On the Third Anniversary of the Very First Martin’s Day, a tale to mark the occasion.
Once upon a time, there lived a young princess named Andrea. This young princess – Princess Andrea, as she insisted her closest friends call her – very graciously offered to drive her two companions all the way from the Island of Manhattan to a magical land, far, far away, named Colorado – though neglecting to tell the aforementioned companions exactly how very far, far away Colorado was. To be sure, Colorado is very, very far, far away, if not very, very, very far, far away, with vast expanses of land – namely, Oklahoma, which is not, as Princess Andrea claimed while driving her late model Mercedes SUV, its engine light flickering for the past several thousand miles, “a straight shot” – with many hazards blocking their path, including bear tornadoes, the Super Size Me-like experiment the princess ran on her two friends, and the really sketchy Pizza Hut in Pennsylvania where the diet Cokes were, for lack of a better word, “greasy.” But I digress. To continue: Continue reading
From the Lincoln Tunnel to the Mountains of Colorado, a gallery, featuring:
- Vast expanses of open road,
- Bear-Tornadoes: the worst tornadoes of them all,
- Lots of moo-cows,
- Entire fields filled with sunflowers,
- The back of the “Welcome to Oklahoma!” sign, and,
- Most of Oklahoma herself.
Venture forward to see these images… Continue reading
Two girls, one boy, and a Mercedes SUV with its engine light on. As we rapidly approach the anniversary of a jaunt across this great nation of ours, I thought I’d share the e-mail I sent out three summers ago marking our arrival in the fair state of Colorado.
During my more formative years, I spent a lot of time in British schools, meaning that while you guys were learning about the geography of this fine nation of ours, memorizing the fifty states and whatnot, I was learning about the Regency Crisis of 1788, and the governments of William Gladstone and Benjamin Disraeli. This led to a lot of peculiar thinking about the layout of the US of A….
For instance, I had no idea that Maryland bordered Pennsylvania. When I learned about the Civil War, my most common thought was, “No wonder the Confederacy lost the war! They had to march from Maryland THOUSANDS of miles north to Pennsylvania,” which, at the time, I believed to be somewhere in mid-Canada.
So, up until Sunday, anything that didn’t have to do with America as 13 British Colonies didn’t really have to do with me. I referred to everything north of 168th Street as “Connecticut” and everything west of the Hudson as “Ohiowaoklahoma.” And when Andrea suggested that we visit her house in Aspen, which I believed to be somewhere on the other end of the Holland Tunnel but somewhere before Los Angeles (which, as we all know, is only 6 hours away), I thought it’d be a swell idea to hop into her Mercedes SUV and drive all the way. Continue reading
Dear Great Book Half Readers,
We apologize for the shortage of posts, though not without a brief albeit somewhat unsatisfactory explanation. For the past several weeks, we’ve been in the process of packing up the Fictionarium on Union Square West, in anticipation of an extended stay down in sunny South Florida, and, alas, the usually tranquil months of July and August have brought with them boxes, boxes, and more boxes. And so, we exercise our right to engage in the cheapest blogging trick of all, namely, to recycle content that has already been written. Some funny &. good stuff, but recycled stuff nonetheless. While packing, we did notice – quite serendipitously – that this week appears to be the third anniversary of a road trip I took across a large part of this nation. Thus, the second full week in August officially becomes GBHR’s Road Trip to Aspen Anniversary Week. So, click, comment, and enjoy as we pack, re-pack, and unpack our way through these next few days. As always, we remain humbly,