Fractured Facade


"A fathers death...a daughter's life...a sociopath's vendetta...FRACTURED FACADE ...a novel written as memoir. Only $3.99 and available wherever eBooks are sold. Click here for direct link to Amazon.

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Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label vacation. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Lake George

Some of the best vacations I've had have been ones that had little or no planning, ones where I just got in a car armed with road maps, AAA tour books, a suitcase, a cooler, with a sorta destination planned, and hit the road. Last month my husband and I decided to do just that and we found ourselves in upstate New York in the Lake George region.

The Village of Lake George
During the summers of my Brooklyn childhood, going on a vacation to Lake George, or the Catskills, both in upstate New York, was almost a rite of passage. When I was a kid I never went to either place. Instead, my father drove us all around the New York upstate hotspots. Vague memories include Lake Placid, The North Pole, 1,000 Islands, Niagara Falls, sometimes Toronto, Montreal and Quebec,  then back to the New England states. Glad I got to see The Old Man in the Mountain, whose granite profile is no more in New Hampshire, some distant relatives who lived inVermont, old sailing ships in Connecticut, along with other forgotten destinations. When I became older and could travel myself, I did hit some upstate spots for skiing and dude ranches, including the Catskills,  Hunter Mountain, Bear Mountain, and some other mountains, but never got to Lake George. It's probably not on most people's bucket list but it was on mine, (I have a very doable travel bucket list) so off we went...

Never realized how large Lake George is...it's 32 miles in length.

Driving up there for an extended weekend with no hotel reservations, during August, was probably not the best idea as we met quite a few no vacancy signs. Too many of the establishments that did have a vacancy only had one for that night which would mean we would have to begin the trek all over again the next day, not something I particularly wanted to do. When we first rolled into town the plan was to stay at a really nice place right on the lake. I wanted to be able to open the window in the morning and see the glistening sun beam off the water and fall asleep to the sounds of bullfrogs and crickets while ripples of lake gently lapped to the shore. As doors slammed in our face, some outright laughing at our question, "Why aren't there any vacancies?" and their response, "Ummm, it's summer!" we began to think that maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to be across the street from the lake and stay in one of those cute little cottages that dotted the road. When that proved undoable as well, we decided to keep driving north while following the lake to see if there was any rooms available. We had 32 miles of possibilities.

After being met with a plethora of no vacancy signs we found ourselves about ten miles from the downtown happening part of Lake George and in a cute little town called Bolton. There was an old timey looking motel with cabins facing the lake that had a vacancy sign up.



We were thrilled to find that they did indeed have four nights available, alas no lakeside cottages. We were told those were reserved a year in advance in most cases, so we opted for a room right by the pool. We could walk down to the lake and use the kayak and canoes any time we wanted. Oh, that sounds great we said to the clerk, and booked the room at a higher rate than I wanted to pay, as it was a typical upstate motel room that you would expect to find in the seventies.

When's the last time you used a key like this?
Even if there was no hair dryer, only one-ply toilet paper, the most translucent, thinnest, wrapped sliver of soap I have ever seen, and no complimentary shampoo and conditioner, I was thrilled it had air conditioning, a refrigerator, cable television, and thick wooden walls with no neighbors on either side. When we settled into the room I mentioned the canoe and kayak to my husband causing us both to burst out laughing as he uncorked the bottle of wine. Yeah, like we would actually go out on the lake, and row, or paddle something. Ha!

This was the view from the Bonnie Motel we saw when we walked down to the lake.

In fact, it was quite the hike down to the lake from our poolside room, so I think after the first time trek, that was the last time we trekked. Instead, we drove into town to see what was what, and found there was no shortage of activities for people who were more ummm, "outdoorsy" than us.

That's not Frank driving the boat. That's not me water skiing.
Can you see my husband and I parasailing?
Here's a close-up so you can see, nope, that's not us...

Cruising on Lake George

Nope, not for us...I get seasick.

Seriously though, we found plenty to do...

All upstate New York feels haunted to me
Fort William Henry
That flag offends me...remove it!!! Ha, just kidding



Downtown Lake George is your typical tourist upstate town, very picturesque, plenty of fudge stores, souvenir shops. ice cream parlors, live music, bars, restaurants, shopping, shopping, and more shopping. Bring comfortable walking shoes as you will do a lot of walking. I never realized the Lake George area had such a huge Italian presence. One Italian restaurant in Bolton, Cate's, was so good I thought I was back in Brooklyn. In fact, the pizza we had there was better than any pizza we had the last time we were in Brooklyn.

Seriously better pizza than the last one I had at L&B's in Brooklyn!
We overhead a lot of people speaking and many folks had our same Brooklyn accent. When the chef came out and made the rounds, we made sure to tell him how much we enjoyed the meal. I also discovered the refreshing joy of watermelon vodka mixed with cranberry juice and seltzer. There was a typical German restaurant that also had authentic fare, and lots of it. Go hungry. We also found a great Italian deli only down the road from the motel where we had breakfast and lunch. I think the biggest surprise came when we stumbled upon a bakery in the Village of Lake George that not only had real Italian bread and pastries, but the best black and white cookie I have ever had.

