Ridin' the Rails with Rudolph

Slowly We Turned….Heading West via Niagara Falls, Wisconsin, and the Empire Builder

After our sleepless night in Philly we boarded an early train and went up the gorgeous Hudson Valley to Niagara Falls, which I was shocked to find lacked the quaint honeymoon cottages and culture I had been led to expect by recent puff pieces in the national press. In fact, we were doubly shocked to see how much of the town was derelict–empty storefronts and huge malls, empty.

In contrast, the Canadian side looked like Las Vegas and was thrumming with tourist activity.

Made Of The Mist? The Canadian Side Beckons

We had a good time bumming around in spite of this–the Falls and the park were still beautiful though overcast–we did finally see a rainbow over Niagara in our last hour before leaving.

Touching Water , North Border-View from the deck of The Maid of The Mist (four of the five Great Lakes contribute water to Niagara Falls)

Great Lakes Garden, Niagara State Park

Illuminated Falls At Night

I spoke with a few locals and wrote my first Examiner piece on the town; I ended up discovering a lot more about the region with just a few conversations than I thought I would. Niagara is experiencing some complex political and economic issues right now, and its survival depends on either a radically improved economy right away or some smart, rapid action on behalf of the state and local authorities, neither of which seems forthcoming. It’s sad–there’s a lot to enjoy there, potential wasted mostly by political in-fighting.

Sad Empty "Snow Park," Niagara Falls

Full Moon Over The Niagara Rapids, Near The Red Coach Inn

We stayed at the Red Coach Inn, a last-renovated-in-the-1950’s red-velvet funky theme joint–a little dusty, but the staff was friendly and they had an old school menu in the restaurant, e.g. steaks served with a pat of butter on top. You could hear the Niagara rapids from our room, which was really nice, sound like steady rain.

Modeling "Maid Of The Mist" Blue Ponchos

We did the Maid of the Mist and walked the Falls Park; on our last day, we visited with the Niagara area jeweler that made my wedding band (I’m working on an Examiner piece about him and his work) and he was hilarious and really fun to talk to, but we had to dash to make our next train.

Buffalo Wings At Duff's--Buffalo, NY

We had to change trains and kill about ten hours in Buffalo, which was FREAKIN’ COLD!! We walked around and a) ate authentic Buffalo wings at purportedly-top-rated-wing-joint Duff’s, which were spicy, greasy, and made us slightly nauseated, and b) found the coolest grocery store on the planet, Wegman’s–better stocked with fresh-prepped, interesting food than Bristol Farms or Whole Paycheck, with FREE WIRELESS IN THEIR CAFE!!! We ate lunch like, three times during the five hours we were there, stocked up on snacks for the train, internetted, and then went back to the Amtrak station to set off for Milwaukee and points west.

I mean, they had FRESH FLOWERS in the RESTROOM! WEGMAN'S ROCKS!!!

We rented a car and drove from Milwaukee through, YES–WAUKESHA, WISCONSIN!!! HOME OF SPIDERCOW!!! on our way to Baraboo, WI. We made good time so we drove over to the Dells, which we had been told were “really beautiful.” They were “really” piled high with Vegas-style waterparks and amusement complexes and moose-and-bear themed restaurants, though we did take a nice hike to the water through the woods only to encounter teens talking on their cell phones and some guy with his boat radio cranked up. Ah, the sweet sounds of nature.

The Dells

At Baraboo we stayed at another funky inn run by a funny retired couple–birdhouses that were little models of the inn and crazy cut-out cows everywhere–but we were skunked by the non-open Circus World, to which we had expressly traveled to Baraboo to see. Our best guess was that we had obtained their schedule from an old website–there was a newly renovated one when we checked again, and this one said they weren’t going to open until May 22nd. But we were already there. Bara-BOOOOOO.

You Know You're In Wisconsin When You See These Next To The Cheese

We went instead and picnicked here at Devil’s Lake–not very circusy but we made do. There were turtles.

Our Picnic Bench, Devil's Lake, WI

And the Forevertron made the entire Wisconsin junket worth it. See Samuel’s post and our “Thumbs Up” for more.

