the Diva Platform

We had to make a quick trip to Pittsburgh this week to attend the funeral of Sir’s dad.  It was a little unexpected, but we were glad we went (and if you need a guy to do a eulogy, I might be able to get one.  Sir’s younger brother did an amazing job and was incredibly cool and collected throughout the speech.  Heck, he even improvised–the priest almost forgot the eulogy, and the brother said he’d hoped divine intervention was playing a role).

I also got to check something off my master “to do” list:  Visit a Giant Eagle.

I’d heard of Giant Eagle grocery stores before, and really, they’re just another grocery chain, with “Giant Eagle” instead of “Jewel” plastered on the Peanuts fruit snacks.  But they’re in Pittsburgh, and I’m not, so visit them, I had to.

I didn’t even think about it until we were on the road, and then I had one of those “a ha moments.”  ”Giant Eagle!  Can we go to Giant Eagle while we’re there.”

The Boy was nice enough to humor me.  ”If we have time and can find one,” he said.

Oh, we found two!

I wandered the aisles, looking at all the East Coast brands that we don’t get in Chicago:  Heluva Good cheese (which apparently is in Illinois–I just don’t buy enough cheese to notice it).  Tastykakes.  Pittsburgh Pretzels.  Herr’s chips.  I loved how the pierogi was enough of a food group to make it on the aisle label, e.g.–Aisle 7: (frozen foods) Entrees, French fries, Pierogies, Pizza, Sweet Goods.  Perhaps they were arranged alphabetically, but I’d like to think that pierogies were a better seller than pizza, therefore getting a better billing on the sign.

I was curious as to why beer wasn’t sold there, and Pennsylvania seems to have some wacky alcohol laws that we didn’t have time to get explained to us.  We wanted to find Three Stooges beer.  We went to a Giant Eagle that advertised “wine and spirits,” thinking that beer was included.  Apparently, to buy beer in Pittsburgh, you need to either go to a bar, or you go to a “beer distributor,” (i.e.–beer store).  We went to the latter and discovered that the distributor only sells cases.  Thank goodness for variety packs!  They didn’t have the Three Stooges, but we did get some microbrew, which we’re looking forward to trying.

Now we have a little bit of Pittsburgh in our house, and it’s kind of nice.  The Tastykakes aren’t horrible, the pretzels are good, and I understand the Giant Eagle just a little bit more.

So WFTDA North Central Regionals are over.  Windy City won.  I, to paraphrase referee Ana Bender, operated the shit out of the scoreboard.  And I had a great time.  The odd thing was that for once I went to a conference-type thing, and didn’t feel the need to duck out of the show.  Don’t get me wrong, I did duck out a couple of times when I wasn’t working because I wanted to make sure I saw a teeny bit of St. Paul, even if it was only a few square blocks.  I did so in the same way I’ve had to learn to stop eating when I’m no longer hungry.

At any rate, I’ve got work to finish up for today, some sleep to catch up on, and a tournament to ponder.  I’ll have more tomorrow–including a great candy store, a word about socks, whether or not Minnesota is just for Lutherans, and what it’s like to order a breakfast, only to have about a half-dozen eggs, four pieces of sausage, four pieces of bacon, a huge hunk of hash browns, and a basket of toast set in front of you.  Denny’s Grand Slam had nothing on this.

So while I digest this all, tell me something from your last vacation or business trip, or where we should go next.

The suburban excitement isn’t over yet, folks!  On Friday, the Boy and I trekked to Joliet to see Phil Keoghan, host of my favorite show “The Amazing Race,” who made an appearance at Harrah’s Joliet casino while he was on his bike ride across America. You might ask why we rented a car and drove the 50 miles each way just to see Phil, when he was going to be just a couple miles away the next morning, but I had Dark Lord Day and didn’t want to try to cram in too much (I seriously thought about it but hadn’t gotten much sleep on Thursday night.  Friday wiped me out from this trip and the trip to the German party, and although I woke up early on Saturday morning intending to ride bikes with Phil, I felt a little sick at that point and decided that another couple hours of sleep would mean a happier Jill for the rest of the day.  I was right).  Oh, and there were auditions for the next season of the show too.

I’d love to be on “The Amazing Race.”  I love to travel, I love the excitement of this show, I’d love all the new experiences.  So, after some discussion and a long time writing up the application, we went down to Joliet.  Auditions were from 10-2.  The Boy didn’t think we needed to be there especially early–we could wait in line and be fine.  I figured there’d be a bunch of people, but it was Friday, and the audition was announced fairly quickly.  How many people could show up?

Apparently a lot.  We got there pretty much at 10 AM and found out all the slots were taken (they could only fit in so many auditionees during the allotted time, a fact that wasn’t mentioned).  They were gone so quickly because people had started lining up at 9 PM the night before.  All the spots were gone by 3:30 AM. We were a bit flabbergasted, but oh, well.  We were still there, so we might as well make the best of it.

We hung out and watched all the couples around us.  People in combat gear, Moms with homemade sashes that declared them “Brownie Buddies,” folks in matching Cubs t-shirts and pajama pants (Sox fans were there too).  Apparently a team from “The Biggest Loser” showed up to audition as well, but I don’t watch that show, so that didn’t really resonate with me (I’d be curious to see if a team from an NBC show can get on a CBS show though).