Perfection in a black and white, spongy with a slight tinge of lemon zest moist cake covered with fresh, soft, thick layer of homemade vanilla and chocolate frosting. 

The food was so delicious up there, and varied with so many Italian delicacies to choose from which I cannot get in Roanoke, we didn't have to hit Brooklyn on the way back home to Virginia because all my food cravings were satisfied.

Another reason why I chose Lake George...there was another bucket list location nearby. And it was a perfect time to visit as this was the brief season when the thoroughbreds were racing in Saratoga Springs!  More on that in the next blog post...

Monday, June 23, 2014

Virginia Beach

My daughter and I just returned from an impromptu trip to Virginia Beach. This was my fourth or fifth time during a span of 45 years. Frankly, I didn't care what beach we went to as long as there was an ocean crashing within spray mist distance. We checked into the Best Western Plus Sandcastle (click here for Trip Advisor review) whose desk clerk very kindly changed our room from the one in front of the elevator and ice machine, to up another floor and far down the corridor. This was the view from our balcony. Perfect.


This is how we felt upon arriving.


The smell and sounds of the ocean cut through our bleakness fairly quick.


Even if I'm not a kid, and would never go on any of those death traps, I mean rides, just the sight and sound of others having unbridled screams of joy, or terror, makes me feel tingly near an amusement park. This is probably from my Coney Island childhood.


In the past I've found Virginia Beach to be tacky and dirty. I was pleasantly surprised how I found it this trip. Oh, it's still tacky, but definitely not dirty. Sanitation workers patrol the strip constantly, emptying out the mostly already empty trash cans, and extinguishing lit butts with their gloved hand, then tossing them into trash. The city must have a problem with cursing because there are "no cursing" signs, expletive symbols with a red slash going through it, on the street poles. What's up with that?

What the city is now providing, new from the last time I was at the beach, are all different sorts of street performers in the parks, the main strip, and the side streets. Some are pretty pathetic, but there were quite a few impressive artists, and this troupe was our favorite. They are the Kenyan Safari Acrobats. They performed a half-hour from their touring two-hour show.

Now, this fellow was quite impressive with his balancing and holding himself ramrod straight on those wooden chairs. You know how strong you have to be to accomplish that? He was really cut, but not in that obscene muscle bound Bobo way.



Now, don't try this at home...




How low did he go...pretty freaking low. They were amazing, and I loved watching them dance to the African beat, not that rap crap, but the continent's songs. It was fun walking the strip, but it got old after two days. The girl is almost 21, but not in Virginia's eyes, so I can't report on any of the bars or such establishments. I can tell you about the restaurants.


One thing I cannot understand is how can a city whose whole existence is built around the sea not have exquisite seafood? Heck, after a while I would have accepted decent seafood. Every restaurant we went to I tried some sort of fish. I'm from the mountains, so if I;m at the seashore I crave something short in supply, fresh seafood locally harvested. Not one place delivered. The only thing that came close was the shrimp and crab cheese dip at the Mexican joint, and with the minuscule amount of shrimp and crab in it, I'd say it was the cheesy part that was a hit.


We went to this one restaurant, Big Italy, and I have to say, as a New York Italian, I was slightly offended. It was so cheesy, (not the good imported stuff) and cliche. Can you imagine being a chef in a "nice" restaurant,  having the sea lap at your feet, and yet serve previously frozen clams in baked clams casino? They were so chewy and disgusting I spit them out in my napkin. I told the waitress they were the worst clams I ever had, and asked her to find out if they were frozen. She didn't report back. We may be tourists, but that doesn't mean we don't know good food. Well, after experiencing a Japanese seafood buffet, maybe too many tourists don't.


Although I had hoped the seafood would be as fresh as it is in Maine, New York, or Florida, it wasn't even close to what I get in Roanoke, but that's okay, the beautiful beach trumped everything. It's so much wider and cleaner than I remembered it. I was fine just bobbing in the ocean,  chilling in a chair, reading a book that wasn't for research,  or flipping through a Vanity Fair magazine, but others were more adventurous.

See that dot? That's on the internal lens I believe. It gets worse when I zoom in.

Still there. POS camera.

So, we're in the ocean and this couple brings their shih-tzu in with them. She would clutch her mother's arms whenever a wave would rock them. Her four little legs were doggy-paddling the air. When they placed her in the water she started swimming. They did hold onto her the whole time.  The lifeguard whistled and told them no dogs were allowed. While she was on the beach waiting for the father to get out of the ocean, I called silently, "Bella." She turned and I snapped this shot.


Every morning I would be awoken by the sunrise peeking through a slit in thick drapes covering the widow. The sun was already beating down directly onto our balcony. I loved sitting there drinking a cup of coffee, listening to the crash of waves, my nose sizzling in the sun. It was so relaxing.


