Catch The Wave
Hello World,
Happy July! Sunday will be Independence Day, and I hope that you have one for the books, and by that I don't mean the kind that shows up in the Police Blotter section of the newspaper, where they round up a bunch of drunken revelers in their underwear, dancing on top of bus shelters and covered with whipped cream. No, I'm thinking of something more in keeping with the patriotic nature of the holiday, where you declare your independence from drudgery, claim the liberty of a hammock, and pursue the happiness of lemonade and watermelon. Or in the immortal words of Benjamin Franklin, "We must all hang together, or most assuredly, we shall all miss the all-you-can-eat holiday buffet at The Olive Garden, so let's get cracking, by jingo!" Hmmm, somehow that last part doesn't sound exactly right, but I happen to be of the opinion that July 4th is one of those holidays that there is no wrong way to celebrate, so get out there and do whatever tickles your fancy, or rather, Yankee Doodle Dandy, and the heck with the Holiday Police.
Speaking of holidays, it was still June - in fact, it was June 27 - when the Sunday paper arrived with its weekly batch of sale circulars for local and national retailers, so that we could all stock up and save, save, save. I couldn't help but notice the one from our friends at Home Depot, where they were slashing prices 50% on what they described as their "End-of-Season Savings" on patio furniture. Mind you, this wasn't even July yet, and at Home Depot, they've already closed the book on patio furniture. I suppose they might be having the same problem I am, where they keep getting Christmas catalogues in the mail, and have actually started to believe that it's time for silver bells and fa-la-la-la-la, so they wasted no time in giving their summer stock the old heave-ho-ho-ho. I guess if I want anything for Thanksgiving, I'd better hurry up and grab it while I can, or that will be the next thing to get the bum's rush out of here, and there won't be a pilgrim, acorn or cornucopia left standing by Labor Day, and that's not just a lot of cranberry sauce, believe me.
In other seasonal news, last weekend we had friends visit from upstate, and even though we all stayed overnight at the same hotel, it did not result in the Governor calling out the National Guard, so we considered this a successful get-together all around. It all began on Saturday, when we met at the lovely and scenic Renaissance Hotel along Route 287 in what they laughingly refer to as White Plains, which has about as much to do with White Plains as Benjamin Franklin has to do with The Olive Garden, which is to say, not much, and plenty of it. The hotel is nestled in a bucolic setting that belies its proximity to the highway, and its expansive and tranquil grounds are a tonic for the frazzled urban dweller who arrives for a stay. Our friends had made the reservations, and there was obviously some mix-up in the rooms, because it was our other friends who ended up in the room next to the elevators, ice maker and vending machines, while our room was all the way at the end of a quiet empty hallway, where about the noisiest thing was the sound of snoring coming out of our room, and I ought to know.
After we checked in, we joined our friends in the pub, where the sweet potato fries are locally famous, and justifiably so, although for anyone in a hurry, I feel obligated to warn you that they apparently have to grow the potatoes before they can serve them to you, so it's not the fastest meal you're ever going to have. The pub features a welter of big-screen TVs in abundance, each showing a different sporting event or news program, and each with its own audience or disinterested observers. There was apparently some hubbub about the World Cup while we were there, although since we don't follow soccer, we were a little bit out of our element, and yelling "face mask!" at inopportune moments in a misguided attempt to fit in, seemed to have the opposite effect altogether. In fact, it perhaps explained why they changed the set nearest us to an inter-league baseball game instead, with the Yankees and Dodgers, but even here, our chants of "Let's go Knicks!" did nothing to endear us to the other patrons. Finally they switched it to CNN, and when we started doing The Wave, it was obvious that the beleaguered bartender had all he could take, and started reaching for the phone. We've stayed there before, so we already know they have the National Guard on speed-dial, and we figured this was as good a time as any for us to be hitting the road for our next destination.
We already knew that the new Pier Restaurant & Tiki Bar had recently opened up at the historic Playland amusement park in Rye, and our friends wanted to try it, so we headed over there and ready for adventure. It turns out that the new restaurant is on the boardwalk near Rye Beach, where Captain Hook's used to be, on the other side of the ice rink and miniature golf, and not technically in the park at all. Unfortunately for the people who only want to go to the restaurant and not the park, you have to pay to park in the Playland lot anyway, even if you don't intend to set foot inside Playland itself the entire time. We wasted a lot of time looking for the place, as it was extremely hard to find, especially for a new attraction, and there were no signs for it, which would have been a helpful addition. It has an island-themed decor, that carries over to the menu choices, as befits its location on the idyllic shores of Long Island Sound. There is a large outdoor dining area right on the water, with thatched umbrellas lending a festive native vibe to the place. They also offer "dock-and-dine" service to people who arrive in their boats, which at least is one way to beat the cost of parking at the Playland lot, if nothing else. We elected to eat inside instead, and found it crowded and noisy, with a menu that was narrow in scope, and unaccommodating for people on special diets, as well as being wildly over-priced, even for the most ordinary appetizers like mozzarella sticks. They also feature live music, although not while we were there, which is just as well, because if the place got any noisier, it would have to be classified as an airport, and they'd have to hire air traffic controllers instead of waiters. In fact, it was so noisy that we couldn't even coordinate doing The Wave, and had to go outside where it was quieter, although they could have been running the Indy 500 outside, and it still would have been quieter, heaven knows.
