. This place was by far the honkiest place I’ve ever been and likely will ever be, at least I damn well hope so. People swarmed the place and paid $34 a person to see Elvis’ mansion and airplane. Seventy year old women with Elvis tatooes teetered in and out of the gift shops clutching bags filled with glitter and shot glasses. I stared at the postcards… Young Elvis, old Elvis, civilian Elvis, military Elvis, thin Elvis, puffy Elvis, Elvis in normal clothes, Elvis giving a young Elton John some fashion hinters, Elvis, Elvis, Elvis!

I can’t say I was ever that fond of Elvis. Why was I here again? Better yet why is the blasphemous Harley shop down the street listening to Cher? I bought a few postcards, if only so I could write indecent things on them…

While I was looking at the postcards I noticed one said “Beale Street, Home of the Blues!” I insisted on going there to even the honkiness out a bit. So I went to Beale Street, which wasn’t terribly far away, and I noticed immediately it beat Graceland hardcore. There was a voodoo/headshop here, BB King’s Blues Club, lots of places to eat, and music notes like the Hollywood stars lining the sidewalk with notable Bluesmen (and a couple of women.) I took a photo of BB King’s note, and was taken inside by a barker who offered to show me Lucille. So I went in.. and looked at one of four replicas of Lucille. He told me Lucille was BB King’s guitar which he auctioned off for charity, but which 4 replicas were made of. It was signed by all sorts of interesting people and the guy told us how Lucille got her name. Apparently BB King had been in a bar fire. He got out of the burning building only to dive back into it to save his guitar. Later he found out the fire started when two men were fighting over a woman. One smashed open a bottle of booze and threw a match to it. The woman’s name was Lucille and if Lucille was good enough to fight over than that was the perfect name for the guitar!

I had a soda and chatted up the bar tender for awhile. Being a hot day with little people in here he seemed happy to talk. He’d done a number of interesting travels in his own day and I compared notes. I gave him a few ideas of where to go next. I left soon after to catch the parking meter. All and all it was a fun street with friendly down to earth people. Much better than Graceland. Less creepy too. A lot less creepy. Especially the voodoo shops. I’ll take those over eighty year women in skin tight leopard spots any day.

After Memphis I went to Nashville… why? Because. I went to find the Grand Ole Opry, again just to say I’ve been there as country music is yet another thing I’m not fond of (for the most part – a little Cash is always good though…) I found out it was currently being swallowed by a shopping mall that was being built and for the most part was gated and fenced off. The rest was blocked by trees. Whatever. I left not too broken hearted.

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 14, 2011 0

Chicago

Chicago was a happy surprise. I had heard from several people who’d been there that it didn’t have much to offer, it was just a city. Of course there were museums, one containing the ever-controversial Sue the T-rex, but those all were pricey. I spent an ungodly amount of time trying to find a parking garage with a high enough allowance to let the Jeep and it’s on-roof luggage through, and which had its prices listed. All of them said something like $5 for the first 15 minutes! Or Early Bird Special! But none had their actual prices listed.

So I drove around and around and everyone seemed to be frowning. I figured, “Great, another one of those cities…” I finally settled in the first garage I initially saw after fighting the cab drivers ferociously. They all seemed to be angry old men waving their fists and cursing even though by far they were the ones causing the problems parking in the turning lanes and trying to pass people where they just were not legally allowed. I hadn’t seen drivers this bad since California…

I ended up walking to Millennium Park first. It was supposed to be a sculpture garden in the middle of the city, which is cool, but I wasn’t expecting much of it. The first thing I saw was two huge rectangles spewing water down their sides and women with their children lined up in bathing suits and swimming trunks to play in the massive water puddle the display created. The kids made swimming motions flopped on their bellies in the two inches of water and teenagers shoved each other in it to get their companions soaked. Everyone here was happy for the respite and I was suddenly joyous watching everyone too. The park also offered shade in many parks and there was a music festival going on so in every corner there was someone else playing something else. I was really enjoying myself here. It seems in every city I go to I find all that’s good in humanity within the artistic districts. Wherever there is art, there is hope.

