Life In A Word

And Then There Were Three

Our daughter-in-law shares photos of her family through an online album titled “And Then There Were Five”. She used to have individual collections for her two girls but once daughter three came along she combined everything into one album. Add her and my son to the equation… “and then there were five”. It’s a phrase I thought about as I passed through the state of Alabama earlier this week. I’ve never been to Alabama but now I can claim that I have. To which I say… “and then there were three“.

In my (almost) sixty-five years of existence I’ve managed to visit 46 out of the 50 U.S. states. None of these visits were intentional, as in “I just want to say that I’ve been there”. Rather, they happened for the usual reasons we find ourselves in states other than the one we call home. Sightseeing. Visits to colleges and universities. Reunions with family and friends. Or simply traveling through one state to get to another. If you identify with any of these reasons, the number of U.S. states you’ve visited may be higher than you think.

Growing up out west in California, my parents recognized the value of a trip to the East Coast to see the sights of Colonial America. They designed a single month-long drive for me and my brothers that accounted for at least fifteen states in and around New England. Since then I’ve managed to visit most of the western states through short driving trips here and there. My wife and I honeymooned in Hawaii. One of my nephews got married in Alaska. And so on. All these years later the only states I haven’t visited are Arkansas, North Dakota, and Oklahoma.

But never mind the leftovers. Today we put the spotlight on Alabama, my most recent “acquisition”. Off the top of my head, here’s everything I know about Alabama:

Montgomery is the state capital (memorizing in elementary school is a beautiful thing).
Auburn University and the University of Alabama are consistently ranked among the best football programs in the country.
Alabama was a legendary country music band.
An Alabama Slammer is a fruity shot made with Southern Comfort.
“Sweet Home Alabama” ranks among the greatest rock songs of all time.

Now then, having just driven from South Carolina west into Georgia, then southwest down “The Yellowhammer State” and on into Florida, here’s everything new I’ve discovered about Alabama:

A good chunk of the state is covered by national forest.
They have a Buc-ee’s travel center.

Let’s be honest; I’m feeling a little rain on my parade of states right now. I mean, virtually every U.S. state has a national forest, right? As for Buc-ee’s, if you’re not familiar with their mega gas stations you will be soon. Buc-ee’s has added larger-than-life dimensions to the term “rest stop”. The convenience store in their Luling, TX location is a world-record 75,000 square feet of retail. The car wash in their Katy, TX location also breaks a world record – 250 feet from one end to the other. In Alabama you have four opportunities to stop at a Buc-ee’s.

To all of its residents, I say Alabama deserves more respect than a walk in the woods or a stop at a glorified gas station. A little online legwork tells me I can opt for the following instead:

Visit the world’s largest space museum, up north in Huntsville.
Raft on North America’s longest mountaintop river, just outside of Ft. Payne in the Little River Canyon National Preserve.
Spelunk in Cathedral Caverns outside of Woodville, including a look-see of a 45-foot stalagmite column nicknamed “Goliath”.
Reacquaint myself with America’s Civil Rights Movement in a multimedia museum in the heart of Birmingham (which is pretty much in the heart of the entire state).
Board the USS Alabama, a World War II battleship turned into a floating museum, docked in a memorial park down south in Mobile.

Okay, Alabama just moved up a few rungs on the ladder of respect, even if my upcoming drive back home only includes more views of the forest and a stop at Buc-ee’s. At least I know somewhere beyond all those trees and gas pumps lies worthwhile attractions. That’s more than I can say about Arkansas, North Dakota, or Oklahoma.

Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Checkmate

For those of you who know the game of chess, the rook (also known as the “castle”) is a powerful piece to have in your corner as things progress. The rook can take out an opponent’s pieces through long strides across the board. More importantly, if all you have left at the end of the battle is your king and a rook, you can still win. It’s the sort of thing I had on my mind as I wrapped up my latest LEGO build: A king (Ludwig II)… his castle (Neuschwanstein)… game over.

Three months ago I spilled 3,455 LEGO pieces onto my home office desk and wondered how they’d all come together to represent the wondrous architecture of the Neuschwanstein Castle in Germany’s Bavarian Alps (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King). Today I can take a step back and admire this completed “cottage”. Well, sort of completed. Don’t judge a book by its fairy-tale cover. Only a handful of Neuschwanstein’s 200+ rooms were ever fleshed out. King Ludwig II himself never lived there, even though Neuschwanstein was designed to be his vacation getaway from nearby Munich.

Bags 21, 22, and 23 – of 23 bags of LEGO pieces – put me fully in the forest of the Bavarian Alps. The castle itself wrapped up two weeks ago, so all that remained was to grow a bunch of centuries-old trees in the immediate surrounds. All that remained… HA! LEGO trees are more involved than you’d think. Start with the trunk, snap on four pieces of branches, then add a bunch of tiny, finger-numbing “leaves” on the ends of those branches, and each tree can consume up to 37 LEGO pieces. Now repeat the process 41 times. No wonder the final chapter took me two weeks instead of one.

Here’s an interesting twist on LEGO models. The Neuschwanstein Castle allows you to “change seasons” with the look. Since we’re in fall right now I’m using trees of gold and brown. Come spring I can replace those trees with fresh ones in varying shades of green. It’s like having the black pieces on the chessboard set up and ready to go, only to be quickly swapped out by the white ones. “Nice move”, LEGO.

If you’ve read these castle-building posts all the way to the end, you know my journey through the chapters of Neuschwanstein was accompanied by the music of movie soundtracks. It’s been an adventure to choose my favorite scores, let alone find them on Spotify or elsewhere. My final choice – the one that brought unbridled joy to all those tree builds – is a forgotten gem.

A Little Romance, the 1979 film with Laurence Olivier in his later years and Diane Lane in her younger, tells a story of young, innocent love, set in the beautiful surrounds of Paris and Venice. It’s a sweet story with unexpected adventures, and Georges Delerue’s Oscar-winning music accompanies every step of the way. The theme song is the flight of a happy flute, while the sadder scenes are the wandering of a lonely mandolin with a background of strings. I never get tired of listening to this one. Alas, the soundtrack to A Little Romance is an almost impossible get. You won’t find it on any of the streaming music services. You’ll have to pay too much for the CD someone hung onto for decades and is now trying to sell through Amazon. Instead, you’ll have to settle for the ten-minute compilation on YouTube I’ve included below. But have a listen anyway. The music will warm your heart and maybe even have you give the film a try.

