Fans And Friends Reunite For Twin Peaks Festival

Many people have an annual trip or tradition that they look forward to every year. For me and the nerdiest of my cohorts, that event is the Twin Peaks Festival, a weekend-long celebration of the seminal cult TV series that ran on ABC from 1990-91. After my first introduction to the show's existence via a memorable line from "Clueless" in 1995, I formally discovered and watched it years later while I was in college. I was immediately struck by the show's quirky characters, surreal tone, and stunning cinematography. I'm proud to be a member of its devoted legion of fans, especially in light of the series' forthcoming return on Showtime in 2016.

The festival is held in and around North Bend, Washington, about 30 minutes east of Seattle (depending on traffic, but more on that later!) The picturesque beauty and small-town charm of the area made it an ideal region for filming the show -- as seen in the pilot episode and exterior/establishing shots used in the duration of the series -- and much of its follow-up film, "Fire Walk With Me." As I prepared for my fourth journey to this one-of-a-kind destination, I knew that I was due for another great experience along with the other 200-plus attendees, many of whom are repeat guests like myself.

My trip, on the other hand, didn't get off to the greatest start. Frontier Airlines has become increasingly awful in the last year, thanks to the nickel-and-diming of their fees for just about everything. The icing on the cake (well, flight) was that my departure to Seattle on Tuesday the 21st was delayed by over an hour with zero explanation. I've been on the fence about Frontier for a while, but I'm seriously considering never flying with them again.

After picking up my rental car on Wednesday afternoon, I ventured from my airport hotel into the city. I had made plans to meet up with Aaron, a friend from Denver who moved to Seattle last year. In the delightful and happening Ballard neighborhood, we hit three different but equally awesome places (Root Table, Matador, and King's Hardware) for beverages and various small-plate cuisine. We talked for hours about life, love, work... and, of course, why Twin Peaks is such a big deal after all this time.

On Thursday, I spent the afternoon at the EMP (Experience Music Project) Museum, an incredible mecca for music and pop-culture fanatics. In addition to their permanent and touring exhibits, the museum has an outstanding interactive music lab, where you can experiment with vocals, instruments, and mixing on studio-quality equipment. Upon leaving the museum at 3:30, I thought I had plenty of time to get out of the city before rush hour hit. WOW, was I wrong! Instead, I had my worst encounter to date with the dreaded beast known as Seattle traffic.

I've run into minor snags here and there during previous visits, but this was something else. I should have reached North Bend in 45 minutes tops, but I arrived two hours later. Nearly an hour of that was just getting from the museum to the highway, which are only about a mile apart. People think it's the rain that makes Seattle unbearable, but it's always been beautiful during my visits, so maybe the city should be more honest about its other shortcomings. I finally checked in at the North Bend Motel that evening and met up with fellow fans before going to a pre-festival mixer at the Fall City Roadhouse (one of the filming sites). All of us were able to get a head-start on catching up with old friends and making new ones.

Friday morning officially kicked off the festival with check-in, merchandise tables, and a trivia contest that gets more difficult with each round. Making it to the top three finalists is no easy feat, which I've learned the hard way. Year one, I was too intimidated to even try. Year two, I made it through the first round and was eliminated in the second. Last year, I made it through the second round and went out in the third, and that held true this year too. At least I did the same and not any worse!

When trivia was over, we ventured back to the motel and had lunch at Rocko's, a local legend of a diner right across the street that we've been meaning to try. After a few hours of relaxing downtime, we got ourselves all dressed up and headed to the clubhouse at the Snoqualmie Ridge Golf Course for the festival's signature event: the celebrity banquet. Over the years, various combinations of the cast and crew have made appearances to meet the fans and autograph show memorabilia. This year, Phoebe Augustine, Catherine Coulson, Kimmy Robertson, and Charlotte Stewart -- who have each attended during at least one of my previous visits -- were joined by Gary Hershberger, Jonny Leppell, and Ian Buchanan. To avoid long waits in line, I skipped the ladies (to whom I was able to say hello at other points during the weekend) in order to meet those gentlemen for the first time.

During the Q&A session, the big questions on everyone's minds were about the upcoming season: who's returning, what's happening, etc. Creator David Lynch made the actors sign non-disclosure agreements, but an audience member used his question to joke that as an attorney, he could find a way around the NDAs. Lynch himself was unable to attend, but he wrote a statement that was read on his behalf, asking for fans to be patient with the process and to respect the mystery. Since we live in a digital age that is far removed from the show's original run 25 years ago, his chief concern is preserving the sense of wonder and surprise that can be ruined by tidbits and spoilers when watching a show doesn't happen simultaneously.

