Monday, 14 September 2009 05:35 pm
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deckardcanineI left my office around noon on Friday to join the early start on a family vacation to Berkeley Springs. Despite DC's proximity to West Virginia, I was too young on my last visit to remember it. About time I returned, eh?
Mom made reservations back in July to add to Dad's July 29 birthday celebration. Oddly enough, the soonest she could reserve was the weekend of my sister's birthday, so it was a dual celebration. (Mom's birthday is actually the closest to hers.)
On Friday night, we went to a single-screen theater which, on one hand, seemed decades overdue for renovation and, on the other hand, cost only $3.75 per adult viewer. The feature: Julie and Julia. I went in expecting little better than food porn. Midway thru, I could apply a Julia Child line to the movie itself: "Pretty good! ...but not great." By the end, it had achieved greatness in my estimation, far outstripping other Nora Ephron films I'd seen. I don't share the perspective of the WP critic who saw two movies clashing in one; it all felt similar enough to me. And while he may find Julie Powell annoying, I belong to her generation and relate pretty well. This is the second time I've found Amy Adams cute, a trait I rarely find in grown actresses after Audrey Hepburn.
So what did we do that we couldn't in DC? A certain nature hike followed by Roman baths and massages. I opted out of the massage due to touch sensitivity, but I enjoyed the bath more than any of us thought I would, taking half an hour.
While waiting for the others to finish, I browsed the Antiques Mall. My favorite items were '80s kitsch, like a Peewee Herman Viewmaster disc and a drinking glass that seemed unintentionally to show a Smurf smiling at a view under the back of Smurfette's dress. The one item I bought was actually not so old: a tiny Irish blessings book from 1999. Ironically, the book I had in my pocket, a Gulliver's Travels edition from my grandmother's house, would have been far more appropriate for those shelves. Maybe I should have parted with it there.
Our Friday night restaurant was loaded with Catholic accessories at every turn; a church could envy it. Our Saturday night restaurant had a wall with lots of mirrors. Something tells me the town fears vampires.
One thing I forgot to mention from the previous vacation: I once read a suggestion to say "Thursday" instead of "Cheese" for a more natural-looking camera smile. It occurred to me that any word ending with "-ay" would do the trick, particularly one that makes you feel like smiling, so I suggested "Friday" instead. (It rolls off the tongue better, too.) Then Mom did me one better: "Payday!" Let's remember for future vacations.
Mom made reservations back in July to add to Dad's July 29 birthday celebration. Oddly enough, the soonest she could reserve was the weekend of my sister's birthday, so it was a dual celebration. (Mom's birthday is actually the closest to hers.)
On Friday night, we went to a single-screen theater which, on one hand, seemed decades overdue for renovation and, on the other hand, cost only $3.75 per adult viewer. The feature: Julie and Julia. I went in expecting little better than food porn. Midway thru, I could apply a Julia Child line to the movie itself: "Pretty good! ...but not great." By the end, it had achieved greatness in my estimation, far outstripping other Nora Ephron films I'd seen. I don't share the perspective of the WP critic who saw two movies clashing in one; it all felt similar enough to me. And while he may find Julie Powell annoying, I belong to her generation and relate pretty well. This is the second time I've found Amy Adams cute, a trait I rarely find in grown actresses after Audrey Hepburn.
So what did we do that we couldn't in DC? A certain nature hike followed by Roman baths and massages. I opted out of the massage due to touch sensitivity, but I enjoyed the bath more than any of us thought I would, taking half an hour.
While waiting for the others to finish, I browsed the Antiques Mall. My favorite items were '80s kitsch, like a Peewee Herman Viewmaster disc and a drinking glass that seemed unintentionally to show a Smurf smiling at a view under the back of Smurfette's dress. The one item I bought was actually not so old: a tiny Irish blessings book from 1999. Ironically, the book I had in my pocket, a Gulliver's Travels edition from my grandmother's house, would have been far more appropriate for those shelves. Maybe I should have parted with it there.
Our Friday night restaurant was loaded with Catholic accessories at every turn; a church could envy it. Our Saturday night restaurant had a wall with lots of mirrors. Something tells me the town fears vampires.
One thing I forgot to mention from the previous vacation: I once read a suggestion to say "Thursday" instead of "Cheese" for a more natural-looking camera smile. It occurred to me that any word ending with "-ay" would do the trick, particularly one that makes you feel like smiling, so I suggested "Friday" instead. (It rolls off the tongue better, too.) Then Mom did me one better: "Payday!" Let's remember for future vacations.
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