The completion of Neuschwanstein Castle – once again – brings my interest in snapping LEGOs together to a close. My discretion in choosing these models (and the shelf space in my home office) limits the ones that interest me. Yes, LEGO tempts me with its models of Spain’s Sagrada Familia (12,000 pieces!) and more recently London’s Tower Bridge but neither really appeals to me. Not to worry. LEGO is sure to add new members to its Architecture Series in 2027 and beyond. Before I know it I’ll be spilling out plastic pieces onto my desk again. Until then, as they say, game over.

Running build time: 12:10

Total leftover pieces: 75 (including tree trunks and leaves!)

Soon To Be Crumbs

Fall has arrived around here, even if Mother Nature is reluctant to usher in a new season. Our temperatures will be summerlike for another day or two. Regardless, autumn always brings baking to the forefront of my to-do list. I’ve already cranked out a breakfast pizza (three cheeses!), I’m sure to serve up a pumpkin pie before Halloween, and just this morning I whipped up three dozen gingerbread cookies. But whenever I bake cookies I always find myself thinking, “Should I have just gone to Crumbl instead?”

You know Crumbl, or some other cookie chain just like it. For ten years running Crumbl has tempted impulse buyers with their overly-large, overly-sweet, overly-everything baked goods. Crumbl cookies are so big they’ll sell you a small device much like a pizza cutter so you can share a cookie with friends. But let’s be real – if you’re spending as much on a Crumbl cookie as you would a Starbucks latte are you really gonna share? No, you’ll probably down the entire cookie within thirty minutes of purchase, your only regret arriving somewhere during digestion.

Now for something even harder to digest: Crumbl is on its way out. The clock is close to striking midnight on a company that somehow convinced us five dollars was a reasonable price for a cookie. They’re closing stores in big numbers. Despite the contraction I don’t think Crumbl’s demise is a symptom of the cost of living as much as it is all of us finally emerging from our sugar comas and declaring, “Enough is enough”.

It took me awhile to give Crumbl a try. When we lived in Colorado they opened a store next door to one of our favorite restaurants. For a long time we wondered what the fuss was all about. Then one day we skipped the dessert menu and decided to give the cookies a try. We bought four (for twenty dollars). If I’m being honest they were just okay. Some choices worked (frosted sugar cookie with raspberry jam – yum!) while others didn’t measure up (standard chocolate chip – meh).

Honestly what I remember most about Crumbl was not the cookies, but rather the wait in line to order. While I did I watched the nearby people waiting at the pick-up counter. It didn’t take long to realize most of them were DoorDash drivers, delivering cookies to the college dorms a ten-minute walk from the store. So not only were those students paying big for big cookies, they paid to have them delivered when they could’ve walked off a few of the calories themselves. Can I get a What’s wrong with Americans?

Our daughter embraced the Crumbl craze when she got married in 2022. She ordered two hundred of their “minis”, wrapped them individually in elegant boxes, and placed them next to the dinner plate of each guest at the reception. When the party was over we discovered at least half of the cookies left behind. Perhaps the beginning of Crumbl’s end actually started years ago.

Side note: If you place an order through Crumbl’s website the first decision you’ll have to make is whether to “reject non-essential or accept all cookies”. How appropriate 🙂

Just this week Crumbl announced the closure of seventy-five stores and significant layoffs at its Utah headquarters. The critics are blaming the cutbacks on the failed promotion of “dirty sodas”, another Utah-based product (popular with Mormons and their non-alcoholic ways). I don’t buy it, even though I wouldn’t buy a dirty soda either. I just think we’ve reached our tolerance for high-priced cookies and have moved on to the next comfort-food indulgence trend (like the gelato I wrote about several weeks ago.

The Crumbl store we have here in our small town opened just over a year ago, in the same shopping center as a popular supermarket. People go in an out of the supermarket by the dozens, but I have yet to see any of them wander down the sidewalk to Crumbl. It’s a sad sight when you drive by the storefront: the lone cashier standing behind the counter waiting for anyone to buy a big cookie. Even sadder, it won’t be long before her manager asks her to go into the lobby and lock the front door – for good.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #10 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King

The castle is complete at last, even if the surrounding landscape is not. Bags 19 and 20 (of 23 bags of pieces) focused almost entirely on the completion of the western palas (one of two residential buildings). Not only is this structure much taller than I expected but it’s topped by an intricate roof that consumed a good portion of Bag 20. Dozens of pieces went into the black top of the building you see below.

I also felt like I was building a couple of rocket ships today. Neuschwanstein’s tall, dramatic stair towers start out as long plastic LEGO dowels, onto which you spin circular piece after circular piece. Finally you set the whole assembly upright and snap it into the surrounding castle. Two of Neuschwanstein’s stair towers are located intentionally where the terrain of the ridge below takes a bit of a turn; a very “castle” look.

Sometimes LEGO pieces have a hard time mimicking the small details of a structure. The western palas claims to have “a copper lion atop the court-side gable, while a knight’s likeness is on the outward facing gable, offering a protective touch to the castle.” The knight is up there on the rooftop all right but I didn’t find a “copper lion” anywhere in the bags (let alone in my pile of leftovers).

Hard to fit all of Neuschwanstein into one photo!

The very last step in today’s build was to add thirty-two tree trunks to the landscape. That’s a lot of logs. You have to zoom in on the photo above to see these tiny brown poles but tune in next week, because in a flourish of a finish, we’ll use the final three bags of pieces to top them off with bursts of color.

Running build time: 10:55

Total leftover pieces: 65 (including 2 tree trunks!)

