block island honeymoon

Erin did the final ad for the Block Island Times wedding edition. Here's hoping I get some off season weekend bookings.
And the chimney finished first.

lapse

Sorry, what with my nieces visiting and mouse shit all over the new house, my attention has been otherwhere. I'll resume presently, like maybe on Wednesday.
Meanwhile here's a picture of the top of the Pope's canopy at Yankee Stadium, shot from Elaine's balcony.

boiled chicken

And speaking of boiled peanuts, I rashly insisted that no boiled peanuts were to be found south of Tampa, Fla., and promised to dance the chicken dance if I was wrong. Well, halfway down the Keys, I had to pony up. I should have inserted and adjective: No DECENT boiled peanuts. I had to throw the bastards out.

what's in the truck now?

Alas, it's time for a new What's in the Truck and I haven't even scored the LAST What's in the truck. I promise I will score both very soon.
This time, it's up to Block Island from New York.
Hint: No bananas. Well, no bananas yet. Maybe there will be some by the time I get to BI on Wednesday.

watchee weeki wachee

own beds

Just a note to say that after a month on the road, we are all returned to our homes. It was a long day today, starting out at the weirdest Ramada Inn ever in Virginia (about which more later!), then to Providence, and then me back to NYC about an hour ago.

the long way home

One last meal at the Hogfish. . .

passing up Palm Beach for a campsite north of Jupiter. . .

we put pennies on the railroad tracks to flatten overnight

and then, thank heavens, we found it. . .

tipping south

We headed down the seven-mile bridge, thinking of Carl Hiassen and the reason swimming pools are painted the color they are.

We were welcomed by our host GG in the classic manner—poolside and beer friendly with dead animal flesh on the barbie.

Upon consulting various maps and options, we set forth to discover a tourist town that has been discovered many years ago.

And we took in the southernmost spot in the U.S.A. Cuba: 90 miles.

soft landing

Thanks to Gene "Master of the Universe" G, we stayed at these delightful condos in Old Town Key West, just steps from Duval. Both are available for purchase, should you be interested. Pix by Chris Garrison, set styling by Hannah and Claudia

another roadside attraction

panacea

Some days start out worse than others, with photographs to download, tents to dry out, the car to reload (yes, I'm getting to "what's in the truck" though the lading list varies daily) and a late start. There is always hope, however. And just a few miles down the road, we caught a bit of the hopes of yesteryear.

Apparently the town was named after mineral springs that promised succor.

They had fallen into disuse, but we dipped a toe into the tepid pools.

Soon thereafter, we found the lone boiled peanut man beside the road . . .

. . .Chris finally found the tree of his dreams. . .

. . .and we could tell by the signs in the sky that we were meant to stay at a fab motel directly across From Weeki Wachee Springs! About which more later, including mermaids. . .

it's warm here

We frolicked on the Redneck Riviera's Emerald Coast. And yes, the water is really this color. And clear.

We finished off the day at Boss's oyster joint in Apalachacola, where we ate, well. . .

family reunion

further adventures

I promise to add up the points for What's in the Truck and reveal all, including a winner—soon. But we've been too busy socializing. For now, we can say that fireworks were both added to and subtracted from that list.

"See Rock City," the signs have read for miles around for as long as I can remember. And so we did, finally, See Rock City, with its vaunted view of seven states, its concrete, black lit fairytale caverns and its Lover's Leap into downtown Chattanooga (sp?.

on the road

what's in the truck?

OK, everybody say
"ROAD TRIP!"
It's that time of year again, when spring calls with an urgency that can no longer be denied, and we all pile in the truck to go—who knows where? Missouri, certainly. Louisiana, maybe. Key West, Florida?
Guess what's in the truck—really, a less-piggy rented SUV.

I'll get you started:
3 people
2 road atlases
1 camp stove
6 pounds Zabar's "quiet coffee," ie, already ground dark expresso.
1 bottle Xanex

The traditional point system applies:
5 points for each correct answer
10 points for each answer that should be correct

So what do you think is in the truck?

wild blue yonkers

Scour the streets and yard sales for old plates and dishes. Cut up, and make mosaics on—toilet seats?

muddy missouri

No, this is not the river—this is the road outside the house of our correspondent in Peace Valley, Mo. "The house sprang a few leaks and the country roads on all sides of us were impassable, but we were spared the worst of the rain," she says. From nearby West Plains, Mo., Bill says, "My toes are webbed and I am growing feathers!"
Today is the full moon:flood tide.

i don't care what they say

Yes, I know that bananas supposedly stay good in the refrigerator despite the fact that the peels turn color. But would you eat something that looked like this?
It's Ace's birthday and the first day of spring.
Everybody say: "Road trip!"
I suppose I could save the bananas to take on the road—after all, bananas in the car tend to be aromatherapy rather than food.

alas, philip

Magnum photographer Philip Jones Griffiths, father of Katherine and Fanny (with him above, at Magnum's anniversary celebration last year), former lover of Donna Ferrato and mentor of Chien-Chi Chang, among many others, has died after a long war with cancer. I think it was colon cancer that he started out with when I first visited him in hospital in New York a long time ago. Then it was liver and finally lung. He managed to complete books, lectures, and pictures as well as travel all over the world between treatments. Here is one of the last interviews he gave in London, cracking jokes at the brink of the grave. He liked his jokes, did Philip, as well as beautiful women and his own opinions. He was passionate about photography and photographers and the ravages of war. He lived large and died fighting. Peace, now.