By the third day I was able to leave my troubles behind. And then I made a mistake and checked Facebook where I read reports that a major automotive parts company in Roanoke were set to make an announcement. I knew this wasn't going to be good, so I texted my son, who happens to work for said company. Apparently I wasn't supposed to know anything until I got back, but his position, along with many others from four more divisions were being terminated in Roanoke. They are moving them to Raleigh, NC. He was going to be out of a job. I almost preferred that to him transferring to an even more southern state. Luckily Raleigh's ISP provider is Time Warner, and for a gamer that's a deal breaker. And just like that the serenity was gone...




On the last night a major storm erupted. It was wild watching it from the balcony. I was able to only get this one shot because my POS camera would not stop trying to focus.



When I awoke the next morning it was still raining, but the sun was trying to peek through.


And then what I had been searching for, for four days, came into view...a family of dolphins frolicking close to the shore. You can see one of them at the top of the photo below. I finally put my camera down to just watch them. So beautiful and graceful, they immediately lifted my spirits.


Then a huge beam of light fell from the heavens and goosebumps popped on my arms and legs in the eighty degree heat.


I experienced the proverbial cloud with silver lining. Rather than worry about what my son wouldn't have, I reflected on the possibilities of what he could have in the future.


This girl trip was a major milestone for me. This was the first time in 19 years, since we've moved to Roanoke, that I got in a car and drove away alone along the very highways I had convinced myself to fear. I had become so complacent with my husband handling all the driving on freeways, carrying the heavy luggage, being my "protector," that I had allowed myself to think I couldn't drive hundreds of miles without him, "just in case" something might happen. When I conveyed my fears to my daughter before we left that I might panic on the highway or while driving over a bridge or through a tunnel, she laughed at me. "You drive in Manhattan, along the Belt Parkway and BQE, even around the crazy Grand Army Plaza eight lane roundabout, and that was terrifying, so I wouldn't worry about it." She was right, and she probably doesn't even realize how grateful I am that she opened the cage and allowed me to soar just by asking me if I wanted to get away for a couple of days. I feel like my old self again, and the girl feels like a new self. All in all,  it was a great trip.

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

I Am a Coney Island Baby


I am a Coney Island Baby. Good, or bad, Coney Island has laid a heavy hand on shaping who I am today.


One day I will write a poem or short story about it, but for today, I will post some pics from last month.




Famous for its rides, especially the wooden-tracked Cyclone, the only rides I ever went on were the bumper cars, haunted house, or house of mirrors. Scraped skin from my ankle once lined the barrel of the fun house as I tumbled non-stop, and cemented my inability to handle even a "calm" ride. It was probably the first time the operator had to ever stop that "ride."

During my younger years the draw for me was the beach, pier and Boardwalk, but mostly the beach.



Now it's the, pier, Boardwalk and food, mostly the food. Nathan's, just as good as it ever was, is still at its original location on Surf Avenue. The Shore used to be a movie theatre.


Nathan's has expanded to the Boardwalk as well.


Because Brooklyn is so small, with only a couple of million folks, my friend and I ran into my husband and his brother while they were enjoying some beer and hot dogs that fine sunny afternoon.


We left them and headed to Ruby's which is right next door. If you read Fractured Facade you may remember Marie reminiscing about her days of going to Coney Island with her grandfather, a regular at Ruby's. In those days, us youngsters didn't get thrown out of bars, but usually found ourselves with coins stuffed in our hands for the Fascination Arcade where we played Skeeball while waiting for our supervision to finish drinking beers and eating clams.


Ruby's has really changed from the dive it once was...No longer dank, dark, barely-filled, or, cheap. Now they charge $6 for a beer, or a glass of wine, and the EuroTrash that has "found" Ruby's thanks to all the publicity it received when it was almost forced to close down, doesn't mind paying it. Never in my life would I have imagined I would use Ruby's and EuroTrash in the same sentence, but alas, if that's what has saved Ruby's from its demise, so be it.



I don't lament the change of Ruby's as much as the ability to call a friend on a Saturday afternoon who will agree with me it's time for a cocktail and a dance to a tune on the jukebox in Coney Island.


After a couple of cool ones, we decided to walk to the end of the pier, the very pier that sometimes was deemed "too long" to walk when we were younger. Like life, it seems much shorter now.





The fishermen and crabbers are still able to spend the day without the need for a fishing license. The odd assortment of characters, boombox music, and slimy stuff, are still lining it.



Young love...


A lonely man...


And a cruise ship (is this the same one from Maine???) sailing in the harbor can be seem depending upon which way I turn.








As we walked back to the car, a flock of starlings circled our heads and flew up to the Parachute Jump.


And just like I did with Grandpa before getting on the subway some 40 plus years ago, I stopped in "our store" to get a treat...


but couldn't indulge in the memory of Grandpa's parting treat to me -- a candy-red jelly apple the teeth of my youth used to demolish.


Ciao Coney Island...I miss you already. At least I still have the memories.