Accompanying movie soundtrack: Pride & Prejudice (2005). Today’s choice was something of an experiment. Pride & Prejudice shows up regularly on “elegant soundtrack” lists but I’ve never seen the movie (let alone read anything by Jane Austen). So I figured, maybe the music will have me wanting to watch the film. The soundtrack includes several classical-sounding piano solos, probably tied to slow, dramatic scenes. You also get a few instances of lively fiddle-playing, probably connected to formal dance scenes. But for the most part the soundtrack had me imagining moments where the camera dwells on a character’s face, and their expression says it all. Will I watch Pride & Prejudice? I just might. After all, any movie that dwells on Kiera Knightley is worth the watch.

Some content sourced from the bonappétit.com article, “The End of Cookie Chains”, and the ksl.com article, “Utah-based Crumbl closes dozens of locations…”.

Local Flavor

On a trip to Philadelphia last weekend to visit family, I was reminded the city is well known for its cheesesteaks (among other things). You’ll find several restaurants claiming to offer “the best” in the downtown area. But my niece – a resident of the city for ten years now – was careful to point out which establishments cater to tourists versus those preferred by the locals. It’s advice someone like me wouldn’t know off the top of my head. At least I knew to call the sandwich a “Philly” instead of a “Philadelphia”.

Sure, no matter where you live it’s referred to as a “Philly Cheesesteak”. But what about the city itself? Calling Philadelphia “Philly” is a privilege reserved for its residents… or so I thought until I asked my niece. “Oh, heck no“, she said. “It doesn’t matter whether you’re a local or not – you always call it ‘Philly’. Call it ‘Philadelphia’ and it’s pretty obvious you’re not from around here.”

Huh. And here I thought city nicknames were reserved for those who actually lived there. Maybe this is Philly’s way of sharing “brotherly love” beyond its downtown streets.

I find it interesting how locals come up with jargon for the places in which they live. It’s a semi-secret language that can only be learned by spending enough time there. When we lived in Colorado Springs the city was never referred to by its full name, but instead by just “The Springs”. (A visitor might wonder why you weren’t referring to adjacent Manitou Springs instead.) Pikes Peak, the mountain forming the majestic backdrop of The Springs, was always just “The Peak”. Garden of the Gods and its famous sandstone rock formations was always just “The Garden”. And so on.

Maybe all of this name-shortening is a nod to the more relaxed world we live in today. Corporations could be said to use jargon as well. Remember when it was “Federal Express” instead of “FedEx”? “McDonald’s” instead of “Mickey-D’s?” Kentucky Fried Chicken instead of “KFC”? Even “Subway” was once known as “Pete’s Super Submarines”. Credit American Express – they might’ve been the original shortener of names. “Amex” has been used since the company’s founding in 1850.

Cities may have their nicknames but I also think I’ve heard a few imposters. Seriously, does anyone refer to San Francisco as “Frisco” when the more common option seems to be “San Fran”? Chicago will always be “The Windy City” to me; not “Chi-Town”. Dallas is too short a word to mess with so you’ll only get “Big D” from the locals on occasion. And more recently I’ve heard “Cali” and “So-Cal” out west but I couldn’t tell you if that’s what the locals go with.

Washington D.C. is “D.C.” whether you live there or not. St. Petersburg just sounds better as “St. Pete”. Oklahoma City is “OKC” just like New York City is “NYC”. I never grew up in Los Angeles but I did grow up in LA… maybe like you grew up in KC, Indy, or Cincy. Where does all of this jargon end? Right here… right now… at the end of this blog post where, now that I think about it, you’re welcome to call me “Dave” instead of “David”.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #9 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King

Do you recall how we added the “Palas” (living quarters) to the castle the last time around? Apparently King Ludwig needed two of these structures. Bags 17 and 18 (of 23 bags of pieces) finished off one Palas and began another – the latter building at the far west end of the castle complex. All of a sudden we’re entering the home stretch of this entire project. Next week’s LEGOs will complete the castle itself, while the following week’s will give it a final flourish of landscape elements.

The “Palas” is the very tall element on the left

As you can see above, Palas #1 has been completed and installed. For the record, “completed” was much easier than “installed”. When you build an element like the Palas separately from the overall model, it’s a delicate process to bring the two together. You have to position the structure just right before you snap it down in amongst the rest of the castle. Easy to illustrate in the instruction manual; not-so-easy to do in reality. My first attempt was a mini-disaster, loosening several pieces from the castle base. My second attempt – mercifully – came together with a satisfying series of LEGO clicks.

Here’s a look at the “Western Palas”, still under construction and destined for the askew foundation you see on the far left of the larger model. Palas #2 includes a two-story balcony for views of the surrounding Alps (the big opening on the top floors of the structure), and a whole lot of living space underneath that was never ever completed. The Western allocates two floors to a “grand throne room”, also never completed. I find it sad, for all of the details of this wondrous castle, Ludwig never sat on his throne, let alone in a throne room from which he would’ve/should’ve performed his royal duties.

Running build time: 9:32

Total leftover pieces: 59 (!)

Accompanying movie soundtrack: Titanic (1997). It wasn’t my plan to go with the epic of the sinking ship, not today nor in any chapter of this build. But the music from Field of Dreams – a favorite movie of mine – just didn’t deliver the goods. Like Chariots of Fire, all you get with Field of Dreams is its theme song followed by random bits of music. Don’t save it to your listening library. But its composer James Horner scored Titanic as well, and for this one the Academy Award was well deserved. Subtract Céline Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” – the song just overlaps the ending credits. The real magic of this soundtrack is in the haunting instrumentals and wordless vocals. The theme song starts with the wailing tin whistle and morphs into the utterly lonely vocals, brought to you by the incomparable voice of Norwegian soprano Sissel. It echoes the despair and futility of it all – literally – which is exactly what Horner intended. Listen to it here.

Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Thinking Inside of the Box

When my wife and I travel we toe the line on the weight limits the airlines impose on baggage. Our suitcases, looking ready to burst, always come in at 48-point-this or 49-point-that on the front counter scale. There’s a sigh of relief when we don’t hit the number where we’d have to pay more. So call it unfamiliar territory when my suitcase was only two-thirds full for a weekend getaway earlier this month. I mean, there was space in there still looking to be filled. I was tempted to throw in the pillow I sleep on just to keep everything from jostling around. It was a dilemma that came back to me just this morning over breakfast.

