The Next Dark Age
We're in it Now
King Spa and Sauna
I read an article about the King Spa and Sauna in the Chicago Tribune, so I went to check it out this morning. Yes. I realize that it is slightly ridiculous to go to the Sauna on a 95 degree day. But it is new and local (as in suburban with free parking) and interesting. The entrance fee is $25 (reduced to $20 for the Grand Opening this month), which gives you access to the facility for the next 24 hours. I would never stay for the full 24 hours because:
- No outside food or drink
- Once you leave the building, you are not allowed to come back in.
The attraction is a whole bunch of different saunas, tons of comfortable chairs, televisions, a movie room and even nap rooms. There are a couple of different spa services available for additional fees.
The tough part, for me, is the communal nudity of the spas – showers, hot tubs and cool pools off the locker rooms. These, of course, are separated by gender. But I don’t do naked. So I used the private shower, threw on the the “uniform” (t-shirt and shorts that do not come in black) and scurried out to the main lounge to find the salt sauna. And the Egyptian one:
The saunas were all great. My only complaint is that you really hear all of the noise in the lounge – people talking, television programs, vaccuum cleaners running – and that takes a bit away from the whole “relaxation”. I was there early, so I mostly had the saunas to myself – maybe my time would overlap with another person for a few minutes. The trouble with being there early is that not everything is available. There were at least two rooms that weren’t open yet, there was no movie running and the massage staff didn’t even arrive until I was near-ready to leave.
The restaurant, like the rest of the spa, is Korean. I have no sense of foodie adventure, so I had a simple glass of papaya juice. It was more like a smoothie and very tasty. But I have read that the baked eggs are fabulous and I saw one family that walked in the door and headed straight for the restaurant for huge bowls of soup. At 8:30 in the morning, so they must be good.
I will be happy to go there again. An annual membership is $1,500. I would never get my money’s worth out of that, but they do have a 10-visit package for $170. That might get me through next winter.
Forgetfullness, by Ward Just
Ward Just writes Washington and he writes Chicago, which is what attracted me to him in the first place. Forgetfullness, however, is set mainly in rural France. And that wasn’t the only departure.
We know from the summary that the hero’s wife is murdered after a fall on the mountain near his home in the Pyrenees. So when the novel opens and it is her point of view, it is just painful. She is all helpless and freezing to death and going through the “is he going to get here in time to save me”. I was reminded of that part in The English Patient when Katharine lay dying in the cave and the candle goes out. I thought that must be the most terrifying thing ever – totally helpless and then left in the dark. Then I thought, “No. When she lost consciousness, she was still convinced that he was coming. She didn’t know a thing when she died.” Florette, the wife, didn’t feel a thing at the end.
But this isn’t the usual murder mystery because Thomas, our hero, has some childhood chums in the CIA. Bad guys are caught and Thomas, in his grief, is faced with an interesting series of decisions regarding whether to face her killers and whether to attempt some kind of revenge. There are continuing references to the post 9/11 American psyche – which the expatriate Thomas doesn’t have. The title “Forgetfullness” runs a parallel to the concept of “forgiveness”.
I rather thought there was going to be some major climactic thing at the end. Not so much. I guess I have been reading too much McEwan lately. The final scenes are rather quiet and more cerebral. I liked it.
Ellis Island: Tracing Your Family History Through America’s Gateway, by Loretto Dennis Szucs
My library, like many, has several different displays with different themes to draw people to books. One is the “wallflowers”. The sign says:
“We never go out! Please give us a chance!”
That’s just mean.
So I picked up this little book. It is a brief history of Ellis Island with some statistics and tips for tracing your own geneology. That was all nice stuff. But the best thing the book gave me was a reminder of the inscription on the Statue of Liberty:
Fantasy Camp
Weekend Assignment #326: Off To Camp
Guess what? You have been offered the chance to be the keynote speaker at a world famous fantasy camp! Great! Tell us what kind of camp it is, and what makes you such an expert!
Extra Credit: Create a special logo for the Fantasy Camp you are speaking at! 🙂 Let’s get a little visually creative!
For a few minutes there, I couldn’t even think of a kind of fantasy camp, other than for one sport or another. Then I remembered Homer Simpson’s Rock & Roll Fantasy Camp. Then I drove by a Sportscaster Fantasy Camp at a park district the other day. And I guess Space Camp would count. The truth is that I don’t even know what Fantasy Camp I’d want to attend.
