Astronaut Ice Cream!

One of those staples of childhood museum trips was to stop off at the gift shop at the end of the day and get some astronaut ice cream. Crumbling freeze-dried goodness packed in a shiny foil wrapper. It was always one of the highlights of going to any museum, ranking just below the animatronic dinosaurs and just above the screen that would hold your shadow for several seconds after a light turned off. (Of course, it never came close to the planetarium.)

Today I find myself connecting through Houston on my way to California. Capitalizing on a certain NASA center somewhere in this town, there's a "Space Trader" gift shop here in my terminal. They have astronaut ice cream. I can't even remember the last I had any. So I bought some.

You're probably expecting me to say it doesn't taste as good as I remember. But you'd be wrong, it's delicious!

The Fighting White Squirrels of Brevard, North Carolina

I'm sitting in a quaint little coffee shop in the quaint little town of Brevard, NC. Yesterday, I flew out of Newark for the first time in five years. I've always avoided that airport, not just because of the obvious association with Jersey, but also because it seems so difficult to get to without a car. Or at the very least, expensive. But for this trip the only direct flight--not to mention cheapest by far--was out of Newark. My assumption of how difficult it would be to get there couldn't be more wrong. From my apartment it's only a walk of a few minutes to get to the WTC PATH train station. This train, for only $1.75, takes you all the way to Newark's Penn Station. From here you can take any number of trains one stop to Newark airport--and you will never have to wait more than a few minutes. The airport stop has a monorail that takes you right to the terminal of your choice. Sure, it sounds a little complicated since you are effectively taking three trains, but it was surprisingly easy. All told, it took me about fifty minutes to get from my front door to the security line at the airport. On a day with heavy traffic, that's equivalent to a taxi ride to LaGuardia, my usual airport of choice.

I flew into Greenville, SC; again, the cheapest option. From the air I could see that Greenville is booming. The lush green hilly countryside of this part of the country was everywhere marked by the vivid red-orange of freshly unearthed soil. There were roads every which way that curved "just so" to give the future subdivision that meandering feel. Each one wandered to some empty bulbous cul-de-sac where soon innumerable house will huddle around. The airport is still relatively small, so it was easy to find the very generous stranger Lynn had arranged to pick me up. He and I drove an hour and a half deep into the stunning Blue Mountains and finally into North Carolina and the little town of Brevard.

Brevard is a charming little place. The main street has all the little two-story shops you would expect of small town, but in that special small town feel it hits the mark with perfection. Strolling along, you'll find many little restaurants (most serving seafood, for reasons not abundantly clear this far from any major body of water). You'll find Hunters and Gatherers, a little kitsch shop with everything from antique furniture to bars of soap with plastic nuns in them (to was away the sins, of course). Kiwi gelato is across the street, so named for its owner who is the only resident in town native to New Zealand. Next door is the home-made chocolate shop. And so on down the street with cute little shops all the way. At the end of the street is the toy store. It was closed when I walked by last night so I had to content myself with peering in the windows. In one window is a large Lionell train display. This display had everything: the cute little shops of Brevard, the loading station for freight trains, a gondola going up a mountain, and a group of "Homies" break-dancing in a park pavilion. But the best part was when a trolley suddenly sprang to life and raced down the street revealing the most risqué car wash scene ever depicted in a train model town. Picture forthcoming.

Brevard is most famous for it's curious and elusive white squirrels. For reasons unknown, the seem to only inhabit this area, and it's quite the gimmick to capitalize on. Everywhere you can buy white squirrel shirts, mugs, cards, underwear, salt and pepper shakers, and so much more. My personal favorites are the unofficial mascot shirts for the local school. On these are a white squirrel with his dukes up, just above the boldly lettered "Fightin' White Squirrels." I was even fortunate enough to see a real live white squirrel this morning. Supposedly, that's good luck.

Yes! Michigan

I don't generally dwell on the state I've left behind. It was a great place to grow up, and is still a great place to visit. But every once in a while I like to check in and see how things are doing. And I couldn't help but notice this little piece of news coming from dear old Flint, courtesy of the Detroit Free Press.

Here are some of the highlights:

Flint residents now have to watch their butts because Police Chief David Dicks is on the lookout.

Dicks, who took over the department last month on an interim basis, announced that his officers would start arresting people wearing saggy pants that expose skivvies, boxer shorts or bare bottoms.