Allow me to introduce you to one of my favorite foods. Nature’s Path Organic produces grain-based cereals with the rare double-win: they taste great and they’re good for you. Nature’s Path combines exotics like amaranth, quinoa, millet, and spelt, and somehow makes them taste delicious alongside a little fruit and milk. My wife loves their “Golden Tumeric” variety while I prefer their popular “Heritage Flakes”. Sometimes I go with the sweeter “Flax Plus Maple Pecan Crunch”. Trust me, breakfast cereal has come a long way since Kellogg’s Corn Flakes.

What hasn’t changed about breakfast cereal however, is the amount of product you find in the bag when you first open the box. The photo you see here is a source of constant irritation for me. You have a box, a bag, and some cereal. The size of the bag is consistent with the size of the box. So why-oh-why (like my recent suitcase) is the bag only two-thirds full? Why not a) dial up the setting on the bag-filling machine to top things off, or b) reduce the size of the box to match the amount of the cereal?

This is the age-old game manufacturers choose to play with us consumers, of course. As production and material costs rise, they find subtle (or not-so-subtle) ways to make us believe we’re buying the same amount of the same product for the same price. At least Nature’s Path doesn’t swap out their ingredients for some chemical alternative. But they do fill the box with air along with the cereal. Honestly, I wonder if the box was ever completely full.

Here’s another sales ploy. Nature’s Path claims this cereal has a “new look” with the “same delicious taste”. What exactly is the new look (and do I even remember the “old look”)? Did the flakes change shape or size or is it the box that has a new look? More importantly, why would I care about a new look when all I want is the same bowl of cereal I bought last time? What aren’t they telling us here?

Now note the fine print at the bottom right corner of the box. First we have a disclaimer of “fruit shown as serving suggestion”. Followed by “enlarged to show texture”. Both statements let me know that what I see is not what I will get. There is zero fruit in the box. The cereal flakes are not as large as the photo suggests. And for today’s water cooler question, does cereal flake texture make it more likely you’ll buy a box?

Finally – and this one probably goes back to the early days of cereal production – the “serving size” suggested by Nature’s Path is one cup. One cup. Try the following some time: Without measuring, pour out what you’d think would be one cup of cereal into a bowl. I guarantee you’ll pour more than a cup. Imagine the saddest, smallest portion of food you will ever see and I present one cup of cereal in a decent-sized bowl. But “one cup” allows Nature’s Path to boast “about 9 serving per container”. No sir. My serving size (and yours) means I’m lucky if I get four bowls out of the entire box.

Look, I get it; organic foods are expensive. A box of Heritage Flakes would run me ten dollars or more if Nature’s Path filled the bag to the top. Add blueberries and milk and it’s an even pricier breakfast. But I’m willing to pay more for flakes instead of air. I suggest Nature’s Path go with the plan for my two-thirds-full suitcase instead. Throw in a giant marshmallow to take up all of that extra space.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #8 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King

Neuschwanstein Castle’s (unfinished) “Palas”

Today’s construction felt like building a miniature castle within the walls of a much larger one. Bags 15 and 16 (of 23 bags of pieces) were entirely dedicated to the “Palas”, Neuschwanstein’s main residential structure. Within the walls of this building you’ll find King Ludwig’s stateroom, his servant’s quarters, a conservatory, a salon (a room to entertain guests), and an enclosed grotto at the very top. Makes me wonder why Ludwig needed to build the rest of Neuschwanstein, but I guess that’s just his way of showing off.

See the swan parked in the middle of the Grotto?

The grotto sounds like a nice place for a king to hang out, even if the LEGO equivalent makes it look a little cramped. It’s a covered outdoor space with a waterfall, colored lights, and sliding glass doors for unobstructed views of the surrounding Alps. Pretty darned progressive for a castle built in the late 1800s.

Finally, Ludwig had a thing for swans. He probably had several live ones living at the base of the waterfall but he also had the large sculpture you see above, placed prominently in the grotto. For the record, it’s a futile exercise to create a realistic-looking swan out of LEGO blocks. And the “headpiece” is so small LEGO threw in an extra one in case I somehow misplaced it.

Running build time: 7:57

Total leftover pieces: 52

Accompanying movie soundtrack: Chariots of Fire (1981). The theme song from Greek composer Vangelis is iconic; easily one of the most recognizable pieces of movie soundtrack music ever composed, whether the leadoff with the hunting horn or the sweeping piano tune itself. The melody really does evoke images of the human body in motion. However, I was quickly reminded this film score hardly represents a satisfying listen without watching the film at the same time. The rest of the synthesizer music can only be described as bizarre. Some parts are designed to accompany dramatic slow-motion running scenes. Other parts have zero rhyme/reason when they stand alone. And right in the middle of the soundtrack you get an abrupt shift to church organ music and the voices of a beautiful choir. But never mind all that. Just listen to the famous theme here.

Lois Lanes

Like many towns these days, my own hosts an annual festival featuring a series of running races; the 5k on up to the marathon. My choice of those is the 10k, about six miles start to finish. Those miles give me a good tour of everything our town has to offer, including Civil War-era buildings and landmarks. But even better, the middle miles of the run go down a street I consider utterly unforgettable. After all, the street is named after my mother.

Okay, it’s safe to say Marion Street is not named after my mother because it was added to the map almost a hundred years before she was born. But the name grabs my attention because of the spelling. My mother is “Marion”, not “Marian” or “Maryann” (or however else you choose to spell it). Besides, when our town’s other streets default to standards like “Second”, and “Park”, a woman’s name smack dab in the middle of them all certainly stands out.

I ran the town 10k for the fourth time last April, so it was another chance to blow a kiss to my mother as I huffed/puffed down her street. But this topic never would’ve become a blog post without broadening the search a little. Which brings me to “David Street”, a discovery I made just this past weekend. Driving down a road I rarely traverse, the street sign popped up just after a curve, causing a double-take and a tap on the brakes. Marion Street and now David Street? What’s going on here?

