If you're any kind of tennis fan, or real any sports fan at all, do not miss any of Andre Agassi's final matches at the U.S. Open. His first round defeat of Andre Pavel was tremendous, as much for the caliber of tennis as for the electricity of the crowd. It only figures to build as the tournament progresses.
Usually there's not much to do, culturally speaking, in Harrisburg. Tonight, however, A Silver Mt. Zion came to town. I'd missed them in DC, but enjoyed them tonight.
They played in front of about 200 indie hipsters (redundant?) in the basement of the Whitaker Center. Classified as post-rock, a definition I've never really understood, I'd put them more in the new classical genre, one I've just made up. A seven member ensemble, A Silver Mt. Zion plays largely ornamental pieces punctuated by braying, often repetitive vocals. The violins and cello build to a crescendo. Combining the strings with feedback and other sonic goodies, their music, even more so live, is as aural assault as typically defined songs.
Good stuff, though lacking from the absence of the piano often heard on their studio albums.
Over the weekend I moved into a Homewood Suites, so I can do some cooking. I'm limited to two burners, no oven, poor cookware and a lack of utensils, but I can still make a few things. I went to the grocery and picked up some groceries to start.
My refrigerator looks pretty sad, bacheloresque, though if the cans were cheap light beer rather than cheap soda it'd be even more depressing. Such is the life of a traveling disaster salesman.
While I was briefly a supporter of Gov. Dean for the Democratic nomination, I ended up voting for John Edwards. But I've always though Dean to be a compelling voice for the party, and believed he was the right man for the DNC chair. In that job, he demonstrated his efficacy on Chris Matthews tonight.
As a child, my parents once took me to Sesame Place. A Sesame Street-themed amusement park, I don't remember much about it, though I did enjoy climbing around the (what seemed at the time to be) giant cargo nets. Sunday evening, I was surpised to find my hotel, the Sheraton Bucks County across the street from Sesame Place. Indeed, my room overlooked the park.
I certainly viewed the park through the rose-colored glasses of a child. I briefly considered visiting the park again, after all, there were water slides (rubber duckie-themed, no less). But rather than ruin my fond childhood memories a misguided trip where I would see the place for what it is: a commercial exploitation of a beloved public television show where teenagers dress up in yellow suits to imitate childhood heroes, I stayed in my hotel room and ate a crapBoston Market pot pie.
Dining options in Harrisburg are limited. There's a decent Thai place, and numerous good sub/sandwich shops, but that's about it, at least that I've found. So my trip to Philadelphia also presented an opportunity to splurge on a good meal. When I heard about Morimoto, run by Iron Chef Morimoto, I figured I'd continue my obsession with Food Network-related restaurants and check it out. Besides, I've been craving some killer sushi.
Having read some positive reviews, I opted for the nine-course Omakase. Here's what I had:
All told, a good meal with great courses. Worth $165? Hard to say. I was hoping for more unique dishes, more playing with food and flavors. Ultimately I'd probably eat twice at Kaz Sushi Bistro for what I paid to eat once at Morimoto.
Having completed my first two assignments in my journey around Pennsylvania, I headed into Philadelphia to catch the Nationals play the Phillies at Citizens Bank Park (CBP). Even if my ballpark road trip proves impossible to arrange, I'm still crossing ballparks off my list.
The Nationals jumped out to an early 3-0 lead on a leadoff home run by Alfonso Soriano and a two-run homer by Ryan Zimmerman. My standing ovations as they circled the bases were not appreciated by the surrounding Phillies fans, but the fans weren't drunk enough to be a problem. The Nats added two more in the second, freeing me up to wander around the ballpark.
CBP opened in 2004, and is similar to other parks built in the last ten years. Brick facades and wide concourses offer a stark contrast to the dinginess of RFK. Unlike PNC Park in Pittsburgh, CBP doesn't have a distiguishing skyline, and is generally unremarkable. It certainly offers a pleasant enough baseball experience, but is in no way a classic stadium.
Wandering around the stadium, I took an opportunity to sit in the bleachers with "Howard's Homies," the cheering section for Philly slugger Ryan Howard. They weren't too impressed with my Nationals cap, but other than a bit of good-natured heckling, were controlled enough. With the Nats up 6-3 in the seventh, I headed out for dinner. Even without me, the Nats held on to win, 6-4.
Normally in the office writing fascinating press releases like Floodsmart.gov Web site a valuable resource, I've been dispatched into the Pennsylvania wilderness. My mission: learn about community efforts to reduce flood losses and produce a series of stories on these practices. Beats sitting in the office.
