Places to Go, People to See

This entry is going to be slightly different from those before. Instead of recounting a trip I have made in the past, I am going to highlight a few places I have yet to visit, yet desperately want to see.

When we visited Tennessee, we basically crisscrossed the state and saw attractions located in each corner, yet we missed a big one. Now when I say we missed a big one, I am referring to the 228.0 by 101.4 foot structure commemorating classical architecture that eluded our attention. We missed the Parthenon. I know what you are thinking, “The Parthenon, isn’t that the Greek Temple built for the goddess Athena?” Well, you are right, there is a Parthenon built in Greece, but its twin is located in the Volunteer State. More precisely, the Nashville Parthenon, a full-scale replica of the original Parthenon in Athena, was built in 1897 as part of the Tennessee Centennial Exposition. Today, the Parthenon, standing in Nashville’s Centennial Park, serves as an art museum.

Another stop we, regrettable, failed to make was in Tupelo, Mississippi. “What could this city have to offer?” you might ask. Well, it certainly isn’t the largest city in the state of Mississippi; it is in fact the eighth. I mean, Krusty the Clown, from The Simpsons, is credited with starting his career as a street mime in Tupelo, but that is rather insignificant. So what is the attraction of this place? Simply stated, royalty came from Tupelo, Mississippi. On January 8, 1935, in a two-room home constructed using merely $180, the King of Rock & Roll, Elvis Presley, was born.

Everyone loves the beach. But, as much as I like soaking up sun rays, that is not the reason I want to visit Nantucket Sound off of Cape Cod, Massachusetts. It is off Nantucket Sound that, in my opinion, one of the most beautiful sky-scapes can be seen. It is there that Cape Wind has established America’s first offshore wind farm, thereby speckling the sky with the rotating blades of wing turbines. A demonstration of clean, inexhaustible, responsible energy surely constitutes a stop I wish to make.

Even exploring a state as thoroughly as my family does, there is always more to see. Experience has shown me that it is not necessarily the attractions that tourism agencies push that are most memorable. Equally, if not exceedingly, entertaining and educational are those stops made when you accidentally take the wrong turn off the highway and wander aimlessly down that long, dirt road.

The Nashville Parthenon, located in Centennial Park (top)
Photo from:http://forum.belmont.edu/students/800px-Parthenon.at.Nashville.Tenenssee.01.jpg

Tupelo, Mississippi, home of Elvis Presley, is designated as a historic landmark (middle)
Photo from: http://www.destination360.com/north-america/us/mississippi/images/s/tupelo.jpg

Wind Turbines speckle the offshore coastline of Cape Cod (bottom)
Photo from: http://www.treehugger.com/cape-wind-power-farm-b1.jpg

Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn, and caldron bubble

An cinematic image capturing the drama of the courtroom during the Salem Witch Trails, located in Salem, Massachusetts

Photo from: http://www.vulcannonibird.de/noni/films/crucible/court.jpg

Witchcraft. It is a seemingly antiquated notion. The majority of people alive today do not believe in disembodied spirits, potions, and magical incantations. Yet, in the late 1600s, hysteria broke out in the Essex, Suffolk, and Middlesex counties of colonial Massachusetts. See, these people not only believed in the existence of witchcraft, they were horrified by it.

My trip to Salem, Massachusetts was eye-opening. Everyone is somewhat familiar with the story behind the legendary Salem Witch Trials. Essentially, what began as the hysterical, and probably attention-seeking, cries of teenagers evolved into the accusation and imprisonment of 180 townspeople – not to mention the execution, via hanging, of 19 villagers, and the pressing to death of an additional one. From an outsider’s perspective, it is difficult to understand how the nonsensical ranting of bored girls could turn into a large-scale witch-hunt. However, being immersed in the Puritan environment brings the society, driven by superstition and fear, to life once again.

I had the privilege of visiting Salem twice – once as part of a scheduled visit to Massachusetts, and another time as a trip specifically designed to investigate the historic city more thoroughly. See, I find the history behind Salem intriguing. In my opinion, it is unbelievable how far suspicious minds are willing and able to carry unfounded accusation. And Salem demonstrates this so well.

