Saturday, June 13, 2020

2020 Pandemic Wandering, Day 2

Friday, June 12, Natchez, Mississippi to Nashville, Tennessee

The actual trace, in 2008
So I drove the entire length of the Natchez Trace Parkway. You may not know this -- I only figured it out the first time I was on the Parkway -- but the Natchez Trace Parkway and the Natchez Trace are two very different things. The Natchez Trace is the web of buffalo migratory paths and the footpaths Native Americans developed, first to follow the buffalo, and then in their trading with other tribes through what is now Mississippi; it was later improved as a Post Road in the early 19th Century, but the development of the steam-powered river boat put an end to that use.

The Parkway is just a well-maintained country road that roughly parallels the Trace, built originally as a back-to-work project of the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930s. There are few major towns along it -- only Jackson and Tupelo, Mississippi and Florence, Alabama -- and commercial traffic is prohibited. In the first 100 miles I drove out of Natchez, I saw another car about every nine miles. Things picked up after that, as I approached Jackson. The road is two lanes the entire length of 444 miles, and the speed limit is 50 almost the whole way. (In places it drops to 40.) It's a pleasant drive, with almost no challenge to it, and very little drama.


Putting two and two together, when planning the drive I figured nine hours, plus stops. Google Maps confirmed that estimate, giving me a time of eight and a half hours. I must've made a lot more stops than I thought, as it took me from 7:30 in the morning until 7:30 at night to make the drive. At the outset, I did make a number of stops: there are a lot of signs along the route that say things like "Historical Site, 1/2 mile," but I quickly realized they were all of the "Something used to be here" variety, so I bypassed them when I figured that out. (There are also a lot of places where you can hike portions of the actual Trace; those are of the "Come
Come Experience Misery
Experience Pre-Industrial Misery" sort, and I chose to pass on the offer.) I made a stop for a meagre lunch at Kosciusko, Mississippi (a lousy convenience-store fish sandwich) where I met another couple from San Antonio (but they live waaaay out in Ultra-Loopland, so it's not like we would ever get together). They were cruising the Parkway on a tricycle, so we had that to talk about, plus the wife is from France, so there was that.

Jackson Falls
I may have been able to make the drive on a single tank of gas, but decided that it would be cutting it uncomfortably close, so I did get off and drive 3 miles down another highway (and back) for gas in Alabama. And once I got to Tennessee there were a couple of waterfalls to check out: the first was a short walk for not much to see; the second, Jackson Falls, was a pretty steep climb down and an equally steep climb back up, but at least the falls were worth the effort. Plus I met a transplanted New Orleanian, a nice guy who invited me to join him and another Orleanian living in Nashville for dinner Saturday night. (I didn't go. I'm writing this blog instead.)

Meanwhile, I've learned two new things. Well, okay, one new thing, plus I've had one thing I already knew confirmed.

The new thing is that the hair on the top of my head has thinned to the point where I now get sunburned driving with the top down. I wear a visor (and lots of suntan lotion) when I travel, and it's never been a problem before. Now, it is, so I will have to start a search for a hat or cap that doesn't get sucked off when the car is in motion. That could be a problem, with the shape of my head. (Maybe I could get a bill cap and cut out the back part of the crown...?)

The thing I've had confirmed is that I prefer being cheap. The hotels I chose in Natchez and Nashville are the type that certain friends who've travelled with me in the past would have preferred. Not the Four Seasons by any stretch, but nicer than I usually go for; 3-star places. Since rates are low just now, what with the corona virus keeping people home, I decided to go with things my friends would prefer. It ain't me, though. I paid $87 plus tax for a room in Natchez; I could have gotten one that would have been good enough for me for less than $60. I miss the thirty bucks. This room in Nashville is about the same cost, but on top of that, there's a parking charge of $20/night that really gripes my ass. (I thought I specified "free parking" when I searched for the room on Expedia or whatever site I booked through. I may be wrong. In any case, I won't make that mistake again.) I could have gotten a perfectly decent room with free parking at a La Quinta -- several in town -- and saved more than $80.