The great thing about being so close to a major city is that there's always something to do, especially when there's a longer break in the schedule. For a group of us with several festivals under our belts, we skipped the Saturday bus tours of the filming locations and ventured back into Seattle for a Mariners baseball game. (Go figure that this time, traffic wasn't an issue in either direction!) Safeco Field offers a beautiful view of the skyline, and the weather was perfect for a day at the ballpark. The Mariners were playing the Toronto Blue Jays, and I was shocked not only by how many Canadians made the trek to see the game in person, but also by how surly they were as fans. I thought Canadians were supposed to be nice, but these people were pretty vocal and they booed at everything. We had a running joke during the game about taking over Canada because the country was probably empty.

On the way back to North Bend, thoughts of world domination turned to thoughts about dinner, and we stopped in Issaquah (two towns over) to dine at Aji, our favorite sushi restaurant in the area. That night, the festival rented out the local movie theater to show the winning entries from the short-film contest as well as rare clips and archival footage related to "Peaks" phenomena and its actors. The main feature was "Fire Walk With Me," but since it was already shown at three of the last four years' movie nights, several of us decided to stimulate the local economy with a trip around the corner to The Pour House.

Sunday started off cloudy and rainy, but it cleared up enough for the festival to hold its annual picnic in Olallie State Park. In addition to lunch, there's a short walking tour of other nearby filming locations as well as a Tibetan rock-throwing contest and a cherry stem-tying contest -- both of which are inspired by famous scenes from the show. We also found out the winners of the caption contest, where four random stills from the series are displayed over the weekend for comments to be entered. While I have yet to win despite submitting an entry for each photo every year, this was the first time that I received an honorable mention. Trivia be damned; I'm moving up in the world!

A few hours later -- after the first wave of goodbyes with people who had to leave early -- we reconvened in downtown North Bend for dinner and drinks at Boxley's, a classy little jazz club with a great menu. Our favorite server from previous years was even there to happily wait on us once again! When the rain and cooler temperatures cancelled our planned outdoor karaoke night, we decided to throw our own party at the motel. Room 17 became the local hotspot, full of music, dancing, and a whole slew of inside references and running jokes that went until the wee small hours of the morning.

Even though I've attended four consecutive festivals, there are still opportunities to do or see things for the first time. In my case, it was Monday's group outing to the Kiana Lodge. The lodge was a pivotal filming site for an iconic scene (the discovery of Laura Palmer's body that opens the series), but it's much farther away from our event "headquarters" and it hasn't always been part of the formal itinerary. This year, the organizers opted to rent out the space for a few hours so we could walk around and take thousands of pictures (quite literally if you added them up across all of the attendees). As morbid as it sounds, we also had a unique chance to be wrapped in plastic on the beach and posed like Laura. It's true: only nerds could be this insensitive and get away with it!

When the Kiana excursion was over, the official functions had concluded. The last day of the festival is always a bittersweet occasion; even the addition of this extra day couldn't delay the inevitable. Thankfully, many of us were still in the area for another day or so, and we kept the spirit alive by stopping for a group dinner in Bremerton on the way back to North Bend. More farewells were exchanged, but the brave, final few that were still in town went back to the motel for one last hurrah. It was a decidedly smaller-scale event than the previous night, but we were all too full of energy and emotion to do anything productive like pack or sleep. Instead, we laughed and hugged the night away, doing our best to prepare for the morning's parting of the ways.

As inadvertently long as this post ended up becoming, it's actually only the tip of the festival iceberg. There are so many unforgettable moments from this year and my previous years that could easily fill countless pages out in cyberspace. One day, I may just have to write a book about all of this. 2016 will make it a nice, round five years that I've attended, so that may be a more auspicious occasion. Until then, these very general reminders of such a fantastic weekend will have to tide me over. At the very least, it'll help keep these memories -- and the show -- alive for fans both present and future.

Not A Bean To Be Found In Boston

I don't always like to travel. This may be surprising, especially considering the number of trips I've taken in the last few years, but it comes down to enjoying the shared moments -- rather than the increasingly cumbersome process of getting to and from each place. This was especially evident in my lack of enthusiasm for Friday morning's flight to Boston, which left Philadelphia at 8:30. This isn't normally early, mind you, but it meant arriving at the airport by 6:30, which IS early when you're supposed to be on vacation!

Transit options to the airport at that hour weren't as timely as we had hoped, so Chris continued his winning streak by using a $20-off Uber promo code that he got from one of ISTE's exhibit booths. The fare was only $18, so we ended up getting a free ride! Upon reaching the airport, I wasn't really sure what to expect. It was my first time flying with JetBlue, since they had the only reasonably priced airfare between Philly and Boston, but the experience was pleasant enough. Even though we were flying on July 3, our flight number was (appropriately) 1776. If nothing else, it was definitely a relief to have a pre-assigned seat after paying selection fees with Frontier and braving boarding groups with Southwest for so long.