One of the predominate sources of information on the Salem Witch Trials is, appropriately, the Salem Witch Museum, located right at the heart of Salem, Massachusetts. What is so great about this museum is the sense of horror it invokes. As a visitor, you step back into historic Salem during that fateful year of 1692. Via life-size figures placed on stages with lighting and narration, you experience the Witch Trials of 1692. You witness the hysterical girls calling out the names of their victims. You sense the level of drama in the courtroom as an accused witch tries to defend him or herself again subjective evidence. You see the amount of havoc that a community wreaks upon itself.

What I find so fascinating about the history behind the Salem Witch Trials is how willing people are to believe the worse in one another. Equally interesting is how quickly a person will turn the finger on another, just to avoid being pointed at him or herself. I mean, honestly, the Puritan were so ridden with terror and distrust that they actually sent two dogs to death as the supposed accomplices of witches. As an exhibit at the Salem Witch Museum says, the equation for a witch-hunt is as follows: fear + trigger = scapegoat.

Tennessee Homesick Blues

Dolly Parton's mission statement for Dollywood
Photo from: http://reneeashleybaker.files.wordpress.com/2007/10/dolly-parton.jpg

New York City ain't no kind of place

For a country girl with a friendly face
If you smile people look at you funny
They take it wrong
The greenest state in the land of the free
And the home of the Grand Ole Opry
Is calling me back to my Smoky Mountain home
- “Tennessee Homesick Blues,” Dolly Parton

Dolly Parton’s roots cling strongly to the soil of the Smoky Mountains in Tennessee. Growing up in “dirt poor” conditions, Parton gained an appreciation for rustic living and country music. These early lessons contributed to making her the most successful female country artist in the history of the genre. And, being the philanthropist that she is, Dolly Parton made sure to give back to the community that raised her.

Dolly Parton has invested much of her earnings into business endeavors located in Pigeon Forge, in the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. Notably, in 1986, Dolly Parton became co-owner of the amusement park that she would later rename “Dollywood.” Dollywood, like any amusement park, features rides, but what makes this park different from others are the attractions. Dollywood pays tribute to country life, in the form of traditional crafts and music from the Smoky Mountains.

When we visited Dollywood, it was not for the roller coasters or water rides, it was predominantly for the shows and live performances. What makes this park really distinctive is the emphasis it places on music. Each year, Dollywood hosts musical performances from local artists, international famed musicians, and even Dolly Parton herself. While at the park, I was not lucky enough to see the place’s namesake herself, but I did see a performance by her family. I think it is wonderful that Dollywood, in a sense, remains a family business, yet appeals to a larger audience as well.

And music is not the only item of interest at Dollywood, there are also artesian demonstrations and a memorandum museum. Every day at the park, there are displays put on by glass blowers, wagon makers, candle crafters, woodcarvers, etc. These presentations appealed to me because they are seemingly outdated crafts, yet, one will soon realize, they require an exceptional level of dexterity and talent. It is impressive. Also on the premises is “Rags to Riches: The Dolly Parton Story.” This museum features articles, photographs, awards, and keepsakes from Dolly Parton’s life and career. Walking through the showroom, I was flabbergasting by the transformation this small-town southern girl had gone through in order to arrive at the level of stardom that she currently assumes. It is a true under-dog story.

My visit to Dollywood provided me with a greater appreciation for life in the Smoky Mountains. Dolly Parton’s amusement park helps me understand the sentiment behind her singing, “Good Lord have mercy on a country girl, tryin' to make a living in a rhinestone world. It's hard to be a diamond in a rhinestone world, with Tennessee homesick blues runnin' through my head.”

Venice-in-America, in Indiana?

“For You From Me,” Jon McLaughlin

Music video from Indiana native, Jon McLaughlin, paying tribute to Indiana as a whole, with specific footage from the Indiana State Museum and The Canal and White River State Park

On our way to the Indiana State Museum I was busy recounting the number of state museums we had previously visited. There was the New York State Museum with its long houses and woolly mammoth. Also there was the Alabama State Museum with all its natural history relics. Then there was the Massachusetts State Museum that satisfied every scientific curiosity. Having visited all these museums, I was unsure what another trip to a museum could provide me. Would it simply play tribute to the state’s agriculture? What would make this museum any different from the rest? Well, the answer resided not necessarily in what was inside the museum, but rather what was outside of it.

