Archive for the ‘regional travel’Category

Snowy Train Stations

After sleeping at Brittany’s house, I wonder home to Jersey City on so many different trains. The snowfall on the Gravers station made a lovely moment for me, the lone awaiting passenger, to snap a few photos. It’s a shame that station house has been closed and mothballed, it’s a great piece of architecture.

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

30

01 2010

Nick and Karen’s Wedding

Years after Nick and I were flatmates at that quirky art school in the south of England, I attend his wedding. Nick and Karen met in Boston, and although they’ve since moved to California, they returned to their home city for the nuptial ceremonials.

For the second night in a row, Boston is blanketed in snow. We brave the ice and snow, to find ourselves at the lusty Omni Parker House, where we are subsequently stuffed with food and treated to a predictable playlist that still has an undeniable power to motivate us to butt-shaking.

All in all, a lovely time.

And for no reason, here’s a photo of me, Nick, and Hugh in London on our final night together in London.

Scott, Hugh, and Nick

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

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02

01 2010

Men in Diners

Is there anything so purely and awesomely bizarre as a true old-fashioned diner? You know, the pre-fab 1930s metal blobs that look like art deco spacecrafts with bad 60s formica. Pastel counters and faux-leather booths are standard, as is the colourful staff. Walk through those doors and suddenly you’re in a time warp — welcome to an by-gone era. And sometimes, you’ll find yourself in Greece, but not this time.

On the way home from Atlantic City, Charlie, Pete, and I desired nothing but a hearty breakfast and bitter coffee. We found it.

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

None of the staff are pictured here, but I should make a note that just like every diner, there is the one super-hot 19-year-old waitress who you fear will never make it out of that crazy place and in 20, 30, 40 years will become just like the other gals. With that same old haircut and make-up. I always want to grab her by the arm and be like “come with me to New York!”, but of course, I don’t have shit going on here, so unless she feels like doing my laundry, I’m in no position to offer a lifeline. Ok, that was random.

19

07 2009

What happens in Atlantic City …

Apparently, there is a provision of the Bro Code that stipulates how we are forbidden from taking photos during a bachelor party. It’s not without good reason — photographs are evidence, and generally we’d like to keep [incriminating] evidence from our wives (and wives-to-be). But I don’t think Jay, or Stephanie, will mind these shots — a collection of candid moments from our hotel stay, dinner, bar hopping, and the transits in between.

But obviously we humble few aren’t the only ones who agree that photography isn’t a good idea — one of the oddly notable spots we visited required everyone to coat-check his phone and/or camera. So whatever happened in those hours is lost to history.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, yes, Atlantic City is in fact a shithole. In the absence of gambling, we may have been in Rahway or Camden, or any other less-than-shiny Jersey town.

Highlights of the night include random schmoozing with other bachelor/ette parties, getting really drunk, laughter at one another’s expenses, Bruce Fulda impressions, pointing out the enduring knuckleheadedness of Pete Connolly, slapping those with unfortunate suntans, eating bad Italian food, and the open expression of totally-hetero, manly, brotherly affection.

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071801.flv width=300 height=235 /]
A summary of events.

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

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18

07 2009

KATG1000, part III

The first order of business on Sunday was to tidy up the house and conceal the craziness of the previous night. I am still amazed how dirty a kitchen can become in just two days. Seriously. Amazed. I mean, how did that black liquid get all over the inside of the freezer?

And lord, so many cans.

Predictably, after two nights of partying (super partying), the gang was pretty knackered. We slept in, and shuffled over to the resort’s Club House for a fancy pants brunch worthy of the whitest of white people, who play golf. ie, not me.

But even in soberness our rabble can have a laugh. The sunglasses may soothe the harshness of a hangover, but can’t mask our affection.

Back on the road for a lovely drive back to Maplewood. My sympathies are for Amie, Allison, and other Canadians who are charged with a 21-hour schlep back to Halifax, Ottawa, and other faraway lands.

Adieu, dear friends, until we meet again.

Oh, and on the way back, I made a wrong turn and found myself in Fawn Lake Forest, the small town where Betty J. and her family have a summer home, where Mike and I visited way back in 1998. Coincidence indeed.

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

12

07 2009

KATG1000, part II

Day two began with that timeless vacation tradition of venturing into town in search of groceries. After fumbling around a bit trying to find our way, we discovered a local supermarket, and bagels were purchased. And of course since everyone is a goddam drunk, we had to find a liquor store. And since Pennsylvania was founded by a bunch of Quakers, we also had to find a beer distributor for folks to buy beer.

Back at the house, on our pleasant little faux-suburban street, we spend the late morning staring and chatting and trying to recover from the previous day. Jeremy and Barry prepared chili and jumbalayaa, respectively, and with our bellies full, we headed over to the main resort.

