Pigtown Races

Fall is festival season and one of the cuter small neighborhhood ones is held by the Washington Village Community Association aka Pigtown. It got its name because the trains would offload livestock and run them through the streets to the butcher shops in the area.

So to celebrate the refound heritage of the area, the annual street festival holds pig races. Five times a day they have four heats of races. Two with pigs and two with 'ugly pigs' which closely resembled ducks.



And the losers of the races went straight to the barbecue vendors. Which were delicious. And between races they had a live entertainment stage. The band we saw was The Dutch Cousins who played an energetic country folk mix of originals and covers.



The Pigtown area is now a slowly gentrifying area with luxury townhomes where a housing project used to be, but there is plenty of Charm City character left as well. I love seeing those uniquely Baltimoron formstone faces.



But the slickest house was this rowhome with a trompe l'oeil mural on the side which perfectly matched the preternaturally blue sky.



The perfect day. Good music, fine food, and fast pigs.

Team Dean

or Gun Jumping Top Chef



The upcoming season of Top Chef has been filming in DC and the publicity blitz for the June 16 premiere is about to start. The list of cheftestants has been released and one of them is Baltimore restaurateur Timothy Dean.

I first went to his place in Baltimore several years ago for Mothers Day when it was known as Timothy Dean Bistro. Then it featured gourmet southern and soul food. Later it was an ill-fated night club and now it has re-opened as Prime with the specialty being steaks and chops. But there is still a lot of soul in the kitchen. The catfish was lightly breaded and served on top of an enormous bed of grits. I got the filet mignon and it was butter-tender on the inside with a fierce herb-encrusted sear on it. As good as that was, the macaroni and cheese side dish (unlike chain steakhouses, each entree comes with one side dish) was the real surprise. It looked fairly mundane, but it was rich and creamy beyond words. Almost as rich as the corn soup which had huge lumps of crabmeat in it.

On an early Sunday evening, the place only had a few customers so when Timothy Dean overheard me lamenting that my water was empty he came out and set it right. That also gave me the opportunity to buttonhole him a little about the Top Chef process. You do not apply for Top Chef; Top Chef finds you. But beyond that there are a lot of hoops to jump through before you get on the air.

As Eli Kirshtein (the evil gnome) from last season told me when we ate at Eno in Atlanta (I am such a food-whore name dropper, aren't I?), being on Top Chef can easily double your business. Dean told me that he was warning his staff to prepare for the onslaught. In fact, the only snag in my visit was trying to reach someone for a reservation. As I mentioned, this particular night showing up without a reservation was not a problem, but I expect it soon will be.

Prime is in Fell's Point which is better known for Bertha and her mussels than for fine dining. Furthermore, it is in the northern end just off Broadway on Eastern Avenue in an area more known for its tacquerias and take-out chinese joints than gourmet steakhouses. But it's just a short walk from the waterfront and offers valet service, always a plus in parking space deprived Fell's Point.

Part of the fun of reality shows is picking a contestant and cheering for them. As a Baltimoron, I am going to be a big-time homer and form Team Dean. Not only is he the local hero, but his cooking has the chops to go over big at the judge's table.

Ride Samaritans

Being the masochist that I am, I signed up for the Tour Du Port bike ride this year and decided to do the 50 mile route. I do about one of these charity rides a year. Last year it was the Tour Dem Parks on the hottest day of the year. With the Du Port being in October I expected better weather and I got it. Setting off at 7:30 sharp, the first leg went from the Canton waterfront across upper Fells Point, around the Inner Harbor, through Federal Hill and back to the National Aquarium on the waterfront. There I got my chain lubed {insert Bevis and Butthead snickering here} and grabbed some snackage.

According to the cue sheet, the next rest stop was in another 23 miles which took me through some of the rusty parts of decaying Baltimore, past lots of barking dogs in greater Dundalk (and I haven't lived in Baltimore long enough to make Dundalk and Essex jokes), and finally along long stretches of marshland to North Point Park.

There I carb loaded once again as I reflected on the advantages of bicycling over running. Primarily that stopping for a food break is not frowned upon. North Point Park was quite large and rather scenic as well as being the general area of the Battle of Baltimore where the British were beaten in the under-heralded War of 1812.

It was those last twenty miles that proved to be the test of my mettle. The clips on my biking shoes had gotten rather worn from using them as brakes on the Bike NYC ride earlier this year and now the left foot wasn't clipping in right. And then I started passing a series of people fixing flats. I was counting my blessings until I heard an all too familiar hissing off my bike.

