[slideshow]
[slideshow]
It seems like it would be impossible to live in a city for years and find a neighborhood you’d never even seen before, but yesterday we did. I’ve heard about Cleveland’s Asiatown for years, but I never knew where it is or how to get there until I started waiting around for directions.
A few weeks ago, Ryan and I were in San Francisco with Pete and Erin, and we stumbled into the city’s famous, elaborate, and gorgeous Chinatown, which reminded me that I’d always heard of a similar place in Cleveland, but, until recently, it seemed like a bit of a myth to me. So I started looking for direction, and, last weekend before tap, I found an article in Scene with information about a new restaurant that’s opening soon there. According to the article, even about seven years ago, most of the storefronts in the area were boarded up, but now it’s a bit of a thriving neighborhood.
Last night, Ryan and I didn’t have much going on, so we ventured out in the snow for some Pho.( I know, I know, that only looks like it rhymes). We ended up at Superior Pho, a tiny place that had good reviews that, it turns out, were well deserved. It’s ensconced in a little mall-ish building, but it’s not too hard to find. And it’s worth hunting down because the food was really good. I had the Pho Chin, which is a Vietnamese soup with meat, noodles, and all kinds of vegetables. The broth is herby and limey – it’s really delicious. Ryan had the chicken fried rice. I’m not sure if that’s a Vietnamese dish or not, but it was pretty good, too. Not too far away from Superior Pho are other Vietnamese restaurants and also Chinese and Korean eateries. We stopped at Koko Bakery for some dessert, and there were tables of people all cozy and warm around 6 p.m. while the snow was falling outside.
Sometimes I find myself, in thought and in place, following the same paths over and over again. It’s easy that way. And it reminds me of the line from Walden when old Henry David went back to his house in the woods after he’d been gone for awhile. He noticed that the path he used to walk to the pond was there even though he’d been gone for some time, and it made him think about how people just follow the same paths they or others have always been on.
This is me stomping all over Thoreau's path.
“It is remarkable how easily and insensibly we fall into a particular route, and make a beaten track for ourselves. I had not lived there a week beforemy feet wore a path from my door to the pond-side; and though it is five or six years since I trod it, it is still quite distinct. It is true, I fear that others may have fallen into it, and so helped to keep it open. The surface of the earth is soft and impressible by the feet of men; and so with the paths which the mind travels. How worn and dusty, then, must be the highways of the world, how deep the ruts of tradition and conformity!”
Movies: If you haven’t been the Capitol Theatre’s Sunday morning movie yet, the next one is “All About Eve” coming up on Feb. 20. As some of you know, I’m on a quest to balance my regular viewing of trashy films with a dash of film culture. The last show was Humphrey Bogart’s “Maltese Falcon,” and it was pretty fantastic. It’s amazing how different movies were then. Everything is very dramatic, but I thought it was a lot funnier than I anticipated. It’s worth checking out, and this isn’t coming from someone who is even remotely snobby about her movie watching. “All About Eve” won all kinds of Academy Awards in 1950, and it’s about a woman, Eve, who is trying to steal another woman’s role on Broadway. If you go, you can also get discounts on brunch at Luxe, Latitude 41N, and Reddstone; unless, of course, you want to eat popcorn for breakfast, which, according to Ryan, isn’t all that awful.
Television: Hey, “Modern Family,” could your episodes get any more uncomfortable? You are the new “Office.” You make me wince repeatedly in every episode.
Check out my super-talented friends and former Washington Hall residents Mike Hughes, of Cleveland, and Tim Pitoniak, of New York, and their band School Night. They recorded this song in Cleveland last spring/summer. And this video is splendid. Ryan and I and a bunch of Mike’s friends are in the chorus in the background, and I feel like I need to brag about this because it’s probably the only time I’ll be asked to be part of some sort of musical endeavor. I’m off to eat cupcakes. Happy listening:
I’ve been out of town for the last few year’s on MLK Day, so I’m hoping to actually check out some of the free local concerts in Cleveland. There are some performances and art at House of Blues downtown and at Severance Hall. And several museums are offering free admission and shuttle rides in honor of the birthday of the great civil rights leader and nonviolent protester.
But if you don’t have a chance to do anything else, and you want to stay warm and cozy at home (or at work), take about 18 minutes to listen to his most famous speech.
We all know its most famous line, but I sometimes forget the fact that this man was able to take American’s greatest, oldest problem and convince people, with just words, that things needed to change. It’s hard to remember how powerful what he said was until you hear it again. When we listen to this in school, I hope that my students understand that they, too, can use words to change minds, when they encounter injustice. Dr. King, our young people are still learning from you words, and it was true when someone once said your life was only the beginning of your victory.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PbUtL_0vAJk
And, if you’re looking for one more short clip of the great Dr. King, check out the last and prophetic speech he gave before his death.
“Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.”
Here are a few pretty, pretty things to check out:
1. If you haven’t been to tiny, tiny Borderline in Lakewood for breakfast, go soon. Ryan and I haven’t gone here in months, so we met my mom and dad there on Saturday. My dad’s obsessed with their potatoes, so I finally tried them, and they are really, really flavorsome. From what I’ve heard, this place is run by two sisters. It’s tiny and cozy inside, which means there aren’t that many tables, but it’s worth the wait. Good coffee, Mexican themed breakfast (veggie breakfast quesadillas, for example), and polka-dot curtains. I love this place.
