Travels with Dad: Edison Museum

The gentleman to your left, his likeness forever cast in stainless steel, is Thomas Alva Edison. The man was an inventor and came up with patents for 65 years straight; 1,093 in all. The tree you see in the background is a banyan tree, a gift from Harvey Firestone, planted there in 1925 and flourishing 88 years later.

Edison is most well-known for inventing the light bulb but he created oh, so much more. There is a fairly well-researched Wikipedia entry here, for those who want to read more. Some of Edison's inventions my father and I witnessed today were the coffeemaker, curling iron, toaster, phonographs (the grandfather of the music CD, kids), mimeograph (the ancestor of the copy machine most well known by the brand name Xerox), cement, baby furniture, rubber from plants, batteries, and a high-quality iron ore.

And those are just the ones I can remember.

Since both Dad and I grew up in Michigan, we felt an affinity for Edison, as he grew up in Port Huron, Michigan. He fell into the telegraphy business, but his entrepreneurial spirit had blossomed before that. His first patent was for an electric voting machine, to help the legislators in Congress cast votes more quickly and easily. This was, of course, the *last* thing they wanted to do and so it was a commercial failure. One historian on film at the museum suggested that was Edison's best legacy: that failure is often a prerequisite for success; picking yourself up and trying again.

The first big hit of Edison's was the phonograph. The thought that sounds could be captured on metal (he used tin foil at first) and then replayed was from so far out in leftfield at the time that Edison was dubbed, "The Wizard of Menlo Park" (his lab was in Menlo Park, New Jersey). The phonograph to the right was built in 1904 and we heard a demonstration where it still sounded pretty dang good. The tinfoil - which tore far too easily - was eventually replaced by a hard waxy substance called "blue amberol," from which the cylinder here is made. The motor ran off a spring that you hand-cranked with the device seen on the right. There was no volume control, so to soften the sound coming out of the horn, people would stuff a bit of cotton - or a wadded up sock - down the horn to quiet it (this was also demonstrated for us). And that, gentle reader, is where the expression, "stuff a sock in it" originated.

 Eventually Edison switched to the 12-inch plastic round disc we know as the "Long-Playing Album" (or LP), because his main competitor - Victrola - had started using them. The advantage to the disc was that you could flip it over and record a second song on the back. The technology was improved until you could get up to 40 minutes of music on each side, instead of 3-4 minutes.

Ultimately, that's what Edison really became good at doing - improving his own inventions. As he grew older, the demands of his fame, and his family (which his second wife sensibly insisted he attend upon) took away much of his time from inventing and the world's technology was changing around him so fast that he couldn't keep up and lacked the energy to try. So even though he built a laboratory that was 10 times larger than his original, he never really struck out onto new ground.

Interestingly, Edison was nearly deaf. He had to rely on the ears of others to fine-tune his recording devices. Once, he had a phonograph placed into this wood frame, where he would actually bite the corner (see the photo) and feel the vibrations of the music to make sure they were being reproduced.

By the way, if these pictures aren't crystal clear, chalk it up to the fact I'm using my cell phone. It's a pretty good camera (Samsung Galaxy S-II), but not as good as, say, a *real* digital camera, like the one my father uses.

Speaking of cameras - oh, wasn't that smooth? - Edison began experimenting with motion pictures in 1888. So yeah, he sort of invented Hollywood, too.

To accommodate his new invention, he built the world's first soundstage and movie studio - in West Orange, New Jersey. It was built on a circular railroad track and both sides of the roof opened so the interior could be flooded with natural sunlight.

 Edison's work ethic was incredible. He thought himself no higher than his workers - here you see him punching the clock, like everyone else - and on this particular day, if you could see the plaque below the photo ... it was his 74th birthday.

Wow.

His last project in life started in 1929. Edison, Harvey Firestone, and Henry Ford  realized that the country imported nearly all of its rubber, a critical component to all of their businesses (Edison used rubber in the manufacture of battery cases). And realizing that the rubber supply could be cut off and was out of their control, they began searching for ways to make rubber right here in the United States. The three of them created the Edison Botanical Research Laboratory, each contributing $25,000 in start-up costs. Edison went to work testing different plants for a potential rubber source. He tested more than 17,000 varieties, finally settling on the goldenrod weed as the best potential source. At the time, it grew to about six feet, and approximately 4% of the leaf would yield rubber.

