When choosing a museum to visit, I feel like Goldilocks picking a bed.
Some are tooooooo big.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art
I break out in a sweat when I enter the Met. Tiffany windows? Suits of armor? The Romance of the Renaissance? I wander around for hours and at the end of the day feel like I’ve spent the time inside a kaleidoscope where I’ve looked at a lot of beautiful things but none of them stuck. Continue reading →
When confronted with paying the admission fee during my recent visit to Washington Irving’s Sunnyside, I was presented with the option of joining Historic Hudson Valley as a member. This kind of thing appeals to me. I picture myself in a series of decadent ball gowns, flitting from one red carpet gala to the next. By happenstance, I wound up in Washington D.C. at the Kennedy Center Honors in 2009 with the President and First Lady, Springsteen, Mel Brooks – not my usual social circle. I threw myself at Alan Alda on the coat check line, gushing hysterically about the brilliance of M*A*S*H. It was humiliating, yet strangely exhilarating.
Last week I introduced you to St. Pete (Florida For Grownups-Part I), a sophisticated city destination for grownups seeking to explore a Disney-alternative in Florida. Here are some of the great things to do while you’re there.
The best way to orient yourself is to take an evening walking tour with Ghost Tours.com. Leaving from the Hooker Tea Company (this is a PG-13 trip after all) the tour winds along Beach Drive, the centerpiece of the city’s revitalization efforts. You’ll pass rumored haunts, like the Vinoy, several private residences and the Ponce De Leon. According to our guide a former Rockette burned to death in the hotel. And Ceviche, its top-notch tapas restaurant, was used as a morgue during World War II. This may be your first clue that you’re not in Orlando anymore. Continue reading →
“Almost all U.S. airports are utterly barren of things to do. The dirty little lunch counters are always choked with permanent sitters staring at their indigestible food. . . The traveler consigned to hours of tedious waiting can only clear a spot on the floor and sit on his baggage and, while oversmoking, drearily contemplate his sins.”
Airport conditions haven’t changed much since this article was published in Fortune in 1946. Except for the smoking. Now smokers are confined to those glass rooms, a human terrarium. I always feel a bit sorry for them, especially when kids stare and point, like they’re caged zoo animals. Continue reading →