I have it on good authority that you're not supposed to call Boston "Beantown," despite its legitimate historical claim as one of the originators of baked beans. But the phrase is in local advertising, in the names of stores and restaurants... it must be a double standard to prevent tourists from fitting in! After the free airport line shuttle connected us to the subway station, we arrived at our hotel. The Boston Park Plaza is situated in the Back Bay neighborhood and within a block of the Boston Common park. Scenic AND centrally located for all of our transit needs. If you guessed that we were tired of walking by this point, you guessed correctly!

After acclimating to yet another set of new surroundings, I was thrilled to discover that there was a Shake Shack in the area. We had missed chances to try them in New York in March and in Philly earlier in the week, so I didn't want to miss out again! For the record: yes, Shake Shack is pricey depending on what you order, but yes, it's also as delicious as everyone says. For $16, I got a double ShackBurger, an order of fries, and vanilla frozen custard with pieces of whoopie pie blended into it. Beyond steep by typical fast-food standards, but that's close to what you would pay for all of that at a sit-down restaurant, and Shake Shack's quality does rival that of its more gourmet competitors. Everything was fresh and cooked to order, and you can tell from the first bite that this is no ordinary burger. (Someone get me the recipe for Shack Sauce, stat!) The fries were crinkle-cut -- my second favorite kind after curly -- with the right amount of crunch, and the custard was great on its own even without the toppings. It's probably for the best that Shake Shack hasn't made it to Colorado yet. While it would be cost-prohibitive to eat there with any degree of regularity, I would certainly be amenable to treating myself from time to time.

Refueled and recharged for the day's exploration, we first headed to Old North Church, the site of the legendary hanging lanterns warning the colonists that the British were coming. It's a beautiful and well-preserved building, and I didn't realize that it's actually still used today for Episcopal services. They even have the original square pew boxes that families would purchase for private use. Honestly, I would feel uncomfortable being in an important landmark on such a regular basis. I wouldn't want to be the one to break anything at such a nice, old church!

Continuing our historical journey, we also visited the Paul Revere House, home of the famed midnight rider who helped spread the news heralded by the church's lanterns. The area around the house is currently undergoing an expansive renovation project, which will hopefully improve the quality of information that is available as well as the flow of visitors through the site. As is, there's not a whole lot to see, and it's way too many people crammed into one rather small house. Given that we were even closer to Fourth of July than when attempting to see Philly's patriotic sites, I was surprised by how quickly we were able to get in and out of the house.

We weren't as lucky later that afternoon, when we took one of the harbor ferries (free with our transit pass) over to the Charlestown Navy Yard. We saw the USS Constitution, which is the oldest commissioned ship in the world. And by saw, I mean we literally just looked over at it; the lines to board the vessel were astronomical and the yard was closing soon. Boston is a city so full of history and unique places to explore that you could probably spend several weeks there and still not get to do everything! After a brief detour so I could pose in front of the converted fire station that was used as "The Real World: Boston" house (yes, I am THAT much of a pop-culture junkie!), we consoled ourselves with a fabulous Italian meal at Antonio's Cucina in the Beacon Hill neighborhood. While my eggplant parmigiana was the first parmesan dish I've ever had that wasn't breaded, it was a generous portion -- possibly the whole eggplant -- with a hearty red sauce and a perfect blend of cheeses. Near the end, though, I did wish for a little breading, as the eggplant became a bit soggy under the weight of the sauce and cheese with no outer layer to protect it. (I know: picky, picky...)

Saturday's adventures spanned more towns outside of the metro area. In the morning, we took a commuter train into the one and only Salem, the witchiest place on Earth. Society may never know what started all of that trouble or what really happened during the witch trials, but the town sure does have fun explaining it. After touring the Witch House, home to chief judge Jonathan Corwin during the trials, we walked down the picturesque main street and caught glimpses of the Witch Museum (poorly regarded and thus skipped) and the House of the Seven Gables (well-regarded but we ran out of time). We severely underestimated how much there is to do and see in Salem, and our brief visit barely scratched the surface. We could plan a whole trip around just that town... as long as it's not in the fall. Apparently, some holiday in October brings out all the crazies!

I have family in Andover, which isn't too far from Salem, so we got together at their house for a few hours on Saturday afternoon and into the evening. My aunt Kathy, my cousin Meagan, and Meagan's husband and son were there, as well as my other cousin Nick and his wife and daughters. It was a mini-reunion for my mom's side of the family! Everyone finally got to meet Chris (except Aunt Kathy, who met him when she was in Colorado in April), and I got to meet Harrison, Meagan's son who was about to turn a year old. He's such a character, full of faces and sounds that already show his budding personality. Plus I'm super jealous of his little Ninja Turtle costume from last Halloween, so that may be part of it too! The cool thing about kids at that age is you can watch them taking in everything around them with wide eyes and putting it all together in their mind, even though they may not know exactly what to do with it yet.