We already had our "fun bands" for Playland, where you pay one price and you can go on all of the rides as much as you want, so we were all set. We were glad to revisit some old favorites, like the famous Grand Carousel, as well as Zombie Castle, Laff In The Dark, The Old Mill, The Dragon Coaster, and The Whip, which has probably been making people dizzy since the park first opened in 1928, and still in great shape to this day. We happened to find ourselves in the area near the stage when an energetic bunch of youngsters burst on the scene, featuring loud music and flashing lights, a magic show, acrobats, dancers, and even a fire eater, in a wide-ranging revue that was as entertaining as it was unexpected. Although we did a good job of resisting the cotton candy, we succumbed to the soft ice cream (I'll have mine with chocolate sprinkles, thank you) and since it was late and dark, we bid a fond farewell to Playland, and went on our way, tired but happy, back to the hotel.
Fortunately, it wasn't too late for the pool, which stays open at the Renaissance until 11:00 PM for your swimming pleasure, and we hurried over there to splash around and unwind from a long and busy day. Even better was a relaxing soak in their hot tub, and the pool staff was happy to let us stay and enjoy ourselves past the official closing time, although when we started doing The Wave, they threw in the towel and we had to call it a night. The hotel is renowned for its accommodations for special occasions, and there are always plenty of weddings, bar mitzvahs, anniversaries or reunions going on there, often all at once, every time we stay. This time it was our friends who were kept awake all night with the elevators, ice maker and vending machines, as the revelers were up carousing until all hours, while at the end of our deserted hallway, things were blissfully silent, except of course for those noisy people snoring, who looked suspiciously like us. In the morning, we hurried downstairs for their delectable buffet, and everything was
excellent as usual, and there's plenty of time to enjoy their wide variety of offerings, because at the Renaissance, you don't have to check out until 1:00 PM, which would be good news for the people in the pub still waiting around for their sweet potato fries. All in all, the whole experience was so delightful that we gave it a standing ovation, in fact several standing ovations - oh, all right, I admit that what we actually did was The Wave. And I'm pretty sure that the hotel management was just about ready to call out the National Guard when they saw us in our underwear dancing on top of the bus shelter, but luckily they couldn't tell it was us, because we were covered with whipped cream at the time.
Elle
Happy July! Sunday will be Independence Day, and I hope that you have one for the books, and by that I don't mean the kind that shows up in the Police Blotter section of the newspaper, where they round up a bunch of drunken revelers in their underwear, dancing on top of bus shelters and covered with whipped cream. No, I'm thinking of something more in keeping with the patriotic nature of the holiday, where you declare your independence from drudgery, claim the liberty of a hammock, and pursue the happiness of lemonade and watermelon. Or in the immortal words of Benjamin Franklin, "We must all hang together, or most assuredly, we shall all miss the all-you-can-eat holiday buffet at The Olive Garden, so let's get cracking, by jingo!" Hmmm, somehow that last part doesn't sound exactly right, but I happen to be of the opinion that July 4th is one of those holidays that there is no wrong way to celebrate, so get out there and do whatever tickles your fancy, or rather, Yankee Doodle Dandy, and the heck with the Holiday Police.
Speaking of holidays, it was still June - in fact, it was June 27 - when the Sunday paper arrived with its weekly batch of sale circulars for local and national retailers, so that we could all stock up and save, save, save. I couldn't help but notice the one from our friends at Home Depot, where they were slashing prices 50% on what they described as their "End-of-Season Savings" on patio furniture. Mind you, this wasn't even July yet, and at Home Depot, they've already closed the book on patio furniture. I suppose they might be having the same problem I am, where they keep getting Christmas catalogues in the mail, and have actually started to believe that it's time for silver bells and fa-la-la-la-la, so they wasted no time in giving their summer stock the old heave-ho-ho-ho. I guess if I want anything for Thanksgiving, I'd better hurry up and grab it while I can, or that will be the next thing to get the bum's rush out of here, and there won't be a pilgrim, acorn or cornucopia left standing by Labor Day, and that's not just a lot of cranberry sauce, believe me.
In other seasonal news, last weekend we had friends visit from upstate, and even though we all stayed overnight at the same hotel, it did not result in the Governor calling out the National Guard, so we considered this a successful get-together all around. It all began on Saturday, when we met at the lovely and scenic Renaissance Hotel along Route 287 in what they laughingly refer to as White Plains, which has about as much to do with White Plains as Benjamin Franklin has to do with The Olive Garden, which is to say, not much, and plenty of it. The hotel is nestled in a bucolic setting that belies its proximity to the highway, and its expansive and tranquil grounds are a tonic for the frazzled urban dweller who arrives for a stay. Our friends had made the reservations, and there was obviously some mix-up in the rooms, because it was our other friends who ended up in the room next to the elevators, ice maker and vending machines, while our room was all the way at the end of a quiet empty hallway, where about the noisiest thing was the sound of snoring coming out of our room, and I ought to know.
