A little bit of home in London: Jersey Boys

After years of not being able to get tickets in New York (partially because I was only in the state for brief periods at a time and more with the incredible cost), I was able to score a pair to see the show here in London.

It was GREAT!

A couple of things struck me though about the London theater-going experience, especially since I expected them all to be snooty, uptight, Victorian types.
1) You don't get a Paybill or any sort of complimentary program when you enter. - Rather disappointing
2) You can take your drink from the bar with you to your seat. - Not the case in NY
3) Ushers don't hound you the minute you pull out a camera. My friend Julie was able to take 2 pics of us before the performance started without someone dashing over threatening to remove us or confiscate the camera. - Also, not the case in NY
4) After intermission there was no light dimming or universal announcement to return to your seats. We were back in time yet I still missed that "familiar" signal. - Obviously that's how it's done in New York.

Okay, so on to the show. I knew part of the story - the simple aspect that these guys had gotten into a few scrapes with the law before hitting it big. What I didn't know was all of the turmoil and other stuff that had gone down. It was entertaining and informative (E/I - just like those old "Saved by the Bell" episodes).

The humor was great, although I think most of it was lost on the London crowd who I guess just don't get what it's like to be an Italian from Jersey. Me, an Italian from New York, with roots in the old neighborhoods and countless family stories told over incredibly large holiday meals - I get it.

I don't want to give it away considering I'm probably not the only person back east who wanted to see it but couldn't afford a ticket, but it's a real roller coaster of emotions. What makes it more powerful, of course, are the songs. Especially when you get to "My Eyes Adored You".

Later in the show you're scratching your head wondering what is "this song" that Bobby is so sure is a hit and the record companies and radio stations won't play. Then when Frankie comes out and you hear the first few notes, you almost smack yourself in the head and wonder "what the F were these guys thinking? That's a great F-ing song." Well, if your from NY or NJ you say that. Everyone else can just wonder why it didn't originally get airplay.

It gets sad and happy again from that point on. But in the end, you have a great finale number and even if it took a few years and flying across the Atlantic, you know it was worth it.

Country Roads: Part 6 - On the way to Uncle's

Country Roads Part 6 - On the way to Lou's

Okay where I was I? Oh yea, Sikeston, Missouri in a really nice suite. So I did the usual, woke up, had breakfast, showered and jumped back in the car. Although this day was unlike all of the others, today was the day that I was going to make it to Memphis, Tennesse and get some of Uncle Lou's Fried chicken (as seen on the Food Network). It's not much of an exaggeration to say that it was actually Uncle Lou's which inspired this whole trip across the country.

I had seen it on TV and wanted it. Then I thought to myself - "honestly, when the hell am I ever going to go to Memphis?" Well I made up a reason, to get back to NY from SF. Sure, it's not the most direct route, but like I said, otherwise when would I really ever go to Memphis?

So in the car I hit the push button start and was on my back onto the highway south. I will admit that I got a little nervous for a minute when I saw the sign welcoming me to Arkansas because I had completely missed the fact that my route would take me through R Kansas for about half an hour. Once I had successfully cleared one of the states I was pretty sure that I'd never go to, I was into Tennessee. I was excited. And hot, it was already in the mid-90s and we're not even at noon yet.

As the in car thermometer hit 102 the GPS guided me into the non-tourst part of Memphis where I found Uncle Lou's Famous Fried Chicken in small and somewhat suspicious looking strip mall.

I walked in and despite the fact that there was a Dallas Cowboys flag hanging for some sort of fundraiser or something, I felt right at home. I quickly looked over the menu and decided on the mixed 3 piece meal with Sweet Spicy Love (the mild variety) and a large version of Uncle Lous cool aid. I took a seat at one of the tables and about 10 minutes or so later the man himself, Uncle Lou, emerged from the kitchen with my order. The meal came with french fries and a honey biscuit, both of which were just alright, but the chicken. Oh the chicken. Yeah, it was incredible. Sweet, Spicy Love is the sauce that our sauces should aspire to be. After a great meal I bought a bottle of SSL to bring home to mom to make her KFC take out, awesome.

Back in the car and it's about 105 degrees now as I make towards Kentucky. A few flash rainstorms (my first precipitation of the trip) got the temperature down to a cool 95 degrees. The incredibly hot temperatures have since caused a problem with my memory and I don't really remember the rest of Tennessee. I did stop at a gas station/souvenoir stand to pick up some gifts for my mom and grandfather (he was station in Tennessee during the war and really loved it) but other than that, I don't remember anything else.