In one of Murphy's corollaries, I only get flats on the rear tire which means having to wrestle with the chain and gears to put it on and off. I waved off several concerned passers-by as I changed the tube, but when it came time to get the wheel back on, I finally accepted the assistance of two guys that asked if I needed help. Which I am glad I did since it took all three of us to figure out the CO2 cartridge.

After an earlier flat I learned the hard way that my frame mounted pump was more decorative than useful. I had bought the cartridge gizmo in hopes that I would never have to use it, but to my surprise, it worked perfectly. The tires ballooned up to a road worthy 65 psi in an instant.

I finished the last ten miles against a strong headwind and a suspicious number hills. I collected my tee shirt and burrito and hoped I had sufficiently thanked the good Samaritans that had helped me in my moment of need. Now when I pass stranded bikers I will make more than a token effort to check if they need help. And I will keep two CO2 cartridges in my bag, one to use and one to share.

A Catonsville Fourth

The quaint little town of Catonsville, just over the river from Ellicott City, has an old-fashioned Fourth of July parade every year. What distinguishes it from other small town parades all over the country is the lengths people go to in order to secure prime seats for the show. Days ahead, people start lining the street with lawn chairs and blankets and benches. They use cord or cable or rope to secure their site and will often leave their family name taped to the lawn furniture.

This morning I rode my bike up the trolley trail to take in this display of possessive patriotism. The parade doesn't start until 3 p.m. but all these pictures were taken between ten and eleven this morning.


Folding chairs, beach chairs, camping chairs, it doesn't matter.


Some groups of chairs are more organized than others.


If you don't have enough chairs for the space you need to save, use police tape to reserve the extra space.


These were two of the nicest chairs on the route. People are mighty trusting with their stuff on the Fourth.


There is a brand new ice cream shop in Catonsville called You Scream. They marked off their section of the sidewalk for their customers. I had some delicious cherry italian ice because it looked so patriotic.


Nothing says patriotism like paying your taxes.


And some people take the color scheme to the extreme.


The Knight of Columbus want to wish you a happy Independence Day, hon.

So whatever you do today, celebrate the freedom and spirit that makes America great.

He's Just Not That Into Baltimore

My wife dragged me kicking and screaming to see He’s Just Not That Into You this weekend. I actually don’t mind chick flicks, especially when they star Scarlett Johansson as a voluptuously predatory (to use a phrase from the WaPo review) aspiring singer/yoga instructor that sets her sights on a married Bradley Cooper (whom I am still so gay for). As a bonus, the movie is ostensibly set in Baltimore, but it’s clear that a vast majority of the film was shot on a Hollywood soundstage.

They tried to slip a few Bawlmer sights in when they could. One of the extravagantly trendy apartments these yuppies live in had a clear view of the Domino Sugar sign. Another window looked out over that waterfront high-rise building that looks like a spaceship landed on top of it.

The movie has a lot of little snippets where random people dispense relationship horror stories and advice. One had a guy standing on the Fells Point dock with the fireboat behind him. That said Baltimore to me. Another establishing shot had some characters walking down Thames (and it took me a few years to learn that ‘Thames’ rhymes with ‘James’ and starts like ‘Thane’) and walk into a bar that looks like it could be Coopers but had some other name in the movie. A few outdoor scenes were clearly shot on the marbled stepped streets of Baltimore, but others just screamed back lot.

The Baltimore Sun has a great article explaining that Baltimore was originally going to have a bigger part, but the budget wouldn’t allow that much location shooting or clearances. I guess Jennifer Anniston and Ben Affleck’s salaries chewed all that up.

Even the product placements were all over the map. For example, when Bradley starts hitting on ScarJo in the grocery store, he’s buying a six pack of Clipper City beer, but they walk outside and its some generic grocery store name that I’ve never heard of. The group of girls that the guys just aren’t into all work at World Spice Company, which at least acknowledges Baltimore’s heritage, but it just seems odd not to hear mention of McCormick.

At least it is nice to see Baltimore recognized as a real place. For a lot of movies that are set in Washington, DC, the film crews do a bunch of establishing shots of the monuments and then move up the B-W Parkway to film street scenes in cheaper and simpler Baltimore.

So Drew, Jennifer, and Scarlett, next time you film a movie set in Baltimore send more than the second unit. I’d be glad to show you around. Just leave Ben, Justin, and Kevin behind. But bring Bradley.

BlatantCommentWhoring™: How much of city should a movie show?