After a delicious home-cooked dinner courtesy of Meagan's husband, it was time to head back into the city for the big Fourth of July fireworks display. We made our way down to the harbor and found a great spot to sit under a big tree right by the water. The Boston Pops played leading up to the main event, and their concluding piece, the 1812 Overture, featured actual cannon fire. Pretty cool stuff! The fireworks themselves were magnificent, but set to a weird, pre-recorded mix of pop, R&B, and country songs -- none of which really fit the mood. They didn't even shamelessly use Katy Perry's "Firework," but there was ultimately no need for any music at all. The real show was in the sky, and we had a perfect view.

By Sunday morning, my feet and legs were literally sore all over, especially my shins and calves. I've done quite a lot of summertime walking in sandals and flip-flops before, but this trip takes the cake. While we were walking around (correction: Chris was walking, I was hobbling) and looking for nearby restaurants at lunch, we randomly discovered the Bull & Finch Pub, which provided the inspiration for the bar and its exterior shots on the hit '80s sitcom "Cheers." While I was never a huge fan of the show, it was always amusing enough, so we figured why not? The food was above-average for pub fare, but it was a far cry from some of the finer cuisine we had enjoyed elsewhere on the trip.

Our next stops were back in the historic vein that we started on Friday. The Granary Burying Ground holds the graves of several key colonial figures, including Mother Goose, Paul Revere, John Hancock, and Samuel Adams. In a fitting show of solidarity, a previous visitor to the cemetery had left an empty bottle of Sam Adams beer near the tombstone. I think more people stopped to look at the placement of the bottle than the actual grave! When setting out for our next destination, the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum, we put the address into Google to get walking directions. Google Walk (as I jokingly call it) is still in beta, so every few blocks, it kept correcting itself and sending us in entirely different directions. In a city like Boston, you may think, "How hard is it to find the water?" Since it was a specific part of the harbor, we didn't want to get it wrong and we kept blindly following Google, thinking it would get us there eventually. And it did... almost an hour later, long enough for us to miss the last window of time to enter the museum before it closed. You would think that popular sites like these would extend their hours for the busy holiday weekend or heightened summer tourism in general, but alas. Now I call the app Google Fail. In frustration and in protest, I may or may not have pretended to dump my own tea into the harbor.

Every cloud, however, has a silver lining, and if it weren't for Google's spectacular inability to provide simple navigation, we would have never enjoyed dinner where we did. The Barking Crab sits right at the waterfront, and while it may look kind of divey from the outside, the quaint interior belies an authentic seafood restaurant with a solid menu. My grilled (closer to seared) tuna in a lime soy sauce with ginger vegetables and jasmine rice was an excellent choice, and Chris got some gargantuan crab legs that may very well have been caught right outside earlier that day. Seafood tastes a lot better away from a landlocked state like Colorado, and it was the right note on which to start winding down our colossal, multi-state adventure.

I prefer to think the trip ends on that pleasant note, but reality had other plans. During Monday's ridiculously early arrival at the airport (5:30 this time), our good friends at the TSA randomly selected me for additional screening. In the process, they totally unpacked my perfectly packed luggage and gave me a thorough -- and thoroughly mortifying -- pat-down. It took everything I had not to make terrible jokes to the agents about how I wanted to light a cigarette and ask for cab fare after my inspection, but more than anything, I was cranky from not being fully awake and I was just ready to be home. Or in my case, ready to go right from the airport to the office. (Boo...) In the end, that's the true sign of a good trip: when you got to do just about everything you wanted to, but all you can think about is getting back to where you started so you can already plan where to go next.

It's Sometimes Sunny In Philadelphia

Before this trip, I had already mentally prepared myself for the potential heat and humidity of Philadelphia in late June. Thankfully, the temperatures never got above the mid-80s, and the frequent cloud cover and occasional rain kept things cooler than expected. The humidity stuck around, of course, but it never felt as oppressive as the warmer summers I've spent here in the past. I say all of this to demonstrate how kind the weather was to us during our walks to and from various destinations. So... much... walking. Philly is a very walkable city, but just because you can doesn't necessarily mean that you should!

Another such hike on Wednesday morning took me south of Penn's Landing and the waterfront -- much farther than it seemed on the map -- to a slightly more commercial area with stores and strip malls. It was here that I found the oasis that I was seeking: the closest movie theater. With Chris in the last day of his sessions and myself already having visited a lot of what I wanted to see, it was time to treat myself to a little magic. Mike, that is. It was only 10:30 in the morning, but showings were in full swing. Sure, it was just me and seven random middle-aged women, but at least we were smart enough to avoid the swarm later that night.

