The best way to pull off an authentic German town look is to use Manuscript font for all your signs, call everything a “Haus” and add “nn” to the end of all your words. That is, if you take the town of Leavenworth, WA, as the shining example of doing things rightte.
I had heard quite a bit about this faux German town and I thought it would be an excellent Saturday jaunt in the Subaru.
I was half right. It was a jaunt.
The town is a surreal example of Marketing on Steroids. You could easily tell the townsfolk from the tourists. One side wore plastic smiles and traditional German clothing, the other carried cameras and oohed and aahed at all things kitsch.
All it took for anyone to open a shop in Leavenworth, it seemed, was to have a collection of knick-knacks. The more kitschy, the more successful. There were kitchen plates emblazoned with the German flag and beer mug (with foam) hats. I spied a potholder with the words “A grumpy German is a sour Kraut”. I actually laughed. In my mind.
And just to throw this out there before you go: Did you know that the etymology (big word to mean history) of the word “kitsch” is German?
My iMac tripped and fell on its face.
Dahlia Lounge is home to my newest, favoritest, bestest last meal on earth. You can tell that to the burly men in uniforms outside my cell.
Donut balls shaken in a paperbag of sugar and cinnamon, served with two types of dips – one jam and one vanilla mascarpone – both outrageously sweet. I don’t even know what mascarpone is. I just like to say it, and I’m totally winging the spelling here.
And while I’m on the topic of donut balls: Why isn’t Dahlia Lounge serving me the rest of the donut? I mean, the actual donut itself?
Who created the first donut anyway? And why does it have a hole in the middle? What does every donut store in the world do with the leftover “balls”?
I smell a conspiracy.
This is what Lychee and Strawberry Champagne gelato looks like. When in Vancouver, BC, please, please, for the love of all things sweet and unnecessary, go to La Casa Gelato to try at least one of their 208 flavors. We’re talking Wasabi, Garlic, Durian and the more “normal” flavors like Watermelon and Cranberry Rosemary. It looks like a melting mass of blob here, but take my word that it tastes good.
Right after our gelato lunch, Jay and dad had pies for tea. Lemon Buttermilk and Raspberry. It was very good pie.
These amounts of sugar, in combination with three cups of coffee in a single day, may be the reason Jay could drive the 150 miles back to Seattle from Vancouver last night. He fell asleep a second before his head hit the pillow.
Being a tourist is gruelling.
I was on a long walk today on 3rd Avenue and a jingling caught my attention.
It came from the woman ahead of me. Her keys, which were hooked on the outside of her purse, were jingling as she swayed down the sidewalk. There were at least 10 keys and three forms of ID hanging on her purse strap.
I thought:
(a) She lives in some sort of fortified apartment.
(b) She is a security guard for the Federal Reserve.
(c) Why aren’t those keys and IDs in her purse?
(d) I need more locks.
My bag held one key, one lonely form of ID, and $20 in cash.
Am I missing something? Where’s my security pass? Why does my door only have one lock? Why can’t I be trusted with 10 keys to feel important?
I want to beep something to get somewhere. Perhaps we can set up a toll plaza at our house. Maybe some sort of E-Z Pass system. Yeah. I think Jay might buy into that idea. It’s another gadget he can make.
This brings a smile to my face, however old I get. Who would have thought that Sears, that old stuffy department store, would hold the key to my happiness?
Look at this shirt. Just look at it. Doesn’t that make you want to go, “Ahhh”?
It doesn’t matter that I found it in the Kids’ Section. It also doesn’t matter that it was hanging on the same rack as several T-shirts printed with Disney characters, including Snow White.
What matters is that the cashier at the counter beamed happily and offered, “You know, a long time ago, I worked at a Hello Kitty store and dressed up in one of those Hello Kitty costumes. This poor kid was so afraid of me, he kept crying.
“I ended up in that costume one more hour than I needed to, because the person who was supposed to come and take over never showed up.
She hesitated, then added thoughtfully, “It was hot in there.”
Walking into Sears is like walking back in time. There is something quaint, slightly dated about the smell, the look and the sales people in the store. I can’t put my finger on it, but it feels different.
No matter. $9.99 later, I am one happy Sears shopper.
I just read a story in the Los Angeles Times about the success of Spam in South Korea. The meat is considered so gourmet and such a luxury item that South Koreans buy the cans as gifts and exchange them during the Chusok festival.
Eight million cans of Spam change hands. That market is the biggest outside of the United States.
Hmmm. Spam. The word belongs to an elite family of words that I cannot say without taking on a glazed, vacant look. I don’t know if I drool. You’ll have to ask the people around me at the time.
Other such powerful words include Krispy Kreme, cupcakes and possibly Yong Tau Foo.
I can be pretty transparent about what I like. I don’t think I could ever stay calm if someone brought out a plate of Krispy Kremes. My body will give my mind away.
Perhaps we spend a large portion of our lives hiding ourselves. I mean, we are animals, after all. So basically we’ve just become higher form animals that happen to be able to calm ourselves to look civilized all the time.
Scene: Spam, Krispy Kreme, cupcakes on a plate.
Dot’s mind: Down, boy, down!
Dot’s face: Vacant, faraway look.
Dot’s voice: Hmmm. Spam.
Dot’s hands: Gimme one of those…
What was becomes what is.
So here’s our old door at Berry Street in Williamsburg. Just as I remembered it. The loft is a great deal nicer than when we lived in it. Andrew’s done a great job turning it into an awesome studio.
But the neighborhood is changing fast.
Right across the street is this new monstrosity. I hear units go for at least $750,000 each. When did hipster come with a price tag?
Funny how real struggling artists gave Williamsburg its original grit and personality but now New Yorkers will pay a premium to live “edgy”.
What is edgy anyway? There are many who dress tatty not by choice, and then there are those who spend a great deal of time and money recreating tatty chic.
It’s the new new old look. When something familiar takes on a new guise while still looking like its old self, I think it’s time for an aspirin.
See more of Dot and Rino’s excellent adventure in New York City. I take no responsibility for the Playboy jigsaw puzzle in the loft. It’s Andrew’s new decor. Very 2005.
More on my New York adventure in a bit. Here is Jay enjoying banana pudding hand-carried from Magnolia Bakery in the West Village in Manhattan in our Seattle house. Alas, work prevented him from partaking of the said banana pudding on site, but Dot made her trip worthwhile for this moment.
Please notice that Jay is also wearing a new shirt from Barneys Co-Op. The shirt was so cheap because it was missing a button. We only noticed it when he put it on. D’oh!
Everyone behaved themselves. No one was terribly drunk. No one spilled red wine on the white tablecloths. No one told embarrassing stories.
See what went down at Ty and Heather’s wedding in Denver.
Joel has an actual money shot on his blog. Scroll down to the bachelor’s party shots . Er, Dan, what’s happening there?
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