Tag: burlington

Curvy road trippin’

On last week’s drive to Vermont, Google insisted we drive through the Adirondack Mountains.  Who am I to argue with Google?  Pretty stuff, but it rendered us a bit car-sick with all the twists and turns.  Along the way, baby Katt learned a new word – FLOWERS, which she now says at every opportunity.

In Burlington, we went to K-art.  We didn’t buy much of anything artistic, just diapers and dish washing detergent.

I was too cheap to rent bikes in Burlington, so the kids spent many hours rollerblading along Lake Champlain.  I attempted to keep up while pushing Katt in the stroller.  It was the first time in my life I’ve ever jogged.  Let me tell you, jogging blows!

Along the path I saw raspberry-like fruit growing out of control.  I wasn’t sure if they were poisonous or safe, so I only ate a few.  They were strangely fuzzy, sort of like eating sweet tart cotton balls.  I lived, so next time I’ll gorge myself!

Zach obtained a busking permit and played some Tango, Klezmer, Irish fiddle, and Old-time fiddle on the streets of Burlington.  He made almost 20 bucks for his 30-40 minutes of effort.

Dude, everyone is soooo done with New York.

Last month I accepted my last rental dollar from Shut-In.  To celebrate/mourn the loss of Pittsburgh’s friendliest agoraphobe, we dined at Pho Minh.  Awaiting S.I.’s arrival, I surveyed the neighborhood’s general state of decay.  Plastered with hipster art/music advertising, the adjacent edifice appeared fit for neither habitation nor commerce.  Pondering this catalogical dilemma, I spied a hot babe unlocking the building.  “Would you like a sneak peek?”, she asked, “The gallery crawl is tonight.”  “Uh, ok”, I nodded with bovine acceptance.  After a minute of inspecting my inspection, it occurred to her that a loitering middle aged white man = perv, and that it might be wise to move me along.  Safely outside the building, H.B. resumed her sales pitch.  “20-30 storefront galleries participate in the crawl.  Some even have live music.”  Just then Shut-In arrived, leaving me to file the episode under “hmmmmm”.

Several weeks later I found myself in Burlington, Vermont, on the 2nd floor of a hipster boutique trying on $40 t-shirts.  The gentleman behind the counter lit up when he heard I was from Pittsburgh.  “Shit man”, he raved, “half my friends are moving to Pittsburgh.  The art scene there is exploding.  Pittsburgh and Miami are hot RIGHT NOW.  Dude, everyone is soooo done with New York.”  “Uh, huh”, I nodded.

So there’s that.  More hmmmm I suppose.  For what it’s worth, here in Paris (yeah I said here in Paris), no one seems to be talking about Peetsboorg.