After we checked in, we joined our friends in the pub, where the sweet potato fries are locally famous, and justifiably so, although for anyone in a hurry, I feel obligated to warn you that they apparently have to grow the potatoes before they can serve them to you, so it's not the fastest meal you're ever going to have. The pub features a welter of big-screen TVs in abundance, each showing a different sporting event or news program, and each with its own audience or disinterested observers. There was apparently some hubbub about the World Cup while we were there, although since we don't follow soccer, we were a little bit out of our element, and yelling "face mask!" at inopportune moments in a misguided attempt to fit in, seemed to have the opposite effect altogether. In fact, it perhaps explained why they changed the set nearest us to an inter-league baseball game instead, with the Yankees and Dodgers, but even here, our chants of "Let's go Knicks!" did nothing to endear us to the other patrons. Finally they switched it to CNN, and when we started doing The Wave, it was obvious that the beleaguered bartender had all he could take, and started reaching for the phone. We've stayed there before, so we already know they have the National Guard on speed-dial, and we figured this was as good a time as any for us to be hitting the road for our next destination.
We already knew that the new Pier Restaurant & Tiki Bar had recently opened up at the historic Playland amusement park in Rye, and our friends wanted to try it, so we headed over there and ready for adventure. It turns out that the new restaurant is on the boardwalk near Rye Beach, where Captain Hook's used to be, on the other side of the ice rink and miniature golf, and not technically in the park at all. Unfortunately for the people who only want to go to the restaurant and not the park, you have to pay to park in the Playland lot anyway, even if you don't intend to set foot inside Playland itself the entire time. We wasted a lot of time looking for the place, as it was extremely hard to find, especially for a new attraction, and there were no signs for it, which would have been a helpful addition. It has an island-themed decor, that carries over to the menu choices, as befits its location on the idyllic shores of Long Island Sound. There is a large outdoor dining area right on the water, with thatched umbrellas lending a festive native vibe to the place. They also offer "dock-and-dine" service to people who arrive in their boats, which at least is one way to beat the cost of parking at the Playland lot, if nothing else. We elected to eat inside instead, and found it crowded and noisy, with a menu that was narrow in scope, and unaccommodating for people on special diets, as well as being wildly over-priced, even for the most ordinary appetizers like mozzarella sticks. They also feature live music, although not while we were there, which is just as well, because if the place got any noisier, it would have to be classified as an airport, and they'd have to hire air traffic controllers instead of waiters. In fact, it was so noisy that we couldn't even coordinate doing The Wave, and had to go outside where it was quieter, although they could have been running the Indy 500 outside, and it still would have been quieter, heaven knows.
We already had our "fun bands" for Playland, where you pay one price and you can go on all of the rides as much as you want, so we were all set. We were glad to revisit some old favorites, like the famous Grand Carousel, as well as Zombie Castle, Laff In The Dark, The Old Mill, The Dragon Coaster, and The Whip, which has probably been making people dizzy since the park first opened in 1928, and still in great shape to this day. We happened to find ourselves in the area near the stage when an energetic bunch of youngsters burst on the scene, featuring loud music and flashing lights, a magic show, acrobats, dancers, and even a fire eater, in a wide-ranging revue that was as entertaining as it was unexpected. Although we did a good job of resisting the cotton candy, we succumbed to the soft ice cream (I'll have mine with chocolate sprinkles, thank you) and since it was late and dark, we bid a fond farewell to Playland, and went on our way, tired but happy, back to the hotel.
Fortunately, it wasn't too late for the pool, which stays open at the Renaissance until 11:00 PM for your swimming pleasure, and we hurried over there to splash around and unwind from a long and busy day. Even better was a relaxing soak in their hot tub, and the pool staff was happy to let us stay and enjoy ourselves past the official closing time, although when we started doing The Wave, they threw in the towel and we had to call it a night. The hotel is renowned for its accommodations for special occasions, and there are always plenty of weddings, bar mitzvahs, anniversaries or reunions going on there, often all at once, every time we stay. This time it was our friends who were kept awake all night with the elevators, ice maker and vending machines, as the revelers were up carousing until all hours, while at the end of our deserted hallway, things were blissfully silent, except of course for those noisy people snoring, who looked suspiciously like us. In the morning, we hurried downstairs for their delectable buffet, and everything was
excellent as usual, and there's plenty of time to enjoy their wide variety of offerings, because at the Renaissance, you don't have to check out until 1:00 PM, which would be good news for the people in the pub still waiting around for their sweet potato fries. All in all, the whole experience was so delightful that we gave it a standing ovation, in fact several standing ovations - oh, all right, I admit that what we actually did was The Wave. And I'm pretty sure that the hotel management was just about ready to call out the National Guard when they saw us in our underwear dancing on top of the bus shelter, but luckily they couldn't tell it was us, because we were covered with whipped cream at the time.
Elle
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 7:36 PM
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