A Grain of Salt

Recreational Vehicles

So, I just booked an RV for an upcoming trip to Alaska, and it's making me freak out a little bit. (Bonnie Sue, yes, Alaska. I have to ask you for suggestions.) Because here's the thing: I don't like driving *regular* vehicles. The concept of navigating a 24-foot vehicle -- a vehicle large enough to include a bed and toilet and still have room for a flat screen television -- sounds absolutely terrifying to me.

I'm wondering if anyone has suggestions on this. I mean, on the one hand, I think it sounds fun -- the rental fee includes fishing poles, for god's sakes. Where in New York would a rental car include fishing poles? But on the other hand, I am imagining myself trying to navigate down narrow Alaskan highways on roads crammed with other people who also do not know how to drive RVs, and I am a little scared.

The other thing I have realized, in this Alaska planning, is that visiting Alaska in July is like going up to someone and handing them your wallet and pin number. They *hose* you. This RV rental company had an ad on its website saying that if you booked now, you could get a 25% discount on July, and a 50% discount on May, June, August and September. Sounds great, right? But can you really call something a "50% discount" if it's offered for nearly half the year? Because here's the thing: Very few tourists come to Alaska in January and ask to rent an RV (freezing weather! snow! four hours of daylight! let's go!). So it doesn't make any sense for the January rate to actually be higher than the July rate.

By my logic, this means that the "normal" January rate is just a hypothetical charge -- like, if some idiot wanted to rent an RV to tour Alaska in February, more power to him -- he'd just have to pay the RV equivalent of a "stupidity tax." Traveling to Alaska in July, on the other hand, represents a different type of stupidity -- I've decided that tourism in July has replaced whale blubber as a way that Alaskans protect themselves against winter starvation.

Anyway, my real point is this: RVs are, by their very nature, somewhat ridiculous creations that I also find quite scary. And yet, for some reason ("adventure"? the inherent hilarity of me in a recreational vehicle?) I just booked one. Stay tuned.

This is the blog for Salt Magazine.

Jolly Olde

I, Editor Perelson, am esconced in the autumnal tumult of England for the next week. Beautiful weather here with the exception of the extra-ordinary (note the en dash!) torrential downpour. My jetlag has been lagging for longer than usual. Speaking of doing things alone, I went to see a new movie about Peter Sellars starring Geoffrey Rush. In England people seem to relish the solitude so I had plenty of other people around me watching this movie alone. If only one of them would have allowed me to cry on his/her shoulder- the film is terrible! bless your heart and the children, Gene

Snuggling Up to Snug Harbor

Catherine here. I have been mocked, especially as of late, by people who question my status as a "real" New Yorker. Questions like, "If you're really from here, how do you not know all of the cool bars on the Lower East Side?" (answer: I was underage) and "Where can I get brunch in Williamsburg?" (answer: why would I want to?) annoy me. These questions are asked by the same kind of people who call Hell's Kitchen "Clinton" and don't see a problem with referring to Boerum Hill, Cobble Hill and Carroll Gardens by the nickname, "BoCoCa."

I grew up on the Upper West Side. Ask me about that knowledge. Where's Citarella? What's the price differential between Zabar's and Fairway? What used to be on 67th Street and Columbus Avenue before the Lowes Multiplex was built? (Answer: The studio for "All My Children.")

But certain things do embarrass me about my NYC background (not counting the fact that, until I was 16 years old, I didn't know where Brooklyn is). I'll confess: I'd never really been to Staten Island. I've taken the ferry, sure (and back when it cost 50 cents, too!) but I'd never gotten beyond the terminal before turning back around.

That is, until today. Together with a friend from high school (another native New Yorker who, incidentally, didn't recognize Ellis Island), I went to the Snug Harbor Cultural Center. Located a quick 10 minute ride away from the ferry terminal on the S40 bus, the Snug Harbor Cultural Center is a former sailors' retirement home that's been turned into a public park. I'd been lured to it by boasts on its website that it was a beautiful open space with a theater and a Chinese Scholars Garden (not to mention the Staten Island Botanical Gardens) and was a bit disappointed to find mainly run-down-looking buildings, with an entrance overlooking some sort of refinery.

However, with that said, it's a fun and easy jaunt out of the city, with a great ride on the ferry. And there are other good things, too, such as:

-ample picnicking opportunities
-a pretty outdoor cafe
-lemon-sage scented soap and handcream in one of the cleanest public bathrooms I've been in in the city
-few enough visitors that, if you really wanted to dress up in period costume and pretend that you were a retired sailor, probably no one would notice

For more information, check out:
http://www.snug-harbor.org/main2.html