Through cross-breeding and hybrid pollination, Edison created a variety of goldenrod that grew to 12 feet, and 10% of the leaf would yield rubber. In 1930, Congress rewarded him by naming this new hybrid variety after him, calling it the Solidago edisoniana, but before it could move to the mass-production process, DuPont discovered a way to make artificial rubber, calling it neoprene. The laboratory remained in operation until 1937, six years after his death.

     

Travels with Dad: Hemingway House

Today I'm going to take you on a virtual tour of the Ernest Hemingway Home in Key West, Florida. Of course, you can get a much better one here, but it won't be nearly as personal. Heh.

Key West is celebrating their *500th* anniversary. You read that correctly. The island was settled in 1513. Three-and-a-half centuries later a former ship captain-turned-merchant named Asa Tift built this home (in 1851). It has stood for more than 160 years with no hurricane damage. The reason? Asa built the walls out of 18" thick limestone blocks. He quarried the blocks from the property the house sits on. What did he do with the hole he made? Turned it into the only basement in Key West. And it's a dry basement. Why? Because Asa built this home on a "hill." The Hemingway House is a whopping 16 feet above sea level. The average for the rest of Key West is 5 feet above sea level.

The house was purchased by Ernest Hemingway and his wife, Pauline (nee Pfeffer), in 1931 by paying the $8,000 back taxes owed. By then the house needed major renovations and Pauline - a former fashion editor with Vogue magazine in Paris - undertook the task with relish. The first thing she did was get rid of all the ceiling fans. She thought they were tacky. And she replaced them with all manner of chandeliers. Some very fancy, some that looked like they belonged over a pool table.

The couple wanted a large bed, but in the '30s, the king-sized bed hadn't been invented yet. So they made one. Problem? No king-sized headboard. The couple solved the problem by adapting this piece you see here to the right ... it's the gate from a Spanish monastery.

During the renovation, they also added a second floor bathroom. The first one in Key West. They were able to do it by adding a pair of I-beams to the ceiling and putting a 500-gallon cistern on the roof to provide water for flushing and bathing. Worked great during the rainy season....

Hemingway was given a six-toed (polydactyl) cat by a local ship's captain, which he named "Snowball." There are now 45 cats on the property (all of whom are used to people and quietly oblivious of them), and all of the cats are supposedly descendents of Snowball. They are all six-toed cats or carry the six-toe gene. Toby here, is an example. He was asleep on the bed above as we walked through the room. You can see the sixth toe - it resembles a thumb - on his front left paw.

The cats are cared for extensively by staff and a local veterinarian. There is even a cat cemetery on the property.

In 1938, Hemingway went to Europe for 10 months, and Pauline decided to surprise him by putting in a pool. It was the only pool within 100 miles. The cost, however, was exorbitant. Pauline spent $20,000 on the project. When Hemingway came home, he angrily told Pauline, "You've taken all my money. You might as well get the last cent." And he took a penny out of his pocket and ground it into the still-wet cement. You can still see it there.

This final picture is, basically, of a urinal. A local bar was doing some renovations and Hemingway saw an old men's urinal laying there. He was struck by the idea that it would make an ideal watering trough for the burgeoning cat population on the property. Pauline was, needless to say, less than thrilled at finding a man's toilet in her backyard. So she tried to dress it up by adding colorful mosaic tile to the sides and capping it off with a large Spanish olive jar brought home from one of their trips abroad.

Hemingway divorced Pauline in 1940 and married journalist Martha Gellhorn. You may have seen this all detailed in the recent HBO special. The house remained in Pauline's care and when she passed in 1951, it reverted to the Hemingway family. When Hemingway committed suicide in 1961, the family put the estate up for sale and it came into the hands of the philanthropical organization that runs it as a tourist attraction today.

Traveling with Dad

Dad, if you read this, forgive me. I am perhaps giving away too much, and some of it you may not find complimentary. But know that I think you are a great man, and I only hope to be considered as wonderful by my own children. When I think of what my life will eventually look like without you in it, I am bereft. The thought makes me feel like a ship lost upon the waters without a captain. Remember that as you read the next few paragraphs.

For the rest of you, here are the five things I've learned if you want to travel with my Dad.

