New England’s Rising Star
That’s what Hartford calls itself. Although I had a great trip (despite the weather), I think the city’s logo is misleading. Then again my first impressions were soured by my travel companion. I boarded Amtrak at South Station and was impressed at the leg-room (seeing as this train goes to Chicago, I guess the leg-room is needed for the nearly 24-hour ride – fortunately, I was just going to Sprinfield, MA). The train was nearly empty yet when the train stopped at Back Bay Station 5 minutes later, I was tapped on the shoulder by some hippy-chick with MAJOR body odor asking if she could sit next to me.
I straightened up enough to look around me…hinting to her that there were dozens of empty seats – even rows – available. She didn’t take the hint so I acted all gay and pissy and shuffled a bit to make room for her. She had tons of luggage (including two guitars). After a few minutes she finally settled in…the body odor smell wasn’t “as” bad once she finally stopped lifting her arms to put the luggage in the overhead bins.
And if I kept my face toward the window and breathed through my mouth, it wasn’t so bad.
About an hour into the two-hour ride she decided it was time for lunch. Doesn’t it figure that the smelliest woman on the east coast would decide to have hard-boiled eggs…on a confined train!? COME ONE! Who is that disrespectful?!?!?!
Anyway, I couldn’t arrive in Springfield soon enough. When I got there, Adam picked me up and we drove back to West Hartford (where he lives). He showed me West Hartford Center which was the quintessential small New England downtown. We then went to his house (a charming Cape*) and had a great dinner on his gas grill.
We were rather lazy and ended up just talking, eating (home-made brownies!!), and watching DVD’s all night.
Saturday was supposed to be rainy and miserable (thanks to Tropical Storm Ernesto) and the radar maps on the news showed huge bands of rain heading toward Hartford. Somehow, though, they all seemed to dissipate before hitting Hartford. We were able to venture out the entire day without even a shower.
We went downtown and toured the Old State House (built in 1797 and designed by Charles Bulfinch….designer of Boston’s “new” state house of the same time).
We then had lunch at the Wadsworth Athenaeum and explored the art exhibits there. We then went to Real Art Ways where there were a few exhibits going on. One was a series of photographs of bears. No, not the woodsy critters, but the gay subculture of bears.
Now, I tend to prefer stocky/husky/chunky/beefy fellows. And I tend to prefer them with body hair. But the men in this exhibit were morbidly obese. They had stretch marks and one even had a rash under his Dolly Parton sized breasts that dangled heavily over his belly. Erotic this was not.
There was another exhibit with these interactive robots with TV screen faces. Odd, but fun.
Later that evening we had dinner at, and hung out at, this bar/lounge. I forget the name (Tanise?). Adam was drinking a Chai Mar-tea-ni that was deceptively good. I kept it simple with San Pellegrino.
On Sunday we explored Elizabeth Park before he dropped me off at the Amtrak station for my ride home. After he drove away, the clerk at the station notified me that the train was going to be 5 hours late.
FIVE HOURS!
Now, Springifled is an unplesasant city. And the Amtrak station in Sprinfield is even worse. The clerk suggested I walk down the street to the Peter Pan bus station. I did…and managed to get on the 4:15PM bus (that didn’t actually leave until 4:45PM).
Later that night – back in Boston – I got together with Mike and his new beau in the North End. Around 11PM they went to Paradise (a bar, not a state of mind) and I went home.
On Monday (yay holiday weekends) I rested and then got together with Marin and Roger to see “Another Gay Movie”. This movie spoofs all of those straight teen sex romps like American Pie and Porkies. It was hilarious and completely offensive. They managed to get cameos from a veritable who’s who of gay culture….Richard Hatch (first Survivor winner) was nude for all of his scenes…even full frontal. Graham Norton also went nearly nude in a jock strap with strap-on attachment in front. James Something-or-Other (from the reality show, Boy Meets Boy) went nude, too.
We then went out for ice cream…where the sales clerk commented to me that my ice cream selection was very popular among children. Gee, thanks. I prefer my dessert without commentary, thank you very much.
Now it’s Monday, I’m back at work…and I’ve posted some photos for your boredom…er…enjoyment.
The first series is the interior of the Old State House in Connecticut.
The next two are of some items in the museum of curiosities that occupies a 2nd floor room of the Old State House. The first is a double headed calf. The second is a double-headed pig. Pretty.
Finally, we go back to beauty again, with photos of Elizabeth Park.
*What is it with houses in this part of Connecticut? The houses were mostly built in the 1940’s and all have these attached garages. But the garages are too small for cars. I mean, there are people with Honda Civic’s and VW Bugs who have to park their cars in the driveway since they don’t fit. And considering how big cars were in the 1940’s, neither Adam nor I could figure out what the purpose was of these garages. They must have been used as sheds only…but why didn’t they just make the garages 2 feet (or more) wider to accommodate actual cars?
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Ah, Hartford. I’m glad he brought you to Elizabeth Park. Otherwise your view of Hartford may have been *completely* wretched.
I SO want to see that movie.
OMG – why didn’t you get up and change your seat? It would appear that you have some bizarre attractiveness to socially uncouth females….
Did you think the photos were exploitative? That rash under his man-boobs was most like fungus! yum.
Mike’s new beau? I know gay boys move fast but that’s ridiculous! 🙂
5 hours? And we wonder why public transit is not the mode of choice for people. sigh.
Sounds like a fun trip, overall, but I definitely would have channelled my inner (passive?) aggressor and likely would have told the woman that there were plenty of empty seats, or, if she seemed too lazy to move another foot, gotten up and said “tell you what – you can have the whole row – I’m going to move over here so I can stretch out” – if that didn’t work – the Garbo “I want to be ALONE!” might be needed….
In any case, West Hartford is a lovely place, no? I have a good friend from gradschool who moved (home) there to raise kids with her impossibly-handsome-and-nice husband; their 1930s subdivision seems very Rob & Laura Petrie or whatever – thorougly sweet! As to those garages, 1930s/40s cars, at least at the middle-class level, tended to be narrower and taller than later cars, so they might well have fit, though I’m not sure of that. ‘Tis often why the garages became useless from the mid-1950s onward, though!
Congrats on escaping Springfield!
What’s with all the two-headed animals? Did the early colonialists start the first Superfund site as well? Eccch.
I hate to say this but there’s a lot of “ewwwww” going on with this blog entry. I’m sorry you had to go through it all.
That being said, perhaps the little garages used to be the bathroom or something.