On the Road Again | Portland, Oregon

...and Woodburn and Silver Falls Park. I was in Portland in April for a work conference; however, I have two friends (one of whom you'll meet here) who live in the area, so I was able to treat the trip like a mini-vacay. Along with two friends who also came from The SLC, we frolicked in the flowers at the Woodburn Tulip Festival, hiked the hills in Silver Falls Park, and hunted for letter press stationary in the hip Hawthorne neighborhood of East Portland. It was a trip full of good friends, good food, and good memories. I couldn't have asked for more.

I'll start posting more details about the trip soon, but for now, at least my Flickr is updated. Just as I had to do at first with the Flickr album for Philadelphia, I haven't had time to name the photos and clean up the album. I will eventually.

Independence Hall | Philadelphia

Did I used to read United States History textbooks on the weekend because I was riveted by every detail of Harrison's presidency? Yes. Did I take two historical tours of Washington, DC with my high school AP History teacher and fellow nerds? Yes. Did I totally win the Constitution Bowl in my AP Government & Politics class? Um, you bet I did. I'm related to Chester A. Arthur and Roger Williams...so blame my DNA. Don't ask me how many times I've seen the musical 1776. Just don't. I'll start singing about congressional incubators and salt peter. No one wants that.

Did I cry during my recent tour of Independence Hall. Sure did. For all the things our founding fathers were not - (and trust me, I worship Howard Zinn's "People's History" and will debunk elegiacally nostalgic myths surrounding those infamous men as quickly as any radically-left critic) - they were brilliantly creative and amazingly optimistic. I've prattled on in this blog before about the mind-blowing experiment that is America and our unique brand of representative democracy, but I will say it again: I love the idea of America.

I argue with our leaders and I question the use and abuse of their authority and I fight for everyone's right to join in that argument because I believe in this experiment; the ever-shifting experiment that is government of the people, by the people, for the people. I continue to fight because I want this country to be all that it can be and we do not yet live up to our own creed: All [persons] are created equal and endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights; among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

It fascinates me...

...endlessly. How did they live? Who did they love? What did their neighbors think of them? What were their secrets and their heartbreaks? What made them happy?

Christ Church Burial Ground, Philadelphia

Christ Church Burial Ground | Philadelphia

I. Love. Cemeteries. Always have. Imagine how excited I was to visit the burial ground of Christ Church (founded 1695) in Philadelphia. The oldest (known) grave is marked 1721! Benjamin Franklin is buried there, as well as many famous founding parents (fellow history buffs: click here for details).

It is tradition to throw coins on Frankilin's grave...a penny saved, right? I struck up a conversation with the grounds keeper as he was cleaning up for the evening and they were preparing to close (I was trying to stay there as late as possible and hoping it would get as dark as possible before they kicked me out. I only made it to dusk...). I forget the exact figure, but he told me that they collect thousands and thousands of dollars each year; all from pennies, nickles, and assorted foreign coins being thrown on the grave. A non-profit organization maintains the burial ground and so it's all donations, in their mind, to keep up the grounds and run their education programming. Very interesting. I wish I could remember how much he told me they collect each year.

Cherry Blossoms & Trolley Cars | Philadelphia

Public Art | Philadelphia

I know it must seem like my posts are jumping around all over the place (because they are), but I have a few more photos I want to share from Philadelphia. Once I wrap that up, I'll start posting about Portland. I have some great photos from Portland, Woodburn, and Silver Falls Park - so hopefully I'll get around to that sometime soon. In the meantime...the last bits of Philly...which is forever endeared to me as a city full of great murals, sculptures, and public art installations that sneak up on you and delight!

Only time for a quickie

I'm sitting in the Phoenix airport and my flight is just about to board. I've been passing the time by tweaking the photos I took throughout this week. I'm sure I'll eventually get around to real posts about this trip (once I can wrap up Philadelphia and get through Portland...), but for now I at least want to share this particular photo. I took it at Camelback Spa. There's something so antique and wild west about it. I'm in love with it.

Photographic Evidence

Just in case you thought I was joking in my last post,
re: the whole seventh-circle-of-hell bit.

On the Road Again | Scottsdale, Arizona

Back on the road.

1 week.

2 conferences.

3 presentations.

4 Camelback Spa treatments.

I'm not at all a fan of hot weather. 70ish is about where I tap out. So guess what? Phoenix issued an "extreme heat warning" this morning that lasts until tomorrow night. When Phoenix issues a warning about heat, you can rest assured you've slipped into the seventh circle of hell. And there is no escape.