The Forevertron

The Forevertron's Love Beam

Other Defenders Of The Forevertron

More in Part II–stayed tuned for House On The Rock!

Random Impressions: Creativity and Spectacles

“Go see the Dells,” people said to us when they heard we would be in central Wisconsin. “It’s incredible!”

Natural Beauty of the Wisconsin Dells

And incredible it was. A tourist attraction that started with beautiful river-carved gorges has evolved into Las Vegas on the Wisconsin. The road in is dominated by huge waterparks with a variety of themes: a giant upside-down Whitehouse, a massive Trojan Horse roller coaster, and more. Each attraction goes beyond its neighbor in outrageousness or size: a veritable creative frenzy to draw the crowd.

Thrills! Chills!

Big Pony

Like the original Las Vegas, the attractions at the Dells are impressive. There is some big-budget art design (and plenty of low-budget design too).

When I visit some place like Disneyland, or watch a well-crafted film, I can admire the quality of the art objectively. I know that there’s a whole team behind the work — sure, there’s likely to be a single art director, but the totality is the result of many contributors.

Not so, the Forevertron.

Main Forevertron

Tucked away behind a salvage yard and with little to announce it, the Forevertron is a massive hulk of metal; it is the ultimate “Steampunk” creation – vast turbines are enmeshed in jungles of tanks and tubing, sprouting insulators and high-voltage cathodes, dominated by complex control centers filled with gauges and dials. It is just one piece in a field of many sculptures, most of which are auxiliary components to the overall system: ostensibly the assemblage is to enable the creator to be transported to other worlds. Thus the system includes such necessary components as body mass shrinkers, defensive “love guns,” viewing areas for royalty, the great telescope for watching his progress, “juicing bugs” which provide additional power, “celestial listening ears” for receiving communications, and so forth.

Forevertron: Transport "Egg"

More Forevertron: Tea-room for Royalty

More Forevertron: Control Center

More Forevertron: Telescope

Forevertron: Bird Band

More Forevertron

Both the main Forevertron and its surrounding sculptures show a deep material ingenuity coupled with a sense of humor.

There are whole bands of emu and moa-like bird / musical-instrument chimaeras, marching in humorous processions. The component pieces are musical instruments and all manner of other mechanical junk. They’re made of trumpets and english horns and bells, but also have graceful flexing spines where the vertebrae are made of shearing blades or drive chains or cogs. A glockenspiel bird’s bells are various cut-up gas cylinders, while another bird’s neck is a saxophone, and many have tails made up of the bells of dozens of trumpets.

More Forevertron

The Forevertron sculpture collection is fantastic. Unlike the attractions at the Dells, it’s mostly the work of one man (with the support of his wife and sons): Tom Every a.k.a. Dr. Evermore. Emotionally, looking at the work is exhilarating, but induces a touch of jealousy, because I know that I’ll never create anything that can compare. It’s a perverse reaction I sometimes get when looking at things I find extraordinarily well done: my admiration and joy is tinged with a kind of gluckschmerz.

A mere 33 miles by road from the Forevertron, The House on the Rock is another expression of creative exuberance. After crossing the massive parking lot, through the gate house and ticket office, you can take a tour of several parts; the first being the house itself, the others being various collections and, for want of a better term, the walk-in spectacles.

The house, as we learn from the hagiographical interpretive center, was created almost singlehandedly by Alex Jordan in an organic fashion, and without a plan. It’s a stone and wood construction across the face of a large boulder that incorporates live trees, is filled with mysterious little nooks and crannies, and is lit by stained glass windows and Tiffany lamps. It’s got hidden waterfalls, Asian-themed sculpture, built-in bookshelves and sofas, and elaborately carved Indian wooden panels throughout. Surprising views open out into the treetops, and inconspicuous doorways lead to small, pillowed chambers. It has all the power and enchantment of a real-world Rivendell blended with hints of a lurid opium den.

