“There’s only four ways to get unraveled; one is to sleep and the other is travel.”---Jim Morrison
The Ballad Of Hubcap Man
Every mornin’ at six, you could see him arrive, he stood five-foot-six and weighed one-forty-five. Kinda close at the shoulder and narrow at the hip, and everybody knew ya didn’t give no lip to the Man….Hubcap Man.
Noone seemed to know where The Man called home, he just drifted into town and stayed all alone. He didn’t say much, kinda quiet and shy, and if you spoke at all, you just said hi to The Man….Hubcap Man.
Siobhan and Bill---but mostly Siobhan---ran across Hubcap Man at the entrance to the Hampton Inn Gateway, just a skip and a jump from the Orlando airport, at the beginning of their annual Summer vacation. As omens go, Hubcap Man was not a rainbow on our horizon. Bill dropped Siobhan off at the hotel entrance so she could leave her everyday shoes in the car, one less pair to carry, while he drove around back to park. The swarthy stranger, hubcap firmly ensconced under his arm, saw an opportunity. He sidled up to her, pumped his eyebrows up and down a few times and muttered something Siobhan couldn’t make out. He backed off, arched one eyebrow to the firmament and approached again. “Do you want to have SEX?” he asked casually, as if he was inquiring about the weather in Chicago. “NO!!!” she exclaimed, “What’s the matter with you?!?” Hubcap Man looked down at her feet, perhaps by way of explanation. “You don’t have any shoes on,” he observed, archly.
So if ya see him comin’, better step aside. A lotta girls didn’t and a lotta girls cried. One cap of aluminum, another of steel---if the right one don’t getcha then the left one will….he’s The Man….Hubcap Man.
Bill, Siobhan and Marty Jourard at Pike’s Place Market and the Seattle waterfront. Deadly duo at The Pink Door. Siobhan investigates health food superstore at PPM.
We’re Off To The Coxville Zoo
Undeterred by madmen carrying automotive gear, Bill and Siobhan embarked for Seattle on a shining Thursday morning. The Fates were kind and United Airlines deposited us in the Emerald City a few minutes early, barely past one p.m. with the three-hour time zone bonanza. Trying a new tack, we deferred renting a vehicle until it was time to leave town. Virtually all West Coast hotels of any stature now charge daily parking fees and most progressive cities have super public transportation, not to mention Uber and Lyft. And then, of course, there’s walking. Ever hear of it? This phenomenon is gaining adherents in several western outposts.
We met Gainesville expat Marty Jourard at the Pike Place Market, perhaps Seattle’s main claim to fame with the greying of the Space Needle. I have no experience with the unending Grand Bazaar of Istanbul or Bangkok’s vast Chatuchak market, but this place tops anything in the USA for size and variety of offerings. Looking for a pig’s head? How about some octopi? Candied piroshky? We got it. The selection of fresh fish and produce is enormous, and then there’s the block-long flower market. Many booths are permanent, local artisans vie for space in other areas by filling out craft market waitlist applications. Some artists get one day a week, others more, thus the market is ever-changing. And where else can you get your picture taken riding a brass pig?
Despite his Southern predilections, Marty Jourard is a full-fledged Seattleite, a fan of the city’s gestalt and spirit, a devotee of the local music scene, a celebrant of its gustatory delights. He steered us through small streets and back alleys, dipping in to a jazz club here, an acoustic bar there, showing off his town. Marty still plays a few dates each year with the revived Motels, his band of yesteryear, an opportunity open to but a tiny selection of semi-geezers. He took us to eat at Etta’s, where the waiter was so entranced with his Martiness he brought Bill the wrong meal. “This happens all the time,” averred Jourard. It’s actually embarrassing.” Once a prima donna, always a prima donna. Etta’s was otherwise outstanding.
Early mornings in Seattle were reserved for breakfast trips to La Panier, a bakery sans coffee spot across from the market and only a couple of blocks from our hotel. The pastry and atmosphere there was enough to divert us from the alleged “original Starbuck’s” just down the street. The shorter lines at the former didn’t hurt, either.
On our first full day in town, we visited the requisite tourist sites. We were early to the 605-foot Space Needle, avoiding lines, and zipped to the top in a mere 41 seconds. The elevator man told us the Needle was once the tallest structure west of the Mississippi River. It was built in an area called the Seattle Center for the 1962 World’s Fair. On a clear day, you can see forever, or at least to Vancouver. How about a little wave for those Canucks? The Center also contains the incredible Chihuly Garden and Glass showplace, with eight galleries and three Drawing Walls offering a comprehensive collection of artist Dale Chihuly’s significant work. We thought we might pick up a little piece of memorabilia but the littlest pieces cost $2000. And they break.