Dam Panorama

Not far from my house is Patapsco State Park which is considered to have some of the best mountain biking in the region. On my regular biking route I often see mountain bikers parked on the side of Landing Road as they go into the park. Just about two years ago they extended the trail all the way out to Ilchester Road and put in another swinging bridge across the river. Now there is away for hikers, bicycle riders, and dog walkers to get into the park without going through then entrance and paying a fee. The very small bit of frugalness I inherited from my father likes that.



Within the park is the ruins of an old, old hydroelectric dam called Bloede’s Dam, after the guy that invented it. Floods have torn away some of it, but most of the dam remains. Since Labor Day was a beautiful sunny day, I decided to load my camera onto my bike and take some pictures. I stop on the side of the trail and walk down the water’s edge. And the dam is just too big. I can’t get the whole dam thing into the view finder. So I take a bunch of pictures and photostitch them together. I end up with a pretty dam picture that is 8687 pixels by 2278 pixels which makes it nearly twenty mega pixels in size and over twelve megabytes of disc space. And as hard as I look I can't find the seams between the images. That is one big dam picture.

Since I have unlimited bandwidth on Flickr, I upload it there as well as other pictures from that day, so if you want the big version, here it is. But if you download it make sure you have a dam fast connection.

Is Sarah Palin Really America's Hottest Governor?

With John McCain’s pick of Sarah Palin as his running mate, much focus will be paid to her physical attractiveness. Alaska Magazine named her America’s Sexiest Governor, but Esquire called Baltimore's Martin O'Malley "the best young mayor in America" even before he ran for state office. I am going to show some Maryland pride and insist that our own Governor Muscle Shirt not get neglected. Let's compare the two:

Governor	Martin O’Malley Maryland (D)	Sarah Palin Alaska (R)
Age	45	44
Children	Grace, Tara, William, and Jack	Track, Bristol, Willow, Piper and Trig (not pictured)
Notable Avocation	Irish Folk-Rock Band Leader	High School Basketball Star (#22)
Vice Presidential Hopes	Dashed when Hillary Clinton failed to get nominated.	Dependent on a 72-year-old maverick war hero.

McCain has clearly gone for the game-changing Hail Mary pass with his pick. Palin is an unknown quantity of Quayle-esque proportions. Only time will tell if it is a gambit that will succeed. In the meantime, O'Malley is waiting in the wings to march into the breech if needed.

BlatantCommentWhoring®: Who is your favorite sexy politician?

Josh On Jeopardy

Back in February of 2007, I read two books about what it takes to be a Jeopardy champion. While I am no slouch in filling my brain with useless trivia, I really admire the guys and gals that can do it under the hot stage lights in front of uber-cool Alex Trebek. In the comments, Josh Fruhlinger of the Comics Curmudgeon blog mentioned that he would love to get on Jeopardy. Well, his dream came true.



He took the online test and finally made it. He and his lovely wife went out to California at their own expense (Jeopardy only pays the travel expenses of returning champions) and put the buzzer in his hand. His episode aired Tuesday night and Josh arranged for a watching party at PJ’s near the Johns Hopkins campus.


I got there to find a small crowd already gathered and I sat with some of Josh’s relatives and other blog readers including fellow Comics Cardinal Zippers the Mule. By the time the show started there were at least fifty friends of Josh and shanghaied bar patrons watching the big screen. We cheered his every right answer (and there were a lot) but the reigning champion was just a demon with the buzzer and got all the Daily Doubles. Josh’s only serious faux pas was not realizing that the Maryland state fish, the rockfish, is also known as a striped bass.


Despite his excellent play, he was third second going into Final Jeopardy where World Leaders was the category. In addition to being the world’s leading expert on newspaper comics (successfully defining a very narrow niche being one of the keys to internet success), Josh also writes an occasional column for Wonkette called The Foreigns where he mocks scandals that various foreign heads of state have fallen into.


And while his ‘question’ of “Who is Dubcek?” was close, the right answer of “Who is Golda Maier” eluded him. Still, Alex Trebek was impressed by the good guess as well as Josh’s fine fashion sense.


After the show Josh gave a brief tale of how the taping went and how little the contestants are allowed to hob-nob with Alex. He took some questions and everyone congratulated on his close brush with game show riches.


After the show, Josh sat down and we talked about all sorts of things like the nature of internet celebrity, the inner workings of Wonkette, and the ubiquity of internet porn. Despite being fellow Baltimorons and having had e-mailed each other in the past (I had even sent him a wedding gift), we had never met face-to-face. He didn’t even know my real name, but he recognized me immediately from the many pictures of myself on my blog.