"Magic Mike XXL" is the kind of movie that needs to be seen in a theater. Not because it's a work of art or a technical achievement, but because it's just that much fun -- especially when people are comfortable interacting with the screen in a group setting. The movie is smart in how it makes the audience invest in the characters and the story (yes, there actually is one!) for the better part of an hour before giving them what they bought tickets to see. While I personally squealed audibly at only one scene (Joe Manganiello + a certain Nine Inch Nails song = WOW), it was doubly entertaining not only to see the dancing on screen but also to hear the cheering when something memorable happened. Definitely the crowd-pleasing pick of the summer!

Back in the real world of the big city, in an attempt to keep trying new places and restaurants, dinner that night was Mexican food. It was a craving I had since our arrival, but Philly isn't exactly famous for it. After extensive online research (no Zagat rating this time), we settled on Lucha Cartel, a small, upscale spot on Chestnut Street that had great reviews in local publications and websites. Chris was even more excited after landing us a 1,000-point reservation through OpenTable! Their ambiance stood out immediately as one of the most unique restaurants where I've ever dined. The color motif was purple and black with gold accents, and their decor was an eclectic, almost surreal combination of luchador (Mexican wrestler) and Day of the Dead. I wanted to take pictures, but it didn't seem right in such a small place with so many other diners -- most of whom were actually blocking the shots with their tables and chairs, so it would have been super awkward anyway. (Excuse me, would you mind moving your entire party of guests and your meals to accommodate this gawking tourist?)

Now on to what really matters at a restaurant: the food! After an appetizer of housemade tortilla chips and their seasoned bean dip, my coconut milk margarita (not as weird as it sounds) was a nice complement to my pollo relleno, a chicken breast stuffed with apple chunks and gruyere cheese and glazed with a zesty white-wine-and-pepper sauce. It definitely had a kick, but there was a nice balance between the flavor and the spice -- not all spicy foods are able to pull that off! The sides of red rice and mixed greens were simple, flavorful touches to offset the heat of the dish.

As good as dinner was, none of their desserts grabbed our interest. We explored the area on foot before once again turning to the wisdom of Zagat to find The Franklin Fountain, an old-fashioned ice cream parlor and soda shoppe with a line out the door -- and for good reason! The scoops are massive, and the homemade waffle cones are enormous enough to house them. In addition to all of the standard flavors, they had a few special offerings, including my instant choice: Teaberry. Named after a brand of gum that was popular on the East Coast way back when and is still made to this day, this ice cream looked and tasted just like the gum -- only the flavor lasted much longer in ice cream form! Full of nostalgic enthusiasm and with eyes bigger than my stomach, I sprung for the large, a 3-scoop waffle cone. Whoops. It was definitely the largest and most expensive ice cream cone I've ever enjoyed (more than $10 and worth every penny), but any photos proving my ability to eat this monstrosity would surely violate some kind of public indecency laws and possibly even break the Internet.

By Thursday, the ISTE conference was over, so Chris had more free time to do some of the tourist attractions that we had been talking about. Heading into Fourth of July weekend, both Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell were overflowing with crowds and lines, so we decided to skip those since we had both already visited them on separate occasions (albeit a long time ago). Apparently, this is the only weekend when people get the urge to visit patriotic sites!

We settled on the Franklin Institute, a nature and science museum that was always a favorite of mine growing up and still holds a certain charm. As an added bonus, Chris's membership to Denver's Museum of Nature & Science was reciprocal, so we only had to pay a small upgrade to access the special exhibitions. The Institute's emphasis on interactivity makes visiting fun for all ages (even two grown adults), and the Genghis Khan exhibit was really fascinating. We also got to see the Giant Heart, manually power light bulbs, and even record a weather forecast in front of a green screen. In short, our inner children went bananas!

When lunch rolled around, I knew we were running out of time for a staple food that is uniquely Philly: the cheesesteak. As we headed back toward the hustle and bustle of downtown, we stopped at Reading Terminal Market, a.k.a. the busiest food court known to man. Every kind of cuisine you can think of is represented, but nothing could distract me from my mission. Of the several cheesesteak options in the Market alone, Spataro's was well-regarded enough for my liking, so I got the classic sandwich with peppers, onions, and cheese whiz.

Normally, I wouldn't go anywhere near something with "whiz" in its name, especially as a connoisseur of cheese, but this is my one exception. The way the whiz blends with the grease from the ribeye adds a delightful (if unhealthy) layer to this most holy of steak sandwiches. Chris made the mistake (mis-steak?) of getting provolone cheese and wasn't nearly as impressed, mainly because the cheese just sat there on his sandwich instead of interacting with the toppings and dancing as happily across his taste buds as they had on mine. To someone like me, who is originally from the East Coast and has a healthy appetite, the cheesesteak is food porn at its finest.

