NationalGeographic | January 10, 2011 | In Botswana's Okavango Delta, an ostracized lioness and her two cubs must fight alone to survive - overcoming all manner of hazard, from the raging wildfires on the Delta, to the jealousy of sister lionesses, to the marauding males who kill her mate, to the prey that becomes predator. Their only defense is to escape to Duba Island -- and with that, an unknown future.
Stevie Nicks & Don Henley, "Leather & Lace." Henley, I'm telling you -- he just crumples all he touches. This little tender one from 1981 doesn't seem to get the airplay it once did. Expect a revival soon. But you shouldn't like it for a very clear reason: the image of Stevie letting her lace down, with Don -- bearded, hairy Texan Don -- leaning in towards her, covered in LEATHER (!?), then giving that long, meaningful pause in his second verse after he sings "and sometimes I cry..." He lets that hang for a while. Giving you the chance to just imagine him -- a serious Texan -- putting his hand down on his leather chaps and looking up to reflect, with mirrored tearways equally running across both of his bearded cheeks. Don, and I mean this, thank you.
Collective Soul, "December." Oh, this one hurts. There has never been a bigger group of posers than Stockbridge, Georgia's C-Soul. For proof, just listen to their first big song "Shine," and how Ed Roland -- apparently in all seriousness -- pops in that affected "yeah" at each pause of the inevitable testicular riff (children, don't do what I've done). But "December." Despite the break into occasional palm-to-forehead-slapping Eddie Vedderish growls, easier-going "December" bubbles with violins, Byrds-y guitars with nice guitar crescendos and air-conditioned backing vocals layered on top of the building outro. OK Roland, you win.
Elton John, "I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues." Elton, you had me as soon as you had that overly earnest, possibly English-as-a-second-language backing chorus echoing you at the end with overly enunciated lines "laugh-ing like chil-dren, livv-ing like luvv-errrs." Not to mention that fake Stevie Wonder harmonica solo. Rule: Never do that. But Elton did, and in the end some songs are better without rules.
Ringo Starr & the All-Star Band, "Love Me Do." This is very simply the best song of all time -- and I sort of mean it. Adding an extra minute to a song he never sang for a 1998 VH1 special, Ringo and his cast of almost-huge bandmates (including Jack Blades of Night Ranger) try to fill every possible gap, with oversung vocals, 'oh yeahs,' and guitar trills that had no part, with reason, in the original. It's overstuffed with effort, and love, and for some reason it absolutely works. Perhaps just because Ringo makes everything happy. Actually I DO play this loud at intersections.
Last year, I traveled to Gettysburg to answer the immortal question: how do reenactors decide who dies first, in what order, during mock battles? I never really got a straight answer. And the 2009 version of the battle -- Gettysburg's legendary Pickett's Charge -- led to zero Confederate fatalities, unlike the real event which was a slaughter leading to bloodied gray uniforms. But I liked the reenactors. They meant what they did, were happy to share their world of wool uniforms on 100-degree days, and share why they did it.
This year I wanted more. And got 'INTO' the role, and see how it feels on the INSIDE of the world of reenactments. Well, a little.
Every July 8, Philadelphia quietly holds an annual reading of the Declaration of Independence at Independence National Historic Park with a couple dozen reenactors taunting and celebrating the document. And they were kind enough to sit aside some buckled shoes, knee pants and tri-cornered hat for me to wear. And, at a last-second debriefing of that reenactment plan, a ponytailed ranger asked for 'Loyalist' volunteers, and I naturally raised my hand.
It was fun. Yelling 'traitor!' and 'hang him!' before the Independence Hall. But it wasn't easy. Nerves swelled walking into the mass, where visitors quickly learned I supported the king, and let me know their disapproval, and with it the realization I don't know the history of the time as well as I should.
I asked why they did it, and one reenactor -- a ranger by day -- told me, 'Each year we have people say they didn't know that some people were against independence. That's pretty much the answer.'