One of my mantras for the internet era is that there is no level of fame too low to not have a cult of personality. And Josh deserves one since he has such a great attitude and sharp sense of humor. Now in addition to his roles as World Famous Comics Blogger and Occasional Wonkette Contributor, he can add Failed Jeopardy Contestant to his list of titles. And that is a genuine accomplishment I am sincerely envious of. Thanks for letting me live that thrill vicariously through you, Josh.

BlantantSelfPromotion™: If you are here from either Comics Curmudgeon or The Gene Pool, check out all my comics posts.

Pier Six PolkaFest

When I did the Battle of the Rock Dinosaurs last month, I liked the review format so much that I have decided to use it for all my concert reviews even if I don't have two or more shows to compare. We had never been to Pier Six for a concert and my son has always wanted to see Weird Al live, so we headed down to the Inner Harbor last Friday.

Band	Weird Al Yankovich
Blurry Overexposed Cell Phone Picture
Synopsis	Weird Al brought all his song parodies and wacky routines to Pier Six. He played all the classics and the latest hits.
Opening Act	None. Instead, I took my family to McCormick and Schmicks for happy hour. While M&S is a tony semi-special occasion seafood place, the bar area has great happy hour specials. The signature item is a half-pound hamburger for $1.95. Plus, unlike the DC branches, the Baltimore location has a great water view. My son and I went through three rounds of appetizers before time ran out. The show didn't start until 8:30 so we wandered over to OtherBigBoxOfBooks next to the Hard Rock. I love that location with the big old chimneys right in the middle of the store.
Stage Presence	Al brings it. He does a costume change for nearly every number. He puts a lot of effort into the performance and all the impersonations are dead on.
Stage Show	While he is backstage changing, they run bits from his old shows on the big screen. These get nearly as many laughs as the songs themselves. His backing band also gets into the act with matching costumes and parodies of rock cliches. The accordion solos were pretty funny as well as the props and gimmicks.
Amusing Anecdote	He doesn't do a lot of stage patter, but for the encore, he says that he has just enough time for one more song and then goes into a fifteen minute version of "Albequerque."
Highlights	You haven't lived until you have seen the twelve Startrooper kickline for "The Saga Begins." "White and Nerdy" and "Amish Paradise" were also big crowd pleasers
Show Length	2:15 but that included the rather long interludes.
Audience Demeanor	Definitely a family show. As a pair of parents with a geeky teenage kid, we fit right in. There were kids as young as nine or ten, but they all had a good time.
Noticeable Omissions	"Like A Surgeon" - Maybe Madonna is a little too old school for this crowd.
Other Reviews	None I could find. The show was only about half-sold and escaped the notice of mainstream press.
Verdict	A great time with a lot of funny songs. There's a reason he is the king of song parodies.

Father's Day Ride

Father’s Day has few perks since it is the bastard stepchild of Mother’s Day in terms of history and importance. With few firm traditions, its up to the dad in the family to make of the day what he wants. I used to use my Father’s Day prerogative to force the rest of the family to go on a family bike ride every year. I would pick a family friendly trail such as the NCR, the B&A or the Mt. Vernon Trail. I tried not to push too hard and strove to keep the grumbling to a minimum. A few years ago even this modest activity became more honored in the breach and my suggestion for a family ride would be met with general eye-rolling and heavy sighing. And that was just my wife.

Back when I was doing the Tour Dem Parks ride, the last segment of the ride was supposed to be out to the Gwynns Falls Trail and back to Carroll Park. That day was unbearably hot and I was sagging after 25 miles of ride. That is when it hit me that the Gwynn Falls Trail would be perfect for one last father-son bike ride before he went off to college.

I reminded him several times during the week that we had plans for Sunday, but when he asked to stay over at a friend’s house Saturday night, I figured he was planning to ditch me. But to my surprise, he walked in the door at 9 am, if not eager, at least awake. We carbo-loaded a breakfast and loaded our bikes onto my new bike carrier. We started the ride at Carroll Park which is just fifteen miles up the road from my house in the industrial wasteland of south Baltimore.

The Gwynn Falls Trail goes all the way from Middle River to the Security Boulevard Park and Ride and winds its way through southwest Baltimore and Leakin Park. Leakin Park is to Bodymore, Murderland as the Pine Barrens are to Sopranos, New Jersey. The park is big and little traveled and a great place to dump bodies. The trail is an attempt to give the area a little more purpose than just being an outdoor graveyard for drug dealers that have annoyed someone.