So from now on, two stars is enough for me when I'm travelling alone. Hell, one is sufficient in most places, but I find those often aren't much cheaper than 2-star motels. (Of course, I end up in a lot of 1-star or no-star motels, because that's all a lot of small towns offer.) All I want is a conveniently-located clean room with free parking and internet (another tick mark against the place in Natchez).

And, again, here's a link to the picture album for this trip.

2020 Pandemic Wandering, Day One

I wrote this Thursday night, but couldn't publish it then because the Internet at the fancy-schmancy hotel I used was not acceptably secure. Sorry for the delay.
 
First, a rant:

We are in the middle of a serious pandemic, which surely everyone in the country knows. Unfortunately, people seem to not understand the most basic fact about this pandemic disease, which is that is spreads from one person to another through the air we breathe.

Travelling alone in a car, I feel pretty safe from infection. Stopping at a gas station seems safe enough, as I can generally do my business there entirely away from other people. Even when I go into a convenience store (because of course the card reader at the pump wasn’t working) the clerk is behind a plexiglas shield. OK, safe enough there. But when I went to a Subway shop for lunch, I saw 8 people in line, none of them wearing a mask. Even worse, the three “sandwich artists” behind the counter weren’t wearing masks. 

Those are the people who, more than anyone else, should wear masks. The are the primary vectors for the disease. They are potentially exposed to the virus by every single person who steps up to place an order, and they will pass that exposure along to every subsequent person they talk to. 

I went somewhere else for lunch. Subway sandwiches are pretty good, and I like knowing what I’m getting, nutritionally speaking, but they are not literally to die for.

OK, so that’s off my chest now.

DAY 1: Thursday, June 11, San Antonio to Natchez

The drive over was uneventful. Top down all the way, and for those who are homebound in this health emergency, I can report that intercity traffic along I-10 is only slightly less than in normal times. Certainly every over-the-road truck is out there, and traffic between Katy and Houston was heavy enough that I opted to take the Katy Tollway, where mine was one of three cars I saw using it before the tollway ended at Loop 610. And for those who know me, the fact that I was willing to pay the extra dollar to use the tollway along there should be proof enough that traffic in the mainlanes was heavy.

I got to my hotel in Natchez about 6pm. There was no one at the desk, so while I waited for the clerk to return I made some calculations and decided that I could grab a quick dinner and get to Windsor Ruins in time to take some sunset pictures there. I had planned to stop there in the morning — it’s just a few miles off the Natchez Trace Parkway, and about 40 miles from my hotel. 

So I drove up there. A nice drive: once I passed the city’s airport, there was almost no traffic at all and the sun was low enough in the sky to the west that it produced no glare and little heat. I got to the ruins, down a pleasant country lane, and was the only person there.

Windsor Ruins
Windsor Ruins are the remains of a huge plantation mansion built just before the Civil War. It survived that cataslysm largely unscathed, only to burn down in a fire 25 years later. All that remains is the Corinthian collonade that surrounded the house. I was expecting it to be as mystically eerie as the reconstructed collonade from the US Capitol’s porch that stands in the National Arboretum in Wasshington DC (see below), but because these ruins are somewhat unstable, they are surrounded by a six-foot-high chain-link fence, so you cannot walk among the columns; and the fence is high enough that, for most of its circumference, it’s very hard for even a tall person to get a good picture. I could just get my lens over the top rail if I stood on tiptoe, and not always then. (There’s also a place in back where some frustrated tourist or uncaring teenager has cut the fence open.) Still, I think I got some decent pictures (including, I hope, a couple of nice shots with the car in them. Sadly, I won’t know until tomorrow, because this fancy hotel I chose to stay in (because rates are cheap right now, what with the pandemic) has an unsecured wireless internet with an unrecognised certificate, and so Firefox, my browser of choice, will not allow me to connect to it. So I will have to wait until tomorrow to upload my pictures and have a look at them, at which time I will cut and paste this narrative from my notepad to my blog.
The collonade at the Nat'l Arboretum, in DC
 









And here's a link to the pictures from this trip.