Maybe if they did a White House Correspondents’ Fantasy Camp. Where campers got to ride on Air Force One and e-mail in stories and have interns that did the research.
I work in HR and that is no one’s fantasy camp. I know a lot about being a student. Again – no one’s fantasy camp. So unless they do a Fantasy Camp for people that read a lot of books and blog about them – I’ve tapped out my expertise.
Vacation with Alex 2010 – Day 1
I arrived to pick up Alex shortly before 9am. He was still in his pajamas, but all packed and breakfasted. He was dragging his feet because he was watching something very important on the Disney Channel. I asked him what he wanted to do first when we reached Indianapolis.
“See the stadium.”
That would be Lucas Oil Stadium, where the Colts play.
We got him loaded into the car and he hardly noticed his parents waving goodbye. Just munching some pretzels and looking out the window. He didn’t even begin to grow bored for a good hour and that was when we hit a pretty bad traffic jam. Finally, we hit Fair Oaks Farms, my planned lunch stop.
The place was totally packed. I had never seen the place so packed. We only managed to sit down because a kind staffer that was wiping down tables took pity on us and held it for us.
So. Fair Oaks Farms doesn’t do processed American Cheese (obviously). So I am forced to choose between cheddar and swiss for our grilled cheese sandwiches. I ended up swapping halves so we each had one half of each, and I was a bit anxious because I know that he has reached the age of hard bargaining at mealtime. And he saw the ice cream the second we walked in the door. I’m not playing the “five more bites” game.
He was fine.
Here is the funny part. Fair Oaks Farm has stuff to do. There was a giant bouncy..thing. And a rock climbing wall. And other stuff that I didn’t even see because the kid said, “No, I’d rather keep going.”
Alrighty, then.
He got right back in the car and turned on his DVD player. At some point, he turned it off and took a nap. Then we got to the hotel. Not once did the child ask, “Are we there yet?” And there were no potty emergencies.
Awesome.
We got to the room and he decided to unpack. Put his clothes in the drawer and put the suitcase in the closet.
He is enamored with hotel rooms and now he doesn’t want to leave. I had to drag him out to see the Stadium. It took 30 minutes and he wanted to go back. Should we check out the museum across the street? How about the park? “Tomorrow.”
He walked back into the room and declared Naptime.
Naptime!
He didn’t actually take a nap. He just wanted to set up the bed with a fortress of pillows and lie in it. Then he took out his pajamas, “For when it is bedtime.”
We had an early dinner at the Friday’s adjacent to the hotel. We determined that we will head to the zoo in the morning. He fell asleep on the floor watching an extended episode of Scooby Doo.
So ends Day 1.
Annoying Calls at Work
As you may know, I don’t like to answer the phone. I pretty much refuse to do it unless I happen to be looking at the caller i.d. and happen to recognize the number. Also, if I am convinced it is a sales call, I probably won’t return it.
I was tricked not too long ago by someone calling “regarding CNA”, the company that once held some assets for my employer. I returned the call only to find out it was a recruiter, and the “regarding CNA” meant that CNA had been downsizing and they had some great candidates for me to hire!
That’s how you get blackballed, gang.
So when the caller i.d. at work said “BETHLEE LTD”, I didn’t answer. There was a voicemail:
“This is Sarah. Please return the call to 847/913-1750.”
I didn’t return the call.
The next day, I received a similar call from “Sandy”.
I didn’t return the call. This went on for a couple more days. Finally, I Googled BETHLEE LTD. Google didn’t quite cut it, so I did a reverse lookup on switchboard.com. Unlisted.
Really? A business was unlisted? Now I’m serious. I Googled the actual phone number and got this:
http://800notes.com/Phone.aspx/1-847-913-1750
Some kind of By Appointment Resale Shop. For women’s clothing. And they are calling me at work? This is why I have a blog people. You have been warned.
Weekend Assignment: Rewind to #312
Weekend Assignment #312: Write A Culinary Review.
Your reviews can be about a favorite restaurant, or a specific item on a menu. Packaged foods, or something you created yourself. It’s all up to you. Your take on it can be positive or negative, hey, it’s your opinion! 🙂
Extra Credit: Write one paragraph about the WORST thing you have ever eaten.