Inside of Kentucky I had to fill up at a gas station, I think someways past Frankfurt. I ran in to grab a bottle of water as the temp had gone back up to 97, and was utterly shocked at the incredibly beautiful girl working at the counter. I noticed her as I walked in and made my way to the cooler to grab a bottle of water. As I picked out a bottle I started trying to figure out what the hell she was doing there. She was beauitful so why would she be working in a gas station in the middle of nowhere Kentucky? In NY she would have at least had a photo casting call to model...uhm, something but in Kentucky she was rotting away at a gas station. I wished I didn't have a carload of crap so that I could offer to take her away from this boring life (and 97 degree heat) and bring her back with me to the big city.

I paid for my water and she asked if I needed anything else. My head finally caught up and I scrolled through possible responses about asking for her number, or to run away with me. Instead though, I declined her offer and got back into the car to once again wish I had said something different.

Drove the rest of the way to Lexington where I stayed at a Red Roof Inn. It was pretty pricey but like most nights, I was exhausted when I got there and wasn't going to bother trying to drive around for a better rate. So I unpacked, showered and hit the bed. I was pretty close now - in the Eastern time zone, so it wouldn't be long now.

Preparing for the Zombie Apocalypse

Before I left SF I made a trip to a local shooting range with a friend from school. I was psyched because I had always wondering what it felt like to fire a real firearm. So we headed over the Golden Gate Bridge and made a left just slightly past San Quentin prison.

Inside the range we got to choose our weapon. My goal was to fire a SIG P229 (the standard issue sidearm of NCIS), but had to confess to the guy at the counter that I have never fired live ammo before.

He gave us a .22 revolver and a box of 50 bullets. We also got to choose our target, which was easy since there was a freakin zombie target. I was excited to pump some lead into him.

Out on the actual range, I hung up our zombie, loaded the revolver and squeezed off all six rounds. Due to the small caliber of the bullets I couldn't tell where I had hit on the target. I immediately understood why .22s are for women. Chelsea and I switched off until we had gone through the case of bullets. Afterwards we headed back to the counter to get a bigger gun.

This time I asked for the SIG. We got it and went back to the range, where on my first shot it jammed. Realizing that trying to fix it myself, without a knowledge of how it works could potentially be fatal, I went back to the counter. The guy came back to the range with us and started working on the gun. After a few minutes he declared that the firing pin had broken and we would need another gun. Back at the counter he asked what I would like to go with. Unfortunately I was only able to fire one shot with my Tony Dinozzo SIG, so I told him to just give me anything that would fire the ammo we had just bought (9mm).

This one had weight and the first shot felt much more satisfying than any of the .22s. We polished off our ammo pack and I bent down to police my brass and take a few casings as souvenirs. We exited and paid and then grabbed a quick lunch at In N' Out.

It was only when I got home and looked at my souvenirs that I realized I picked up the wrong shells. I had a .22 from the revolver and meant to have a .9mm from each of the two pistols but upon further inspection I had picked up two .45 caliber shells. it was a bit sad that I grabbed the wrong ones, but I'm still keeping them to remember this experience by.

The Container Store - where wallets go to lose weight

In preparation for my trip to London I headed to the Container Store on Market Street in San Francisco, after my sister informed me of a travel sale they were having. My plan was to pick up a few items - a couple of space bags (those vacuum type bags), a voltage converter and perhaps a pack-it cube to store some underwear type garments.

That was the plan at least.

When I walked in I was instantly bombarded with how much awesome stuff they had. Then to top it off they were having a demonstration on how to pack efficiently for your travels, starting in about 10 minutes, with a chance to win a $25 gift card. So I browsed aimlessly for a bit and then attended the session. It was only slightly informative, but it was nice to see the products in use in person. Unfortunately I did not win the gift card, which sucks because it really would have helped.

I started winding my way through the aisles, picking up small accessories, like a TSA travel lock, a collapsable drinking cup, a pair of small carabiners (to attach water bottles and other things to my laptop bag) 2 pairs of outlet converters, 2 packs of space bags (which contained 2 bags each), 2 pack-it cubes and the 20" pack-it folder, which is capable of holding up to 15 shirts/pairs of pants. Then there were all of the items I talked myself out of buying.

At the check out counter I held my breath as my total came up. It was something like $88. I was both horrified and relieved. I honestly could spend a few hundred dollars there.

Bless you container store, for you are wonderful.