The park FAQ has this information:

Is the Trail a safe place to be?
Yes, the Baltimore City Police Department has assigned police officers to patrol the Trail which has experienced no serious incidents since beginning operation in 1999. This is clearly an example of "a used trail being a safe trail."

Methinks they doth protest too much. In our two hours on the trail we saw maybe a dozen people total and were often the only riders in sight. Compared to the traffic jam that places like the NCR and BWI trails are, the quiet and solitude were a pleasant change of pace. Make no doubt about it, the tree lined canopy makes for a relaxing cool ride, but the Gwynn Falls Trail is definitely one of the better kept outdoor recreational secrets in Mobtown.

The path itself is a mixed bag of newly paved dedicated paths and bridges, abandoned roadway, and gravel trail all connected by the occasional detour down or around an active road. Heading upstream there is one long slightly steep stretch that leads to the unpaved part of the trail. This packed gravel section, while muddy, is the flattest part of the trail and a lot of fun if you have good fat tires and don't mind a little splashing.

We went a little past the main trailhead at Leakin Park but turned around rather than go up the last switchback. And like all riverside trails, going downstream was a lot more fun than upstream. When we got back to the car tired and out of water, I asked my son why he came along. He said it was because would have never heard the end of it from Mom if he hadn’t gone since this might be the last chance to do this. I thanked him for the effort.

On the way home, we stopped for gelato and went to a bike shop where he helped me pick out a new rear rack and bag as a Father’s Day present. And I woke up the next morning to find that he had left me a “Happy Father’s Day” message on my Facebook wall. That ride and that message are two of the greatest Father’s Day gifts I have gotten. I want to tell him thanks for the ride. It's been a great eighteen years as a father.

A Taste of Hon-ey

My wife had to go to Johns Hopkins this weekend to take a test so I drove her there and decided to kill an hour or two in Hampden. I had forgotten that this weekend was Hon-Fest, Baltimore's celebration of everything kitschy. Luckily I was early enough to still get some street parking because all of 36th Street aka The Avenue was closed off from Chestnut to Falls Road. There were street vendors and festival food and crafts everywhere. And plenty of people dressed in their full Hon-ware regalia, which is anything remotely 50s or 60s with big hair and tacky colors.

For non-Baltimoron readers, "hon" is a local term of endearment used by waitresses and hairdressers and the like. I have been unironically "hon"-ed by all sorts of people. However, in Baltimore, the word has taken on a larger embrace of all things trashy. John Waters in a Washington Post article has officially renounced his association with hon-culture. From the article he says:

"To me, it's used up," Waters said of Hon style. "It's condescending now. The people that celebrate it are not from it. I feel that in some weird way they're looking slightly down on it. I only celebrate something I can look up to."

I'm not really sure how Baltimore became associated with all things kitschy except through Water's off-kilter tributes to his hometown like Hairspray. But he clearly created a beehived monster. The phenomenon has outgrown its roots and the flames of Hon-ness are fanned by marketing juggernaut Cafe Hon in Hampden (recently reviewed by Alex here).

Of more concern to me was the notice that Atomic Books is moving off the Avenue to consolidate digs with Atomic Pop on Falls Road. I wrote about Atomic Books back in this post and I have irregularly patronized the store since its original location on Maryland Avenue. Atomic Books is noted for also being devoted to all things quirky. However, unlike the backward looking nostalgia of the Hon-osphere, Atomic Books tries to stay cutting edge and avant-garde. Not that it doesn't carry it's share of retro-merchandise, but their product selection has an edginess that goes beyond glittery cat-eye glasses.

Not being a native of the area, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to react to this institutionalized celebration of a very narrow slice of time and culture in Baltimore history. It's like when I travel to foreign countries and the tour always includes a night of traditional dancers in native costumes. And then after the show the performers change back into jeans and tee-shirts and go listen to pop-music at a nightclub. They are just giving the tourists a look at how they expect things to be rather than how they really are.

BlatantCommentWhoring™: When does pop-culture promotion cross over into patronizing exploitation?

Tour Dem Parks

Yesterday, despite the heat, I went on the Tour Dem Parks charity bicycle ride. I like these little events sponsored by local charities where you pay a fee, do a ride, and get a tee shirt. While I admire people like HRH Courtney that can go out and raise a ton of money for a super-charity, that is not my style or level of dedication. This event was in support of Baltimore City Parks and the route went through as many as possible. Since the focus is on parks, many of which I had never even heard of, here are my impressions.