1. Be prepared to live out of a suitcase. Dad is something of a vagabond when he goes on vacation. A tumbleweed. When he travels, the man travels. He rarely stays in one place more than a few hours or overnight. We generally travel day-by-day, targeting a place to be by dinner, which means we then usually spend 6-7 hours a day inside a car and watch the world go by, snapping photos as we go. He drives in the mornings, and I take the wheel after lunch, when his energy is beginning to flag. The upside is that we cover more ground than most people and see more sights in a day than many see in a week. It's certainly a change of pace from how I usually travel, and it is occasionally exhausting, but I wouldn't trade the time with Dad for anything. To be fair, all I would have to do is give the word and we'd stop and stick and stay for a day or two, exploring a place, but so far I haven't had the heart to detour Dad's traveling bug. For Dad, getting to a place is just as important as seeing what's there.

2. Traveling with Dad sometimes means "Adventures in GPS Programming." Occasionally Dad will program Shortest Route into the Global Positioning System (GPS), instead of Fastest Route. Usually this is by accident, but sometimes we do it intentionally. Setting your GPS for Shortest Route is about the same thing as saying, "I want to get there, but I want to see every backwood, neighborhood, county road, train crossing, and two-lane track in between where I am and there." We have literally gone through neighborhoods where I did not feel safe and where the road has gone from blacktop to gravel to dirt road and back again. It's the scenic route, for sure.

3. Traveling with Dad requires the ability to sleep through a snore storm. Dad snores. Saws logs. Runs a buzz saw. Sounds like a flatulent pig tying balloon animals. And he goes to bed long before I'm ready to hit the sack. Usually. In the end, however, this all works out because when it comes to snoring, I fear I am just as bad. Possibly worse.

4. Traveling with Dad means putting up with the occasional awkward moment. Dad is 80 years old, pushing 81. This means he grew up in a completely different era than the one in which we find ourselves. Some of Dad's social mores - completely acceptable by society in an earlier time - are now considered prejudicial. Sometimes they truly are prejudices, but ones he has picked up and learned through hard experience. To his credit, he does his best to set these aside and deal with everyone he meets honestly and fairly, and it is only when they prove his prejudices that I hear them pop out. And oh, he does like to call people when we stop at a restaurant. And because he's been partially deaf for most of his adult life, he's a loud talker on the cell, which garners us the occasional nasty glance. But really, this minor social faux pas is ridiculously easy to ignore.

5. Speaking of awkward moments, traveling with Dad means frank and open discussions about bowel movements. And that, gentle reader, is all I will say about that.

My father deals squarely with strangers, and is extremely generous to his loved ones. This is our third trip together, and Dad foots 99% of the bill each time we go. He is still smart as the proverbial whip, he is funny (and punny) and never fails to say a table grace that moves my heart, no matter where we are, or what manner of repast is set before us.

I hope I grow up to be just like him. Mostly (I'm fond of what hair is left.)

+++++

Mark's Musings is published on a periodical basis - right now on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - but that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/baldmark. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761.

Lent, 2013

Ash Wednesday, 2013. The beginning of the Lenten season, which will run 40 days (not counting Sundays) through Easter, which falls on March 31 this year.

Some people give up something for Lent. Common items are coffee, or chocolate. One friend of mine gives up cake and cookies, I think, two of her favorite sweets.

Others add something. They do something special or different for Lent. Read more Scripture. Help out at a soup kitchen. Fast for lunch and spend the time in prayer.

I'm sure that over the years I've mentioned my view on Lent. I see it as a personal "40 days in the wilderness" -- all right, a spiritual wilderness -- to prepare for Easter. To make certain your spiritual house is in order, that you may fully partake of the depth and height of Holy Week and it's joyous culmination in the celebration of Christ's resurrection at Easter.

This year I'm beginning Lent on the road - as I write this, I'm in Florida with my father on another road trip together, our third since Mom passed away. Yesterday was not only the end of Mardi Gras and Fat Tuesday, it would have been Mom and Dad's forty-second wedding anniversary were she still with us. I'm glad that Dad didn't have to spend that day alone.

I'm not sure if we'll do anything to set tomorrow apart from our normal routine, but I'd be interested in your thoughts.

+++++

What do you do - or not do - for Lent?


Mark's Musings is published on a periodical basis - right now on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - but that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/baldmark. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761.

Miscellaneous Monday On the Road

Hey, all ... I'm sitting in a motel in Athens, Alabama, on the road to Florida with my Dad, as I mentioned last time. So today won't be anything specific, just some random observations as I spent 10 hours in a car today.