As I write this it is 11:38pm and 99 degrees outside. It peaked at 110 this afternoon. It is going to be 108 tomorrow. The 10:00pm local news people were completely loosing their minds. "First Time in Phoenix History!!" was flashing across the screen throughout the entire weather segment. Gee, how fortunate I was here to experience this historical occasion of record heat. You can be sure that every single moment I don't absolutely have to be in a meeting or giving a presentation, you'll find me floating in the pool...just. trying. to. survive.

Summer of Love

Blame the Libra influence, but I'm more of a fall person; mild temperatures, colorful mountains, crisp evenings and rain storms, scarves and knee-high boots and flirty jackets, roller blading in the park...you get the idea. However, I now have two very good reasons to be very excited about summer.

Forget everything you've heard on the radio. Until you experience this man live, you. have. no. idea. As if his painfully perfect loveliness isn't enough to get me through the awful burden that is a long hot summer...

Can she be hotter? No. No, she can't. Can I think of a better way to celebrate summer solstice? No. No, I can't.

Find that train ticket we lost...

I uploaded my Saltair photos to Flickr this afternoon and when I saw the photo below, I realized how much I like it and what an emotional response I have when I see it.

A bit of inspiration from Ani DiFranco's beat poem, "Self-Evident"

i'm looking out over my whole human family
and i'm raising my glass in a toast

here's to our last drink of fossil fuels
let us vow to get off of this sauce
shoo away the swarms of commuter planes
and find that train ticket we lost
'cause once upon a time the line followed the river
and peeked into all the backyards
and the laundry was waving
the graffiti was teasing us
from brick walls and bridges
we were rolling over ridges
through valleys
under stars
[...]
and then standing out on the platform
and feeling the air on my face

give back the night its distant whistle
give the darkness back its soul
give the big oil companies the finger finally
and relearn how to rock-n-roll
yes, the lessons are all around us and a change is waiting there
so it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets
and clear the air

The Grannies. The Ghetto. And me.

No, you're not in a museum. You're in my living room. What you are seeing, kids, is a television model that pre-dates the 327" plasma HD, a program called "Antiques Roadshow" on an analog station known as the Public Broadcasting Service, an external antena (once referred to as "rabbit ears"), and a digital converter box. Because that's how important television is to me.

For valid and understandable reasons, the FCC has decided to roll the country's airwaves to digital-only by February 2009. This means that the one to five hours of PBS that I watch each week will soon turn to fuzz and then what would I do on Friday nights without "Washington Week" and Bill Moyers? You wanna know the best part? I totally bought this converter box with a government issued $40 coupon. That's right. The grannies. The ghetto. And me.

Random Surprise | Artsy Cup O' Joe

Philadelphia Convention Center

Two Culinary Musts | Philadelphia

(So it's a lame chicken version of the iconic cheese steak, but give this herbivore a break. When in Rome...)

Word.

To Muffin | An entire kingdom of condoms

It's not every day you see giant plastic sperm swimming, or flying, through the air above your head. Well, it's not every day in my world anyway. Some of the little guys look quite pleased and yet the few scared faces are a bit unnerving. Not the giant plastic sperm flying through the air, but their upset facial expressions are unnerving. Wait. Sperm with facial expressions? It's just creepy on so many levels.

Details | Elfreth's Alley | Philadelphia

Elfreth's Alley | Philadelphia

As the oldest residential street in the United States, the first home in Elfreth's Alley was built in 1702. There are now 32 houses on this tiny (16 feet wide) street. To say that it's charming doesn't begin to describe it. Minus the one home used by the non-profit Elfreth's Alley Association (for a gift shop and tour), all homes on the street are private residences. I can't imagine how expensive it is to live there now, but back in the day Elfreth's was a completely average working class factory neighborhood with multiple immigrant families crammed in small spaces. The website is worth visiting and the history of the alley is fascinating. Check it out and enjoy a sampling of the photos I took during my morning in the alley.

Reading Terminal Market | Philadelphia

Established in 1893, Reading Terminal Market is my ideal grocery shopping experience (fresh, colorful, local, organic choices, social/interactive). My hotel in Philadelphia was across the street from the market and I was in there at least twice each day. The as-for-now repressed urbanite in me leapt for joy as she imagined herself stopping by the market each night, on foot and with her eco-friendly totes, on her way home to her once-derelict-warehouse-now-hip-loft, to pick up ingredients to make dinner before the guests arrive at 8:00 (because who doesn't want to live in a Woody Allen film?).