CARROLL PARK – The ride started and stopped here. I had never been to this park, the centerpiece of which is the Carroll Mansion which is one of those minor tourist attractions I have never been to. All over were signs to not park on the grass which would have been tempting had I not been so severely warned. Since I got there an hour early, I got real close parking and helped myself to some bananas for breakfast.

MIDDLE BRANCH PARK – From Carroll Park, the Gwynns Falls Trail runs through some of Baltimore’s finest industrial wasteland including the incinerator that welcomes visitors to Charm City. Once through there it becomes the part of Middle River Park, a nice sleepy park (and I say sleepy because a few people were sleeping on the park benches) along the Middle River that is part swamp and part open sewer. Right near the end of the park was a gorgeous boat house where some folks were washing something.

SOLO GIBBS PARK – Rejoining the main route took us around Ravens Stadium and then through Solo Gibbs Parks which as we navigated bollards and skinny paths seemed more residential playground than full-fledged park, but it was busy and went by fast.

FEDERAL HILL PARK - The route through Federal Hill was some of the most tedious with lots of cross streets and traffic, but the view from Federal Hill was worth it. Overlooking the entire Inner Harbor, this little park is one of the most charming places in Baltimore. Lots of riders were taking breaks for pictures and sightseeing. I had never actually been to the park before and it was smaller but prettier than I had imagined. Down below we could see a throng of runners on a charity run.



HARBORPLACE - While not technically a park, the Inner Harbor is definitely park-like and as we swooped through the plaza, we joined the route of the charity run (it might have been Susan Komen or Race For The Cure, I never quite got the name) all the way out to Canton. The race volunteers and traffic police kept yelling at the bicyclists to stay away from the runners and sometimes gave contradictory directions on which side of the street to stay on. Still, it was nice to have Boston Street closed to traffic.

O’DONNELL SQUARE – Canton is one of my favorite Baltimore neighborhoods, but we just zipped through once we were free of the runners.

PATTERSON PARK- Patterson Park is the largest park in Baltimore and should be a Central Park or Boston Meadows style centerpiece, but it isn’t. While well landscaped, it was a little shabby. The trail wandered through the hill and a large tree downed by recent storms nearly totally blocked one part of the path. Right at the southwest corner we went by a gorgeous mega-playground built like a fort that was completely kid free at 9 am on a Sunday morning. The first rest area was right in front of the Patterson Pagoda, a regional landmark. It was cool to see it up close.

CLIFTON PARK – The ride to Clifton Park was through some of the worst war-zone abandoned rowhouse areas of Baltimore. On the left just north of Johns Hopkins Hospital, there was a huge four block area that had been bulldozed clear. A big sign noting what is was for went by to fast to read. All the bicyclists waved at the ladies coming out of church in their Sunday finery and big hats. At Clifton Park, the bicylclists started getting confused about the route. It went up a large steep hill past the clubhouse of the infamous Clifton Golf Course and back down the other side.

HERRING RUN PARK – Right at this park I saw a Taco Truck setting up on the side of the road with a lot of guys in soccer jerseys setting up a field. Then it was around Lake Montebello on a very nice biking/jogging path. Past this point the route wandered through some very nice neighborhoods including the elderly housing apartments that stand where Memorial Stadium used to be. While not marked on the cue sheet, one park was surrounded by mansions and completely landscaped with flowers all in bloom.

WYMAN PARK – This shaded meandering park went by too fast to enjoy as we headed downhill to the next rest area across the street from the Stieff Silver Building. Here the heat was beginning to build and plenty of people were using the hose to cool off.

DRUID HILL PARK – Truly the crown jewel of Baltimore City, this park was busy with all sorts of activity. The route took us along the lake, past the conservatory and zoo and to a beautiful path behind the park that led down a steep switchback to the Jones Falls Trail. This trail kept appearing and disappearing as it led back into the central area of Baltimore.

MOUNT ROYAL - At this point I was getting confused and just following groups of riders and we wandered through the Mount Royal area. At one point in the median of a bigger road, a group of more serious cyclists were waiting at the route split for a lost buddy. The long route went from there west to the trailhead of the Gwynns Falls Trail. That was the trail/park I was really looking forward to but I checked my watch and odometer. I had gone over twenty-five miles already, it was after eleven and over ninety degrees. I headed back to the start.

