April 6, 2013
Seems like I have been planning this adventure for the longest time and it just didn't happen. At one point, I thought that it was a trip to save for when Louis and Susan visited. Felt like we had slowed down ... dragged down by winter and age perhaps. Distracted by visions of Charleston perhaps. Excuses. Enabling ourselves to be senior citizen. No excuses ... sometimes you just have to tell yourself, "You're going to Hartford on Saturday. Get over it."
Anne says it is not all about what I "want". I want to leave earlier and stop at some dive diner for breakfast along the way ... to risk acute indigestion from greasy sausage, lacy eggs and butter pooling atop crusty bread. And still arrive 15 minutes before the museum opens. And still have time to assuage my fear of driving into the laberinth of the city. And still have time to foster my belief that I will never find a place to park unless I deign to attempt parallel parking ... unsuccessfully.
Conversely, Anne relishes extra sleep by the second. On time is 15 minutes late. People are supposed to wait patiently while you attempt parallel parking on a busy street. Sleep trumps diner. She will never understand that having a car horn blown at you is ample justification to curse and fight if necessary. I, on the other hand, realize that car horns were invented when knights quit wearing gloves.
Story alighnment. Brief summary:
Left 10 minutes late.
No breakfast.
Arrived 5 minutes early.
Route to museum was a snap.
Convenient parking.
In my pocket, was the game plan ... the talking points for the day. One folded scrap of paper with a list of to-do's and addresses. The plan was to hit two museums dedicated to famous authors, one art museum, and do lunch. The success or failure of our day to be measured against one plan ... on a small, wrinkled scrap of paper.
Thanks to GPS, I now believe that I can not possibly find my way anywhere on my own. I can no longer use a map that does not talk to me. I no longer remember my way home from Brattleboro. It is the way it is ... neither do I recall the capitol of North Dakota. We have a GPS for the car. It is mine now that Anne has a GPS on her phone. I never bothered to learn how to use either. I drive ... Anne navigates (that means GPS now). Once Anne got the GPS on her phone, the car GPS became mine. I learned to use it a little. If I had been a little sister, I would have worn hand-me-down dresses. As it was, I was a bigger little brother for the most part. Today, that means I got Anne's flip phone when she upgraded to a smart phone and I begrudgingly agreed to a cell phone. When I ruined by cell phone, I got Anne's smart phone and she upgraded to a new one. My point is that we now have a total of three GPS programs. Anne likes to research which is better one, so on the way to Hartford the car GPS and Anne's phone GPS were both on. Everyone knows siblings seldom get along and never agree. Instead of a delicious diner breakfast, I feasted on a steady diet of conflicting GPS comments. Take a right in 400 yards. Bear right in 1/2 mile. Continue on I-91S for 47 miles. Continue on I-91S for 50.5 miles. The culmination, as I steadied myself to enter the abyss of downtown Hartford, was the comfort of hearing ... Bear RIGHT in 400 yards onto I-84S ... Bear LEFT in 400 yards onto I-84-S. Anne and I agreed to take the risk. We cut off her GPS.
Much to my amazement, the route into Hartford and to our first destination, The Mark Twain Museum, was a breeze. Even better, the museum shared a parking lot with our second destination, The Harriet Beecher Stowe Center. In no time we had signed up for the combined tours of both facilities.
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While we waited for the tour to begin, we had just enough time to indulge ourselves with a couple of tourist poses. Like a Lego Mark Twain shot.
Or, a moment taking a walk in the author's shoes.
Our combined tour actually started with the Harriet Beecher Stowe house. We would discover later that is was clearly the less ornate of the two houses, but it was a warm and inviting house. We learned that Harriet Beecher Stowe was gifted in many areas and was definitely an activist for many causes. Her house was the gathering point and served as a catalyst for discussions of women's rights, slavery and abolition, voting issues, nutrition and many more. It was really hard to imagine what it might have been like to be a part of such a hotbed of thought and activity. We also discovered that Harriet came to Brattleboro at some point to visit a spa here for health reasons. I will have to do some research to find out what and where that spa actually was.
The second part of our tour was the Mark Twain House. It was a showpiece to be sure. The architecture was incredible and the intent of the design was beyond any doubt to impress those that visited. I love the intricate design of the exterior of the house and especially how the brickwork was done. The entryway and staircase was fantastic. They stenciled the walls with metallic paint patterns to brighten it up and reflect more light. The work was done by the Tiffany's, before they got into the Tiffany glass work. Twain was definitely a charismatic character and the tour reflect both the highs and the lows of his personal life. I did wish that both tours had done more to reference the literary work of each of the authors. I found when I visited the Emily Dickinson Museum in Amherst that the tour used frequents direct quotes from her work to tell her story. Surprisingly, there was not much of this done in the presentations we heard today, though there were quotes on walls and such in the museum centers. (What can I say ... once a teacher, always a teacher.)