Goodbit: First off, there's good news! In 2009, I blogged about a study that suggested global warming was just a natural cycle of the environment. Now there's a study that is nearly proof of that theory. The hole in the ozone is healing! (See picture at left and follow the links.)

+++++

Daughterbit:Secondly, here's a bit of something my daughter and her friend Jordan (also known as "Daughter #2") taught me while we had supper at a fast food joint last night. If you take the little paper ketchup cups and stretch them out at the top, they will hold, like, twice as much! I was pleasantly flabbergasted by this simple and effective tip. Now I will do it all the time. (I took the photo at lunch today. Dad and I eat cheap lunches on the road. Don't hate me.)

+++++

Dadbit: Here's a tidbit Dad taught me today. In the photo below, see where the sign on top - the one that says, "Exit 227" - is located? Over on the right side of the sign? That's a hint. That's the state telling you that the upcoming exit is on the right side of the road. Exit # signs at the top left indicate the exit will be on the left (of course). Exit signs in the middle generally mean your exit isn't the next one, it's just giving you a heads up on what number exit you'll need.

+++++

Mark's Musings is published on a periodical basis - right now on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - but that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/baldmark. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761.

The Real Lower Peninsula

By virtue of the fact that Michigan juts out into the midst of the Great Lakes, we are a state known as a peninsula. The word "peninsula" is a Latin portmanteau, or a combination of two words. Paene, meaning "almost," and insula, meaning "island." Michigan actually has *two* peninsulas ... the Upper Peninsula (or "Da U.P., eh?") and the Lower Peninsula, wherein I reside.

But anyone with half a brain looking at a map of the United States would clearly see that the real lower peninsula of this country is, in fact, Florida.

And that's where I'm headed for the next couple of weeks. Yes, it's another road trip with Dad. This time to see friends, family, and basically just bum around somewhere warm that didn't just have half a foot of snow dumped on it. By virtue of my postal retirement, I'm available, I'm ready, and I'm willing; a good combination.

So look for the next few blog posts to be about the road trip, and yes, I'll try and upload a picture or two. For now, however, here are some facts about Internet use in 2012, gathered from Royal Pingdom.

THE INTERNET, CIRCA 2012

• 144 billion e-mails were sent every day.
• Of these, 61% were considered to be "non-essential."
• Google's G-Mail is the #1 e-mail program, with 425 million users.
• Just over 50% of all spam was about pharmaceuticals.
• There were 634 million websites.
• 51 million of these were new last year.
• 48% of the Top 100 blogs are on WordPress. (This blog uses Google's Blogger.)
• Google is the #1 web property in the United States, with 191 million visitors.
• There were 100 million ".com" domains at the end of the year.
• At just over 32%, GoDaddy is the largest domain name registrar in the world.
• There were 2.4 billion Internet users in 2012.
• Almost half of that number are in Asian countries.

• The U.S. has the greatest access to the Internet (see chart).
• Brazil is the most active country on Facebook.
• 47% of Facebook users are female.
• There were 300 million new photos added to Facebook every day.
• Facebook - started for the college crowd - now has an average user age of 40.5 years.
• Twitter has 200 million active users.
• There were an average of 175 million "tweets" sent every day in 2012.
• Google's Chrome is now the #1 web browser in use.
• There were 5.3 billion cell phones in use last year.
• 1.3 billion of those are smartphones.

+++

Mark's Musings is published on a periodical basis - right now on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - but that may change without notice. Find me on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/baldmark. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761.

Word Rescue

You know how every year this or that group comes out with their annual list of words that should be banned, or phrases we never want to hear again? (I believe I have run those type of lists. Here. And here.)

Well, the clever folks at Wayne State University - just a click of the big hand south of my home - issue annual lists of words that have fallen out of favor and deserve a second chance.

Words like:
Cerulean ... Dragoon ... Mawkish ... Natter

These are words, say the WSU Word Warriors, that are "some of the English language's most expressive - yet regrettably neglected - words."

You can find the complete list, with definitions, here.

+++

WORDS THAT MAKE MY STOMACH PLUMMET
As seen in "The Writer's Almanac"
by Mira McEwen

Committee Meeting.     Burden Of Proof.
     The Simple Truth.          Trying To Be Nice.
Honestly.   I Could Have Died.     I Almost Cried.
         It's Only A Cold Sore.
It's My Night.       Trust Me.       Dead Serious.
I Have Everything All Under Control.
              I'm Famous For My Honesty.
     I'm Simply Beside Myself.           We're On The Same Page. 
         Let's Not Reinvent The Wheel.
For The Time Being.    There Is That.
              I'm Not Just Saying That.
I Just Couldn't Help Myself.                   I Mean It.