Inside House on the Rock

We are told that once Jordan started admitted paid visitors to his house, he transformed into something of a showman, and put all the admissions money back into the house and the collections. An addition to the house, a windowed cantilever walkway out eighty some odd feet above the treetops may be the first sign of this transition.

The rest of the house is collections and spectacles. Like some Dark Disney, Jordan and his team created an underground Main Street USA, dimly lit, and filled with curious collections of antiques: cigarette lighters, scrimshaw, firearms, replica jewelry, and circus miniatures. From there, he started adding nickelodeons, recorder celestas, carillons, orchestrions, and other music-making machines. The further you go, the more complex the music machines.

Blue Danube Room Detail

Orchestrion Room Detail

Organ Room Detail

Orchestrions become whole rooms, decked out in extraordinary detail to look like Viennese Opera Houses or other scenes and are filled with automated instruments. Curiously, as the rooms get more elaborate, the music-making becomes increasingly fake: the automated violin bows move, but the violins lack strings. More and more of the sound is coming from hidden speakers behind decorations. This trend culminates in the auditorium-sized Organ Room, which simulates an enormous, fantastically complex steam organ, replete with oddly reminiscent “Steampunk” design (Tom Every claims to have done a lot of the work, although he is not credited on site. I’ve ordered a book that promises to deliver the dish). At this point, the sound is completely piped in, yet there is still some small simulation of it being an actual working machine with moving mechanical dampers.

Heavenly Host

Decadence

Another trend also is visible as you progress through the collections and spectacles of the House on the Rock. One of the earlier music rooms is bordello themed, with red draperies and an ornate mirror on the ceiling above a four-poster bed. The great carousel has topless mermaids and women riding mystical creatures below a heavenly horde of bare-breasted angels. One of the final exhibits, a doll carousel, is topped with masked nudes cavorting with satyrs. As the overt decadence increases, so does the religious iconography; statues of saints and dolorous medieval woodcarvings abound.

Interestingly, the only portion of the House on the Rock and its that triggers my gluckschmerz is the oldest portion of the house itself. It’s the place where my teen-aged self should have read The Hobbit. The collections are interesting, but not compelling. The spectacles are also fascinating, fun, and impressive … but the stink of fakery detracts, as does the obvious goal of impressing us. Maybe this is some deep-rooted fear of manipulation, but when someone announces that they have the craziest collection, the biggest carousel in the world, the biggest chandelier in the world, the most fantastic musical devices in the world … all those superlatives make me defensive. In contrast, the Forevertron feels like it was done for Dr. Evermore’s benefit, not the viewer’s (and the pretense that it’s a time machine or space travel device is a conceit that’s shared with the viewer — it’s not an attempt to trick us).

In any case, given the opportunity, I’d recommend a visit to both places. The pictures above don’t even begin to do justice to either place.

Sleepless in Philadelphia; Niagara Falling

Love Park, Philadelphia

Friday morning we took the train overnight from Savannah to Philly, where we beheld a sunny morning. We checked our luggage and our reservation at Club Quarters Philadelphia, and set out for the Mütter Museum (see “Thumbs Up”) and the Mummers Museum later that afternoon. Both are worth seeing, but don’t confuse the two or you will be permanently messed in the head.

Like the Mütter Museum, the Mummers Museum is not for everybody. I was drawn to it because I am fascinated by community-created rituals, and Philadelphia’s New Year’s Day Mummer Parade is a bizarre and wonderful example of how folk traditions are initiated, institutionalized, and passed down to new participants.

Philly is home to several Mummers “clubs” (which resemble New Orleans Mardi Gras krewes) that march and dance in a garish New Year’s Day parade, replete with “comics” (clowns), “string bands,” “wenches,” and “fancy brigades.” The clubs can spend $100-$200k outfitting their membership in fantastical costumes (properly called “suits”) and they compete in themed choreographic presentations that are rehearsed for months on a volunteer basis.

This is a five-minute documentary featuring a champion mummer club, the South Philly Vikings. (Note: as of 2009, there are no more cash prizes…these folks are mummers for love and bragging rights, and spend much of the year fundraising to make their show possible. Shades of SpiderCow!!)