Phil Keoghan did indeed come out and say hello to everyone.  He pimped his bike ride and his NOW One Square Meal bars (not bad, but a bit bland–they come in packs of two bars.  You’re supposed to eat both, but you get pretty full after just one).  He looked good and was pleasant in that “yes, I’m well-known and will be nice and everything, but don’t fool yourself into thinking we’re going to be buddies after this one chance meeting” way, which I always find impressive.

Hey, Phil!

Phil was only around a few minutes, so once he left, we were done too.  We wandered around the casino for a little bit–it actually has a fairly small gaming floor, with a lot of slot machines, including “Village People Party” and “Dean Martin’s Wild Party”–though the people tethered to the machines didn’t look like wild partiers.  Another machine was called “Lucky Lemmings.”  Oh, the irony.

I thought it was interesting that the Race had auditions in a casino.  After all, the Race is all about adventure and exploration, and when you went into the gaming area you saw mostly senior citizens with canes, in wheelchairs, or dragging oxygen tanks alongside them.  They didn’t look much like adventurers, unless by “adventure” you mean “try the next slot machine over.”

After our spin through the casino, we nosed around for lunch and ended up at The Department, a pretty nice place in downtown Joliet (motto:  “If it’s fun, it’s in Downtown Joliet!”) that’s dedicated to police officers and firepeople.  Then we wandered over to the Joliet Area Historical Museum, which for being a little city museum, is put together really nicely.  They’ve got a bunch of cool artifacts from the past (but then, I like looking at old clothes and kitchen gadgets), and the look of the place is really professional.

Our last stop was the jail where “Prison Break” was filmed (we don’t watch the show, but I got confused between this prison and the one where “The Blues Brothers” was filmed.  I don’t know many places where that would be a problem).  We marvelled at the barbed wire and warning signs around the building, and then we piled in the car and headed back to Chicago.

Impressive barbed wire

State your business.

So even though we didn’t get the adventure we’d anticipated, we had an adventure of a different sort, and one that we really enjoyed.

Mama sent me this story a while back because this is my kind of guy:  Whenever he travels, he goes to the local grocery store because he likes to be able to get some local foods.  On any given day, I do like going to the grocery.  On vacation, it’s on my “absolutely must do” list for a number of reasons:

1. I like seeing how other people live.  Part of this stems from often wondering, “Am I doing life right?”, but it’s also good to know these things for writing reasons–should I want to set a story in Florida, I’m familiar with Publix.  Germany?  Kaufhof and HL Markt and Aldi.  Austria?  Spar, Billa, and Hofer (which is Aldi).  Japan?  Valor.  You get the picture.  I also like going to the movies for that reason.  It’s fun to suddenly have to find an assigned seat or discover that the popcorn is sweet and not salty.
2. I’ve traveled enough to have picked up some favorite foods that I can’t get at home (or can’t get at home without a lot of effort/cash….honestly, I love a Ritter Sport, but they’re about $3 here.  In Germany–well, when I lived there, they were like 50 cents, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were about a buck now.  I can’t bring myself to pay the massive difference very often unless it’s a major treat).  I like getting to buy them when I’m on the road.
3. I like to acquire new favorite foods.  The scale will confirm that.

And this habit of going to the grocery has allowed me to find some cool things.  When we shopped at the ABC in Hawaii, we got introduced to a number of Japanese products, which we could then shop for in Japan (Mmmm…Pocari Sweat!)

I haven’t really told this to the Boy, but I’d like to travel some places solely to go to the grocery store.  This is thanks to being a researcher for a long time.  A consultant asked to research a product or store, so I became massively interested in it for whatever length of time I was doing the research (Mama, who also did research, had the same thing.  When I saw an Eatzi’s opening up in my neighborhood, it warranted an immediate call to her because we’d both researched the place and were fascinated by the concept.  Pocari Sweat’s actually another example of this because I researched stevia, which at the time wasn’t available in the U.S.  Pocari Sweat’s sweetened with stevia.).

If the place isn’t near me and sounds intriguing, it gets on my list of places to go.  I was bummed that we hit California last year at holiday time because I didn’t get the chance to go to a Fresh & Easy, Tesco’s entry into the U.S. market.  I’m dying to go to a Wawa (a large convenience store), a dream I also feel stupid about because I’m sure people who go to Wawa every day don’t think it’s anything special.  Likewise Wegman’s.  And if I get anywhere near Fairfield, OH, I’m going to need a few hours to peruse the aisles of Jungle Jim’s. Look at that place!  They’ve got an Amish products section (including ostrich eggs, when available).  They have something called the Aisle of Inferno!  Award-winning bathrooms!  It even has its own monorail, for cryin’ out loud!  I think Trader Joe’s is a little slice of heaven; Jungle Jim’s is probably something beyond my wildest dreams.

Maybe it’s a silly way to think, but I honestly think that going to the grocery store is one of the easiest ways to expand your world.  Even in the Jewel I’ll find unusual products that are worth trying.  But since our travel budget isn’t getting us far anytime soon, I think I’ll be spending more time exploring the ethnic grocery stores in our city.  There’s Greek, Mexican, Indian, Polish and all kinds of other Asian places that have so many foods to try.  Flavors to explore.  Cultures to learn.