Since we had bought Seattle City Passes ($79), we also dropped into the nearby Museum of Pop Culture. After about ten minutes, we decided pop culture doesn’t really need a museum and walked back to the hotel for a short rest before hoofing it on to Pioneer Square. The park nearby is soothing and offers a decent selection of lunch spots, one of which we visited. Bill got a BLT sandwich that was as big as a minor planet. On the way home, a street singer/violinist played us a fine rendition of La Donna e mobile. Everything may be up to date in Kansas City but you don’t get La Donna e mobile, so ring up five points for Seattle. Culturally sated, we headed for the docks to book us a boat trip. Hey, it was part of the Seattle City Pass deal and we were taking full advantage. Okay, almost full. You can only see so many aquariums in life, and I’ve done my time. Sorry, Nemo.
Views from the Space Needle, colorful facade from pop art museum, alien flowers at Seattle Center.
Sleepless In Seattle
Over the last decade, American hotelery has succumbed to an evil blight, a stye in the eye of restfulness, a sure cure for comfortable sleeping misnamed “the comforter.” Simple blankets, which served sleepers admirably for centuries, no longer would do. The comforter, a type of bedding made of two lengths of fabric or covering sewn together and filled with insulative materials for warmth, became the New Girl In Town. Hotel maids could now make a bed in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. Meanwhile, hotel guests roasted under the covers. You might as well wear a suit of armor to bed. And don’t bother to suggest merely getting under a sheet. Those unpredictable hotel air-conditioning systems can leave you Freezing in Fairbanks. The Hampton Inn Gateway uses comforters. So does the Kimpton Palladian, our hotel in Seattle. After about eight hours of sleep in two days, I ran up the white flag and the maids finally came running with bedware suited for human beings.
Another thing. You know how you’ll occasionally see a giant fire envelop the upper floors of a hotel? There’s always some clever fellow, perhaps a wily ex-con, who has the good sense to tie a few sheets together and escape a fiery death. Try that with your comforter, Sparky.
Views from the cruise.
Cruisin’
Some folks may tell you that nothing could be finer than to be in Carolina in the morning, but it’s just not true. Try cruising Elliot Bay adjacent to Seattle some night around sunset with a mai tai in your glass. Argosy Cruises will take you out for a narrated spin around the area several times a day. You’ll find out more about the city in an hour-long jaunt than most of the natives ever learned. Facts like the land Seattle occupies has been inhabited now for over 4000 years. The city was founded by the Denny Party, a group of bored midwesterners who left Cherry Grove, Illinois on April 10, 1851, looking for a little fun. They finally settled their wagons at Alki Point on November 13, 1851.
When gold was discovered in Canada’s Klondike in August, 1896, Seattle became the jumping off point for transportation to and from the gold fields of the Yukon.
The Boeing Company, originally a boat manufacturer, was founded by William Boeing in 1916. When World War II arrived, the company’s growth exploded with the government’s sudden need for tens of thousands of planes a year. Boeing immediately became the largest employer in Seattle. The company is now the world’s leading producer of commercial passenger planes.
The bridge which connects Seattle and Medina across Lake Washington is the world’s longest floating bridge. Bill Gates, co-founder and former chairman of Microsoft has to cross it every time he drives home to M-town. Gates, by the way, won a dinner at the Space Needle at age 11, a prize paid for by his pastor when little Billy won a contest by memorizing the Sermon on the Mount and reciting it flawlessly. Save that one for your next Ultimate Trivia bout.
Seattle is home to the world’s first gas station, opened on East Marginal Way in 1907. It is ranked the most literate city in the country with the highest percentage of residents with a college degree or higher. Seattle is the first city with the good sense to play a Beatles song on the radio. The city’s annual rainfall, widely advertised and deplored, is actually less than that of Houston, Chicago and New York City. You’ll be shocked to discover that people in Seattle buy more sunglasses per capita than do those of any other U.S. city. Seattle has the second-highest per capita rate of live music performances in the country, second only to New York City. More people bike to work in the Emerald City than any other similar-sized municipality in the land and it’s the first city to put police on bicycles. Seattle has nearly 500 houseboats, more than anywhere else in the country. And the city’s Pier 52 is the busiest ferry terminal in the United States.
Last and least, Seattle is the birthplace of Starbuck’s, the indispensible coffee chain which has taken over the world. The allegedly “original” Starbuck’s across from Pike’s Place Market, has a neverending line out the door and so does the one in Raffles City, Shanghai.
It’s quite a place, this Seattle. Full of energy and optimism and music and just plain fun. It’s a beautiful setting, virtually surrounded by water, the awesome Mount Rainier poking its head up in the distance, overseeing all. Its denizens are happy to be there. A casual Bill Poll found not a single Seattleite who wished to live elsewhere, and that includes a few generally cranky cabbies. Our stay during the driest period of the year found us with constantly blue skies and temperatures ranging from 55 to 81 degrees, often breezy but seldom knock-you-down windy. The inhabitants claim that Winters are not unduly harsh and they’ve learned to live with the rains. All things considered, a magical place, a top five or six city, far more affordable than its California brethren. We’ll give it an overall rating of 8.5. The music is good and it’s easy to dance to.
Images From The Chihuly Glass Museum
That’s all, folks….