+++

Mark's Musings is published on a periodical basis - right now on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - but that may change without notice. Sliding your mouse all the way to the right where you see that sliver of black will get you a few more links and ways to follow me and/or find out when a new post has been published. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761.
 

Super Bowled Over?

(Remember to click the title above to read the entire post!)

The Baltimore Ravens defeated the San Francisco 49ers in yesterday's Super Bowl. I admit that I was pulling for the Ravens, but only because they had Michael Oher playing for them and I greatly enjoyed the movie about his early life, "The Blind Side."

But enough about the game. Let's talk about the commercials. Because, really, that's the big draw for this event, am I right? Ad Blitz has them all up on YouTube here.

On the whole, I was disappointed. We generally gather together with friends and the only time everyone is paying attention to the television - as there are many, many folks at these things who couldn't care less about the game - is when the commercials come on. You can tell by the crowd reaction which ones are hit and which ones miss. It felt like there were a lot more misses this year.

Most of the typical ad strategies were represented: the "aww" ad featuring the Budweiser Clydesdale. Bud is even sponsoring a "name the pony" contest via Twitter. Then there's the put-a-lump-in-your-throat patriotic ad. Last year it was Clint Eastwood, this year it was one narrated by Oprah Winfrey for a combined Jeep/USO ad. There's usually some kind of "sex sells" ad, but this year was notoriously light on those (thankfully). The closest one was probably the Axe astronaut ad. There's generally a cute babies or cute animals ad ... I think Kia cornered the market on both in one commercial this year. 

There's always at least one ad that makes you scratch your head and wonder why any company would blow $3 million on *that* ... for me this year it was the one from Mio featuring Tracy Morgan. Speaking of which, there are always ads that feature celebrities; sometimes these click (as in the Best Buy ad featuring Amy Poehler), and sometimes they don't (see the near-unwatchable Bud Light ads featuring Stevie Wonder or the Samsung ad with Paul Rudd and Seth Rogen, with a LeBron James cameo).

Though there were several ads that I thoroughly enjoyed, for me the one that I'm remembering best is this ad for the Hyundai Sonata Turbo:



THOUGHT TO CHEW ON: Experts tell us that watching a 2-hour movie filled with violence and profanity has no discernible effect on our behavior. If that's true, why do these companies pay more than $3 million (plus some rather large production costs) on something that lasts only 30 seconds ... all in the interest of changing our behavior?

So which commercial(s) did you like?

The Blog Returns!

(Click the title above for full post.)

So. Yeah. That happened. The Postal Service offered a VER, or "Voluntary Early Retirement," to qualified personnel. I qualified, and I accepted their offer.

At just 55, I'm much too young to think of myself as retired ... but then again, a few months back some kid working the counter at McDonald's gave me the senior discount on a cup of coffee, without my asking for it, so ... maybe I'm not too young?

Hmmm. Maybe I *am* too young, but look old enough to be retired?

Ugh. I don't think that's any better.

Anyway, it's a brave new world for me and so far the only thing I've done with my eight extra hours each day is sleep 'em away and spend even more time exploring the World Wide Web and playing Facebook games. But I will choose to be okay with that aimless "me time" for a bit. No need to rush into anything new, I suppose.

My father and I will be heading off to sunny Florida in just over a week. Hopefully I can blog a little about that from the road.

Eventually I'll be structuring the blog back into the old "Mark's Musings" three-part format of an interesting slice of life, a joke, and a bit of trivia or wordplay ... but I'll probably start slowly -- three times a week, say -- rather than daily.

As the modern proverb goes, I don't know what the future holds, but I know Who holds the future. So like the character of Mr. Henslowe, the theater owner in the movie, "Shakespeare in Love," I don't know how everything will work out -- it's a mystery -- but I know it will all come out fine in the end.

Tune back in Monday for another installment.

Mark's Musings is published on a periodical basis - right now on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays - but that may change without notice. Sliding your mouse all the way to the right where you see that sliver of black will get you a few more links and ways to follow me and/or find out when a new post has been published. This blog is considered to be a digital periodical publication and is filed as such with the U.S. Library of Congress; ISSN 2154-9761.