From the Park I made my way down State street as I thought it was their main shopping road. I found a little Chicago gift shop. The place was absolutely tiny and packed with people. Someone accidentally broke a shot glass on the floor and everyone in the shop froze and looked up for an awkward 30 seconds. It was if everyone was expecting someone to come out with a tommy gun for killing a poor shot glass. Finally a guy came around with a broom and a pan and said it was OK. A woman broke the silence as well exclaiming, “Thank God it wasn’t one of our kids!”

I asked the people here where to get a good deep dish pizza and they told me that about a block away there was a place called Giordano’s. I was very hungry so I went up there. It was a nice little restaurant and had pizzas on its menu with the number of suggested people they could feed. The smallest, the ten inch, said it served one to two people. I thought this was a misestimation. Still when the pizza came out I was a bit shocked. I ate one piece and was STUFFED… however I paid $30 for this thing and its bad to be wasteful… I attempted a second slice, got halfway through and felt like I was going to ralph it back up. I couldn’t take anymore! So one and a half slices of pizza went uneaten. “Serves one to two people?! That is so not right! Should really say serves one to two Americans…”

After the pizza I took my bloated achy belly for yet another walk, this time ending up at a little artsy store called Arts and Artists. I asked the woman there were the actual main shopping street was and she was sweet enough to lead us to the window and point it out. So we walked across the bridge, took some pretty photos there, and entered a much different looking part of town. The buildings here were ornately decorated and absolutely beautiful. We ended up browsing through Utrecht, an art supply store I went into pretty much because of its business title which is a town in Holland. They had some really nice handmade papers and neat supplies. If only..

The next place I went into was a neat surprise. I walked into this place that said it was an art gallery but it was the size of a walk-in closet. A man was there saying this was just the entrance, that the rest of the gallery was on the fourth floor. He escorted me to the elevator and pushed 4. I was a bit nervous, having no idea what just happened really. I entered into one of the largest art galleries in the country. It was isolated from a mall that took up the rest of the building and it had some of the most exquisite art I could have possibly hoped for. There were blown glass flower shaped bowls for a good 15 grand. There were portraits, still lifes, scenery, and abstract paintings. I kept picking the same pieces until I absolutely fell for this one artist, who did not sign his or her work. There were maybe ten painting, all in black, orange, and a few other dull colors, which were swirled and allowed to drip like they were melting. It looked cosmic and absolutely amazing. These weren’t on the wall, carefully labeled with artist and price. These painting were stacked one against another on the floor leaning against the wall. They were unsigned and had no price tag. I had no idea how the most beautiful pieces could be treated in such a way. I wanted to know more but what did it matter? I knew I couldn’t afford it whatever it was… I asked the woman painting up at the top of the gallery about them but she was clueless and directed us towards sales. I don’t think she understood much English. Still I left that place feeling so peaceful and intellectually fulfilled.

I eventually walked back to the Jeep, by this time feeling sooo uncomfortable from the pizza and walking. I had walked so much I was feeling sore! As I got to the Jeep I hopped in only to realize I had to pay the ticket first at the little office before they’d let me out. This was only after I was unable to find an exit to the place and ended up on too high a level for the tall roof compartment. SCRATCH, I hit the ceiling. From here I had to drive the Jeep in reverse, hoping to god that no other cars would come by to screw up the process, until two levels down I found a two-way spot to exit! Finally! Always nice to start and end every city visit with something stupid and stressful…

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 12, 2011 0

San Francisco California

After seeing all the other Californian cities before San Francisco I was a bit desensitized. Still, San Francisco was historically more interesting than the other cities, It was no LA that’s for sure! It’s quiet, its cute, and its full of 90 degree hills, it’s lovable in a 3-D sort of way.