The Mummers Museum documents the evolution of the parade from its roots in ancient mummer traditions to its modern regulated state. The museum itself is a little dusty and many of the exhibits are aging and nonfunctional, but we found a few bits of history to enlighten us–the archive photos of early parades are fantastic. It’s clear the parade was once a subversive romp by a mostly immigrant population–Samuel likened it to the “Burning Man” of its time–but now it is a big money establishment-run affair, and the Mummers Museum helps one understand this evolution from high-spirited improvisational mischief to manic civic competition.

The volunteers who run the museum–members of mummers clubs themselves–will enthusiastically talk your ear off about the Mummer phenomenon. One is left wondering if there’s a kind of wonderful antic madness running through Philly, or if there just aren’t enough other activities to keep people gainfully occupied. It’s easy to forgive them for oversharing their excitement though–lots of sparkles for New Year’s Day, a massive and serious contest, and an even more massive and serious party afterwards!!

Mummers Museum, main hall

The Mummers Museum is outside the main tourist area of town where I guess rent is cheap for non-profits–we had a nerve-wracking walk through a rough section of Philly to get back to our hotel. That tired us out so we opted to have dinner close by at a cloyingly hip place on Chestnut called Continental Midtown, a “global tapas” diner (which translates as small plates, but you can’t say “small” in these recessionary days, even around foodie types who should know better.)

We had our Regionally Required Dish–Philly Cheese Steak–in a won ton wrapper, and it tasted pretty good, if lacking in Philly street cred.

Philly Cheese Steak Wonton, Continental Midtown Restaurant

Sadly, Philly street CRUD was all we had that night at our hotel, Club Quarters Philadelphia.

About one-thirty in the morning, the nightclub downstairs spawned what Samuel dubbed a “horn artist,” i.e. some schmuck who leaned into his/her car horn for about two hours. That, the shrieking and yelling from the clubgoers, and the consequent sirens two hours later kept us stone awake until about four a.m. So lovely, as we had to get up at 5:30 a.m. to make our train to New York.

We were beyond zombied and miserable when we went downstairs that morning–mind you, we were on the NINTH FLOOR and the ruckus sounded like it was just outside the window–and Club Quarters gave no quarter when I complained upon check-out. “Oh yeah, that’s the club downstairs” was all they said, politely, and our only recourse was to write a ruthlessly truthful review on TripAdvisor about our night there. They didn’t even have their lobby coffee ready. We were traumatized but too exhausted to actually freak out on it.

It’s really too bad–Club Quarters could have been a nice experience if they had made some attempt to deal with the situation, or with us. As it is, if it’s a weekend–run away, run away!!

Six a.m. Breakfast of Champions, Philly departure lounge

At six a.m. we slogged onto the train to Penn Station, NYC, where we transferred to the Amtrak Empire State up the Hudson River Valley to Niagara Falls. It was a packed train, which surprised us, but the scenery was beautiful.

Hudson Valley, from train window

We arrived in Niagara in the late afternoon and were driven to our inn by an Indian taxi driver who drove like Batman having a panic attack (as it ended up, all our taxi drivers were Indian; apparently in Niagara there are a substantial number of immigrants and tourists from India, who often come via Canada.)

From the first moments of our arrival, it was clear Niagara Falls was not all we had been led to believe, though it has kept a few of its maidenly virtues intact. Sadly, the “Honeymoon Capital of the World” has lost much of its business to the meretricious development across the river on The Canadian Side. It seems to be sad days for the U.S. portion of Niagara, but maybe that’s about to change???….

….More on that Hard Rock Border War and the Lack of a Honeymoon “There” There when next I post….stay tuned!

Made Of The Mist? The Canadian Side Beckons

THUMBS UP: The Mütter Museum, Philadelphia PA

19 South 22nd Street, Philadelphia, PA, 19103

The Mütter Museum is part of the College of Physicians of Philadelphia and the experience is hard to summarize. This collection of medical rarities and historic forensic specimens is awe-inspiring and engrossing (emphasis on the gross, at times.)

