Family

Two generations and a dog.

American Dream

I think my blog is the appropriate place for this, rather than trying to condense it into a board post (for I would never wish to be verbose on the board) and then put the photos elsewhere. So here goes for a completely incomplete history of the NY/Boston Hobbmeet (as it shall be forever eloquently known). For people with slow internet access, you may want to run away now...this has 43 photos. Ahem.

The first 24 hours, for me, consisted purely of travelling, biped and a very tiny amount of sleep. They were enjoyable, though – I have no idea what we nattered about on the plane now but remember having a good time at the time. Waking biped up purely to point out barren terrain was particularly satisfying. Unfortunately I also allergied severely to something on the plane and emerged blinking and sneezing at JFK. We then took an excessively long time to reach the apartment, where we found Em already waiting for us, with the apartment owner having abandoned hope (and the keys) hours earlier. The evening was spent jumping on beds, ordering massive pizza, watching a little VM2, investigating the scary corner shop, spilling beer…and all that before anyone else even turned up. Q, Keppet and Amy arrived together…and I have no idea what the 6 of us did then really. Allocated beds I guess…and most people went to bed pretty early. Kepp and I stayed up to let daisy in at 1, and then all was sleep (or snoring) on the Harlem front.

If it hasn’t been obvious from other people’s descriptions/photos, the apartment was perfect. Okay, biped and her futon declared war, and there wasn’t quite enough proper bedding for everyone, and the cable tv didn’t work and we couldn’t get into the laundry and the backyard seemed to be mosquito heaven and the neighbours could be quite unnerving at times but…none of that really mattered, did it? It was a good size, it had everything we needed, it was very pretty on the outside, and it came complete with wet concrete for us to leave our mark. Unfortunately I couldn't get quite far enough away from it at the front to take a good picture, but this shows enough of it (complete with Chantelle, our landlady's local friend who came by to pick up money and disclaim all knowledge of laundry keys).

That was taken at the very end of the week, though - to get back to logical chronology, here is the kitchen area, with breakfast on the first morning – starting as we meant to go on, we all got up and showered and ate and so on in a combined total of about two hours. Not the best photo ever, but doesn’t it look like home already? Aw. Except we had nasty sweetened bread that morning. Ugh. Doesn’t go well with Marmite.

Due to the torrential rain (mean-spirited weather) we abandoned the Central Park Picnic plan, and the group split so that Kepp and Amy went to collect straggler Heather, while the rest of us proceeded to Times Square to be intimidated by Rian’s hotel, and then we all headed to Chinatown. In Chinatown we had the one and only instance of the archetypal meet moment…*mutters*…that girl on that corner over there is reading a book…it looks like a fantasy book…shall we go over and stand by her en masse to see if she is in fact waiting for a group of Internet People? And she was. Yay Fedwren. We had Chinese for lunch, all of us round a very large table, and I have tons of photos of this but no particularly good ones. Well – as Fed was the newbie, have one with her in anyway.

Then it was time for Accomplice.

So this is my only proper group photo from New York - the same one that everyone else has. But for those people who may read this without knowing who we all are (you lucky, lucky people), let's include it and attempt a naming session.

From Right to Left (I'm in an awkward mood today), with real names in brackets where people were only optional boardnames: biped, Narrisch (Dana), (top) helorime (Heather), (middle) daisy, (bottom) Keppet (Christine), me, Rian, (hiding at the back looking away because he's not with these people, oh no) Yephoe (Lars), (bottom) Q, &Co (Paul), KissTheFool (Em), Fedwren (Charity). Amy was taking the photo.

Other people have already mentioned our lateness and most of the exciting things that happened…it was very enjoyable indeed. I think my favourite actor was the blind man and his box – the look on Rian’s face when someone randomly reaches out and touches it is quite amusing. And only afterwards did we realise just how many references they were throwing in to the internet…I still don’t believe they can have done thorough enough research to find the avocadoes, though. Surely? But anyway, it was very good to really give us the feel of knowing the lower Manhattan area we were traversing, and who doesn’t enjoy drinking in a bar with bras hanging from the ceiling anyway?