Though I do know various tidbits of San Fransisco history I wasn’t really sure where to go myself. I knew I wanted to check out the Haight and go down Lombard street just to be the ultimate geeky tourist. I headed towards Haight-Ashbury, the former and apparently now reestablished hippie mecca. Had one of those bizarre moments when I knew I was getting near because I recognized one of the houses. Took me a couple of hours to figure out why. I think I recognized it from some old news footage in Tom Brockaw’s (spelling?) 1968 documentary. This is one of the handful of documentaries I play whenever its on, which is often…

Anyway, I knew when I hit the Haight. There was a sudden burst of psychedelic colors washing out over the windows and buildings. Murals were everywhere. So was tie-dye T-shirt shops as well as a lot of other adorable little fashion outlets. When I initially parked I wasn’t sure if I could because there was a sign on the meter that said something about construction and no parking. there was a burly hippie dude in the front of a music store and when asked if I could park here he said nothing, just approached the meter, ripped off the sign, threw it in a nearby trashcan and announced, “Is now!”

I walked into the music store. It had beautiful instruments but having no musical inclinations I had no idea about any of them. I did hit a few record stores as well which had an absolutely delicious selection of things, the most variety I’d ever seen. I didn’t look too close. I probably would have bought half the store if I could.

I stopped in at one of the artsy looking stores. There were wood carvings here that blew my mind. One piece of wood carved into two tangoing dinosaurs with exquisite detail was the first thing I saw. The second thing was an entire wall, including a bedframe with cabinets, all a conglomerate of tiny carvings. It was amazingly 3-D. Of course there was a big wooden Buddha people had left coins on and a Ganesh I couldn’t help but petting. He’s the Hindu protector of travelers after all…

Another interesting store I stopped by was some sort of freakish antiques and bad taxidermy shop. It had not just jackalopes but a squirrel riding a bunny rodeo style, several finch headed necklaces, squirrels dressed up as dolls, a fancy rat poised over a trap, and other very badly taxidermied little things that just looked dried up, twisted, and weird. If animals weren’t your thing they also had a shrunken head and the tiny severed foot of a Chinese woman from back in the days when binding was practiced. Oh and there was also a pickled tattoo of some sort… and funny enough a book about the Mutter Museum. Upstairs was a gallery of scary art and a deep purple embossed velvet child-sized casket, very Victorian looking.

All and all I left the Haight happy, happy enough to take a crack at Lombard street, which by the way is a one way street, and which our navigation at first brought us to the wrong side of. Another foil in planning when I got back to Lombard I drove it for quite awhile without seeing the characteristic eight hairpin turns lined up one after another. Back to the phone. It told me Lombard street’s crooked section was only one block and it told me where so off I went. When I first saw what the Jeep was in for I patted it’s dash and told it I was sorry. It groaned in return but made it just fine past all the turns! No one else was keeping entertained with this street as I was and the pedestrians seemed to think the Jeep was too fat for such a stunt, they looked on with an expression of delighted horror. After this three small cars appeared and followed suit.

Today was a good day for a little bit of ocean fun so I headed to Pier 37. I didn’t know what it was but it was listed as a tourist destination in the brochure I got from the Salinas campground. As it turns out Pier 37 it is a boardwalk full of fried foods, ice cream, little tourist shops, corny entertainment, street performers, and restaurants. I watched some break dancing and perused some magnet shops before making my way to the actual pier where rumor had it that there were seals. I wasn’t disappointed. There was a group of fat seals all sitting on the docks barking at each other and lazily basking in the sun. It was a nice end to this little trip to the sea front.

After leaving Pier 37 it was decided that the Full House house should be found for the appropriate shits and giggles. I looked it up and in another dorky excursion checked it out, snapping one photo to the complete befuddlement of the car behind us.