Skull, Mütter Museum

From their website: “The Mütter Museum was founded to educate future doctors about anatomy and human medical anomalies. Today, it serves as a valuable resource for educating and enlightening the public about our medical past and telling important stories about what it means to be human. The Mütter Museum embodies The College of Physicians of Philadelphia ‘s mission to advance the cause of health, and uphold the ideals and heritage of medicine.”

We couldn’t take any photos of the stuff inside, but you can see some of this bizarre and touching collection of medical specimens from days gone by on the Mütter Museum website.

It’s probably too much to tour the whole museum–though fairly small, it gets a bit overwhelming–but highlights include a collection of antique specimens showing different dermatological disorders (some real, others made of wax but exhibited in jars of alcohol to simulate actual tissue samples), a rare saponified mummy (a body that has turned to soap), human horns, autopsy materials from famous and not-so-famous murders, and–for those truly interested in the grotesque–a teratology exhibit (abnormal fetuses and infants.)

The museum maintains an air of dignity and respect for those who are exhibited there, but it is not entirely without a sense of humor–the gift shop offers souvenirs like smiling plushy microbes, anatomically-correct chocolate hearts, and silk ties with skull or virus patterns for those of the ghastly/Gothy persuasion.

I found the section on war medicine from the Civil War very moving, and Samuel and I walked out of there feeling very glad to enjoy good health in the time of antibiotics and advanced surgical technologies. We recommend it highly, but eat lunch well beforehand–you can visit the sweet and calming Medicinal Herb Garden afterwards if you get a little green.

Thumbs Up: Alligator Soul Restaurant, Savannah GA

Everyone raves about Mrs. Wilkes, but I thought the better Southern meal experience–though definitely Nouvelle Southern–could be had at Alligator Soul, just a few blocks away from Mrs. Wilkes. It’s located at 114 Barnard Street near the Historic District, in a nicely renovated cellar location–a repurposed granary with windows shaped like eyes, an architectural design that was once believed to create mojo to keep pests and thieves away.

The Walls Have Eyes

Fried Green Tomatoes, Nouvelle Southern Style

The amuse-bouches of truffled ground beef in a beignet crust and the ancho-honey corn muffins were fantastic, as were the house salad with sundried tomatos, stone-fruit, and goat cheese and the fried green tomatoes appetizer with chipotle mayo and sweet pepper relish.

Samuel, Soft Shell Crabs

Beignet Chicken

For mains, Samuel had the soft-shell crab and I had a beignet-crusted Southern chicken breast with a sweet/spicy dried peach bourbon reduction; they were bursting with wonderful combinations and the portions are quite large for a gourmet restaurant (of course, this is The South.)

The menu changes frequently depending on what’s fresh in the marketplace, and the combinations are inspirational–one of the few meals I’ve had in the past couple years where I’ve stopped mid-mouthful to savor in amazement at the complexity of the flavors. They offer chef’s tasting menus and wine flights for foodies. Full bar, good wine list, and a great experience.

The couple next to us wasn’t happy however–their mashed potatoes were cold and there was some problem with their coffee–but they were a little older and I think expecting something conventional.

Anyway–highly recommend it. Reservations are necessary; it’s definitely the hot joint in Savannah these days. Oh, and the chocolate pecan pie with butter toffee ice cream was divine, y’all.

Give me li'l sugar.

Off The Rails: Driving The South

If you’ve read Samuel’s rant at the beginning of this blog about the impossibility of the Amtrak booking system, you know that we couldn’t make a complete circuit of the U.S. by train because Amtrak no longer operates the Southern Line east of New Orleans (though it appears on all their schedule maps.)

So we rented a car and lit out, trying to drive from New Orleans to Jacksonville FL in one day–about 550 miles–planning to find a random hotel, and then driving another 150 miles to Savannah the next morning.