Believe it or not, the study of street names (like we’re doing today) also has a name: odonymy. “Odonyms” in U.S. cities prefer to go with numbers, trees, or landscape elements. There’s a good chance your town has a Second Street, Elm Street, and/or a Park Avenue. If you do have a street named after someone, that person was likely a U.S. president or a prominent figure in American history. And the person is most assuredly dead, because tradition says we don’t name our streets for the living.

Odonymy trivia: “Second” is the most common street name in the United States (there are over 11,000 of them), followed by “Third”, followed by “First”. Why is “First” in third place? Because “First” is often replaced by “Main” (for a town’s most prominent street) or “Front” (if that street fronts something noteworthy like a river).

Streets used to be named for the trades you could find located on them.

If a town’s grid is big enough the street names can be part of a group. In San Diego, the city chose trees in alphabetical order (e.g. “Ash”, “Beech”, “Cedar”) intersected by numbered streets, so your location at say, “Fourth and Elm” is very easy to find. Austin, TX named its streets after Texas rivers. Palo Alto, CA went with distinguished colleges and universities. And even though Tucson, AZ didn’t go with a group of names at all, they still get points for calling their streets on the diagonal “Stravenues”.

Because I can’t resist a good treasure hunt I looked up the rest of my family on Google Maps. Guess what? Of my four brothers, two are on street signs right here in town, while the other two are less than thirty minutes away. My three children are in the neighborhood as well. As for my father? Well, the nearest “Bob Street” is over two hours away, yet that seems apropos. After all, my dad was always one to endeavor far beyond his immediate surroundings.

To bring us back to where this all started, the mystery of Marion Street is really no mystery at all. My town chose South Carolina counties for its street names and Marion County is one of those, just off the Atlantic coast. The name “Marion” honors Francis Marion, the “Swamp Fox” brigadier general who served in the Revolutionary War. But I prefer to honor a certain someone else instead. So every chance I get I’ll run down her street, give a little wave to her sign as I pass by and say, “Hi Mom!”

Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #7 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King

King Ludwig’s castle is determined to be the most difficult LEGO build I’ve undertaken, even if the construction has been fairly straightforward so far. Bags 13 and 14 (of 23 bags of pieces) returned to the Bavarian Alps below the structure, working to close in the far end of the castle’s earthly foundation. Today was effectively ninety minutes of adding more of the green, grey, and beige pieces you see in the surround of the model. And the build was going just swimmingly… until it wasn’t.

To the far right, well below that skewed hollow rectangle… a missing piece was not-so-missing after all.

LEGO left another piece out of the box (or so I thought). As I wrapped up construction of the contents of Bag 13, I realized the little bugger simply wasn’t there – and it was an important little bugger. I looked everywhere to no avail. So clever me improvised by replacing the piece with a fairly similar one from my pile of leftovers. It wasn’t until I was well into the build of Bag 14 that I noticed the missing piece staring up at me from the remaining parts. Which begs several questions. 1) Did LEGO put the piece into the wrong bag? 2) Did I somehow mix up the pieces from both bags (since I emptied them out together)? Or most probably, 3) Did the piece not want to be held captive in the model and was trying to make a run for it?

Despite what you might think, this section is constructed correctly.

Whatever actually happened I managed to install little bugger where he originally belonged, but not before having to take apart a good chunk of the angled area you see here to gain access to his rightful location. You can’t even see this missing piece when all’s said and done, but it does serve as an anchor for the pieces above it so it’s kind of necessary. I’m happy to report, our little runaway is now officially captive inside of the model. Forever.

Running build time: 6:41.

Total leftover pieces: 41.

Accompanying movie soundtrack: On Golden Pond (1981). After last week’s barrage of Italian opera solos from Breaking Away I was ready for something calmer. And it doesn’t get much calmer than the music from On Golden Pond. The story itself is not a walk in the woods (by design) but who among us baby boomers wouldn’t jump at the chance to see Henry Fonda and Katharine Hepburn in the same film? Both won Academy Awards for their performances. The soundtrack, as it turns out, isn’t much more than the movie’s theme song, a beautiful wandering piano solo with a little flute (and a few loons). So I just put Spotify on repeat and hung out on Golden Pond (over and over) for awhile. Listen to the melody here.

Honest Jane

Every now and then you make a mistake and then find yourself entirely dependent on the actions of others to get it fixed. As much as you might want to make things right yourself, you’re forced to sit back and hope for the best from someone else. Such was the case this past Labor Day, when my wife was so eager to deplane from our return flight home that she left her iPhone in the seat pocket in front of her. When you realize the magnitude of this kind of mistake – and it hits you after you’re long gone from the airport – it kind of takes your breath away.

Let’s be fair. Leaving things on planes is not my wife’s specialty; it’s mine. I’ve left everything from reading glasses to a Kindle e-Reader to a really nice pair of Bose headphones behind, a sort of “Merry Christmas” to those who clean the planes. So my wife would be forgiven for her audible gasp when she realized her out-of-character mistake. And my mind promptly went to the consequences of her actions: a) A trip to the Apple Store more than an hour from our house, b) The purchase price of a new iPhone, and c) The likelihood my wife hadn’t backed up her left-behind phone (and all those precious granddaughter photos).

As it almost always does, the problem-solver in me shifted into high gear. I realized my wife had shared her (iPhone) location with me, which meant my phone could see if her phone was still on the plane. So I had her check my phone (since I’m a responsible driver) and guess what? Not only was her phone not on the plane anymore, it was moving. Down the airport concourse, away from the plane, boldly in the direction of the free world beyond.

At this point two more thoughts entered my mind. One (sadly, the first one), whomever cleans the plane pocketed the phone and was casually on their way out the door, with hopes of breaking through the passcode and wreaking havoc. Or two, an employee of the airline was carefully shepherding the phone to the front counter, where maybe-just-maybe they’d make an effort to contact my wife.

Why wait for either scenario to play out? I told my wife, “Call your phone”. Which she did, and guess who answered? Honest Jane. Okay, Honest Jane wasn’t her real name, but after the conversation that followed it really could’ve been. “HJ” was walking down the concourse towards the front counter, phone in hand, where she intended to check the flight record for contact information for my wife. Pretty sure this long stroll from airplane to counter wasn’t part of Jane’s regular job description. But she made it sound like a walk in the park – happy to do so. Were we still at the airport (and with my wife’s approval), I would’ve kissed HJ on the cheek.