CARROLL PARK – The route back went along MLK Boulevard past UMB and through some newer housing developments including one advertising townhomes in the low 300s. Back at the park, all the ballfields were busy and the announcers were booming over the speakers in Spanish. Back at the Carriage House, all bikers were crowding around the Gatorade. I had a hockey puck burger and a Chipotle pork taco before heading home.



It’s been several years since I did an organized ride in Baltimore and I loved the route of this one. You really saw all aspects of the city, good and bad. And there are some real hidden gem parks along the way. And if somewhere in your travels, you pass a wheezing, puffing guy in a loud gold GT biking jersey, that was me.

A Bitter Taste

Fruit flavored bottled alcoholic drinks were in the news in Maryland this week. At the last minute, Governor Martin “Rockstar” O’Malley declined to sign a bill that would have treated flavored malt-beverage drinks such as Smirnoff Ice and Mike’s Hard Lemonade like beer instead of distilled spirits. This law was pushed by the liquor industry to allow these sweet drinks to be sold wherever beer can be sold and to avoid the much stiffer taxes on hard liquor. It’s all rather arcane, but the Baltimore Sun summed it up pretty well:

If the bill is vetoed, he said, the drinks will be taxed at $1.50 a gallon, the same rate as spirits, instead of the 9 cents a gallon of beer.

Flavored malt beverages, or “alcopops” as opponents call them, are usually less than 5% alcohol, much like beer. Most liquor, like my favorite, Jack Daniels, is around 80 proof, or 40% alcohol. That means that the effective rate for booze is 3¢ an ounce of actual alcohol while a 3.5 beer is 2¢ per liquid ounce of alcohol. Sounds fair enough.

Since the Maryland Attorney General ruled that alcopops are distilled liquor, they should be taxed higher. The effective rate would then become 23¢ an ounce of actual alcohol. This amounts to a tax of about 14¢ a bottle for a sweet drink versus less than a penny for a beer.

That’s enough to get a hard lemonade drinker like me up into a Boston Twisted Tea Party level frenzy. It’s bad enough these drinks cost more than a six pack of beer for just four bottles, now the state wants to nick me for an extra dime on every bottle. I’m outraged.

Opponents of these drinks call them gateway drinks because no teenager has ever drunk a beer despite its bad taste. A rather alarmist editorial in the Washington Post ranted this way:

The drinks, known as "alcopops," "malternatives" and "flavored alcoholic beverages," are popular with young and underage drinkers. Dressed up to taste like lemonade, iced tea and various berry-flavored juices, they are designed to appeal to people who haven't yet developed a palate for booze itself. Wrapped in splashy, multicolored packaging and promoted by images of fresh-faced drinkers who in some instances look college-age, "alcopops" are a hit with entry-level drinkers, especially women (emphasis mine). They are, as Mr. O'Malley put it, "a gateway type of thing."

Now I’m being insulted. I’m a man (last time I checked) that has been drinking for the last 28 years of my life (don’t do the math, Dad) and have never really acquired the taste of beer. Sure, I’ll drink it if there isn’t anything else, but at picnics and other gatherings I like a nice sweet mild intoxicant.

They way to keep alcohol out of the hands of kids is not to make it harder, more annoying, and more expensive for legal adults to enjoy the drink of their preference. In the past twenty-five years, there has been a serious ratcheting down by what I call the No Fun Allowed Crowd. Groups like Mothers Against Drunk Driving have put into place serious restrictions that have arguably saved lives. On the other hand, I have an outraged teen-age son that has to register with Selective Service next month but can’t legally enjoy a refreshing fruity alcoholic malt beverage with his dad for three more years.

And that sucks. Like bitter, sour hard lemonade.

BlatantCommentWhoring™: Are so called alcopops any different from beer?

My Chinese Drinking Buddy

When we went to China we spent a lot of time in social situations with the administration and staff of the host school. Most were polite and quiet and respectful. One was not. The assistant principal was a loud gregarious man that knew maybe ten words of English, but he used them with gusto. At the final dinner, he was pushing shots of rice wine on his guests.

Chinese rice wine is neither. It is an 80 proof whiskey-like spirit distilled from wheat and sorghum. Most people took a sip, grimaced, and politely declined. I impressed the assistant principal by taking several shots and we spent the evening toasting each other.

I promised that if he ever came to the United States I would take him drinking. A week ago the next group of teachers and students from Beijing Middle School 22 showed up and Chen, my drinking buddy was with them. I told him that we were going to go out drinking, but he had added a new phrase in English to his repertoire, "I like to drink water!" And he said it with enthusiasm. In the past six months some medical crisis had put an end to his shot glass lifting ways.