The State Museum of Indiana is located in the bustling hubbub of Indianapolis. (I know, I too was surprised that, amongst the sea of grain that is Indiana, there happens to be a city.) And yes, the museum is nice. It pays its respects to the Native Americans that lived on the land. It details the state’s specific history. It includes energy and sustainability displays and interactive exhibits. But what is truly captivating is the Canal and White River State Park that encompasses the museum.

The Canal and White River State Park have been a work-in-progress for approximately two decades. It is honestly what I would envision as a Venice-in-America. The Park follows the winding path of a canal, a canal speckled with pedal boats being operated by eager participants. And yes, there have even been gondolas placed on the canal that offer rides to patrons. Flanking the waterway are sidewalks that feature not only tandem bikes, but also four-seater canopy bicycles. Further outward there are shaded benches, flowers flowing over latticework, and sweeping green lawns.

I had such an extraordinary time in Indianapolis that day. Following our visit to the museum, we simply had a leisurely, lazy afternoon. My parents and I munched on lunch while lounging outside on a terrace, one that provided a gorgeous view of the city skyline. We then ambled along the pathway and waved cheerfully to the other visitors enjoyed their springtime activities. When it got warm we reclined under the covered benches and took a break from the sunlight. We stayed at the park until nightfall, when it started to get chilly and the nighttime insects began buzzing around us. Even then, we were reluctant to leave.

Art of Play

Interactive footage from "Niki in the Garden" exhibit in Chicago's Garfield Park

In an effort to tailor our vacations more to each family member’s interests, my mom asked us all to look at brochures featuring Chicago attractions. Flipping through the pages of about a dozen pamphlets, the item that caught my attention featured shiny objects and bright colors. I cast my vote and insisted we visit the seasonal outdoor art display, “Niki in the Garden.”

“Niki in the Garden” was a roaming outdoor art display that, in the summer of 2007, was being featured in Chicago’s Garfield Park. In order to arrive at the park, we took the Green Line to Central Park Avenue. I was hesitant about stepping off the train, because what greeted us on the other side of the door was lurking shadows and what could only be described as a sketchy rail stop. However, we continued onward towards the Conservatory, the start of the art display.

After each paying our $5 suggested entry donation, we began to stroll through the conservatory. What was neat about “Niki in the Garden” was that the sculptures were intertwined between plants, ferns, trees, and flowers of botanical significance. Also, as part of the “Art of Play” series, visitors were encouraged to touch and interact with the pieces. Given the shear scale of the sculptures, as well as the subject matter, I found that children and adults alike enjoyed this privilege.

The sculptures I saw that day were, without a doubt, some of the most bizarre art forms I have seen, and this is the opinion of someone who was schooled in odd classical art like Dying Gaul. I mean, picture this: the tallest sculpture was 18 feet tall, and the longest piece stretched 25 feet. The sculptures encompassed gigantic totem poles, iconic sports figures, neon skulls, etc. Oh, and for the kicker, the artist’s topic of choice was voluptuous women with bodacious bodies.

“Nanas,” a French term standing for “babes” or “chicks,” decorated the landscape at every turn. These curvy women were sculpted in angelic poses and always displayed technicolored bosoms with mix-matched patterns and uneven sizing. Upon seeing these “Nanas,” I was convinced that the artist was yet another male sculptor with a seemingly unhealthy fetish. Well, turns out I was wrong in every aspect of that generalization.

The artist was actually French-American painter and sculptor, Niki de Saint Phalle. The artist was a woman. An ex-fashion model, as it turns out. That insight caused me to eat my words about the “Nanas” being the renderings of a chauvinistic, male mind. It turns about that these portrayals of women were actually Niki de Saint Phalle’s way of expressing the archetypical role women in society. Quite the opposite.

My stay at Garfield Park was so enjoyable because it was so different. Something about strolling through a city park on a gorgeous summer day, all while looking at art, just appealed to me. It was casual, it was unique, and it was most definitely entertaining.

Island in the Stream, or rather River

The ferry ride to Block Island, lasting less than an hour, made me queasy. I have even been known to express “sea-sickness” while traveling though the lock system on the Eric Canal. So, in no way, was I excited to embark upon a 135-minute boat tour of the Thousand Islands, straddling the United States-Canada border. I mean, the name itself indicated a certain level of redundancy – certainly the first hundred islands would give me a good enough impression of the place that I could get off the boat and back on solid ground.