Oh - and let's not forget that Q made a friend. Internet, meet Gulliver. Who has probably been served up on someone's plate by now.

After Accomplice came food at Carmine’s. Not much to say. Here's the children's table, having eaten as much as we could.

We took all our leftovers home. ‘Cos we’re cheap. Fedwren came back to the apartment with us, whereupon we were all fantastically exciting and sat around reading comics. That was pretty much it.

Sunday…Rian&Co and Heather abandoned us for the lure of emano, and as the day was once more overcast and dull, the rest of us went to the MoMA, which was good if a tad expensive for me – I find modern art very hit-and-miss in my ability to appreciate it. There were some very good pieces though...including one that seemed a tad familiar from Paris...

and Q and Em and daisy and I took an hour out in the middle anyway to forage, also finding this thing that we recognised but didn't know why, so we took a photo of it anyway. The Antipodeans seemed to think it was appropriate for them, although I was quite happy being just the photographer here.

We then went back into the MOMA, finished off seeing most of the stuff we could find (I swear there were vanishing rooms in that place that other people knew how to get into) and met up with everyone else. Aw look - we broke Dana.

That night…hmm. Did we go back to the apartment and eat leftover pasta? I think we did. Oh, that’s right - some of us did. And watched From Dusk Till Dawn. Hah, yeah. Other people went for chocolate martinis.

Monday…Monday. Hmm. Nice weather, I remember that. Picnic in Central Park for lunch – oh, and before that we tidied up the apartment to the strains of Going Through The Motions. Heh. Those of you who saw the later exhibition, we were merely carrying on something that had begun that morning. And it’s certainly good music to make beds and tidy to. So yeah – the Harlemites got picnic food from Wholefoods at Columbus Circle. Of all the photos of big tall buildings that I tried to take, I think this one is my favourite.

We then took our food a short way into Central Park (as ever, getting delayed by Q every time a squirrel showed its tail), found ourselves a patch of grass (once again, something that Myo Would not Do) and ate. Mmm, chocolate brownies. And a decent amount of violation on the side. Or should that be indecent? Here's everyone attempting to look decadent and instead just turning strawberries into smutty props.

We then took the number 1 subway (ta-da)

right to the end to catch the Staten Island ferry. Which was a little windblown.

...but did indeed give fantastic views of Manhattan

and the Statue of Liberty

…also it should probably be noted that several people observed Ellis Island and had an ‘mmm, Angel’ moment. We just about set foot on Staten Island before turning round and heading back. On the return trip a seagull hitched a lift, there were black hawk helicopters, and we discussed a Twelve Days of Hobblings which was never completed due mostly to our inability to find an equivalent to a partridge in a pear tree (well, who could?). We then travelled back up to Times Square, where certain people made thwippy noises,

to pick up Rian & Co, because Monday night was the Ethiopian meal, which was very enjoyable in an unusual sort of way *waggles roll of flatbread* and then we all (final true use of the word ‘all’) went back to the Harlem apartment for a song and dance. Of which there are already quite sufficient photos abounding. Sadly, no camera can quite capture the terror in the faces of the audience.

On Tuesday we intended to get up and out early because we knew the Daily Show would curtail our day. But of course that didn’t happen…*concentrates not at all on Q but instead on the yummy breakfast brioche*. Did we do anything before going to Chinatown? I don’t think so…oh! Was this the morning we walked up Brooklyn Bridge? Yes…okay, I have a photo for this.