* 'Little Saigon' (or ViMi) around Mills and Colonial has excellent cheap Vietnamese restaurants -- as good as any I've had outside Vietnam. * The 'naive art' of Earl Cunningham at the Mennello Museum, who painted scenes to scale of his interest (houses and people usually very small, birds very very BIG). * The wee 'Milk District' at Robinson and Bumby has a handful of bars/eateries (great beer selection at the Social Chameleon) in the shadow of a milk processing plant.
Oh, and the Simpsons ride at Universal -- the best of all time.
I'm still steamed that the city celebrated the centennial of this iconic, overlooked bridge two months ahead of time because, essentially, the weather's better. (Some videomakers didn't mind.) The 76 had other ideas -- going deep into the New Year's Eve snow, and commissioning an original song, to celebrate the bridge ON ITS ACTUAL BIRTHDAY. Because that's just the sort of birthday befitting a bridge like the Manhattan. And yes, we did clean up all that confetti.
I've long last track of how many 'unreasonable' days -- or sightings of pants-staining butt sweat on subways -- we've had to endure this summer in New York. All I know is that winter is way underrated as a time to travel (or explore your own home). Media-wise in this ep, we were able to get in hand-drawn signs, telephone calls, a couple interviews and random Bulgarian footage in this one. MOST HITS Is San Francisco Better than NYC?
By far the most controversial (and viewed -- with over 10,000 clicks), this episode's simple question sent San Franciscans and New Yorkers onto the defense. One recent YouTube commenter lashed out, 'Is this guy for real?' Actually the SF/NY question remains is open-ended, never answered. There really is no 'better' in travel. And the video never claims it.
It didn't do well -- a trifle of exposure compared with some -- but the 13-second reenactment of 'the Shooting of an Ohioan President' remains my personal favorite moment in all 40 episodes (or any aspect of my career). AND, I think, the fun fact that you can order Lebanese sandwiches in Chester Arthur's former bedrooms (and that he had a pants fetish) is worth the price of admission. (No, I'm NOT the presidential assassin; that was handled by John M Whitaker.)
It willfully defies the 76-second limit by the longest shot imaginable -- it's nearly 7.6 minutes -- but following Billy Joel's lyrics across mid-way Long Island, with a fun group of contest winners including BrooklynNomad, led to meeting some unforgettable characters and meeting Julie Chang of Fox 5 NYC. More importantly, I'll never hear 'Scenes from an Italian Restaurant' quite the same way again. UN-MADE MOVIE PROXY/OVERUSE OF TELEPHONE Vikings vs Pirates
Hollywood refuses to ask a key hypothetical question of our past -- who'd win in a fight, Vikings or pirates? -- travel, once again, comes to the rescue with Viking/pirate sites chipping in.
I first learned of 'uptown' and 'brownstones' on Sesame Street. Finally I got to visit the source. And to quote Ciccone Youth, it felt like seeing New York for the first time. BEST FAKE RUSSIAN/SWISS ACCENT $10 Luge Lessons
Anticipating an mass mockery of luge during the Olympics -- and a few days before the tragic death of one luger in warm-ups -- I went Ponce de Leon on a question NBC's exhaustive Olympic coverage over the decades never bothered to ask: where can you luge? Turns out Michigan rules the day. And, at ten bucks, the best travel deal outside of DC's free museums. So 76 HQ is happy. (Though we're all still waiting an answer regarding Apolo Ono's inexcusable 'soul stripe.')
In the very first episode, the 76 template was conceptualized/focus-grouped/shot/edited/released in about 25 elapsed minutes, including artwork of the signs. Really don't want to confess how long the Billy Joel one took.
A few years ago, on a flight from Magadan to Vladivostok, Russia, a couple thin, well-dressed Russians in suits looked across the aisle to me, one shook a vodka bottle and asked 'you drink with us' -- no question mark intended.
