//nedward.org is the personal weblog of John Niedermeyer, an Editorial Designer at NYTimes.com, living in Brooklyn.
Battle Royale has one of the best plot lines (and fan following):
Ninth grade students are taken to a small isolated island with a map, food and various arms. They have to fight each other three days long until the last one remains and are forced to wear a special collar which will explode when they break a rule.
The Japanese are an absolutely amazing people.
This is a map of where I’ve visited or lived in the United States… This is really jarring, because I haven’t crossed the Mississippi, and I haven’t ventured into the heart of Dixie. I think that says something about me, but I’m not sure what.
Resolution: before I turn 28, (which gives me 2 years), I want to add at least 3 states. One of them must be California… that’s the easy one.
The Causeway
I enjoyed going through my photos of our Miami and the Florida Keys trip in early January.
These photos, along with my trip journal, will help me to always remember it…
NH Prediction: Dean will not win — but, he might become the Comeback Kid of 2004 with a strong 2nd place finish. Where does Kerry go after NH?
Then again, I’ve been wrong before.
On a complete aside, I was up in Concord working for Al Gore 4 years ago, having hauled several cars-worth of Massachusetts college students in tow. Seeing the weather forecast, I don’t regret sitting this one out.
UPDATE - It seems that we jumped the gun — Amanda from the Dolls informs us that “it’s actually not true and we’re still in negotiations”. So, rumors aside, here is a quote from their band diary:
…the band has just agreed to enter into a massive distribution and promotion deal with a large label…
SO, we’ll just have to wait and see.
Everyone’s favorite goth/punk/pop cabaret duo just got signed to Roadrunner Records, reported by Jenna
This is the former all-metal label that eventually put out the first (and best) Sheila Divine LP — so they’ve been good to Boston bands.
I just peeped their new video for Girl Anachronism, which is very cool.
4702, The year of the monkey.
I ordered iLife today… a good distraction from boring work-life, and from the Dean campaign in general. Suddenly I’m not hanging on every headline.
Jason’s writeup sounds pretty cool — I want to make fuzzy rock songs in Garageband … maybe Presley will sing?
Also, I’ve imported my 2000+ photos into iPhoto, which is really good at managing photos, (if not editing them)… hopefully the new version will speed up the app’s response-time.
Well, my predictions were completely off!
I’m not sure what this means… we’ll see what happens in the coming week. With the State of the Union and all its assorted distractions, Dean might come back strong next week in New Hampshire.
Then again, I just saw him scream through his concession speech, and I can’t help but offer this advice: When you’re on television, speak to the people, lay out your agenda. Don’t scream like a monkey, trying to excite the 2,000 kids in front of you… cos they didn’t show up to caucus for you.
I spend much of my time each day reading newspapers and talking to friends about politics, but rarely do I post on the subject. There are some excellent sources that focus on politics and the race for the White house. So, the last thing this country needs is another blogger for Dean.
However, today is the Iowa caucus — a bizarre exercise that makes the Electoral College look downright democratic — so I thought I’d take a few minutes to give my take.
First, the headlines seem to point to Dean dropping off dramatically in the past weeks. I can’t deny this, by the Zogby polls are always a bit dubious. I think Dean will prevail.
So, here’s my predictions:
Is General Clark the wild card? He doesn’t figure in Iowa, but he’s working all alone in New Hapshire…
There is something to be said about all-inclusive vacations! Even with a great airfare deal, my credit card is at…
$1,451.71
It was worth every penny, however.
Last night was cold! I know it’s much colder home in Boston, but Key West shouldn’t be 50 and windy as hell! We spent our second night heading down to Mallory Square for Sunset. I was wearing a wool turtleneck sweater, and was chilly.
Sadly, we walked around the Hilton (which basically took over the waterfront a few years ago), but couldn’t find the Cat Man. We did catch Jeep and Mo and some tumbling/acrobatic group. Not bad, I suppose, but nothing you couldn’t get at Fanueil Hall on a Friday Night.