Slowing down a little after filling our bellies and walking all the way back to the hotel, we enjoyed some air-conditioned, feet-elevated, channel-surfing downtime before heading below our new friend South Street to meet some of my family for dinner. My mom's best friend Joanne (also my godmother), her husband John, and my sister MaryBeth -- who Chris and I had recently met up with during our New York trip in March -- joined us at Hawthorne's. A small but elegant answer to the typical bar and grill, this restaurant featured a great menu and a self-serve cooler (brilliant!) for bottled and canned beers in addition to their expansive selections on tap. I was desperate for vegetables after the day's earlier indulgence, so the arugula salad with apricots, mango vinaigrette, and salmon was a welcome change. The meal was a win all around: Chris got to meet Joanne and John, and I enjoyed catching up with them too since our last visit had been over three years ago. And needless to say, it's always great to see my sister whenever I can! After Joanne and John headed home, MaryBeth was kind enough to drive us back to the hotel (less walking!), where we had a nightcap at a small bar around the corner (only brief walking). The service was atrocious, but the drinks were good and the company was even better.

As the night came to a close, an early-morning flight to Boston loomed ahead of us. Some people go on vacations to relax and unwind by doing practically nothing. It's safe to say that we're not those people! I can do nothing when I'm at home, so if I'm going somewhere -- even if I've been there before or I'm from the area -- you can bet I'll be out there seeing and doing as much as possible. There's always plenty of time for adventures both big and small.

A City Of Brotherly Everything

My last visit to the East Coast in March 2012 was a much shorter and more impulsive trip. There was no real agenda or itinerary; I just thought of things to do and I did them. This time, however, there's been a lot of ground to cover -- literally and figuratively -- so there has been a method to the madness.

Leaving New Jersey on Sunday afternoon, we took a winding path that allowed us to avoid toll roads because a.) tolls are for suckers and b.) regular roads help you see more of where you are. Since this was one of the relatively nicer parts of the state, it may have taken longer but at least the view was more scenic! The route suggested by the GPS took us through Trenton, NJ, which borders Morrisville on the Pennsylvania side and is only two towns over from where I grew up in Levittown, PA. A distant suburb of Philadelphia, I'll admit, but it saves a lot of time explaining where you're from if you give people the closest major city. Technically, I grew up geographically closer to Trenton than to Philadelphia, but I would NEVER say I'm from New Jersey! (And to think that I did so well being nice to Jersey in my last post...)

Needless to say, Levittown became our first stop in Pennsylvania. Among the points of interest in the quick drive-through tour were my elementary schools, my old house, and that paragon of retail excellence, the Oxford Valley Mall. Aside from the schools, none of those locations look the same as they did in my childhood, or even like they did as recently as 2012. The times they are a-changin', but it was nice to be able to finally give Chris a visual reference for these places that I often mention when discussing the old neighborhood.

The only place we couldn't find was the recent site of national news coverage, where a girl's 16th birthday party had waste dumped on it by a passing airplane. None of the articles or clips we found online mentioned the specific part of Levittown where this occurred, but my morbid (still unsatisfied) curiosity demanded to know in case I had ever set foot near there. This lack of discovery also scrapped our duck-and-cover-drill photo shoot on their front lawn. Probably for the best...

After heading south again on the highway and returning our rental car to the airport, we took a train back into downtown Philadelphia and checked in Chris for his conference. After taking a few minutes to get our bearings, we walked toward the waterfront and arrived at our hotel on Penn's Landing, which is such a unique and historic part of the city to be in the first place, let alone stay down there. Our neighbor to the north is the Ben Franklin Bridge, which is quite majestic and also surprisingly quiet given our proximity to it.

During dinner at La Peg, a small French bistro adjacent to the hotel, the night sky was illuminated by rescheduled fireworks from the night before (apparently, the rain we experienced in New Jersey spoiled a lot of plans elsewhere too). We couldn't quite see from the angle of our table, but every so often, a stray burst of light or color would match the booming festivities. I did find it odd that nearly an entire restaurant full of people abandoned their food and beverage to go outside and watch a small-scale display that would surely be dwarfed by the upcoming 4th of July spectacle -- especially since the staff was so trusting that they would all return -- but hey, I guess it makes for a good story.

Monday was Chris's first full day at the conference, so I spent the better part of it wandering around and re-orienting myself with the downtown area. Once I got my bearings, I dedicated myself to that most noble of pursuits: the search for the perfect soft pretzel. Unlike the more traditional looped soft pretzels, East Coast pretzels are more compact and rectangular. The dough somehow seems softer and they are always salted the right amount. Accept no substitutes!

