Sometimes your tummy is unhappy. Maybe you ate too much garlic at an Italian restaurant last night, maybe you just got over a bout with the 'flu, maybe nerves or acid reflux are rearing their ugly heads. Fret no more, gentle readers. Auntie Maria has a remedy for that. It's cheap, it's easy to concoct, and you probably have the ingredients already in your cupboard.Yesterday I went to a gathering for the Friends of Anne Hutchinson which is held every year to celebrate Anne Hutchinson's life and legacy. She was the leader of a group of people who founded Portsmouth, Rhode Island, which was the first town in the New World to allow religious freedom and whose citizens were a "body politic." After being thrown out of the Massachusetts Bay Colony for minor divergences in religious belief, they wrote a compact guaranteeing the separation of church and state.
When I got home, I learned of the existence of a radical right-wing group here in the USA who is advertising -- in militant and quasi-military terms -- a plan to "lay seige" on Washington D.C. to change it from the "District of Columbia" to the "District of Christ." They also plan to hold demonstrations and prayer vigils in Washington D.C., Philadelphia, and in each state as they carry out plans for a "reformation intercession." The movement is growing, and according to what I've seen, it appears they are pushing for a theocratic form of government. Because, as we've seen throughout history and even into the present day, theocracies work out great for everybody.
I've met people like this, and while many of them are relatively harmless, they are also not very bright and easily led. As George Carlin famously said, never underestimate the power of stupid people in large groups. Frankly, these people scare the bejeezus out of me.
And then last night while I was watching TV, I thought I heard gunshots. What I probably heard was a particularly loud type of leftover 4th of July fireworks, but for a moment, I seriously entertained the idea that guns were being fired. In Newport, Rhode Island. I feel like I'm living in a world gone mad.
I won't be made useless,
I won't be idle with despair
There isn't much one maiden aunt can do in times like these. But this afternoon, I can draw a cartoon for my food blog. That seems to make my readers smile. I can sketch out some ideas I have for a birthday gift for my great-niece. I can work on the invitations for my BFF's 90th birthday party in August. I can do whatever small things that are in my power to shine a light. And I will.
What could make your summer more awesome than hitting the open road? As part of Laura at Rhinestone Armadillo's Summer of Awesomeness series, please join me on a virtual roadtrip around the USA, where we will look for the kitschy, the tacky, the interesting, and the downright strange. Maybe one of the sites I've selected will be near you (and if you're a reader from outside the US, maybe some of the sites I've found will inspire you to visit)!
I must, of course, begin with Rhode Island's own Nibbles Woodaway, who stands guard over I-95 outside Providence. The 58-foot-long Big Blue Bug perches on top of the offices of New England Pest Control. He even gets dressed up for various holidays.
Heading southwest-ish, we arrive at the Haines Shoe House in Hellam, Pennsylvania. It was originally designed in 1949 as a gimmick to advertise Mr. Haines' many shoe stores in the area. For the first few years, the house was offered to elderly couples for a free weekend getaway. Nowadays you can take a tour for a nominal fee.
In Hardeeville, South Carolina, we find giant pink and gray elephants standing in front of Papa Joe's Fireworks. Why giant elephants? Why not?
Winging our way north to West Virginia (see what I did there?) we encounter a 12-foot-tall stainless steel sculpture depicting The Mothman. Legend has it that a mysterious creature, part man and part moth, terrorized the town of Point Pleasant back in the 1960s. I don't know if Batboy was involved in any of this, but it sure sounds like his kind of thing.
I have a soft spot in my heart for Gemini Giant, whose photo I took on my first Route 66 adventure with my sister Rachel back in 2008. We took a day trip from Chicago to Wilmington, Illinios, where this relic of America's fascination with the space program stands in front of the Launching Pad diner in all his 1960s kitschy glory. (For you youngsters out there, Project Gemini was the name of NASA's second human spaceflight program in 1965 and 1966.)
While we're on the subject of giants, let's visit The Jolly Green Giant in Blue Earth, Minnesota. This advertising icon stands 55 feet tall on the farmland where the Green Giant vegetable company got its start. Ho, ho, ho!
Next, we drive on over to Afton, Wyoming, where we find the Elkhorn Arch stretching 75 feet across Highway 89. The arch is, as the name indicates, entirely made up of elk antlers. There is a sign proclaiming it to be the World's Largest Elkhorn Arch. I'd be willing to bet that's an easy claim to make since it's probably the world's only elkhorn arch.
Tacoma, Washington, is home to Bob's Java Jive. The coffeepot-shaped restaurant was originally built in 1928 and has gone through many incarnations since then. In my opinion, this roadside icon gets extra points for being a kitschy shape and decorated with neon. 
The last stop of our whirlwind tour around the USA is in Joseph City, Arizona, home to the Jackrabbit Trading Post. This spot is the perfect place to buy cheesy souvenirs and get your picture taken on the back of a giant jackrabbit wearing a saddle. You know you want to.