Instead, more options. Do we turn the car around and go back to the airport, rescuing the phone but adding another three hours to our drive home? Or do we ask HJ for a more convenient solution? I chose Door #2. HJ thought for a minute as she continued her walk and then said, “Well, you could set up a personal FedEx account, create a shipping label addressed to yourself, overnight the label to here, and then you’d get your phone back in a day or two.” Well bless your heart HJ, you’re a problem-solver too!

As of this post I’m happy to report my wife’s phone has been reunited with its owner. All means of texting, social media, and exchanging of granddaughter photos has resumed. But a question remains: What to do about HJ… or more to the point, how to thank Jane for her Honesty? Trust me (and trust HJ while you’re at it), I’ll come up with something. After all, Honest Jane’s a rare breed. She deserves an attagirl.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #6 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King)

Normally I’d update you on my latest efforts of castle construction, followed by a brief commentary on the movie soundtrack I chose for my background music. Today I must cover both topics together. For the second Indiana-based movie in as many weeks (alongside Rudy), we have Breaking Away (1979). This “little” movie and its heartwarming story will always be one of my favorites. Now if only I could say the same about its score.

Bags 11 and 12 (of 23 bags of pieces) started out innocently enough, with the creation of one of Neuschwanstein’s spectacular towers. But like Breaking Away‘s soundtrack, things went quickly south. After finishing the tower I realized I’d left off an entire level, which meant deconstructing almost back to the bricks at the base to get it right. At the same time I realized several windows from prior construction were out of alignment, which meant even more deconstruction.

Normally I’d take these missteps in stride but the Breaking Away soundtrack was really, really getting on my nerves. I forgot one giant detail about the music – it’s all opera, and it’s all in Italian. Words of advice: don’t try linking foreign language operatic soloes to particular moments you remember in movies – it doesn’t go well. Well, except for M’appari tutt’amor from Act III of the comic opera Martha. It’s the film’s signature solo and the song the lead character chooses as a serenade to a college girl he can never have. This captivating scene, and so many more like it, is what makes Breaking Away an unforgettable film. Just don’t bother with the soundtrack afterwards.

Running build time: 6:33

Total leftover pieces: 43

Peachy Keen

We’re getting a new dessert destination in town called “The Peach Cobbler Factory”. It’s a franchise I’ve never heard of despite locations in twenty-six states. As you’d expect, The Peach Cobbler Factory offers fruit pie in a cup (à la mode or sans ice cream) but also lots of other desserts. Choose from cheesecakes, cookies, or brownies, and all sorts of spins on peaches. Now if only I actually liked peaches.

Without “cobbler” in the name this business would never have caught my eye. The truth is, I love peach cobbler. It’s one of those foods I find inexplicably tasty even when its main ingredient doesn’t appeal to me. The same can be said for Fig Newtons. I’ve never been a fig fan yet I’ve eaten scores of the cookies. Not that they taste like fresh figs. But cobbler tastes like fresh fruit.

A peach cobbler cinnamon roll? Maybe, maybe not.

I grew up in a household that was all pie and no cake (read my take on pies in Any Way You Slice It). My mother used to make delicious hot fruit pies from scratch. Cherry, lemon meringue, apple, and peach, and there might’ve been a blueberry in there somewhere as well. The cherry was always my favorite but the peach was a close second. My mother knew how to make a homemade crust, with the wonderful latticework on top to finish off the look. She also knew what ingredients went into the pie to give it just the right consistency.

So go figure; I love hot peach pie even if I don’t love peaches. Maybe I had too many as a kid (not by choice), sliced into a bowl and served with cream. Maybe the sugar and crust of the pie somehow makes the peaches more palatable. Whatever the reason, I know I’ll be visiting the The Peach Cobbler Factory and giving their products a try.

Peaches are a big deal around here, evidenced by the groves (no, not “orchards”) of trees just about everywhere you look. South Carolina harvests over 90,000 tons of the fuzz balls every year, over twice as many as our neighbor to the west. That’s right; Georgia may consider itself “The Peach State” (as their signs boast when we cross the Savannah River) and their pretty girls might be “Georgia Peaches”, but South Carolinians know which state really delivers the fruit. On that note, here’s more peach trivia:

The peaches you buy at the market are likely a local product, but no country produces them in numbers like China does. If you added up the peach production from every country in the world you wouldn’t be close to half the number coming out of China.
A nectarine is technically a peach. So is an apricot. The fruits are only separated by one recessive gene (causing the “shaved” look of a nectarine). You can even find peaches and nectarines growing on the same tree.
Peaches come in 300 varieties. The “yellow” is the one you’re familiar with but the white is more common. Peaches can also look like donuts (flatter, with a hole in the middle). They’re categorized as “freestone” or “clingstone” according to how the pit separates (or doesn’t) from the fruit itself.
Peach fuzz is a form of defense. It protects the fruit from the rot brought on by surface water. It also discourages bugs from taking a bite. Maybe I should skip my morning shave whenever I work in the backyard?

I’ll be sure to report back after I give The Peach Cobbler Factory a try. I’m hoping their signature dessert is as peachy keen as Mom used to make. Of course, it’ll be cobbler – not pie – which adds to today’s trivia. With a cobbler I don’t get a crust under the fruit… only on top. That’s okay. As long as it’s hot and a la mode I’ll be transported back to the pie days of my youth. With desserts like those, who needs cake?

Some content sourced from the Lane Southern Orchards website, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #5 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King

As predicted, we’ll continue to build this castle in modules. Bag 9 came together in a cool eighteen minutes, but Bag 10 was another test of patience with more of those tiny, tiny pieces. The end result of both bags is the structure and tower you see above, carefully snapped into the surrounding model after I completed it. It’s known as a “bower”, a private apartment for the ladies of the house. Fancy digs, no?

