Lilacia!

Ben, my soulmate, best friend, and adorable scallywag STOLE these flowers! He might not want to admit it, but his love is so true that he crept onto someone's property and actually stole these flowers for me, knowing how thrilled I would be to savor their tender perfume (and how excited I'd be to know my hubby risked at least a possibly arched eyebrow or, at most, a Clint Eastwood-inspired "Get off my lawn" showdown.)

What he braves for me!

He knows lilacs are my favorite flower, a partiality my Mom handed down to me. Mom would always trim back the lilacs, gathering hte delicate branches to nestle in vases and jam jars around the house. Lilacs from her backyard bush center stage in my wedding day bouquet.

On Monday, we'll be selling the portion of my parents' property, the portion where the lilacs reside - if they're even still thriving. We're selling the land at a loss, but it's just time to let it go and let the family who bought my childhood home take over the lot.

I'll be requesting to come over and take a cutting from the lilacs. No idea if they'll take; they're ancient. If they don't, I now know of a bush in unincorporated Elmhurst where I can go, wearing a cat burglar suit, armed with garden clippers.

Love Shack Baby!

No word can sum up the excitement I'm feeling right now. I think "transplendent" has been used before, in an old SNL sketch, so I can't coin that one. It’s something close to that, some sort of excitetritude, some kind of benestaticness (no, that sounds like my husband is in need of hairspray on his pants, and that’s just odd.). No, the kind of excitement I’m feeling is closer to that which I felt before the first time in twenty-seven years I went to Disneyland. Or the euphoria that swept over me as Ben and I flew off on our honeymoon while the Act I finale from “Sunday in the Park with George” played on my headset and I was so happy I was weeping.

No tears here, but bubbly, solar plexus-tingling dandelion yellow pure glee.

I found the website I heard about for a while, I visited it and I learned what I needed to know. And that information has infused one of my upcoming Roadtrips with that extra bit of shucksidarned greatness that I’m so needing for my project, especially since I’ve been off the Road for months, been battling ennui that’s come from having less v.o. work overall, and, more than likely, dealing with a little seasonal affective disorder, even with all the caffeine I ingest to hopefully rectify the complaint.

The website is www.kateslazymeadow.com. The Kate in question is one Kate Pierson of the lauded-since-I-was-sixteen B-52s. She and her partner found an old motel in the Catskills, renovated the shacks and cabins, dragged over a small army of groovy Airstream trailers, furnished everything with coveted Mid-Century geegaws and doodads and opened her dream B&B back in 2004.

But it’s only been in the last few days, when Ben and I realized that our next Roadtrip would include Pennsylvania and Upstate New York, that the reality of our staying there came within the realm of the "for real."

I’ve checked out the photos, taken an online tour. Turquoisey walls, checkered red and white sofas, tikis, and kidney-shaped just about anything. Kate’s and my aesthetic run poodle nose to poodle nose on a great circle skirt of shared quirkiness. Plus, since it’s located in the Catskills, there will inevitably be a supper club nearby, for Rob Roys and shrimp cocktails.

Ms Pierson, your inn was opened for you, but it was made for me. Thank you in advance for the Prell and Cashmere Bouquet in the bathroom.

Hey God! Thanks for the big blue marble!

Taken from the top of the Ferris Wheel at Santa's North Pole Workshop in Colorado (it's dubbed "the tallest Ferris wheel in the world" as it's at the foot of Pike's Peak).

Just breathe in the fir trees and the gorgeous blue sky. What do YOU see in the clouds?

Happy Earth Day!

Buds 'n Bees

The flowering bushes were teeming with bees and the fragrance of the lilacs pulled me in and I really came very close to poking my nose directly in said flowering bushes, not caring for the bees either way.

But they were teeming, buzzing, dive bombing and showing off, those bees. They had their own agenda.

We kept walking after I shot some photos, the lilacky smell accompanying us.

The bees kept to themselves (a good thing, probably).

(Idlewild Park, August 6, 2009)

Almost fits the bill...

Yet not quite. It's a sticky wicket, really. Many of the early Six Flags parks date back to 1971. For my project, I'm looking at parks which opened prior to 1970, so they don't fit, yet they almost do. But... would I include them even if they did?

I feel like I just shook the hand of a dirty dealer, realizing my mistake in the nick of time.

I recall Fairyland Park closing back in the 70s. I also recall folks saying, "Well, it was its time -- and it certainly ISN'T Six Flags!" which meant it certainly didn't have the thriller rollercoaster and the double-decker merry-go-'round and the Warner Brothers characters greeting you at the gate.

True. It also didn't have charm and heart. You couldn't park on the street and walk right in, buy as many tickets as you liked rather than an exorbitant fee, buy your popcorn and cotton candy for pennies, or sit quietly under the grandfather trees which used to canopy the area when it was a gypsy camp. Six Flags had concrete and steel, not shade and wood and sugar-scented air.

As tempting as it might be for me to include one of the early Six Flags parks (it may conveniently be on the return route of one of my Roadtrips), it just feels wrong. When Six Flags came to Gurnee, IL, it took over the amusement park atmosphere much like a Walmart takes over a small town, nudging out the little guy. The Mr. Potter of amusement parks.

"You're nothing but a warped, frustrated old man," said George Bailey, after refusing the offer he was almost tempted to take from Potter, which would've compromised his integrity, turning over the Building and Loan to a snake.

Thanks, George. You saved me an empty gesture.

Sunday on the blog with photos!

As much as we tried, the ducks and I couldn't get our acts together for that "Let's re-create the cover of "Abbey Road" moment. However, they still managed to have a lovely day, and so did Ie,venthough it was slick and drizzly. They waddled off, letting the water roll much like it would off a duck's back, cuz, well...

I went shopping.

Dutch Village, on a rainy day at the end of the 2009 season.

Wondering where they are now...

I've used the accompanying photo as my profile picture on Facebook. I found it while doing a Google search on Kiddieland months back. I think some of my friends got confused and thought it was a photo of Ben and me at Kiddieland as kids (which would be impossible unless we were time travelers). The sheer joy and unbridled thrill on the faces of these kids just tickles me. In a grey, fuzzy mood? Whip out this photo (no pun intended, as they're riding the Roto Whip) and it'll surely dispel the most dismal of moods.

But it got me wondering: who are these kids and where are they today? The ride pictured here is Kiddieland's Roto Whip, a truly wonderful vintage ride WF Mangels dating back to 1939. Imagine the hundreds, no, more like thousands of children who've thrilled to the whip and whir of the ride over the years. Judging by the clothing here, I'd say this was taken sometime in the late 40s through the 50s. These kids are more than likely entitled to a senior discount at the movies by now.

This ride obviously touched the hearts of so many kids and their parents, who were forever rewarded with the memory of Sally or Tommy giggling gleefully, then snapping a photo to make it stick. Interestingly, it was up for sale on Ebay just this past week, with a starting bid of $10,000.

It received no bids.

Hello out there! Anyone interested in giving this ride a new home? Anyone? Buehler?

(Maybe these kids are named "Buehler", you never know. Maybe I'll Google "Buehler")