The Road to Nova Scotia (continued...)

Okay. So where was I?

Oh, yes. We left Concord, New Hampshire and began coming down out of the mountains, toward the sea. One final word on the Adirondack Mountains we left behind us. A travel brochure I picked up informs me that Adirondack National Park has over six million acres, is one mile high, holds 30,000 miles of streams, 1,000 miles of rivers, 3,000 ponds and lakes, and 2,000 miles of trails.

It's a big place. And very big with hikers and bikers and all manner of nature enthusiast. My father, who will be 80 years young at the end of this trip, no longer qualifies for any of those activities. But we cheered them on as we motored up and down those big, big hills.

We arrived in Portsmouth, New Hampshire before noon and stopped at the re-created village of Strawbery Banke, which was the original name of Portsmouth. And just goes to show how spelling has changed over the years. Here there were a good many houses restored to their late 1700s, or 1800s, or even early 1900s condition. The big difference, however, was the houses were only restored ... not moved. Every single house sat where it originally had back in the day. We walked through the very same ground that those settlers did when the town was just a small port - so small the shipping yard was called "Puddle Dock" - and enjoyed the weight of history as we moved through each home's exhibits. (The picture above is my Dad with one of the "characters" of Strawbery Banke - Sarah Goodwin, the mayor's wife, who kept a lovely Victorian garden.)

From there it was across the river and on to meet one of Dad's chat room friends near Rockland, Maine.

As always find photos of the trip at my Facebook fan page here. Click "Photos" and then "The Road to Nova Scotia."

Technical Difficulties

Yes, that's me, looking slovenly and unkempt. Hey, I'm on vacation. I may be underdressed, but I make up for it by being overeducated.

Anyway, on our long journey east, my laptop keyboard decided to stop working three days into the trip, which makes it  extremely difficult to blog anything. I am currently using my tablet, but it doesnt have the functionality or utility of my laptop, so posts will be limited by the availability of hotel computers. Sorry, everyone.

After my last post....
We wound up spending the night in Rutland, Vermont. While there, we browsed the Norman Rockwell Museum. Wow, was that guy prolific. And good. Eventually I will have some pictures up over on my Facebook fan page, but not until I get to an actual computer instead of a glorified smartphone.

From there we made our way over to Concord, New Hampshire, stopping at the home of Crowley Cheese aong the way. It's really good cheese made in an old farmhouse that looks like it's about to fall down. Maybe that's part of the charm.

The major paved arteries through Vermont and New Hampshire are vertical - they run north to south. So when you want to cross these states horizontally, you have to take winding, twisting and often narrow state highways through the mountainous terrain.

The benefit of doing that, however, is that around a very many corners you are surprised by joy. Vistas of green scenery with layers and levels of mountains, trees, and greens so deep they make you want to take your shoes off and run barefoot through them open up. Roll over a hilltop and here's a house on your left or right with manicured and landscaped lawns that look like they belong on the cover on a magazine. It's absolutely gorgeous out here.

ADK and Beyond

"ADK" is what the locals here in New York call the Adirondack State Park and associated mountains.

We left the little town of Oswego this morning and made our way through upstate New York and up into the Adirondack, or Green, Mountains. We programmed Dad's GPS unit to take the shortest route (not the fastest), which quite often leads you on merry adventures through back roads you'd never normally see, and that's what happened today.

We followed winding, twisting, snaking little roads that in some places could hardly be said to have two lanes, and sometimes went through trees so thick the sun seldom hit the forest floor. It's the kind of road that when you see a sign like this:

You think to yourself, "Oh good, I can speed up."

There is one little town - the picture at the top of the post is from just outside of it - called Newton Falls, and it struck me as the town that time (and most of civilization) has forgotten.

There is a decrepit, blighted traffic roundabout, of all things, just before you get to the main street in Newton Falls and we didn't exit it correctly and immediately the GPS piped up in careful cautionary tones, "Warning! No GPS data for this location. Proceed cautiously!"

So if not even Google knows where you're at, you are darn close to being lost. But we backtraced our steps, made the proper turn, and continued on our way.

Our next stop was Lake Placid, New York. The village here hosted both the 1932 and the 1980 Winter Olympics. I got the strong sense the place has been mostly resting on its laurels since then. The one bookstore in town was closed up and out of business, which I always find a sad sight and poor omen for a place and its people.