2) This lovely, artsy Cleveland blog has some beautiful photos of Cleveland shrouded in snow and this gorgeous song and video. Thanks for sharing pretty things, Dredgers Union!
3) Elephant Six is playing at The Grog Shop on St. Patrick’s Day. I feel like I don’t have the level of hipness required to completely understand what Elephant Six is, but it sounds like their concerts involve 14 people on stage trading instruments, and at least some of them are from Neutral Milk Hotel, which, according to the post-its on the CD’s at a local record store, created the best music to come out of the 90s. If you haven’t heard of them, listen to “The King of Carrot Flowers.” It’s so (you guessed it) pretty.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4avoEbGjYu0
The quest (I know it’s pretentious to call it a quest, but, after all, what’s more pretentious that submitting poetry for publication?)
This summer I did something on a whim.
I submitted a poem I wrote to a magazine. It was during that single productive week of summer before the days meld into a blur of books, sun, sweating drinking glasses, and dirty feet. And I kind of forgot about it until I got a email saying that my poem had been accepted for publication.
And it wasn’t until then that I realized how stupid it is to write things and never show them to anyone. A few months later the literary magazine that accepted my poem printed my bio, but forgot to print my poem (ha!), which doesn’t really lend much credibility to the stunning nature of the poem I submitted, but made me think that maybe I should try to submit things in a few other places. I have so many friends who do creative things and share them, and I rarely do that, mostly because I’m a wimp. So here’s my effort not to be, even if I’m no good, even if only my bio is worth printing. Here’s me not being a wimp. Yawp!
Right now I’m reveling in the glory that is rejection notices and waiting.
Wish me luck. I’m hoping for you, too, creative friends.
I’m not sure if I’m more excited to return to Southern Ohio for the first time in years or to race over logs in a river, but I am pretty excited for June’s Warrior Dash.
If you live in or near Ohio, haven’t already signed up, and aren’t one of my many pregnant friends (this is so up your alley, Melissa), I request that you join me in this because it’s not possible that it won’t be fun. After all, the fire-jumping is required. Click here to register.
If you are on this list, you’ve expressed interest in the Warrior Dash, and now you’ll look like a weenie if you don’t sign up: Ryan, Kyle, Burns, Becky, Jen, Mark, Darren, Ann Marie, Jeannie…
Forbes says everyone should pity us for being the second snowiest city in American, but I say embrace the variety. Life would be duller if every day was sunny, and I honestly look forward to the semi-apocolypic news casts and end-of-the-world/cramps-in-my-hands-as-I grip-the-steering-wheel drives to work. Variety, they say, is the tra la la of life. But if you, like me, love the snow, but find yourself falling asleep on the couch at 6:30, here are a few things I’ve found lately (and I’ve been hunting) to keep yourself awake and entertained. If, of course, you don’t mind a slightly scary drive. For the record, No. 1 was Denver. Way to go, Burns and Becky.- Fridays @ 7 — The orchestra is trying to pump up their under-70 crowd, so every Friday they’re having a one-hour orchestra performance bookended on both sides by non-orchestra music, drinks, and appetizers. If you’ve ever listened to NPR, you’ve probably heard this guy’s name about 6,000 times: Franz Welser-Möst. Now you can check out his sweet hair and his even sweeter conducting skills. For some reason, I don’t usually get jazzed to go to the orchestra, but I am always moved– as in transcendentally — when I go.
The Happy Dog — This is on my new no-plans, go-to list. Ryan and I have been talking about going here for months, and we finally went last weekend with Erin and Pete. This bar/restaurant in the Detroit shoreway neighborhood has music almost every night, super friendly bar tenders, and a good, mixed crowd of people. Their menu has two items: hot dogs a
nd tater tots, each with a gangling list of festively-titled condiments (see right). Also, check out Ryan hanging with the Elvis lamp, his muse in hair styling. This place is a great winter hangout. And that deserves an exclamation point. Really, it wasn’t so bad.
Water for Elephants: I love almost everything about this book about a college student who literally stands up, walks out of class, and finds himself in a field when a train comes by. He jumps on, realizes it’s a circus train, and gets a job. It reminds me of “Big Fish,” which reminds me of everything I love about American literature. Let me know if you’d like to borrow it.
Dolores Goodwin: I wish you were around, so I could email you about this book. And I’d like to know what you’d be reading.
Mimi Schwensen: Is a former Rockette who charitably offers her tap-dancing wonderskills to the uncoordinated Clevelanders at the Beck Center (ie: me, Erin). And you will get your own post because you completely rock.
My students: Thank you for understanding that yesterday I was wearing a hat that looked like a crab. Instead of revolting, which is the most logical reaction, Darrick, you put on a princess hat, and Quin, you put on a Renaissance-style skirt. And then we talked about the motifs of light and darkness in Romeo and Juliet.
Barack Obama: Thanks for doing four fantastic things in one week. Faith renewed!
“I’m still stressed,” you say?: In case this really was the worst day of the year for you, remember that we’ll get more sunlight every day, and pretty soon it won’t be dark at 4:30. Press play, put your head back, close your eyes, and listen to some blues.