Still, a promise is a promise. We made arrangements to meet all three of the teachers last night at the most authentically Baltimorean place I could think of that would give the Chinese a good impression and a taste of our seafaring heritage. While crabs are THE regional dish, Bertha's in Fells Point is a landmark unto itself, thanks in no part to the ubiquitous bumper stickers.

Twin sisters of different mothers.
My wife (right) and two teachers from China.

As luck would have it, Bertha's was participating in Restaurant Week with a three course dinner menu for $30.08. The rest of the table ordered Stella Artois, which was on special, but Chen stuck to hot water with lemon. We went over the winelist with him and tried to explain the difference between American wine and Chinese wine.

Chen said he wanted "noodles and tomatos", so we ordered the vegetarian ravioli with marinara sauce. For the other two teachers we chose the pine nut encrusted salmon. And, of course, mussels as appetizers all around. The mussels themselves were nearly enough for a meal and the dinner special included a sampler of all the dipping sauces. By the end of the soup and salad course, the Chinese guests were nearly stuffed.

This made for a good conversation about how in China all the dishes are served at once and that soup, no matter what the weather, is for the end, not the beginning, of the meal. When the ravioli came, we explained that it was like dumplings but Italian style. He was a little disappointed that it wasn't American food, but we explained that Italian food was practically American. Since the ladies were full, he sniggled from their salmon and took the leftovers for breakfast the next day.

After dinner we wandered around the rather cold and deserted waterfront of Fells Point while I tried to explain the significance of the port and the slave trade and Frederick Douglass. We bid the teachers good night and my drinking buddy said that the food was "dee-lish-us" and that he really liked Bertha's cooking. So if some blogger ever posts pictures from Beijing of a car with an "Eat Bertha's Mussels" bumper sticker on it, I'll know that I had done my part for international understanding.

BlatantCommentWhoring™: Where would you take a foreign guest with little English to get a taste of your region?

Side note: My neglected stepchild blog, China Sights, has seen an enormous uptick in Google driven traffic recently, so I have uploaded a new batch of pictures to Flickr and I hope to do some more photoblogging soon before I have forgotten all the cute anecdotes about the sights.

Top Ten Tourism "Honor" For Bawlmer

There’s a guy out there named Chuck Thompson flogging a new travel book and his twist is that he tells you how it REALLY is as opposed to the usual puffery travel writers shovel at you. To prove that he is all candid and unvarnished and shit he puts on his book promo web-page a list of the Top Ten Most Overrrated U.S. Tourist Attractions and my adopted Bawlmer makes the cut. Here is what he has to say:

BALTIMORE’S WATERFRONT

Or any derelict city center’s $65 million outlet mall, er, “downtown renovation project.”

What he is trying to say is that all these tacky fake waterfront or historic district tourist areas are Teh Lame. What is great is that he singles out Baltimore’s HarborPlace as the archetypal example. Yes, HarborPlace is a couple of pavilions filled with overpriced gift shops and chain restaurants. Any tourist spot with both a Hooters and a Cheesecake Factory is not “authentic.” And the ticky-tackiness of the dining and retail extends beyond Harborplace itself. The huge gorgeous brick Power Plant has a Hard Rock Café guitar on the smokestack. What other town so proudly wears its middlebrow taste on its sleeve.



What the Baltimore waterfront has is a great view of an open sewer with lots of other attractions within nominal walking distance. The science museum just added a big dino expansion. The world famous aquarium now lets you walk through an ersatz Australia and you can ride paddle boats through the Jones Falls flotsam anytime you want. Baltimore even has the prettiest building full of tacky tourist brochures I have ever seen. It only took dozens of years and bazillions of dollars to build a map dispenser on the last piece of open land left at the Inner Harbor. But we did it.



What we can take pride in is that we are the best of the fake tourist destinations. I get suckered into these areas all the time. The ones that give Baltimore a run for the money are Riverwalk in San Antonio (the granddaddy of the sow’s ear revival trend), the genuinely historic Faneuil Hall and Quincy Market in Boston and the Gaslight District in San Diego. And I have been through some clunkers. Laclede Landing near the St Louis Arch just stunk of Tacky Tourist Drinking District™ flopsweat.

And until some clever entrepreneur decides that there is a market to tour the REAL Bodymore, Murderland and starts offering double decker bus drive-bys (literally) of The Corner/Wire/Homicide highlights, we better stick with our title as the tackiest of them all.

BlatantCommentWhoring™: How tacky is your town's tourist district?