After a few shots on the flight, we landed and I watched the two exit first and proceed to immigration, where they turned on their heels and began checking documentation. After clearing me, a trio with vodka breath, they offered me a ride into town in their SUV.
Never know who you'll meet on planes.
It was a rather different story for the ex-JetBlue flight attendant Steven Slater, who is getting his fair share of high-fives around the travel community for sliding into airline history.
It's fun debating friendliest, prettiest, ugliest place in this world of travel. But some negative superlatives can strike me as particularly careless or hollow -- particularly when based on a quick, solitary visit.
It's what I call the 'one-pillar pagoda.'
No opinions should be built on the back of a lone observation or experience. But often they are. I can't say the number of times I've heard swipes at Vietnam -- 'greedy loud locals ripping off tourists' -- from visitors who stuck with the deeply rutted backpacker trail from cafe to cafe, travel agent to travel agent. Go a block or two in any direction -- away from the fly-paper tout zones of banana pancakes and Internet cafes -- it's another story.
Alas.
I fight this urge to demean or overly sell a place all the time. In fact, one of the key things I've learned from updating a couple dozen Lonely Planet guidebooks has been to NOT trust yourself. At least not always. Particular giddiness or fortune in meeting/knowing locals that connect you to a place, or the presence of an untimely headache can greatly alter how one sees -- and talks of -- a destination for years to come.
This same principle, of course, works in life too. One-pillar structures exist (like the Hanoi pagoda above), but there's a reason most buildings are built on at least four supports.
I've tried to promote 'travel animals' before -- such as the walrus, the pig and the prairie dog. But the notion has changed for me. It's time to refocus toward animals who travel, not just animals to look at.
Some will liken the best 'travel animal' to those who travel the longest distances, like the arctic tern which travels the equivalent of three trips to the moon over its life. But distances, just like ticked-box countries visited, doesn't equate to travel value. Instead, I'm looking for are animals that combine relaxation, fun with curiosity and escape.
We have one suggestion. Do you have any candidates?
Just back from GoMedia, a Canadian tourism conference in Toronto. I squeaked out a little free time to follow Rush -- the bronze medal winner in total gold and platinum records (after the Beatles and Stones), though completely snubbed by the Rock'n'Roll Hall of Fame, which found a place for the Hollies.
More to come, but meanwhile, please enjoy a still of my serious conversation with Dave Glover, aka 'the kid in the Subdivisions video,' along with the 'high school halls' of L'Amoreaux Collegiate Institute, where the video was shot in 1982.
As co-host of the TBEX NYC event tonight, I debuted a theory: all trips can be broken down into one or more of six primary reasons why we travel. Making up, like primary colors, all blends of trips we take. A periodic table of travel elements.
Here they are, in portable flashcard version:
We travel to communicate. Uncle Sedgwick moved to Oregon? Go see him.
Like relaxing with bad TV, we sometimes travel to veg out -- on a beach, in a forest, on a mountain. To forget the muck of ennui our lives have become. Or a job. Or a relationship. Or a college football score.
We travel to 'tick off' a bucket list of dream places, experiences around the world. Like the Eiffel Tower, Taj Mahal or St Louis' Gateway Arch.
A natural partner in 'tick-off' travelers is showing off. That comes when we pick up experiences solely for talking points to bore friends and family members when we get back. Eg 'Dessert? Did you just say dessert? Reminds me of the Sahara -- I went on a camel safari there in '98...'
[Note: Andrew Zimmern of the Travel Channel's Bizarre Foods actually stole -- with permission -- this 'Show-Off' flashcard at TBEX.]
The flip-side of showing off is what we personally absorb when traveling -- when we travel to learn. Of different cultures, languages, biting habits of strange gray dogs.
But food is biggest, for many -- and often for me. I sometimes call those monuments, museums, markets and parks we visit on trips as the 'space between meals.' Often, it's the food that anchors the trip. Even when the pizza comes with ketchup applied in fat dollops.
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