I would’ve loved to see the bower in all its glory. The fact is, with only 14 of Neuschwanstein’s 200 rooms completed the bower is likely just the elegant exterior walls you see here and nothing else. And those walls are full of windows, aren’t they? I’ve added dozens of windows to the castle (with several dozen more to go). And – painful lesson – those windows need to be oriented correctly. I got one wrong on the lowest level of the bower, which meant several steps of deconstruction/reconstruction. Not so fun.

Here’s a close-up of Neuschwanstein’s “lower courtyard”. It’s where King Ludwig would’ve welcomed his guests when they arrived. It’s also where you – should you choose to visit – will begin your tour of this magnificent structure. When all’s said and done, the castle itself will utterly tower over this courtyard, a statement about not only the castle but also Ludwig himself.

Running build time: 5:07.

Total leftover pieces: 37.

Accompanying movie soundtrack: Rudy (1993). I can’t believe this movie came out over thirty years ago. Then again, I can’t believe I graduated from Notre Dame over forty years ago. Extreme bias aside, Rudy is a story of perseverance unlike any other. Just when you think Rudy Ruettiger can’t 1) Get accepted into Notre Dame, 2) Make the football team, 3) Actually play in a football game… Rudy delivers the goods time and again. You need hear only a few seconds of the flute-soloed theme to know most of the soundtrack. I can tie every bit of the music back to specific scenes in the move but that’s just me, a Notre Dame fanatic. I’ll be watching my Fighting Irish – in person – this weekend as they take on Wisconsin at Green Bay’s Lambeau Field. Meanwhile, you’ll be listening to the Rudy soundtrack. Here.

Hat Trick

In the coastal village where my wife and I spend a couple of weeks each summer, a hat boutique has been converted into a gelato shop. An’s Hatmakers, paying homage to the location’s prior business, claims to be one of the top five gelato shops in America two years running. You’d believe it if you saw the line of twenty-plus patrons we joined to give it a try. But there’s more to this story than ice cream and headgear. In fact, you might call it something of a hat trick.

My wife and I have always been ice cream fanatics, so much so that we’ve banned any and all versions from our household freezer for fear of overindulging. I blame Häagen-Dazs, the brand that brought ice cream to a whole new level of quality (and butterfat) when it debuted in the 1970s. Today a pint of Haagen-Dazs sets you back $6-$7. That may seem like a lot until you consider places like An’s Hatmakers. A pint of An’s runs you twice that much.

Seriously, who pays $15 for a pint of ice cream? Apparently more people than the twenty-plus in line at An’s. Artisanal gelaterias and ice cream shops have been popping up online and on-street in numbers like we’ve never seen before. Baskin-Robbins and Coldstone Creamery won’t be threatened – especially with these eye-popping prices – but it may interest you to know the customer who buys at Baskins is the same one who buys at An’s.

It’s an oft-heard post-pandemic story. A person is unexpectedly pushed out of their corporate job by COVID. Exploring their inner-entrepreneur, this person combines something they have with something they’re good at and voila… a boutique business is born. I’ve just described A to Z Creamery in Minneapolis. A to Z was born in a home kitchen, from nothing more than an ice cream machine, a penchant for creating unique flavors, and a bit of online marketing. A to Z started as a “drop business” (filling orders online as they came in) but today they’re a thriving retail establishment. At $15 a pint.

$15 ice cream speaks to an interesting trend of economic tolerance. With prices through the roof on all sorts of items, it’s fair to say some of us can no longer afford (or no longer choose to pay for) the things we would’ve dropped big money on ten years ago. Maybe we forego a new car for a used one. Or an expensive trip for a stay-cation. As a reward for being frugal we may find ourselves with a little spending money. So we opt for “micro-indulgences” like overpriced gelato.

The pandemic also fostered more of a you-only-live-once (YOLO) attitude. We’re more about enjoying the moment instead of planning for the future. It’s the primary reason An’s and A to Z have lines of customers down the block. I’m reminded of the early years of our marriage, when my wife and I struggled with California’s high cost of living. We couldn’t afford the houses our Silicon Valley neighbors boasted so what did we do instead? We bought a luxury sedan we really had no business owning. But that car sure made us feel better.

Here at home, our little town hosts three ice cream shops. Each sells a perfectly good product. If you convert the cost of their scoops to pints (4:1), any one of them tops out at around $8. Which makes me think the next time I’m at An’s I’ll be buying a hat instead of gelato. After all, I want to have something I’ll eat if I ever spend $15 on ice cream.

Some content sourced from the KSL.com article, “What a $15 pint of ice cream says about the economy”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #4 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King)

Believe it or not, I wish King Ludwig built an even bigger castle. If he had maybe LEGO would’ve used bigger pieces for its model. Bags 7 and 8 (of 23 bags of pieces) contained some of the smallest bits of LEGO I’ve ever tried to get my fingers around. When I first spilled out the bags I let out a big sigh, not just for today’s construction but for the similar chapters sure to follow. After all, we’ve only built the Gatehouse and a portion of the lowest level of the castle so far. The finished structure will be about three times the height you see in the photo. That’s a lot more LEGO bits.

We built away from the main model today. Each bag represented a separate “module” of the castle like you see in this photo. When it’s complete you drop the whole assembly into the base. This sort of approach is possible with the cranes we use in modern construction but certainly not in Ludwig’s time. His builders would’ve been creating the castle one brick at a time. Regardless, at least we have the beginnings of the castle instead of just boring Bavarian Alps, right? The Gatehouse was the first part of the castle to be completed back in 1872, so credit LEGO for designing the model to be built in the same order.

Here’s what we started with today. Most of these LEGOs are seriously small.

As I searched for tiny piece after tiny piece today I got to thinking, “Man, it’d be nice to have an AI bot right now. This bot could consult the instruction manual, scurry over to the piles of LEGOs, and haul back exactly what I needed for each step. But hey, like a jigsaw puzzle the hunting for the pieces is (supposed to be) part of the fun. I just wish they were bigger than cake crumbs!

Running build time: 4:02.

Total leftover pieces: 28.