It was after this I just happened to stumble across an amazing surprise called the Fine Arts Lagoon. When I read the sign I thought of an art gallery in front of a big black body of water, possibly filled with monsters. It was nothing like that. Instead it was an enormous structure of Greek columns nestled aside a good sized lagoon, absolutely filled with red-eared sliders and big scary carp. Ducks also lined the shores and one swan watched me walk by, politely not beating me to death with its wings, as swans are prone to do. This place was gorgeous and serene, something I had never heard of, yet it was such a treasure! I walked all the way around the lagoon and through the columns, decorated with stunning Greco-Roman styled ornamentation including large vases and absolutely perfect figures of women. We read the signs, and found out this place was built in the 20’s as both a wildlife refuge and a testimonial to art itself. I had a couple Asian women take a photo in front of it.

Finally I decided to go to Golden Gate Park to get a photo in front of the Golden Gate bridge. I found another Asian family to take the photo. I was asked to get up on the wall but I yelled, through the phenomenal sound of gusting wind, “I can’t! My skirt is blowing everywhere!” This made the two Asian women in the background giggle to each other. I am glad I amused someone… I was having a Hell of a time with my ankle length, very light weight skirt. I was holding it in bunches with both hands to keep it down and I was failing. I was happy to be back in the Jeep.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

June 14, 2011 0

Las Vegas – Nevada

Las Vegas is the birth of human depravity, or at least the continuation of such. But you know… when in Rome, might as well fiddle while it burns. Wait, I think I got that one wrong… anyway!

The place was as to be expected, there were tacky glitzy casinos galore, and in between them there were tattoo parlors, strip joints, wedding chapels, and pawn shops. Whatever. I could care less. Though there was one place that I thought would be funny to go… the pawn shop… but not any pawn shop, the pawn shop on Pawn Stars. I had no idea the place was so tiny! And packed! Half the store had been turned into a souvenir shop for people who watch the show. There were far more people buying T-shirts than jewelry. There wasn’t much here, some old guns, a few sabers, lots of jewelry, a few odd things here and there. I left sans magnet. Too embarrassing…

I took some photos of the strip. I stopped by the world’s largest gift shop and got a magnet. The cashier was the most adorable four and a half foot tall elderly woman I have ever seen. She wore HUGE glasses, smiled, and spoke with a very bronzy voice. I thought that was great… probably the only thing here I thought was the bees knees… the rest of the time was spent dodging crazed drivers who clearly lost a ton of cash gambling and were bent on taking that out on… the Jeep! Damn that unlucky Jeep! How dare it make them lose!

On a side note, I saw a big bulletin board advertising a concert for Vanilla Ice. Really? I mean I know Vegas is where old singing stars tend to go to die but Vanilla Ice? I kind of figured he’d be living under a rock or calling himself John Smith or something….

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

June 7, 2011 0

Sedona Arizona

After driving through the desert for God knows how many days I were delighted when I once again came back to civilization. Sedona was adorable. It was a little artistic hippie community in the middle of gorgeous scenery of red rock mountains and canyons. Here I found galleries, fancy cafés, a chocolate shop, a place that just sold various caramel apple combinations, lots of very affordable T-shirt and dress shops, and too many little galleries and gift shops to count, all displaying locally made creations, some pretty out there. There were creatures made out of welded scrap metal, horses and bunnies made convincingly out of chicken wire, plenty of pottery, blown glass, bric-a-bracs, and anything you could have possibly wanted. This place made me very happy, it filled me with a sort of joyful warmth.

Every so often I’d come across a statue of a peccary and its baby and each time it was painted another crazy psychedelic scheme of colors. There were also statues of horses and old western figures and a place where some old western stars had left their handprints. I didn’t know who any of them were but that’s OK, I don’t think I have ever watched a whole Western from beginning to end without falling asleep anyway. In any event the people were friendly, everyone was laid back, there were pink jeep tours and helicopter rides going on to see the local canyons. It was all very nice. Even the buildings were unique, two story pueblos that went all the way down the street. The only way you could to the second floor was taking the stairs at the end of each street. It was very neat. They even had a little rock and fossil shop that sparked the interest in the nerd in me. A $12,000 trilobite fossil made my mouth water and my eyes glass over.