The highlight of our stop was lunch at a Howard Johnson's *restaurant.* A large sign out front said there are only two left in existence. The one here and one in Bangor, Maine. Perhaps we'll get to stop at that one, too. The chowder was delicious!

From there we drove down through the mountains, with Dad snapping photos right and left, and let Ms. GPS - whom I shall never doubt again - guide us straight onto the ferry at Essex, New York. It transported both us and our trusty vehicle across Lake Champlain with swift efficiency, and by midafternoon we found ourselves in Vermont.

As always, I have posted a few extra photos on my Facebook fan page. Click  here, and then click the "Photos" link. While you're there, be sure to click that "Like" button, too. Thanks!

Slowly I Turned...

Niagara Falls. Much to my surprise, they turned out to be less than five hours from my home. They look so much farther on a map. And pretty small when you're looking at them from about 770 feet. Which is where I was when I snapped this photo; on the observation deck of the Skylon Tower, which is as high as you can legally go in Niagara Falls without actually sitting in an aircraft. More than 34 million gallons of water rush over the lip of that cliff every single minute until the river starts to freeze in winter.

As I write this, we are at the end of Day 2 on "The Road to Nova Scotia" and I'm sitting in a TraveLodge somewhere east of Rochester, New York. We arrived in Niagara Falls early in the afternoon on Saturday, drove around for quite a bit while Dad related to me how much the area had changed since he was there 20+ years ago. And, indeed, it obviously had. Big high-rise hotel chains are now littered throughout the city. At least two casinos, several additional miniature golf sites - each with its own novelty approach - a Sea World knock off called "Marineland," some kind of "Safari" experience, and several additional museums. There's a section on Clifton Hill that would rival Chicago's "Magnificent Mile," if not nearly that long.

Dad and I are two of 14 million people who come to this city every year. Four of the five Great Lakes drain through the Niagara River and out into the Atlantic Ocean. Lake Ontario is the only one that doesn't, if you were curious. I've posted a mess of additional photos, as I promised, over at my Facebook Fan Page. You can find it here.

Tomorrow we head on up into the Adirondack Mountains, through the Olympic Village at Lake Placid, and then ferry across to Vermont.

I'll keep you posted.

P.S. - The title of this post comes from an old vaudeville act that was most popularly exploited by the Three Stooges. Whenever someone would say, "Niagara Falls," they would turn as one, and say "Slowly I turned, step-by-step, inch-by-inch...and proceed to pummel the person who had uttered the offending phrase." Find an old You Tube clip or Google it for the full story.

The Road to Nova Scotia

 So. Dad and I leave in the morning. We hope to make Niagara Falls by the evening and maybe hang around a bit on Sunday to see what's what and how tourism has changed the place since we were last there. And then on to Nova Scotia.

All in all, Dad and I will drive approximately 2,500 miles over the next 14 days.

I can't imagine what sights we'll see. But I'm excited about seeing them.

Refurbished and Reactivated

...at least temporarily.

This blog came to an ignominious end about a year ago. It started with my Mom entering Hospice, followed about 10 weeks later by her death in June. About a month after that, my schedule took me to three different states and about six weeks of traveling. Most of this is detailed in a previous post.

But then, last fall, my father-in-law passed away.

By then blogging had pretty much slipped away from me and it is a hard habit to get back. I regret that I didn't give more of you a heads-up on what was happening and I thank ALL of you for your patience and indulgence as my life situation kept me tied up and away from the blog.

I'm still not really back. At least not full time. But I did update and refresh and kind of overhaul the blog to get it going again for really just one reason ... you see, in just a few days my Dad and I will be taking another trip. This time for two weeks, and by vehicle, from Michigan all the way out to Nova Scotia and back.

Here's a pic from a couple years back of Dad and I.

I wanted a place to blog about the trip, to post a "picture of the day" kind of thing, and make a space to remember it all and share it with you, my friends, and my family. Dad may be kicking in a few of his thoughts, too.

If you're on Facebook, you'll be able to see more photos of the trip if you "Like" my fan page there. Here's the link.

At the end of our trip, my Dad will be 80 years young. Who knows? This may be the last, greatest chance we'll ever have at spending some really quality time together. I hope not. I pray not. He's a spry old guy and he's forgotten more about life than I may ever know.

I'm sure looking forward to the rest of July, 2012.