And then we went to Ground Zero, before moving on and up to Chinatown, where there was a little shopping done (daisy and Q now have matching boots) before Keppet, Amy and I left to hold position in the Daily Show queue. No idea what everyone else did, but we ate cookies. Or fruit if we were healthy. Others arrived in dribs and drabs, and then we stood in line for a while. I tested Narrisch on her Latin (si quando?) and may have scarred her for life. Hehe. We then went through the extreme security to be saluted by Musharraf, but again – other people have covered this. It was very good though. Re Bush deciding that the interpretation of the Geneva Convention lies with him: “Applying the electrodes of freedom to the testicles of terror.”

On Tuesday night the Harlem 7 ate in, having bought food from Wholefoods, and Fedwren joined us again (also bringing a friend along later) – she became a little part of the apartment in a way that none of the other non-Harlemites really did. Aw. And she took her comics back.

Over Tuesday night to Wednesday morning, I cunningly managed to sleep through daisy being ill for several hours despite sharing a room with her. Oops. I still feel bad about that. So on Wednesday morning she decided to spend the day in bed. The rest of us set off to have breakfast with Rian&Co for a final meet-up, and proceedings were enlivened by Q vomiting in a bin on the street. And then Em feeling ill too. This is what happens if you allow biped to feed you multiple vitamin C tablets on an empty stomach, you see. After breakfast we all split up for the day to do our separate things – well, Keppet and Amy went together, Em and Q went together, and biped and I were totally unsociable and went off on our own. Oh actually no I was more unsociable because biped met up with Narrisch and Lars in the afternoon. On my own…I saw Grand Central Station,


went to the public library,


wandered past the Chrysler Building,


went to the top of the Empire State Building (look - it really is Slightly Off-Centre Park. We should so be in charge of naming things),


saw the Rockefeller Center,



went in St Patrick's Cathedral for a break from the hectic streets,


and then went back to Times Square as dusk fell in order to really appreciate the lights (it should be noted that if you are in a shop in Times Square, you exit thinking it is still dusk when it is in fact now fully nighttime - the ambient light really is that bright),

and then generally wandered the streets some more until I was tired enough to take the wrong subway train twice on the way home. Clever me. I was then more than happy to collapse into the apartment and watch the last two eps of Wonderfalls (daisy had found the perfect way to fill her day) with everyone else except biped. Being on your own is good, but being with good friends is better. For dinner we had pasta and sauce, cooked by the Amazing Keppet and Amy (now would that make a good comic strip or not?).

Thursday was our last day in New York. Sniff. The original plan was for us all to go to the Met, which Amy did, and Kepp joined her later (after completing her Spidey tour), but the rest of us ended up doing different things because there was still so much we wanted to do in NY. We went down to Greenwich Village first, getting severely delayed by the need to squee at the puppies in a pet shop window.

We then had yummy burgers at a random little restaurant, before splitting up yet further – biped and daisy and I wandered the financial district before strolling down to Battery park along the water’s edge, which as it was a nice day was very pretty.

We all met up again on the steps of the Met,

and went for a very yummy Mexican dinner, after which we accidentally ended up at the chocolate martinis place again. This was a very good night, with exceptionally bad pool playing - I had to take this shot to showcase Q's superlative skills with a cue (there were too many homophones of Q on this holiday) - the previous shot was hers, and she is trying to sink that one remaining solid colour. Hah.

The bar had a very nice waitress who was a little puzzled by these people who shouted ‘skits!’ across the room, free shots and amusing mild drunkenness. An excellent farewell to New York, after which we went back to the apartment and packed.

On Friday, we had to leave our wonderful apartment. Woe. We left a tub of ice-cream in the freezer and some beer and salad dressing in the fridge. We hope someone gave them a home. We caught a Greyhound bus (or rather a Peter Pan bus…but Greyhound sounds better) to Boston, which was a pleasant enough journey for those not asleep or fighting off travel-sickness – interesting to see some of rural and small-town America as it went by. In Boston we found our way to the hostel (two subway trains and a bus ride), had brief jealousy over inequalities in the rooms (space to move, and the sci-fi channel) and then walked the short distance into the middle of Everett in search of dinner, which we found in a sports bar with the friendliest waiting staff and most gorgeous food that any sports bar could possibly have. Mm, those bread rolls were fantastic. Anyway. Our sleep was a little disturbed because the bunk beds were more than a little wobbly, and the night-time air temperatures in Massachusetts were decidedly nippier than in New York. It made for a beautiful, clear, crisp morning, though,

in which we discovered Dempsey’s Muffin – the local place to get breakfast.