....

The crime, he says, is disorderly conduct or indecent exposure, both misdemeanors punishable by 93 days to a year in jail and/or fines up to $500.

Dicks, 41, broke down his interpretation of the laws as such: Pants pulled completely below the buttocks with underwear showing is disorderly conduct; saggy pants with skin of the buttocks showing is indecent exposure, and saggy pants, not completely below the buttocks, with underwear exposed results in a warning.

While nearly an hour's drive from Detroit, Flint is a pretty dangerous place—far more than Detroit itself. Is this a possible solution? It sort of reminds me of Guilianni's crackdown on drug dealing in New York by ramping up parking ticket enforcement. A bit of an out there idea, but it did have some success there. The article continues:

Flint's not the first city to take a look at policing the exposure of underwear. Pontiac, Auburn Hills, Atlanta and cities across the nation have debated the issue. But Dicks makes the assertion that wearing pants below the waist can give police probable cause to search saggers for other crimes, such as weapon and drug possession. He said because sagging is a crime, it presents probable cause for police to search saggers.

Pontiac and Auburn Hills are both suburbs between Detroit and Flint.

Dicks also scoffed at any suggestions that any enforcement unfairly targets black men and teens.

"This is not a black issue. This is an issue that's all walks of life," said Dicks, who is black. "Many people from different ethnic backgrounds and races are doing this fad."

But perhaps the best part of this article, and the true reason why the Detroit Free Press will always be dear to my heart, is the info-graphic they've created to help visualize this crime.Thanks for that, now I know. Yes! Michigan, the feeling truly is forever.

Wherein the Girl Scouts Thwart Andrew Once Again

I have a long history with the Girl Scouts and their cookies. Growing up, how many times did I wish it were socially acceptable to defect over from the Boy Scouts. Popcorn? Please. Those cookies!* And yet, throughout all the years of my Thin Mint- and Tagalong-enriched life I can never seem to find a Scout selling cookies. Never. To this very day, I've never bought my own cookies.

Growing up, we had a steady supply coming every cookie season through the typical mom's-coworker's-daughters channel. In college, it was the same, only through the mail up to me. Ever since moving to New York, though, they've been harder to come by. No one goes door to door here, and most grocery stores won't let them stand out front with a little table. The Girl Scouts have a Cookie Finder website, but every time I enter my zip code it says that cookie season for New York has ended. There's a place to put in your email address, but I've been on that mailing list for two years now, and have never gotten an email notice of cookie season.

Somehow, all these years, those Scouts have managed to elude me—which is surprising given that it's a fundraiser and I'm more than willing to contribute. So I've spent the last few years in the city pandering for delicious scraps from colleagues and coworkers who live in the suburbs, or getting lucky and calling home to Michigan when there happen to be some around my mom's house.

Tonight I happened upon a blog post of a friend of mine who has been involved with the Girl Scouts for many years. She quotes the following passage from a GS newsletter:

Try a Girl Scouts’ Thin Mint Blizzard at Dairy Queen
Are you craving Girl Scout Thin Mints – America’s favorite Girl Scout cookie? You’re in luck. Girl Scouts of the USA and International Dairy Queen have created a national partnership, including a Girl Scouts’ Thin Mint Blizzard, which will be the featured blizzard of the month for July.

Dairy Queen will also have a special “Dairy Queens’ Girl Scouts Appreciation Week” July 7-13, in which local Girl Scout service units and troops can host informational booths about Girl Scouts, the new Girl Scout Leadership Experience, camps, and all the other great Girl Scout programs and activities for all girls in kindergarten through grade 12.

Thin Mints and Dairy Queen? Could a better union ever be conceived? Naturally, I went immediately to Google to find the nearest DQ. Jersey City, of course. Funny how something 3.3 miles from my apartment can be so far away. Heck, my office is 4 miles away. But my office is in Manhattan, and Jersey City is in, well, Jersey. The Hudson is a far more effective barrier to those east of it than those west of it.

Still, July and August are busy travel months for me. In the next few weeks I'll be in North Carolina and California, and I'm hoping to head down to Baltimore or up to Boston as well. One thing's for certain, my eyes will be open along the way.

* I heartily support both the Boy Scouts and the Girl Scouts organizations. I mean no disrespect to either having been a Boy Scout myself. But really, popcorn? Come on guys.