First stop, the rifle range. Most of us, being city folk, had never fired a gun of any kind. (also, we got lost along the way, another sure sign that urbanites are meant to navigate the dense forests of Pennsylvania) Predictably, handling a .22 calibre rifle isn’t hard — it’s basically only a step up from a paintball gun or bb gun. The gunner, being an active-duty Army sniper, found the whole affair terribly amusing. Keith, an Army veteran had no trouble, once we found a way to cover his left eye, which he can’t close, for some reason. F-Mos, the Harlem native, felt somewhat awkward holding a rifle (as opposed to a handgun), and Chemda got back in touch with her middle-eastern roots, once she started to see that old bolt-action thing as an AK-47.

After shooting, we spent some time driving go-carts. The course was short, and narrow, but we still had fun trying to pass one another and giving the occasional bump. But half the fun was talking shit, really.

As the sun set, it was time for the actual show. Episode 1000 was a bit of a retrospective, with faithful guests chiming in on their experiences, audience members recalling memorable moments, and the odd jokes at my expense (with Keith calling me out on the design of my business cards, among other things).

And to finish, back to the house for another Party Super Party. Suck-and-blow Jell-o shooters are an interesting party tool, I must say. Myq K. passed on early on the couch, and almost nodded off on that ridiculously comfortable arm chair (with Ottoman).

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071101.flv width=300 height=235 /]
Scott shooting a rifle, struggling with spent shell casings

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071102.flv width=300 height=235 /]
The video can’t show it, but I’m actually a good shot.

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071103.flv width=300 height=235 /]
Allison fumbling with same dodgy rifle

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071104.flv width=300 height=235 /]
filming while driving, probably not the best idea

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071105.flv width=300 height=235 /]
Impromptu ice cream sandwich-eating contest

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071106.flv width=300 height=235 /]
It’s not a party until someone appears with a live frog

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

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11

07 2009

KATG1000, part I

Like on previous occasions, I have packed my bags and bid adieu to metro New York to follow my friends Keith and Chemda on the road. This time around, they were commemorating the 1000th episode of their show, Keith and The Girl.

For such an occasion, we assembled at the Woodloch resort outside of Hawley, PA to take in the scenic calm of the Poconos, to relax, sleep, catch up with old friends, and eat some good food.

Oh, that was just me. Everyone else was there to get shit-faced.

First, we met for a rather fancy dinner, followed by a game of Bingo. Then, after being grown-ups for too long, we headed back to the houses for a bit of what’s become known as “Party Super Party!” Aime even convinced me to do a shot of something called a Grasshopper. I think the last time I did a shot it was when Jay’s mum harangued me into trying a Mini Beer. As the video will attest, I don’t really drink.

Shenanigans, as expected.

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071001.flv width=300 height=235 /]
The Gunner taunting Aimee during Bingo

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071002.flv width=300 height=235 /]
Having way too much fun with a chocolate fondu fountain

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/2009071003.flv width=300 height=235 /]
Scott taking a shot. Whoa, really? Yea.

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

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10

07 2009

Old Friends/New Friends in LIC

After a long day of rugby, and wandering around Yonkers trying to find our way home, I headed to that strange land called Queens, where streets, avenues, places, and blvds, all compete for the same numbers.

Invited by Melanie, one of my new favourite people, Charlie, Francine, and I schlepped it out to Long Island City, taking the requisite detour from missed exits and generally bad navigation in the industrial heartland of that borough. Met some new people, re-met some existing people, snacked, talked, laughed, had a good time.

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

I need to start taking more pictures again.

By the way, this is what we were laughing at.

[flashvideo file=http://www.divingtank.com/video/20090518_pinky.flv /]

16

05 2009

The Marathon

It was the coldest day of the year, and raining on-and-off, but I made it across the line. My first marathon: done.

The race was actually a very enjoyable experience. Everyone, runners and supporters alike, was in high spirits and there was laughter and encouraging words the entire way. Along the way, I took a few moments to observe the trees, and the river, and the general sights and sounds of the relatively tranquil Philadelphia morning in November. Those cheering us on were helpful, offering everything from gatorade and water to tissues and even brownies! I gotta say, that little cube of chocolately goodness really hit the spot at mile 21.

It seems that our family can only get together and coordinate mutual presence for something on the scale of a graduation or wedding, but magically everyone turned up — Mischa from Atlantic City, Johanna from Washington, Mum & Papi from Maplewood, and me from Brooklyn. Of course, I think my route to the finish line was somewhat more taxing than anyone else’s. Haha.

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

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18

11 2007

A Philly Weekend

I was in Philly this weekend. Rode the train. Watched Hamlet. Ate chili. Read a bit. Had coffee with Dave. Watched Bat Boy. Ate Pasta. Met up with parents. Ran a marathon.

These are photos of the registration and exhibition on the Saturday before the Marathon. A bit hectic, what with all the runners, but generally the race was pretty well organised — especially considering the Marathon is run by the City of Philadelphia itself, not an organisation of some kind. Luckily for us, this means that there is no corporate sponsor inserting it’s name before the “Philadelphia Marathon”.

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed

strange days indeed