Well. You all know that I am about as gourmet as a five year old. In any given restaurant, I am likely to order the same thing over and over. So I will give you a menu item on which I have sold a ton of friends and colleagues. It comes from Stonewood Ale House, a Bar and Grill in Schaumburg. I am something of a regular. Some suburbanites will know it as “that place that used to be the Voodoo Lounge”.
It is called a Crispy Chicken Wrap and it is as it sonuds. “Crispy coated chicken with bacon, lettuce, tomato and honey mustard dressing. Wrapped in a tomato tortilla.” Of course, “crispy” means fried. But that really is required for two reasons:
1. Joy has tried it with grilled chicken and given it a thumbs down.
2. My friend Dee asked the waiter about the recipe and discovered that the batter – the “coating” – is Cap’n Crunch cereal. You can’t beat that.
Of course, I can’t live without going all high maintenance on everything, so I order mine with no tomatoes. I also substitute the pasta salad that it comes with for the house-made potato chips. I figured that if a restaurant bothers to make its own chips, they are probably good. I was correct. Incidentally, I also apply that rule to macaroni and cheese.
The worst thing I have ever eaten must have something to do with broccoli, but my worst restaurant experience was on one of my first ever business trips. My then-boss shamed me into trying something. Oysters Rockefeller. I told him that I don’t like oysters and he said this was totally different – all fully cooked and stuff. So I tried it.
That was the last time I ever let anyone talk me into trying something new.
Road Trip Rules
Next weekend my nephew, Alex, and I are going on a short road trip. We are driving to Indianapolis for two days. He is five years old and this will be his first vacation without his parents.
My brother’s family came over this weekend and Scott, Alex and I talked about it. I want the boy to have fun. I also want him to be a good traveler. More important, I want him to grow into a good traveling companion. I told him there would be some rules. OK, he said. What are the rules?
Me: Rule #1 – You can eat as much candy as you want.
Scott: (rolls his eyes.)
Alex: Whoaaa!!!
Me: But. Rule #2 – Everyone must try to go potty every time we stop.
Alex: I do that!
Scott: No, you do not. What happened when we went to the football game?
Alex: (looks at him blankly)
Scott: Remember the potty emergency in the car on the way home?
Alex: (still looking at him blankly)
Scott: Because you didn’t go potty when I said you should!
Alex: (calmly turns to me) What other rules?
Me: Rule #3 – Do not wake up anybody that is sleeping.
Alex: I can be quiet! I don’t wake up the girls when they are sleeping!
Me: OK, then. Last rule: Everyone gets a vote about what we do, but the driver gets to decide.
Alex: (seems skeptical) Hm. OK.
I was pretty encouraged.
The Unreachable Star: My Unauthorized Travels with Patti LuPone, by Maile Hernandez
I was saying last month that after hooking up with Maile on Facebook, I started reading her blog. What I didn’t say was that I hadn’t read her book. This is because the premise sort of spooked me. Over something like an 18-month period in 2006 and 2007, Maile developed a “fascination – at times star-struck enthrallment” with Broadway performer Patti LuPone. She travelled around the country, spending tons of money to see LuPone perform. She wrote fan letters. She bought flowers and other gifts. It seemed a bit too stalker-y to me and I, perhaps, didn’t really want to know that side of her.
Since the deaths of her husband, Conrad, and son, Max, she has been blogging regularly. Extremely raw and personal entries that feel exactly like reading a private journal. How utterly ridiculous for me to not have read her book. And I am so glad that I did, because this is the best I am ever going to know Conrad. And it was Conrad who put the fandom into perspective for me:
“You’ve seen how many of Patti’s shows, twelve? You’ve hardly ever talked to her. You’ve written fan letters, to an e-mail address that she set up, for that purpose. You’ve never remotely threatened her. You’ve never talked about weird sexual fantasies in your letters to her. You’ve never gone to her hotel room, or asked to go to her hotel room. You’ve never asked her to go to your hotel room. You’ve never called her up or called her people up, asking to talk to her, or gone to her house. Have you ever even contemplated doing any of those things?”
No. Of course not.
Over the course of the book, Maile began performing again. And then she began writing in earnest. And her stories of those struggles and triumphs, along with her stories of Max beginning to come out of his shell..are just like reading her blog. I loved it.
Swimming Lessons
My dog, Shadow, is 12 years old and has several health issues – one we haven’t even identified yet. But the arthritis in his hips has grown worse and the vet recommended hydrotherapy. As in going swimming – so as to get some exercise without the pressure on his joints.
The Next Dark Age 