Under The Weather

Hello World,     This is normally where I would be saying something like, "What is so rare as a day in May?" and waxing poetic over the beautiful weather, with balmy breezes and glorious sunshine, and thanks ever so. Unfortunately, except for a couple of days here and there, this has seemed more like February around here, with damp and chilly weather, leaden skies, and gale force winds that turn a routine garbage day into an Olympic-worthy steeplechase event of sprinting after errant trash cans as they go skittering down the block, thanks not. Seriously, where is Usain Bolt when we need him?     Speaking of weather, I have always felt that The Almighty God exhibits a woeful indifference to the Indianapolis 500, and every Memorial Day weekend, the race cars could be out on the track in the balmiest sunshine, or the thickest fog, or crashing thunder and lightning with torrential rain, or hail the size of tennis balls, or raining frogs and plagues of locusts, or any of the other Biblical calamities of epic proportion, heaven knows. But I will say that His Infinite Mercy always seems to smile on the second Sunday in May, at least in terms of the weather, as if even Divine Providence wouldn't dare attempt anything so unpopular. Not so fast! We were upstate visiting our friends around Albany for the weekend, and it pretty much poured the entire time, so that anyone planning a Mothers Day picnic (or heaven forbid, miniature golf) would have been sorely disappointed, I can tell you that.) And when it comes to Mothers Day, anyone can tell you that the one thing to be avoided at all costs would be trying to take Dear Old Mom out to a restaurant for lunch or dinner, because it's an absolute madhouse out there, and impossible to get a seat anywhere, anytime, no matter how long you wait, and once again, thanks so very much not. Well, once again, and surprisingly enough, not so fast! We had no plans for Sunday, but happened to be in the neighborhood, so we threw caution to the wind and stopped at one of our favorite Denny's for lunch, and glad of it. We had no trouble getting a table, without even a wait, and the service was prompt and attentive as always. We had a wonderful meal, and no complaints, and certainly not the jam-packed horror show that we would have expected for the holiday. Even better, in honor of Mothers Day, the nice folks at Denny's were giving long-stemmed carnations to all of the ladies, mothers or not, which I thought was a nice touch. Our cats thought it was delicious. (Only kidding.)     Alert readers may recall that it was a couple of weeks ago when we hazarded a trip into New York City to enjoy the musical stylings of Caitlyn Canty at Rockwoods for her album release show - which turned out to have more than its usual share of ups and downs, but we still lived to tell the tale, in spite of it all. While we were upstate last weekend, we invited our friends to join us at the historic Troy Savings Bank Music Hall to see Caitlyn for themselves, where she was doing a short set opening up for folk singer Josh Ritter. The music hall has been entertaining the residents since way back in 1875 (probably Stephen Foster played there, I shouldn't wonder) and in fact, the old wooden seats still have handy attachments for holding top hats and evening gloves, and thanks ever so. It features a balcony and boxes, the only disadvantage of which would be the necessary support pillars to hold them up, and you can actually find yourself sitting behind a pole, which I would consider a quaint anachronism nowadays. Caitlyn's show, although very abbreviated, was well received by the substantial crowd, and we were glad our friends had a chance to experience it as well. It was over all too soon, and the headliner took the stage, where apparently he is a local favorite, based on the enthusiasm that greeted his appearance. His music was not exactly to our tastes, so we didn't stay for the entire show, which certainly made it much simpler to extricate ourselves from the minuscule parking lot, and navigate the constricted alleyways out of the area. From there, we set a course for The Century House in Latham, another historic site, which includes a charming hotel and separate restaurant, serving the public on this venerable property from 1790. Including probably Stephen Foster when he played at the Troy Savings Bank Music Hall with his minstrel show. (Please feel free to go right ahead and visit their web site at www.TheCenturyHouse.com and see for yourself.) We expected this out-of-the-way old place to be quiet, fusty, and maybe a bit rundown around the edges - not like giant modern chain hotels, lined up on the busiest and flashiest streets in town. But my, oh, my, and once again, not so fast! We got there late at night to find a large and rollicking wedding party in full swing, with hot-and-cold running guests enjoying themselves hugely in every corner of the hotel, restaurant, party tent, and even the parking lot - as if this was Miami Beach during Spring Break, and not the sleepy backwater of Latham, in the middle of nowhere. I have to believe that Stephen Foster didn't think much of it either, and that's not just whistling Dixie, by golly.     Well, you know that the summer movie blockbuster season is well underway when you discover that The Avengers are back in town, and nobody had to ask us twice to go see "Infinity War" at the IMAX in 3-D, I can tell you that. And this is no reflection on the movie, but this is the first time ever that we have gone to this theater, only to find that they had no individual pan pizzas, which was a major disappointment for us, believe me. We had a dish of pretzel bites with cheese (and also some of their new Cinnabon gooey bites) but it just wasn't the same thing at all. Phooey. Anyway, this latest flick seems to be over-stuffed with a cast of thousands, many of whom I don't even remember from previous offerings of this same franchise, although I'm pretty sure I've seen them all up to this point. You would think anything this over-populated and sprawling would be nothing but a colossal train wreck (I suppose "dogs breakfast" would be the technical term) and hopelessly sink under its own weight without hope of salvage. But I have to say, I loved it. It manages to be enormously entertaining and never lags - the time flies by in spectacular battle sequences and eye-popping excursions to weirdly exotic outlying planets. (I hate to think what it must have cost to create all of those elaborate, and frankly subordinate, sets. The mind reels.) The two-fisted film makers forcibly manhandled the runaway narrative somehow, kept it more cohesive than ever could have been imagined, and peppered it with a wealth of genuine laugh-out-loud moments that are usually sorely lacking in these sorts of comic book space operas, heaven knows. We welcomed back a spate of familiar faces, and introduced the always excellent Josh Brolin as the dastardly sinister villain, and the wonderful Peter Dinklage as a giant alien dwarf. (Giant dwarf, get it?!) Unfortunately, because it's part one of a continuing story (the second part will be released in 2019) it ends on a bit of a downer, with a considerable amount of casualties, even among the most major of the major characters. (Although it must be said that in the Marvel Studios universe, "dead" doesn't always mean "permanently dead," so the possibility remains that some or all of the victims may yet live to fight another day, as it were.) I have to admit that it lived up to the hype, and I'm really looking forward to the next one. Although I might suggest to Stephen Foster to bring his own pizza. Elle