Travel

Weekend (Ultimate) Warriors: Toronto, Canada

Oh my sweet. I sure do love Canada. You know, for a neighboring country to the north, we sure lucked out. They could’ve been jerks. Maybe they would’ve thought maple syrup was dumb; maybe they would’ve specialized primarily in stick figures. I don’t know, I’m spitballing. Luckily, Canadians are incredible.

Megan and I have a rich history with Canada. We honeymooned in Vancouver and White Rock, and we find the memories fond. The vibrant and varying terrain. The food. The traffic ticket mailed to us three weeks later. Well, that wasn’t so great. But that’s another story for another time.

SIDE NOTE: We still don’t know who was driving during the red light ticket. But let’s just say it wasn’t me.

After we moved to Rochester, I looked up a map of the Upstate area and discovered we lived right underneath Toronto, opposite Lake Ontario. Pretty neat. We initially didn’t have time nor the funds to visit. Thankfully, we finally made the time, if only 36 hours.

So, without further adieu, here’s the next edition of Weekend (Ultimate) Warriors: Toronto.

Touronto

Without traffic, Toronto is about 2.5 hours from Rochester. After passing through Niagara Falls, we headed onto a highway called “Queen Elizabeth Way,” which is about as Canadian a highway name as I could’ve hoped for.

While driving on the Queen E, after shutting off our cell phone data, we remembered our Garmin GPS is a hyper-patriotic robot who refuses to work outside the States. Further, we forgot to withdraw cash, and we were also without tourist maps and city books. After I suffered a thirty-second mini-freakout in my head, chest, and elbows, I discovered the predicament quite refreshing! Unlike New York City, Cleveland, Ithaca, and anywhere in Rochester (where we use Yelp and mobile apps to tell us how to breathe), Megan and I had to rely on our flesh-harddrives (our brains) and our good ol’ fashioned sense of direction to get us around town. Thankfully, Toronto is one of the best laid-out metropolitan cities I’ve ever explored. (more…)

Weekend (Ultimate) Warriors: NYC!

NYC is a city I’ve been desperate to explore since always. Momentous and classic. Films like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Home Alone 2: Lost in New York beckoned me. Of course, Seinfeld and any Beastie Boys music video played a similar role. It was only a matter time after moving to Rochester that Megan and I would explore the Big Apple.

NYC

NYC is an intimidating beast, especially for first timers. Where do we start? Where do we stay? How on earth do we drive? Thankfully, Megan and I were joined by two experts: my work friends Kevin (yes, another Kevin) and Anthony. Kevin Two grew up in Brooklyn, so we couldn’t have asked for a better hometown tour guide and “city driving” expert.

What Other Kevin didn’t tell me was that he couldn’t drive at night without his glasses. Annnnnd he forgot to grab his glasses. This meant I had to, wait for it, drive into bustling Manhattan on a busy Friday night, first time in NYC.

Was I nervous? Scared? Thrilled? Probably all of the above. But when it came down to it we were fine. See, I was trained in the mean streets of Los Angeles and Hollywood where everyone drives like a maniac (not just the taxis). Manhattan was a juiced up version of that.

I’m happy to report that everyone survived (including my car), and besides a few near death experiences, the ride was surprisingly smooth.

122… 122 1/8? You’re Standing On It, Dude

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Weekend (Ultimate) Warriors: Cleveland, OH

You know Cleveland. Don’t you? The setting for The Drew Carey Show, a rival city for Liz Lemon in 30 Rock, Ted’s hometown from How I Met Your Mother? Yeah, that one. Don’t be fooled, Cleveland is more than a plot device and setting for network TV sitcoms; it is a real town, albeit slightly magical, tucked away in the Midwest (Midwest? Is that what you call it?) on a Great Lake.

Fantastic food, clean city, friendly people, three sports stadiums (in town) and blocks away from each other. Cleveland is wonderful. In fact, it may be one of my favorite cities in America. There, I said it.

Last weekend, my wife, my visiting brother in law, and I traveled to Cleveland for the Rite Aid Cleveland Marathon. I was initially scheduled to run the half marathon with my wife, but my knee decided to be a bastard on me. Since, I have played the role of supporting spouse for my wife who thrashed the Hell out of that half-marathon. Boom! I couldn’t be prouder of her. She was great. Running a half-marathon is hard enough, but doing it by yourself is something I’m not sure I would have the wherewithal to do. Three cheers for my wife!

