whizdumb

Name that airport #1

I took this photo this morning in an airport.  It struck me as a slight departure from the uniformity and monotony of the terminal scenery. 

So I thought I'd post a picture every now and then from an airport and see if you frequent fliers out there can name it. 

Leave a comment with your guess.

Hint: It's not Atlanta.

I'll add the answer to this post in a few days. 

Walking the High Line

Awhile ago I read an article called Walking the High Line, in a Japanese travel magazine called Paper Sky.  Paper Sky is a wonderful magazine written in Japanese and English, published from Tokyo by a California transplant.  (It's really  hard to find and their site and their blog require translating to English).

Anyway, the article was the first time I'd heard of the High Line, and I hadn't heard much else, or seen it first hand.

The High Line is a vestigial elevated rail line that snakes through Manhattan for 1.45 miles.  No trains have run on it since 1980 and it's been overtaken by weeds, animals and, more recently, humans in search of a way to save it and turn it into a public space.  What an amazing artifact, right in the middle of the city.   More on the High Line, including a video from Friends of the High Line here.

Recently I was excited to hear about the High Line Festival, featuring artists and acts curated by David Bowie.   What a fantastic idea. From their site:

The H&M High Line Festival is a new multi-discipline arts festival that will be curated each year by a different artist. The inaugural edition, curated by David Bowie, will run May 9 to 19, 2007.

The ten-day mash-up of music, film, comedy, visual art and performance will highlight all of David's favorite artists. The best of the best.

The festival will take place in venues near the High Line, an elevated rail structure soon to open as a public open space which runs through the Meatpacking District, West Chelsea and Clinton/Hells Kitchen. A portion of ticket sales will go to benefit Friends of the High Line, the 501(c)3 organization currently working with the City of New York to transform the 1930's rail structure into a park, set to open in 2008.

Travel Ridiculousness Advisory: HIGH

Apparently someone did not fully get the message that no liquids, creams and the like are allowed in carryon luggage.  So they decided to check a small toiletries bag - by itself!  At least that's what I figured happened as I saw this tiny lone bag roll onto the carousel in the Denver airport last night. 

Polly's Pies RIP

Had many fine breakfasts at Polly's Pies coffee shop at 5th and Wilshire in Santa Monica. Now she's gone, replaced by a Panera Bread who found it fit to put their name in the old spinning Polly's sign.

Viva Famima!!

A successful Japanese chain of convenience stores has just opened four stores in the US, all of them in West L.A. I visited the one on Third Street Promenade in Santa Monica. It’s quite a cool concept. The store is the size of a small 7-Eleven but with a much more mellow feel. There is not a lot of aggressive display activity and there is an amazing range of products, all high end. These range from paper towels (actual there was only one brand of paper towels, Seventh Generation) to Japanese candles and pottery, to sandwiches, soups and stationery. One of my favorites was a small tin of "Little i" mints with a cosmetic mirror built in.

There were a lot of green products such as Tom’s of Maine toothpaste, and I was struck by the beverage selections – no cans except for Red Bull, and tons of exotic teas, Jones and Izzie sodas, lots of juices, etc. There was a small row of Coke and Pepsi products in the bottom row of the cooler but they actually looked really out of place. About a quarter to a third of all the products were Japanese. Instead of hot dogs and taquitos in the hot cases, they served sticky buns and fried bread.

Their website is surprisingly transparent about their marketing strategy. They talk about how their targeting of young upscale women, including Japanese people living in America. They compare how a traditional convenience store layout is controlled by the manufacturer, but in their concept, the layout is determined by shopping ease, and “an alternative for the intelligent, concerned, or curious … with the primary objective of improving the well being of the customer.” That's some pretty fancy talk compared to what you'd expect from folks running the 'sev on the corner. Quick-E-Marts of America, beware.

Martial Arts Cleaners

Spotted these two businesses side by side in a mini-mall in Plano, TX. I'd love to see how they remove stains.

A different tune in Oaxaca

A couple years ago we went to Mexico. The highlight was Oaxaca for me. When we returned I wrote this short essay about it.

After a few days in Mexico City the slow pace, clear skies and warm colors of Oaxaca are a welcome change.  A midafternoon stroll among the colorful colonial facades near the Alcalá pedestrian mall reveals this.  Indigenous people sell their bright handicrafts along the sidewalk and nearby small stands prepare tlalludas – large tortillas topped with Oaxacan cheese and fresh vegetables.  But beyond the facades and street life lie a variety of gems waiting to be discovered.  Several restaurants, hotels, cafes and museums open up past the public doorway to reveal cozy courtyards rich with fountains, flowers, local artwork and, on most days a crisp, radiant light. 

We stumbled on one of these spaces one evening as we searched for something sweet to cap our dinner.  Inside the Hosteria de Alcalá restaurant the courtyard was aglow.  Candles ringed a stone fountain and on the far side an upright piano lay dimly under the balcony.  A man hunched over the keys and lovingly played a traditional serenade in waltz-time (called Zandunga, I later learned).  The notes melded with the trickling of the fountain and resonated among the courtyard walls, and the tune took on a dreamlike quality.

The next morning we stopped by the Mercado de Artesanías to check out more handicrafts.  A small stall attended by an older woman and stacked high with woven rugs caught our eye.  Between our broken Spanish and the use of a map, we learned that many of the rugs came from a nearby weaving village.  The geometric designs reminded us of Aztec and Zapotec reliefs and paintings we’d seen in museums earlier that week.  We bought a couple rugs and decided to plan a day trip to the weaving village.

The next day we arrived, along with 10 other tourists, at the home of an indigenous weaving family in a village called Teotitlán del Valle.  With the help of our guide, a tough little woman explained that all their rugs are completely natural.  She effortlessly demonstrated how rough bunches of wool is spun into yarn, and when she gave someone in our group the opportunity to try to spin, the yarn quickly fell to pieces.  She said that all their dyes are created naturally and we were given a vivid demonstration of one such method which involved grinding up cactus-borne cochineal insects to create a brilliant crimson dye. 

We also stopped by a little village called El Tule which is unremarkable except for the fact that it contains the largest living thing on Earth – a type of cypress tree which is a few thousand years old.  As we neared the house-sized trunk the quiet of the small-town gave way to the chirps and calls of thousands of birds who had made the tree their home. 

Late in the afternoon we visited the ancient Zapotec capital Monte Albán, which is situated on a flat mountain top above Oaxaca.  Three valleys radiate from this site and the views atop one of the ancient city’s pyramids ware stunning.  Near the large central plaza there was an ancient ball court complete with stone bleachers built to accommodate hundreds of the city’s estimated 25,000 residents.  The long, peaceful shadows made it difficult to imagine that the brutal contests played here almost always ended in a score of 1-0 as each game was, literally, a sudden death match. 

Back in central Oaxaca the following morning we reflected on our trip over another splendid breakfast.  As the waitress walked over to a nearby yerbasanta tree and picked a savory leaf to use in our egg dish, the gentle tune from a few nights before still cycled in my mind.  We discussed staying a few days longer.