As stated in its title, the Thousand Islands is an archipelago of islands, numbering over 1,793. The archipelago stretches between New York and Ontario, along the Saint Lawrence River. The included islands vary greatly in size, maxing out around 40 square miles, and in their level of inhabitance.

Do to the shear number of land outcropping located in the Saint Lawrence River, certain guidelines have been set up to determine which landforms count as “islands.” As a general rule, to be considered an island, the piece of land has to be above water level for the entire year, have an area larger than one square foot, and play host to at least one living tree. This criterion offerssome basic similarities between the islands, but aside from this, they differ greatly.

For example, on Heart Island there is the Boldt Castle. This 120-rooom grandiose gift that was commissioned to be built by millionaire George C Boldt out of love for his wife, Louise. However, during construction, Louise died and George ceased all construction. It was not until 73 years later when the Thousand Islands Bridge Authority acquired the property that restorations were made. And, as for a little tidbit of information, is was Boldt’s personal chef that invented what was later to be known as Thousand Island dressing.

The island closest to Boldt Castle is “Just Room Enough.”

This island, as the name would imply, is merely large enough to fit a single house. However, when water levels are low enough, the house is also embellished with a few outdoor lounge chairs.

Another point of interest along the tour is the Zavikon Island. This stop is actually a pairing of islands. As the amusing antidotal story goes, the bigger island in located in Canada and the smaller one in the United States. Supposedly, when the husband was “in the doghouse,” the wife would send her spouse to another country via the “shortest international bridge in the world.” Unfortunately, both islands are actually located in Canadian territory and belong to the Leeds and Grenville municipal unit. Yet the story remains amusing.

The Thousand Island boat tour I partook in was infused with so much information and humorous history that I forgot about the fact that I was on a boat. Plus, as it turns out, the Saint Lawrence River isn’t exactly turbid water, so sea-legs really aren’t a necessity. This should be a relief to anyone like me who didn’t inherit the nautical gene.

Heart Island, home of the Boldt Castle (top)

Photo from:http://www.andrewcusack.com/bolc1.jpg

One of the Thousand Islands with "Just Room Enough" for a single house (middle)

Photo from: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/6f/Thousand_Islands_single_house.jpg

Contrary to legend, these islands do not span the international border (bottom)

Photo from: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/a/a8/ZavikonIslandBridge.jpg

Myst-ifying Experience

One of the most impressive, forgive the pun, places I have visited is Niagara Falls. For lack of a better description, the Falls are just awe-inspiring. I vividly recall my reaction upon initially seeing them. It was, “Wow!”

Now Niagara Falls is such a grandiose attraction that it actually straddles the international border between the Canadian province of Ontario and the U.S. state of New York. Even though I have been a native New Yorker for the greater part of my life, I had never seen Niagara Falls prior to about three or four years ago when I made this trip. And, at that rate, I had never been out-of-country before making the hop, skip, jump over the border to see the Falls from the Canadian point-of-view.

One of the attractions we participated in was the Maid of the Mist boat ride, named after an ancient Ongiara Indian mythical character that carried passengers into the whirlpools underneath the Falls since 1846. Now, I thought the directors of the ride were just being overly precautions when they advised all riders to “Hang on to your hats and small children.” Well, they weren’t. Before we even reached the turn-around place at the bottom of the waterfalls, I counted at least six caps that went flying off. Luckily though, no children were carried away. But those crashing waves certainly are powerful, which, as it turns out, is what makes them such prime candidates for the generation of hydroelectricity.

Another truly breathtaking event that is held at Niagara Falls is the nigh lightshow. Once the sun has set and it is dark enough for the lighthouses to begin operation, the show starts. For approximately 30 minutes, different colors bathe the Falls in a rainbow array. It blew my mind that such a simple illumination show could be so captivating. Yet it was. Without an ounce of shame, I made myself the “stereotypical tourist.” I whipped out my camera and took so many pictures, in rapid succession, that a flip book or film strip could be made from the negatives. It was just so beautiful that I wanted to record its grandeur. And that I did.

Panoramic view of Niagara Falls from the Canadian side (top)
Photo from: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/55/NiagaraFallsPanorama.jpg

Maid of the Mist Boat ride below the Falls (bottom)
Photo from: http://z.about.com/d/gocanada/1/0/y/2/-/-/Maid_of_the_Mist_courtesy_embassysuites.JPG