After his sessions ended, Chris and I had dinner at Ocean Harbor, a Zagat-rated Asian restaurant in Chinatown. I tried the crispy lemon chicken, and Chris had the pepper steak. The accolade was no accident; that was some legit Chinese food! For dessert, we decided to walk down through parts of the "gayborhood" and pay a visit to Big Gay Ice Cream, another Zagat-rated establishment with unique flavors and sundaes. Chris had vanilla and dulce de leche ice cream topped with crushed Nilla wafers, and my ice cream was vanilla blended with dark chocolate pretzels and dipped in chocolate. I had no idea that Zagat covered dessert items along with other types of food, but their recommendations have yet to steer us wrong!

We walked back toward Penn's Landing and our hotel via South Street, which is basically Philadelphia's answer to Denver's Colfax Avenue. While South doesn't hold the distinction of being the longest continuous street in the country like Colfax does, it has the same mixture of boutique shops, vacant buildings, and restaurants both upscale and dive -- not to mention some of the best people-watching this side of the Mississippi.

On Tuesday morning, I got good news and bad news courtesy of Paddy's Pub from "It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia" fame. The good news is that the bar is in fact inspired by a real place; the bad news is that the bar featured on the show is not the same place as the pub in question. Despite the opening credits and many of the exterior shots indeed being filmed on location, the same can't be said for Paddy's itself. I was looking forward to taking a ridiculous selfie or two in front of such an infamous (though fictional) site, but alas, that dream will have to wait until my next trip to southern California. 2016, perhaps?

That afternoon, I went to the Pennsylvania Convention Center (where Chris was attending his conference for the International Society for Technology in Education, or ISTE) to visit their massive expo hall. Any picture I tried to take wouldn't have captured the sheer size of the exhibit floor, with over 30 aisles of booths and tabletops that represented nearly 500 companies and organizations. State-of-the-art display screens and fun concepts (like a booth shaped and themed as a 1950s diner) provided something to look at and think about in every direction. While education and technology are not specifically my fields, I enjoyed seeing the many kinds of products and services that are leading the way and changing these vital industries for the better.

Dinner on Tuesday was less about Zagat prestige and more about convenient location. Equipped with some generally positive online reviews from everyday people, we found ourselves at the nearby Old City Pizza. For individual pieces, their Mega Slices of pizza are not just a catchy name; they are literally the largest pieces I've ever seen (and I've eaten a lot of pizza in my day). Meanwhile, my personal-size pie was a Greek pizza -- the combination of my cravings at the moment -- topped with gyro meat, feta cheese, green peppers, grilled onions, and diced tomatoes. Zagat or not, good pizza is good pizza, and Philly is a primo destination for inventive twists on popular menu items.

As we collapsed into bed, Tuesday ended like every night on this trip has so far: exhausted from walking our way through the city, full from the gourmet meals, and content in the knowledge that several days of fun are still ahead.

If Virginia Is For Lovers, What Is New Jersey For?

All jokes aside, there is something truly unique about New Jersey. Parts of it are really industrial (and they smell like it too). Other parts are so pleasantly nondescript that a general photo could trick viewers into thinking that it was taken somewhere else. Perhaps most importantly, there are parts that are so historic and breathtaking that even the passage of time can't diminish their natural beauty. Guess which parts we visited?

We did have to cut through a little bit of options one and two here and there, but finally reaching option three was more than worth it. After arriving in Philadelphia late Friday night, our first stop on Saturday was Cape May, the southern-most point in New Jersey and a seaside town full of old Victorian houses and turn-of-the-century whimsy. My grandparents (on my mom's side) lived here when I was younger, and it was almost surreal how identical everything looked to my youthful memories.

That uncanny sense of direction helped me guide us toward memorable areas. Because I was able to find the library, I knew that my grandparents' old apartment building had to be nearby, and their building led me to the small commercial district that started across the street. If my internal compass had kicked in sooner, maybe we wouldn't have worn out Chris's phone by using the navigation app so often!

I was rather disappointed to see that some of the local businesses had given way to corporate influences like Dairy Queen and Ben & Jerry's. Other than that, most of what I was able to remember was there: the arcades, the mini-golf courses, the ancient boardwalk motels. My preferred stop for salt water taffy, Fralinger's, is still standing. (And still delicious!)

I was more relieved to discover that my favorite childhood store is still around too. Whale's Tale is a beach-themed gift and novelty shop with a great selection of children's books and educational toys and games. Yep, I was that big of a nerd, and I still am! I insisted on going in to see how it had changed over the years. Aside from the obvious ins and outs of inventory, I took great comfort in the fact that the store looked, felt, and even smelled the same.

The mix of salty ocean air and fragrant home decor sent me and my nose flying down memory lane. I couldn't quite figure out exactly how long it had been since I last visited this part of the Jersey shore, but it must have been at least 20 years ago. (If any family members can help me establish a more definitive timeline, I'd greatly appreciate it!) Either way, it was wonderful to relive the past while also sharing the present with Chris. 