Drinking was again the goal, but we had such difficulty finding good places to drink. After a drink in some sports-type bar on Duval, which had the Patriots playoff game on, we settled on Key West’s cheesy landmark, the Hog’s Breath. The food is average, the service was terrible (we ordered dinner in the bar), and the music can only be described as awful. D’ya like Dave Matthews or Jimmy Buffet? super.
So, we walked up and down Duval again, and retired around midnight, utterly sober.
In the morning, we took the scooters for a ride again, and then returned them. Then we headed down Route 1, back to Miami.
Meeting Sara in South Beach, we walked along Lincoln Road, browsing the antiques and overpriced clothing shops. We ate at the Nexxt Cafe — which is a bit like the Cheesecake Factory, only you’re stuffed into a hundred tables out on the sidewalk where you can watch the beautiful people and ugly tourists shuffle by. I could tell you what I ordered, but it wasn’t really memorable.
It was nice to see Sara, and escape the Totally Tourist ambience of Key West. Sadly, I’m a city boy. However, you Miami folks honk your horns too much. For now reason. Seriously.
Since our flight is leaving tomorrow at 7:25am, I think we’re going to leave here and find a cheap motel near the airport. End of vacation, and back to work!
Scooters! What else to do in Key West? We headed to Moped Hospital down the street from our Inn, and each rented a scooter for the day. For $40 each, you get to wheel around town helmet-less at 30 mph… quite a lot of fun, even with our little Korean models. Every once in a while, a real motorbike will zoom past us and put us in our place, but it feels liberating to be able to zip around without wearing your feet out. 30-mph feels like pretty fast when you’re flying by bicyclists.
We first headed to the graveyard, which is an odd place. The water table is so high, and the coral rock so hard, that everyone is buried above ground in little cement boxes. There are funny epitaphs, crumbling and new markers… and we noticed, quite a lot of Masonic imagery. There were many of those little compass symbols, 5-petal roses, pentacles (5-pointed stars) — everywhere. This added a little creepy element to the walk through.
Next, we hopped onto the scooters and headed up to Southard St. and Grinnell St., for a Cuban Sandwich and Cafe con Leche at the 5 Brothers. Presley ate a Fritas Cubanas, which was something like a sloppy joe with potato sticks and onion. Both were pretty tasty.
Then, on to the Southermost Point, which is the southernmost point in the Continental United States, if you don’t count the Navy yard gated off to the west. It’s only 90 miles to Havana – much closer than Miami.
Back on the scooters, and we zip back up to Whitehead St. and Truman St. to visit the Ernest Hemingway Home. This is a totally commercialized operation that takes your $10, and herds you into the house for a guided tour. Our guide was Dave, who, though completely taken with his own corny puns and jokes, was utterly inept at dealing softly with inquisitive tourists. A middle-aged woman asked what year the house was purchased by Hemingway, to which Dave theatrically closed his eyes, sighed loudly, and snapped “1931…. Now, does anyone know where I left off?” Then he explained that you may take all the photos and video that you like, but not during his tour. Upstairs, Presley took out her SLR camera to catch two six-toed cats lounging on Papa’s bed, to which Dave reminded her that we are not to take photographs during his tour, all but assuring that he would not be receiving any tip from our wallets.
Still, obnoxiousness aside, it was interesting strolling around the grounds, watching the big cats with their big paws. The cats give the estate a magical quality, prompting Presley to muse, “The Paul Revere House could use some cats…”
After breakfast as Magrove Mike’s in Islamorada, we started heading west. We stopped briefly at the Bahia Honda State Park Beach for some sun and splash. I read, while Presley napped.
Arriving in Key West, we missed the Sunset celebration because I needed to find an Internet Cafe — my boss called me and told me that I had forgotten to submit my timesheet, and if I would like to get paid, I had better do so. So, after the business was taken care of at the Sippin’ Cafe, we checked in the La Pensione Inn on Truman Ave. near Duvall Street. Apparently Harry S spent some time here.