I love the way the carver continued the letters above if he ran out of room -- note the word at the end of the first line. It's actually "Body," but the Y is very small and placed above the D.
The creative spelling is interesting, too (I looked at my mother and said "Dyed what? A shirt? A bolt of cloth?"). Coincidentally, I've become obsessed with a genealogical mystery from the year of Elisabeth's death, so I've spent a bit of time recently looking over documents from the 18th century. The spelling is enough to make me dizzy after a while.
This is my grandma's headstone. She was a hot ticket. When I was a kid, she drove a convertible and took us on foliage rides. Her favorite color was red and she wore it with abandon -- clothing, lipstick, accessories. In the summertime she favored large straw hats with flowers on them. (My mother claims that the flashy dressing gene skipped her generation, but I have seen my mother in a large straw hat with a flower on it. Just sayin'.)
Gram was the kind of person who shouldn't have been asked a question unless you wanted her unvarnished opinion. Actually, she'd often give her opinion even if you didn't ask. Looking back, I like that about her -- she always spoke her mind honestly and without apology.
Despite her shocking lack of cats, I have a particular fondness for Auntie Grace, my mother's maiden aunt. She was my grandfather's sister and a force to be reckoned with. Auntie Grace was a sharp businesswoman who worked for the Fall River Electric Light Company in the early part of the 20th century, and then ran the Simmons family grocery store after her brother's death. Auntie Grace's last words, uttered in the hospital emergency room in ringing tones, were "Young man, you're hurting me. If you can't do your goddamn job, go find someone who can." Now that, gentle readers, was an eighty-six-year-old with moxie.
The art festival is huge, with dozens of exhibitors from around the world. We walked down the pretty, tree-lined streets and looked at booth after booth containing art of all different kinds.
Image: peytonart.comIt's a tough call, but I think my favorite was the Wild Women and Dogs series by Peyton Higginson. I just love everything about the paintings: the colors, the details, the movement, the joy, the textures, the crazy hair.
Okay, so it's not on a par with worrying over global warming, but I've been having a tough time lately finding an eyemakeup remover. The problem is that I wear waterproof mascara every day. I live on the coast in Rhode Island where mist, fog, and rain happen -- sometimes all in one day -- so unless I wear waterproof mascara it gets all Rocky Horror Picture Show up in here. There is really only one liquid makeup remover in my price range (cheap) that works on waterproof mascara, and I've been having trouble finding it. What's a bargain shopper to do?
Well, the last time I was in the skin care section of Ye Olde Walmarte, I spotted a jar of Pond's Cold Cream. I thought if it worked for the pancake makeup classic Hollywood beauties wore in the movies, it will probably work on waterproof mascara. Sure enough, it says it does right on the label. And since a 6.5-ounce jar costs under $5, I what did I have to lose?
In honor of my turning 29 AGAIN last week, the Army Dude and I decided to go on a whale watch on Sunday. Here I am aboard the Whale Watcher, owned by Hyannis Whale Watcher Cruises in Barnstable. I'm wearing my uber-cool Friendship Trap sweatshirt and carrying the also-uber-cool tote bag a good friend brought me from Belgium. You can't see it, but the tote bag says "le joie de vivre avec stuff."
It was at about this point in Barnstable Harbor that I realized the downside of this adventure. To wit: my fellow man. I'm not a huge fan of humanity to begin with, and the boat was packed with a lot of particularly noisy specimens. Entire families, many with small children who were distressed by the wind, the motion, and the fact that they weren't allowed to get up and run around during the hour it took to get to Stellwagen Bank.
Incredibly, the Army Dude actually dozed off in the midst of all this. I couldn't believe it, but then it occurred to me that it was probably quieter than working with an airborne battalion in Iraq. I decided to quit being a delicate flower and enjoy myself.
This whale is kick feeding, which is when an individual churns up the water with his fins and tail. The bubbles confuse the fish and then he scoops them into his big, gaping mouth.
Note the baleen on the top jaw. That's for the purposes of straining out the water and leaving only the tasty, tasty fish behind. Not that I think whales spend much time savoring their meals. This feeding thing looks like a tremendous amount of work, and it takes an awful lot of fish to keep that blubber layer pleasingly plump.
This is another example of bubble feeding. If you look closely, you can see another whale in the background near the boat. Even as we watched whales feeding right up near the side of our boat, we also saw others feeding and spouting in the distance. By the end of an hour we'd seen over 30 whales in the area, with sightings close enough to identify 19 individuals including two mama whales with their calves. It was amazing.
We learned that the technical term for that water vapor in the air is "whale snot." This was the third or fourth exhale that came right at us, before the naturalist helpfully suggested that we should keep our mouths closed and turn away because we didn't want to be breathing it in. Well, that ship had already sailed.
The Army Dude is convinced that we are going to come down with some kind of exotic whale disease. "Like whooping cough or swine flu," he said, "except a whale thing." So far, I feel fine. I am craving sushi, though.