Accompanying movie soundtrack: Dances with Wolves (1990). No one should disagree Dances with Wolves is the crowning achievement of Kevin Costner’s film career. With it he won the Academy Award for Best Producer, Best Director, and was nominated for Best Actor. I’ll never forget a random hotel stay with my wife, where we turned on the television to Dances with Wolves just as it was starting. We’d never seen the movie before. Three hours later we sat speechless, having long missed our dinner reservation. John Barry’s scoring of the film also won the Oscar and is entirely deserving. Understandably – assuming you’ve seen the movie – the melodies are mostly haunting and forlorn, but the score is beautifully tied together time and again with the unforgettable theme music. Listen to it here.

A Tale of Two Women

There’s a well-known saying in the South: The intolerable heat of July and August is God’s reminder you don’t want to go to the bad place some day. The coping strategies include lots of time indoors or traveling to more temperate places. Thus did my wife & I find ourselves on the California coast for a couple of weeks. Giving up the sweat and bugs for the sun, surf, and sand was an easy trade. But true to form Cali delivered an experience worth sharing (or at least blogging about).

We all have choices when it comes to shipping our stuff. Maybe it’s the post office in a small town but for the rest of us it’s a franchise like The UPS Store or PostNet. My option during this trip was PostalAnnex, conveniently adjacent to a market where my wife could disappear. So I entered the shipping store alone, phone in hand, fully prepared to get lost in my newsfeed while waiting in a long line. Only there wasn’t any line – just one woman being helped by another behind the counter. My lucky day! I’d be back to the sun and surf in no time.

I’d hardly glanced at PostalAnnex’s impulse buys when I began to pick up on the conversation at the counter. The woman was sending a vase. It was fragile. She wasn’t convinced it would get to its destination intact. But credit the clerk for her calm, soothing voice, assuring the woman she’d packed countless fragile objects before, and this one would be no exception. To which the woman literally shouted, “Well, I hope so! Otherwise my vase will be as broken as my marriage!”

As broken as my marriage? Okay, that got my attention.

Look, I’m not one to eavesdrop but I was kind of a captive audience here, okay? And I had no idea this woman was just getting started with her personal soap opera. “Last name?”, the clerk asked, intending to search the PostalAnnex database. “Jones… Lisa Jones”, declared the woman, who promptly corrected herself by saying, “No… WAIT!!! Not Jones!!! That’s who I used to be!!! Clark!!! It’s Clark now! And you gotta update my first name too because I changed that as well! Ari Clark! Yes I’m… I’m Ari Clark now, thank you very much. New first name and new last name!!! This is me severing every last connection with that no-good loser ex-husband of mine!!!”

Oh my. And here I thought she was just mailing a vase.

Since I was the only male in the store you can understand why I considered bolting for the door at that very moment. But since the woman didn’t turn around and say something to the effect of “ALL of you men are scum of the earth“, I maintained my quiet presence. Quiet, that is, until the clerk looked over at me somewhat helplessly and said, “Sir, are you just dropping off or do you need to set up a shipment?” Which prompted the woman to look back at me and – thankfully – give nothing more threatening than a what are you looking at? glance.

“I look good, don’t I?”, she continued, clearly posing for the clerk. “I mean, I’ve made the changes, if you know what I mean. I’m ready to get out there and start living again. My ex – man – he totally blew it with that affair of his. 35 years of marriage and he goes and cheats on me? Over and done with, baby – your loss.”

“Um, your address please?”, the PostalAnnex clerk pleaded.

“58 Charles St., Apartment B. That’s right, a new address to put into your system because I’m done with that old address. Like I said, I’m done with everything about the last thirty-five years.”

The clerk then assured this woman she looked great and was doing the right thing by moving on, and in fact, should move on right now so the next customer (me) could be helped. And bless her heart, that’s exactly what the woman did… that is, after paying with a credit card she assured us had her new first and last name.

When it was my turn at the counter (twenty minutes after walking through the door) the clerk joked with me. “Well, I guess I offer free marital advice along with shipping services. So let’s chat first; how long have you been married?”

“Thirty-nine years”, I said, a little too proudly.

“Thirty-nine years?“, she exclaimed. “Goodness – no one in California lasts that long! Tell you what, just for you: the thirty-nine-years-of-marriage shipping discount!”

Did I really get a discount? Who knows. I’m just glad I didn’t run into the other woman in the parking lot. I’d put up with enough blistering heat already this summer.

———————————————————–

LEGO Neuschwanstein Castle – Update #3 (read about the start of this project in Fit for a (Fairy Tale) King)

No surprise, we continued to move mountains (er, Bavarian Alps) this week instead of anything brick or stone. The colors and shapes of the LEGO pieces in Bags 5 and 6 (of 23 bags of pieces) were decidedly “earthy”. What we have in the photo above looks like some sort of ocean trawler instead of a castle foundation. But the good news is, we’ve just about reached the far end of the model (on the right), so a little more earth-moving will shift gears into castle construction.

In my haste to move mountains I knocked that single white turret off its footing, which forced me to leaf back several pages in the instruction manual to remember where it was based. Strange how LEGO chose to tease me with a lone turret (and castle wall) this early in the build. That little assembly will be utterly dwarfed by the castle once it rises above it.

A footpath outside of the castle walls, perhaps?

Speaking of the LEGO instruction manual (better known as the “Tome of Construction”) this is a good time to dismiss LEGO “Builder”. For those of you in the know, Builder is a smartphone app that replaces the instruction manual, so you just tap your phone every time you move to a new step. Nope, not gonna do it. The Tome of Construction is much bigger than a phone screen, with easy-to-turn, easy-to-read pages. There’s really no good reason to go electronic with the steps. After all, Neuschwanstein didn’t have electricity when it was built so why should its construction?

Running build time: 2:37.

Total leftover pieces: 21.

Accompanying movie soundtrack: The Natural (1984). Here’s an appropriate choice from my favorite soundtracks list, since we’re in the middle of the major league baseball season. The Natural is a mystical, beautifully filmed story of an aging baseball player. Robert Redford plays the lead role (with Glenn Close supporting, and looking a lot lovelier than she did in Fatal Attraction). The movie score is both haunting and majestic. It taps generously from Aaron Copland’s “Fanfare for the Common Man”. It also echoes Rudy, a soundtrack I’ll spend a little time with a couple of weeks from now. Have a listen to The Natural here.