Everyone else’s was a touch smaller than that. And no, I didn’t finish it.

We then headed into Boston. I don’t know what other people did for the hour or so we split up for, but I wandered round historic areas in the centre




and bought a book. Oh, biped bought a bag. Everyone else probably ceased to exist or something. After taking our picture in a balloon arch which was promptly moved when people spotted us in it,


we met up with Mirry, Emano and Candycanegirl on Boston Common. They all seemed a touch overwhelmed by this group of people who no longer had qualms about prodding any random stranger who wandered by. We headed into Chinatown and had boil-it-youself Japanese food, which was rather good and came with the most delicious frozen fruit juice smoothie things I’ve ever had. Oh, and chopsticks. Heh heh. *passes paper to daisy and Amy*. I managed to scald my hand several times while trying to retrieve my rice noodles from the boiling water, but nonetheless it was a good meal. In the middle of the table, Mirry summed up American history in about 20 minutes, while at the other end Candycanegirl sat wondering what her mom had got her into. In the afternoon we headed up to Cambridge (which unnerved me slightly by just how hard it seemed to be trying to be the Real Cambridge)


and spent our time valuably in tea shops and comic shops, taking one last photo before our extras departed back to their homes (and sanity).


Mirry bottom centre, Emano bottom right. Candycanegirl very cleverly volunteered to be the photographer.

Em, Q, daisy and biped then headed off to the Blue Man Group, while the other three of us headed slowly back to the hostel (via a yummy curry and then MIT for those extra-special Keppet reminiscences) and played cards and giggled muchly.

And so to Sunday – the end of an era (one can have mini eras, right?). Because daisy and Kepp were leaving at about 2, we didn’t do anything beyond having another American breakfast and then heading into town and sitting at South Station laughing rather a lot and worrying the real people. We then found a random stranger to take a final photo of us all, but that's the one I posted earlier, so instead here you may have the traditional Aussie farewell of Meat In The Internet Sandwich.

Kepp and daisy then headed off to the airport and Amy left us to swap to a different hostel for the rest of the week (and who can blame her). The four of us left were in great danger of becoming forlorn, but luckily we cured that through plenty of purchasing of tea, clothes, cds and probably other things too, before heading back into Boston in search of cow (and believe me, it was a search). However, ‘twas not in vain, for we found large and superlatively cooked cow which came complete with some very gorgeous cocktails. Perfect way to end a holiday - complete with public singalongs, we then headed back to the hostel and proceeded to be very silly for an hour or two before finally getting to bed. Em and Q left at an ungodly hour the next morning (oh okay, or 7am) which thankfully was too early for sentimental partings. Biped and I went for one final breakfast, at which the waitress missed everyone else. We tried to split up to do our own thing on our final morning, and it worked for a while - I went back to Boston Common

and wandered up into the very lovely streets on Beacon Hill

but, on bumping into each other again after only an hour or so, we realised it was Inevitable (and probably epic), so rejoined forces to walk the Freedom Trail around Boston for the rest of the morning (during which time it clouded over - here is Paul Revere's house looking very dull indeed),

rounding it off with mouldy shrimp in Quincy Market.

And then we said our farewells to American soil and caught the bus to the airport. This isn't our plane, but this has got to be the best view from a departure lounge I've ever seen. Very nice.

And then we flew home. The end.