Vroom! We barreled through four states–LA, MS, AR, and most of FL in about twelve hours, but took a detour down to the Florida portion of the Gulf Shore near Pensacola Beach (paying the kingly sum of $1 to take the toll bridge there) stopping to touch the water in the Gulf of Mexico and take some photos of the beautiful white sand beaches. It’s mid-April and spring breaks are over so the resort and beach preserve were fairly empty–very beautiful and almost desolate now, but I’ll wager a crowded nightmare in summer. We were glad we took the time to meander down to see it though, and you might want to do the same some day.

Welcome To Mississippi!

Welcome To Alabama!

Welcome To Florida!

Welcome To The Gulf Of Mexico!

White sand beach, Florida's Gulf Island National Seashore

By the time we got done with our Gulf Shore visit it was late afternoon and I wanted to hammer through to Jacksonville before it got dark, but we decided to cut back to Interstate 10 through Niceville–which BTW, wasn’t–and once we were back on I-10 and night had fallen Samuel exclaimed, “There’s a place here on the Florida map called the Lech Worth Love Mounds” and I said, “THERE IS NOT!!” and he bet me there was, right near “Lake MicoSucky.”

He was having me on, of course. When challenged, he waffled by claiming it was tiny print/hard to read/not too sure but we were in a trapped-in-the-car-too-long punchy mood so in the middle of the night we drove about 40 miles off highway to check it out. We couldn’t go into the site, but here’s the sign.

Harumph.

He didn’t mention it was hyphenated, “Letch” with a t, and it’s Lake Miccosukee, but it only goes to show that some people will stretch anything for a punchline.

It was quite late after this diversion so we holed up in a nearby Holiday Inn Express in Madison County, Florida (which worked out nicely due to the Waffle House across the parking lot and a coin-op laundry in the hotel) and then drove through Jacksonville to the Atlantic the following morning.

The "spot" where Interstate 10 ends, Eastern end, Jacksonville FL

Touching the Atlantic (Second Base)

We touched the Atlantic–we figured we might as well touch all four water bases of the U.S. as we go along, just to say we did–then drove up to Savannah. We slept pretty well–something that wouldn’t happen again for a while–then spent the day on a tourist tram looking at Savannah’s main attractions. If you like art, architecture, and design, there’s lots to see–the Savannah College of Design, or “SCAD,” has bought and renovated many historical buildings and it’s spiffy to see. We also went to the famed Mrs. Wilkes Dining Room for lunch, lining up with the other tourists an hour beforehand to obtain a seat at their family-style table.

Mrs. Wilkes Dining Room: Table and Tourists

I know everyone raves about it and the food was tasty (and cheap for what you get at $16) but I’m not sure it’s the apotheosis of Southern cooking everyone says it is. It was educational, a comprehensive layout of all those dishes you’ve read about, and it was an easy and fairly painless way to try them all in one sitting. Might just be some anticipointment, or maybe just another little discovery tainted by success. I would also have appreciated knowing up front that they are a Christian organization, and they force a grace in Jesus’ name on you before the meal–that soured things for me a bit, but with the high saturation level of evangelical Christian culture we observed throughout the South it shouldn’t have surprised me. I was tempted to say the Shehechiyanu in response but couldn’t remember all the words, so I just ate my collard greens in Jesus name like everyone else (though Samuel says he silently invoked the FSM as his spiritual antidote.)

You're Going To Hell, Y'all

Speaking of swearing to God, we also visited the Juliette Gordon Low birthplace; “Daisy” Low was the founder of the Girl Scouts, who vow at every meeting “to serve God and [their] country” as well as to be helpful, kind, and sell cookies for the cause. The birthplace is regarded as Mecca for Scouts to this day–registered Girl Sprouts can buy a special Birthplace Badge if they actually go there, and a Friendship Badge if they couldn’t make it. Still has many of the original furnishings from the mid- to late 1800s, well-preserved. Fun to see if you like that period in history, and her story confirms once again that It’s Good To Be Rich.

Southern Comfort--Daisy Low House Verandah

There are dozens of other old homes that are open for tours, and if you’re into antiques and antebellum design Savannah will be a treasure trove. You can also visit the Mercer House, location of the murder depicted in “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.” Read the book first before you go–we hadn’t, and they won’t talk about it on the tour.