June 2, 2011 0

Branson Missouri

You know how much of a sucker I am for “World’s Largest Whatevers.” Today it was World’s Largest Banjo because why not? When in Rome (or Missouri…)

So I ended up, for some odd reason, driving through Branson Missouri. It was such a weird thing, like driving through the Twilight Zone. I couldn’t tell what was reality anymore. On every nook and cranny of the city there was some sort of fantasy tourist trap… Go golfing with pirates! Go to an indoor water park! Elvis, Elvis, Elvis, oh my god, look! More Elvis! What was up with all the Elvis stuff? And the Old West mock-ups? And the Indiana Jones stuff? And the themed restaurants? This place was creepy, and didn’t have that many people in it. It was strange. The amusement park stood still, the two outdoor water parks stood dry. It was just creepy. “Where am I? Did I just re-enter the 80’s?” I never did find that damn Banjo…

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

May 27, 2011 0

New Orleans

Good old New Orleans, how could I forget America’s home to Voodoo, ghost tours, beloved vampire writers, and Mardi Gras? I decided to start my little journey by heading towards the famous French Quarters, a magical place where diaper-wearing horses pull carts around the streets. No no, I ended up parking comfortably near the French Quarter for $14 and I walked around. I was in search of a skirt… you know one of those airy ankle-length ones that they apparently don’t sell in the South… and to be quite frank they don’t sell skirts period down here. Whhhy?! It’s so frickin’ hot you’d think everyone would be wearing them! I would settle for an ankle length sundress of course but all the ones here went to your knees and were made of hot materials. It made no sense. I weaved in out of Voodoo shops as a reward for sticking it out and trying to find a skirt, a abysmal activity if there ever were one. Skulls abounded.

I stopped wherever it looked interesting, or just air conditioned in the case of the Magaritaville, apparently a whole parrothead-inspired margarita-flinging bar. I only stayed in its stoop for a few minutes so I could go on. In the meantime mules and horses clacked by with their tourist carriages telling of pirates and voodoo priestesses. I passed by the Voodoo priestesses’ bar and her little voodoo shop. I may have gone in there if a bunch of locals weren’t in the stoop debating something.

After I walked around the main part of the French Quarters I meandered up to Bourbon Street for shits and giggles, figured it’d be interesting people watching if nothing else. That was interesting to say the least! The first thing I stumbled upon was a seedy cabaret with a barker out front. I looked him dead in the eye to see if he’d still make his pitch and laughed when at first hesitated but then actually did! I walked by, obviously. I had no idea the States even had cabarets. Seems such an odd thing to me, bet you they probably named it such to make it sound more interesting than it actually was. In any event I walked past a lot of little strip joints and whatnot, a great deal of them with cutesy little names like The Cat’s Meow. I passed by pubs, bars, and other liquor friendly little nooks, some reading, “two drink minimum,” which seemed more than a tad bit odd. Apparently there was no room for responsible drivers here.

It was a scalding hot day and I had to take time out to lather myself up with sun screen in a public courtyard. I was melting. I ended up back in the French Market scouring the area for a cold non-alcoholic drink when in the spirit of trying new things I also bought a praline. Good thing I only bought one… it was really rather sweet, to a fault. Will not be trying that again.

I had a lot of fun just wandering around. The streets weren’t that busy, the people were friendly, and there was a lemon piper playing classic jazz on sax down at the piers. Every time a dollar was donated this hilarious musician would holler, “Thanks big guy! Have a great day!” before going right back to the same note he left off on. I didn’t come by anyone with a thick New Orleans accent either, which was fortunate as that’s probably the only US accent even I can’t translate.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

May 25, 2011 0