We had just started to head back to the rental car when a huge rainstorm hit. There was no thunder or lightning, but enough strong wind and heavy rain to send everyone scrambling for cover... or an umbrella (ella, ella) large enough to handle the elements. Our small but mighty umbrella was no match for the wind, so we stayed dry with a few other brave tourists under the awning of a shoe store for about 30 minutes. 

Once the storm weakened to a light drizzle, we resumed our trek to the car -- but not before a quick stop for water ice. (Shout-out and shameless plug for Rita's!) Those of you who have tasted this magical nectar for yourselves need no further background, but for those of you who do, Wikipedia explains it best. Water ice is more hydrating and refreshing than a snow cone or a Slurpee, so Colorado could certainly use a few shops of its own. A stand in LoDo or on Pearl Street would be a hit, especially considering how hot our recent summers have been.

Less than two hours later, we arrived in Atlantic City, which is farther north along the coast. While it hasn't retained the majestic glory of its storied past, plenty of reminders still exist of just how influential the city used to be as a destination. (Think of it as a smaller, oceanfront Las Vegas Strip.) Between disasters both natural and financial, AC has managed to thrive at a lesser scale, but it's still a fascinating seasonal locale.

After checking in at the legendary Claridge Hotel, we were disheartened to see that the rain had returned in fuller force than earlier that afternoon. We clearly picked the wrong day to visit the shore, but torrential rain doesn't get in the way of hungry travelers! We ran under the cover of three different buildings to reach Caesars Palace and still managed to get drenched. Undeterred, we made our way up to their Palace Court Buffet to celebrate Chris's birthday by eating our way through an impressive spread of various cuisines. While we were surprised that wine wasn't included with our dinner (since it had been at the Monte Carlo's buffet on our last trip to Vegas), we definitely got our money's worth trying a little bit of everything else.

On Sunday, we hit the boardwalk to take in the sights and sounds of the beach. (Side note: Atlantic City was the inspiration for the classic board game Monopoly, and The Claridge sits at the corner of Boardwalk and Park Place. By staying there, do I automatically win every time I play Monopoly from now on?) It was already quite warm for only 10 in the morning, but the ocean breeze kept us from melting. We felt even worse for the stragglers of some kind of race or marathon that had taken place earlier in the day. Dealing with the heat on top of running through a growing crowd takes a dedicated athlete.

Elsewhere on the boardwalk, we managed to avoid any run-ins with rejected applicants for "Jersey Shore," and Chris mastered how to tell the difference between bro-dudes and dude-bros. It's an important distinction, and I'm considering offering a seminar -- you know, from a social anthropology perspective! Some of my working titles are "Know Your Bros," "Bromance For Beginners," and "Douchebags 101."

By Sunday afternoon, we're already done with the Jersey leg of our adventure, but the trip is far from over. The bulk of our journey awaits us in and around downtown Philadelphia. Pennsylvania and New Jersey are mere miles apart -- down to just feet in some places -- but it feels like a whole other world away when considering the one-of-a-kind charms of the Garden State. (See? I can be nice to Jersey when I want to be!)

P.S. I do have one closing sentiment about someone who has been an East Coast fixture for a long time. He's always been controversial, but now he's past the point of no return and I was able to tell him so. Actually, I told one of his buildings. With a certain finger. I decided that this was probably a more polite thing to publish:

Chris & Rob's East-ellent Adventure

Bill and Ted's adventures took them through time in a phone booth and later to Hell and back. Our adventures over the next week or so will take us through time zones and state lines in a variety of transportation modes... and still to Hell and back in the form of New Jersey (wink).

That's right, boys and girls! It's time for an epic summer vacation the likes of which have rarely been seen outside of a National Lampoon movie. Check out the maps below, which outline the itinerary for our massive trip and should give you an idea of when and where to hide from us. Kidding! Mostly...

Saturday, 6/27: New Jersey

Sunday, 6/28 to Thursday, 7/2: Pennsylvania

Friday, 7/3 to Sunday, 7/5: Massachusetts

I'll be posting updates from each state as this magical journey unfolds, so get ready for swashbuckling action and daring feats of... oh, who am I kidding? There will be historic sites, cultural points of interest, tourist attractions, visits to some of my old haunts (yours truly was born and raised back east)... and FOOD. Lots and lots of delicious, so-good-but-it's-bad-for-you East Coast eats.

Prepare yourselves for the vicarious experience of the year! At least until I go to the Seattle area in late July. And then New Orleans at the end of October. So, more accurately, prepare yourselves for the vicarious experience of the month. Either way, I hope you have as much fun by reading as we are by doing. Onward!