Returned the rental car and caught the train to Philly. Strange to be in a warm clime and then one train ride later be in the cold/dark/wet. More on “Sleepless in Philadelphia” soon…..

Two Non-Day Non-Postcards

We’re sitting in a Wegman’s grocery store café in Buffalo, waiting for midnight to roll around so we can board our next train.

In honor of that late hour, I thought I’d post two non-postcards.

Savannah Oak

Niagara Falls

Shuffle Off to Buffalo w/Samuel, Elizabeth, and Ruby Keeler

“All aboard the Niagara Limited!”

It’s a grey and rainy Sunday and we didn’t get any sleep last night (more when we catch up about Savannah and Philly) but for now we’re Shuffling Off To Buffalo on Amtrak’s Empire State to Niagara Falls. We’re going up the river and the scenery is splendid if wet (I kinda like it that way) and we’ll be in Niagara Falls by nightfall, which promises to be wet, too…I mean rainy, you dope.

In the meantime, here’s the famous 1933 “Shuffle Off To Buffalo” dance number from “42nd Street” where Ruby Keeler and her Broadway groom Clarence Nordstrom tapdance their way up the train car to their honeymoon cabin. FYI, the conductors still wear the same peaked caps and punch your tickets with a hand punch (remind me to get a darling bias cut dancing dress and flowered beanie cap the next time I board this train!)

The reveal of the train interior is fantastic and keep an eye out for the young Ginger Rogers and Una Merkel in a top bunk eating bananas and waxing cynical about matrimony.

The clip is prefaced by Warner Baxter’s impassioned speech to Ruby Keeler, which has become a much-lampooned trope but here’s the original in all its melodramatic glory. “You’re going out there a youngster, but you’ve GOTTA come back a STAR!”

Enjoy!

Thumbs Up: Angelo Brocato Ice Cream and Gelato

214 N Carrollton Ave, New Orleans, LA 70119-5109

(504) 486-0078 | www.angelobrocatoicecream.com/

I loved the stracciatella (Italian chocolate chip), it was creamy and flavorful, clearly homemade and fresh….but wish I’d looked more carefully before ordering! As soon as I was handed my gelato, I noticed the display case beyond the register that had fresh spumoni, cassata (spumoni/cake combo, yum!) and baked Alaska too. If I could have eaten more I would have tried them all! They also make several varieties of authentic italian cookies, available in gift bags, and have a grand old school espresso machine–I love coffee with my ice cream, and American joints never have it. Go indulge!

Thumbs Up: 1896 O’Malley House

Dining Room and Parlor, 1896 O'Malley House

120 South Pierce Street, New Orleans, LA 70119

+1 1-866-226-1896 | www.1896omalleyhouse.com

If you ever want a cozy but connected B&B in New Orleans, we can highly recommend 1896 O’Malley House. This was our TripAdvisor review:

Title: Wish We Never Had To Leave!

From the moment we stepped into 1896 O’Malley House we felt welcome and charmed.

The house is warmly and tastefully decorated, the coffee and wine are always flowing (having just passed through Texas, it was the first decent cup of coffee we had in days, for which we will be eternally grateful.) It is redolent of cedar, the beautiful wood used to build much of the house. [Ed note: it’s actually cypress, not cedar, but smells the same to me.]

Room 1 was amply sized for the two of us and we loved our jacuzzi tub! The bed was very clean and comfortable and the fast and consistent wireless network made it easy and efficient for us to catch up on work projects and business communications.

Larry has extensive, detailed knowledge of all the local restaurants and attractions–they have a huge compendium of menus and music info available in the lobby–and he gave us a fantastic referral to the latest hot foodie joint (it was just as good as promised.)

The location is right across the street from the Canal Street trolley car, which goes directly to the French Quarter or City Park (and connects to the St. Charles line through the Garden District.)

Food was great and service excellent!

Our visit was relaxing, informative, and stressless. Laissez les bon temps roulez while you’re in Nawlins, but get your sleep at the 1896 O’Malley House!