Heading out onto Duvall Street should be an adventure, but we found most of the restuarants and bars to be lacking in patrons — maybe it’s the time of the year. After walking around for what seemed like hours, we settled on Caroline’s Cafe for dinner, because you could sit outside and drink Margaritas and Coronas while watching revelers on the street. God, there are so many old people here!
After downing a few drinks with dinner, (I had the Mahi-Mahi cooked cajun style, Presley had a whole cooked chicken, I kid you not), we decided to hit a few bars. There was the Irish bar, with the village drunks (and no females), and then there was the Karaoke bar next to Crabby Dicks, with Marie behind the bar, and Karaoke’ers belting our Country songs in the back. At least there were some women at this place… Presley did a rousing rendition of Cheap Trick’s I Want You to Want Me, though I think this crowd didn’t appreciate it as much as I did.
What a busy day! We got up this morning, determined to go snorkeling. We’ve learned one thing about Key Largo — there is utterly nothing worth doing in Key Largo besides snorkeling, diving and outdoor activities. We rented a dual kayak, and paddled around the mangroves in the Pennekamp State Park .
And, at 1:30, we took a 38’ Catamaran sailing out to the coral reef, strapped on some fins and masks, and plunged into the 72-degree water to look at fish. Even though 72-degrees sounds like warm water, it’s better to wear a wet-suit, though it will make you look ridiculous. We saw these blue and yellow zebra fish, a foot-long rainbow looking fish, and some gray barracudas who looked unamused. Note for future reference: bring clothes for the sail back to shore, no matter what the cabana boys say in the gray shed.
Following the advice of our Captain (what was his name?), an old former hippie who had been sailing for 22 years, Presley and I headed for Bentley’s, south to MM 83, for dinner. As we arrived, we noticed a man and his daughter that sailed with us earlier in the day — apparently they took the same advice from the Captain. We chatted at the bar with Danielle and Mr. Bernstein from North Carolina. She is a freshman at Virginia Tech, studying chemistry, which was my first major, afterall.
When we were finally seated, we went a little overboard (pun?), and went with 1 dozen steamed clams. Presley ordered a glass of Riesling, and the Grassy Key Lime Yellowtail, and I asked for a glass of Fume Blanc from Sonoma, and the Yellowtail stuffed with crab meat. mmmm… This was definitely the place to eat, though I think Ballyhoo’s has better food, (though, in a much more casual atmosphere).
We passed through Miami Beach — stopping briefly to eat lunch and wander into the shops as it rained. People are very friendly here — even in Benetton! I made Presley take off her shoes and pop into the surf… rain or no rain. One odd thing we noticed about South Beach was the copious numbers of scooters motoring around. Very odd indeed, but it makes perfect sense to own one here, in the sun, where the streets are relatively small and slow. No helmets!
We then headed down towards the Keys, down that crowded strip-mall heaven that is Route 1. We passed by the University of Miami, and I briefly considered what college in such a place would have meant. The strip malls thin out a bit heading south, but they really don’t stop until you cross into the Keys, only to pick up again as you approach Key Largo. We checked into our room at the Westin Key Largo, at MM 97. It’s a beautiful resort in the middle of a sub-tropical forrest. Presley remarked that it was the nicest hotel room she has stayed in.
Consulting our guidebook, The Florida Keys, Joy Williams guided us to Ballyhoo’s, a little shack in the median of the highway near our hotel. Clearly not as attractive to tourists, as it’s not on the water, Ballyhoo’s serves excellent fish. I had the fresh caught Mahi-Mahi, prepared Mensiuere-style, and Presley ordered the Caribbean pan-fried Scallops. And both were two of the most delicious dishes I’ve ever tasted.
//nedward.org is the personal weblog of John Niedermeyer, an Editorial Designer at NYTimes.com, living in Brooklyn.