Hopping in my trusty rental car I shall journey around central and eastern Pennsylvania. Heading all over the state, I'll stop in Philadelphia on Friday and then head to Norwalk, CT to visit Mr. and Mrs. Trachtenberg. Sunday, it’s back to PA to prepare for more community studies Monday, after which I'll return to Harrisburg. All these travels make for good blog fodder. Forthcoming...
A few quick notes (blogging in bullet points is much easier):
A federal judge has ruled the President's illegal wiretapping unconstitutional. So what's on CNN.com?
BREAKING NEWS
DA: Ramsey suspect started teaching job this week
Pathetic.
Now in my third week in Harrisburg, I’m again itching to travel. Beyond Pittsburgh.
I have enough frequent flyer miles to go anywhere in the world, and about three weeks of free hotel nights (anywhere with Hilton). So to my vast readership, I pose two questions:
I’m probably looking to travel either immediately before Christmas or after the New Year. Seriously, let’s go somewhere.
As I did the weekend previous, I drove to Pittsburgh over the weekend to visit Mike and Neva, take in a baseball game, and to get out of Harrisburg. I've expressed my taste for Pittsburgh previously. The above photos (as well as these) illustrate my fondness.
Much of my affinity for the city stems from Mike's fantastic house. Resting on the north shore of the city, his front porch overlooks downtown and its a small but architecturally diverse skyline. In the evening, the buildings illuminate, but despite their glow, we had a pretty good view of the Perseid meteor shower on Friday night.
In the side yard, deer occasionally frolic about. Rare is a spot where city and country converge so gloriously. It is, despite my preconceptions of Pittsburgh, just the spot for a weekend of relaxation.
I'm thinking about driving around the country next summer, visiting the 23 Major League Baseball stadiums I have yet to see. I think it can be done in about 40 days, though I'm still working on the optimal route between the 20 cities, and can't really plan in earnest until the 2007 schedule comes out.
It's an entertaining math problem, one I would be better equipped to solve if I hadn't dropped combinatorial math.
A few quick thoughts on my time in Pennsylvania until I get around to posting some photos (which is likely to be extended another week):
In April, I wrote:
One of the least-talked about consequence of Hurricane Katrina is the psychological damage many New Orleanians suffered....For many victims with whom I've spoken, they relive the event when they retell the story."
The unaddressed psychological scars left by Katrina may be the most pervasive lingering effect. People are rebuilding, or moving on, but will be left with their memories of the horrific days during and immediately following the storm. A recently published article in The Journal of the American Medical Association confirms my anecdotes. Though JAMA is subscription only, Time.com has a nice article summarizing the article, and discussing the broader problem of mental health treatment for Katrina survivors:
A February survey of people living in temporary FEMA-subsidized housing found that more than two-thirds of female caregivers reported feelings of anxiety, depression and other mental health disorders. As many as half of the children they were caring for were suffering from mental disorders of their own.
The health care infrastructure in New Orleans, fragile before Katrina, has completely collapsed. Mental health care is an even lower priority for a city just struggling to maintain order.
But there are only a total of 20 psychiatric beds available in the few New Orleans hospitals that have reopened, compared to about 300 before the storm.
And the cascading effect of mental health problems on physical health is also manifesting itself:
More troubling, perhaps, is a 25% jump in the mortality rate, including a threefold increase in the suicide rate — a conservative estimate since many self-inflicted deaths are classified as accidental.
The Senate once had a champion for mental health issues. Is anyone paying attention today?
Harrisburg, like many Pennsylvania cities (indeed, like many mid-sized cities throughout the rust belt), is struggling to adapt to the changing economy. Downtown Harrisburg is an area in transition, with newly renovated restaurants and galleries neighbored by liquor stores and sub shops.
Fewer than ten blocks away from downtown, well-maintained brick row houses give way to dilapidated homes with broken steps and plywood windows. Corner businesses employ bulletproof glass to facilitate customer transactions.
Unlike many cities with which I am familiar, there are no physical boundaries separating the good neighborhood from the bad. In Washington, the Anacostia river has been keeping poor people out of sight for decades (centuries?). But here, driving down Market Street, the area transforms without warning.
I've been told I won't be here long, perhaps going home as soon as next weekend. Just long enough to miss A Silver Mt. Zion at the Black Cat, but not long enough to catch them here. Terrific.
chabel.net sleeps all day