All My Sons

A week ago, I drove to Liverpool (2 hours, give or take, and luckily there were no traffic problems) to see the above-named Arthur Miller play. Now…I know nothing of Arthur Miller. The only one of his plays I had heard of was Death of a Salesman, and it must be admitted that the first thing my mind jumps to upon mention of that one is Buffy. So the reason for this excursion? Easy. There is a central cast of 4 – father, mother, son and love interest – and in this production, the son was played by Alexis Denisof.

That is perfectly sufficient reason for spending a grand total of about £40 on ticket and journey.

So, the play itself. When I finally got round to booking a ticket (the day before), the only ones left were in the Gallery, so I was pretty high up above the stage. It was mostly okay except we couldn’t quite see all of the set to properly appreciate it, and there was one little section of stage right at the front which I couldn’t see. But the main problems were the usual tall guy with big head sat in front of me. Sigh. Wasn’t too bad though. Oh there was also someone sat somewhere off behind me who kept moaning. Seriously. It was a little distracting.

The story…is relatively straightforward. There was another son in the family. Both sons went away to war (honestly, I never worked out which war. WWII or Vietnam…hang on, I could google this. Ah, WWII. Okay) – and the younger son, Larry, went MIA over 2 years before the play starts. Everyone knows he must surely be dead, except their mother who refuses to accept it. Elder son Chris came back from the war, works for his dad, seems good and normal. But of course isn’t really. Hurrah! Basically it turns out that their father, whose company manufactured parts for planes during the war, knowingly shipped out faulty engine components, which caused 21 planes to crash – but then got away with it by blaming it all on his partner (Chris’ love interest’s father, always good to keep things complicated). His wife knew about it but kept the secret, and it turns out that Larry heard the news and committed suicide because he couldn’t bear knowing his father was responsible for such a thing. Basically the whole play deals with this secret coming out and what it does to Chris, who, even before this, is still traumatised by the war and how the real world doesn’t measure up to the heroism he saw in battle.

So – Alexis Denisof playing a tortured idealist? Hurray.

He was good. A little too inclined to do that slightly-bent-legs-walking thing which kind of kills drama (think the rogue demon hunter with his chafing pants), but only when he was being the everything’s-alright version of his character. So I forgive that. He convinced me as someone betrayed by his father and the world in everything he believed in.

The rest of the cast were also damn good – father and mother in particular were excellent. The love interest…meh. She was playing a 1940s woman so I guess didn’t have a huge amount of scope anyway, but tended to just flit around and offer grape juice. Easily the best moment with her was when she and Chris kissed. Chris had his hands at his side like he didn’t quite know what to do with them, and whoever it was on whedonesque who said that they had an irrepressible brain flash to Wes/Cordy was spot on. But it was okay because it was meant to be funny and so I could hide my geeky giggles under cover of other people’s normal ones.

The interesting thing for me was my whole reaction to the theatrical medium. I haven’t been to a play for a while...not a proper, serious one anyway – and it actually kind of worried me how much trouble I was having with it at times. Things kept feeling melodramatic, or rushed, or just unlikely. And I don’t think it was the play’s fault. I think it was the fault of tv. I am getting so used to the idea of arcing stories, of character development that spreads across many, many hours, that watching Chris’ breakdown from mostly-okay guy to sobbing-in-his-mother’s-lap guy just seemed unrealistically fast. I felt there was too much skipped, too many lines that were unnecessarily ott. But they weren’t, really…no more than they are in all plays. So...sigh. Annoying, that, but I’m not sure what I can do about it.

The theme of the whole play? I think, overall, the questions of family versus society; money versus morality; implicit trust in parents versus seeing them as real, flawed people.

All subjects I seem to remember discussing in emails at one time or another. Hmm.

They got huge applause when they finished. And they deserved it. It was well worth the driving and the getting lost in Liverpool and the getting home at midnight (whereupon to be landed with a text adventure to test).

To end with – a quote. Which in no way made me think of Wesley and apologies that never happened. Oh no.

Chris: Larry didn’t kill himself to make you and dad sorry!
Kate: What else can we be?
Chris: You can be better.

Goodbye to You