Among my favorite highlights:

  • The sketchy and delicious Greek food place in the Arcade.
  • Seeing Johnny Cash’s tour bus (see pictures)
  • Losing $5 playing an Airplane (the movie) themed slot machine
  • Morning coffee at Erie Island Coffee Co., a small cafe near the Corner Alley
  • Room service dessert
  • The marathon starting with the theme song from The Drew Carey Show.

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Weekend (Ultimate) Warriors: Ithaca, NY

There is no better way to rev up summer than by leaving your town as fast as humanly possible. My wife and I are thinking, Hey, let’s get of here! So, Upstate, East Coast, we got your number. Holla atcha boi (and girl).

It’s no secret we that don’t necessarily love where we live. However, there are lots of cool places outside of where we live, and since we will probably move back to the West Coast in the near future, we might as well see as much as we can. Therefore, (i.e., because we need to stay sane), we will be leaving as many weekends as we can afford.

My 2014 summer travel wish list: NYC, Toronto, Cleveland, Boston, Vermont, Wash DC, (other suggestions?). We are also planning on a family reunion in Austin, TX and are hoping to fly back to Idaho for at least a week. Needless to say, it will be a busy summer.

This is not a travel blog, I know. To keep everything balanced, I will continue to post linguistic chaos from my niche world. That is, expect some deep, thoughtful posts very soon. Stuff like, what does God truly want from me, if anything? How do I work to bring Christians together under one roof? Whatever happened to Bananas in Pajamas? and Why did Bananas in Pajamas even exist?

But that is neither here nor there. As for now, enjoy the very first edition of “Weekend (Ultimate) Warriors.” You’re welcome, Blogmerica.

Trip #1: Ithaca, NY

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5 Things To Do on St. Pat’s Day (that don’t include drinking & fighting)

Today is my favorite holiday! Hold up, my second favorite holiday; I’m a Halloween fanatic. Third favorite, my third favorite holiday (Flag day).

My Irish blood swims around my veins and spits out through my red hair and pale skin; naturally, I have a love/hate relationship with the holiday which manages to both celebrate and demean my Irish heritage.

St. Patrick’s Day can (and should be) a family holiday. Never mind the drunk parade. Never mind the girls puking in the street and the bros who drink Michelob Ultra out of a skinny can with a coozie. There is more to St. Patrick’s Day than drinking and fighting and acting like an idiot.

Because truth be told, (pause for serious effect), the Irish are the most humble, down-to-earth people I’ve ever met. Their representation deserves some balance. (more…)

Saturday Short: Training Day

The following is flash fiction. Check out my other Saturday Shorts here.

Training Day

Fresh air and midday sun (through glass) taunted lungs, and the mothers and fathers, settled and unsettled; the heavy eye balls; the sleepers in the stalls—all of us—sorted and slightly rocking. Our shoes and briefcases brimmed the aisles, and our mouths coughed. Blind but secure, the train rattled, and what could we do but wait. Care for a cup of tea? Anything. Just bring me anything.

Outside the corn was dead and dry. A man sat in the window seat and was careless to view any of it (us, sanctioned together by wretched fate), staring at his shoes, considering maybe, the asphalt that marked them. “You look familiar” I finally admitted as a gesture.

The musician began. He, like all else, assumed his story was worth telling, and he spoke, and I thought about the birds: free, hungry, singing, and why fly next to trains?

“—not as easy as you think, you know.” Around my age but much richer, he hated his life as much as I hated mine. I bought a few of his records, a decade ago, and once I shook his hand in a parking lot before a gig. He was an asshole.

“Why not quit?” I keep him busy, like a four-year old with a new toy. And I wonder off: free, hungry, singing.

“There’s no career fair for me. No running away. Like a monkey I’m expected…”

If listening is a skill, we must all get it wrong. The man spoke, and I couldn’t care, and when I spoke he didn’t care. Where you out of? he’d say, shortly shifting his attention a couple rows down to a partially unbuttoned blouse on an attendant who bent forward for a piece of trash. (more…)