Now ... take note of my brilliance ... I am sure you recall my hesitancy to drive in the city. I discovered that the restaurant that I wanted to go to was a mere 1.2 miles away ... right around the corner. It was chilly, but the sun was shining. I convinced Anne that it was so pretty that it was a shame not to stroll (not walk) over to the restaurant ... good exercise, check out the lay of the land. Brilliant!
And so, we went for a STROLL. In fact, the lay of the land seemed to be laying low and failed to impress. We did, however, happen upon the St. Joseph Cathedral.
I had read that it was worth a look and had some impressive stained glass. I love to check out the decadence of the cathedrals of the world. I do not, and never shall, quite understand how the extravagance of churches and their so-called missions to minister to less-fortunate for the world can be reconciled. Monuments to the unmet needs of the world. That's just me though!
I had targeted two possibilities for lunch. One was a hot dog joint (what a surprise) and the other was a barbecue restaurant (another surprise). Anne poo-pooed the hot dog right away, but went along with the idea that we might check out other places as we strolled. (Brilliant! There were no other places.) I must admit that sometimes there are other considerations in the choice of where one eats ... other than cuisine, atmosphere, quality of food, uniqueness ... shall I say ad nauseum? In this case, the real reason was the where, not the what. Asylum Street. How could I not choose a restaurant located on Asylum Street? End of discussion.
For lunch, I chose Black-eyed Sally's Bar-B-Que and Blues.
Barbecue and blues music. What a combination. How could anyone say no to barbecue and blues. If for no other reason, just the fact that it can be spelled so many different ways ... bar-b-que ... BBQ ... barbecue ... Pigs and flames and hot sauces. No-brainer. Think again. We stepped inside and suddenly my knees weakened ... I almost sunk to the floor in astonishment. we had arrived in Mecca.
On the wall above the hostess stand hung ... THE VELVET ELVIS. I was "all shook up".
We started with an order of chicken wings with the cherry pepper hot sauce.
Then, we shared a plate of the barbecued beef ribs, pulled pork and andouille sausage with red beans and rice and cheese grits. With a glass of "ice" (say that with a longggg I ) tea.
Before we left, I just had to have one picture of me ... with the King.
As luck would have it, our stroll and Black-eyed Sally's just happened to put us directly across the street from Bushnell Park. I had read about a a special arch located in the park, but assumed we would not be near enough to see it. Wrong again, thanks to our special stroll. The arch was located on the upper end of the park and we headed that way via a fountain that we could also see.
The fountain was a gift to the city from the John Corning in memory of their father who had run a grist mill on the site. On the base of the fountain were figures of Saukiog Indians and was topped with a figure of an elk, the symbol of Hartford.
Framing the view of the fountain in the distance was the old state house. Great view.
The Soldiers and Sailors Arch was only a couple hundred yards up the hill. It was a tribute to the 4000 Hartford citizens who served in the Civil War and the 400 that died.
We readied ourselves for our walk back to get the car. Before we headed out, however, we asked a passing jogger for direction to the Wadsworth Atheneum. Unbelievably, it was just the other side of the park ... kinda ... about a mile. Here's where you probably think I am making up this whole story. I promise, I'm not! We walked! We walked by the park carousel (closed) and a nice piece of sculpture in the pond.
I was looking forward to our visit to the Atheneum. It has a diverse collection ranging from contemporary to the masters. I particularly wanted to see the special exhibition it was having on Carravagio. I enjoyed it, cut must admit that I am drawn to the surrealists ... they had a great Klee ... and contemporary work in particular.
There was a a lot to see ... but then I saw this piece ... a bale of hay made out of toothpicks!
Okay, not everyone was enamored with the toothpick sculpture. Maybe it was the walking. Maybe it was all the sightseeing. Whatever ... some of us were starting to tire ...
We walked out of the museum and readied ourselves for our two mile trek back to the car. I remembered that there was supposed to be a couple more sites that I had hoped to see near the museum. I decided to check on the side of the museum ... just in case. To my surprise ... I found a Calder's Stegosaurus sculpture. It was a great find ... but the walk to the car was still two miles. except we took a shortcut. That make it about two an a half miles.
Needless to say, it was a long ride home. We were both exhausted, but we had had a great time. I know we will go back. Hartford holds many more things to see ... like the capital building ... and the Italian bakeries on Franklin Street ... and East Coast Hot Dogs on Asylum Ave and ... and ...
and ...
I must know ...
what is this blue dome
in the background
behind the museum?
Regardless of what you may have heard, it is not really difficult to select a great place to eat. That is especially true if you like to eat at local diners. There are sure-fired indicators. For example, you have to wait in line to get in the joint. I am not talking about that eat where the truckers eat crap. If you believe that , then crap is what you'll be eating for sure. I mean the place is packed with regular looking people. Those are the ones that look a little more presentable than you look. And they don't look pissed off, or worn out from working all the time. They actually look like they have the time and money to eat a good meal and they look like they are enjoying themselves, even though its before noon.