Wednesday, June 10, 2020

The Adventure Resumes

Oh, this "lockdown" has been tedious. Not so much for me: my normal life before coronavirus wasn't so very different from life in lockdown. Still, plans were upset.

Several years ago I acknowledged that I had driven my little convertible into the ground, as expected, and I got rid of it with the expectation that I would find something else to replace it with; another convertible, newer and possessed of a longer
The Old One
lifespan than a 13-year-old car with close to 200,000 miles on it, but one with the legroom and trunkroom that I absolutely require for the kind of travelling I like to do; and one with something like the sexy flowing lines of the old convertible.

Well, surprise, surprise: after a search of 4 or 5 years, I accepted the fact that there simply are no newer convertibles that  have the particular combination of attributes I wanted. There are beautiful cars out there, to be sure; I'm particularly attracted to the large Mercedes convertible. But none of those pretty cars, including especially the large Mercedes, have sufficient trunk room. Once you put the top down, an adequate stowage compartment becomes a slot for a briefcase. And other pretty convertibles start out with a too-small trunk.And others have cockpits so restrictive that I can barely slide under the steering wheel.

So last year I did some reflecting, and decided that, given the limited time I have left to do the kind of travelling I want (even though I'm still only 49 again), and the limited demands I make on my road car -- averaging 40 mph on back roads, even for days at a stretch, just isn't the sort of challenge a decent vehicle, even an old one, will succumb to -- I decided that what I need is another old sexy Jag. So I bought one, in January, in California. Drove it home just in time to beat the virus to South Texas. (Possibly worse.) And so it's been pretty much sitting in my driveway, laughing at me, as I cancel one planned trip after another, waiting for some place to go.


The New One

Enough. I can "social distance" as well in a car by myself as I can in my own neighbourhood. While in past travels I have occasionally met new people, and even developed a handful of good long-distance friendships with people from across the country, and renewed some old relationships, there's I see no reason why I should feel more at risk talking briefly to a masked hotel desk clerk or a waitress in a cafe in some remote hillside community in Kentucky than I already am when fondling groceries at the local supermarket, or having coffee and chilaquiles in the local taquería. So, why sit home?

And so, my county count will resume. Come Thursday, I'm heading out. First I plan to drive the entire length of Natchez Trace Parkway (I've already driven most of it: 40 mph on a nice country road uninterrupted by cross-traffic for 8 hours), then I'm off for a wander through the backroads of Tennessee and Kentucky, visiting counties I've never been to before. (There are plenty in Kentucky, and I won't get to all of them; there are fewer in Tennessee, but I'll only get to about half of what's left.) Then, up into Ohio, where there are six counties I've never seen, all in the northwest part of that state, so I will get to all of them, and that will make Ohio the 32nd state that I finish with. I'll get to some counties in Indiana and Missouri on the way home, but again, won't finish with those. (I could, easily, if I was willing to take the time, but the Merseyside Derby is set to take place on Father's Day, and I want to be home in time to watch it with my wife. It matters, especially this year. Certainly more than a few additional counties in the midwest.)

In past years, I would post prolix accounts of my trips as I went along. (As here, for example.) That got inconvenient when I travelled with friends, as there was usually something more interesting to do than type all evening. So I just started posting links to the pictures I took that day. Then that got inconvenient, as technology issues often got in the way. So I switched to just posting links to the photo albums when I got home. Well, this time I'll be travelling alone again, so I figure to have not much else to do of an evening than post travelogues every evening, or at least most evenings, wifi permitting. That plan was threatened by the fact that both of my computers were out of action, one dead, one dying. But today my little Macbook Air was saved from the rubbish heap by the timely intercession of a not-too-inconveniently-located repair shop (and two hundred dollars), no thanks to Apple and its poorly designed website.* So I will have my little computer along, and my camera batteries are charging as I type, and maybe there will be something of interest to take a picture of, once I get to Natchez.

Stay tuned.
The County-Count Status Map (not totally up-to-date)

* for example: I forgot my Apple ID, so I clicked on the "forget?" link ... and the first thing it tells you to do is enter your Apple ID. Duh.

Friday, January 10, 2020

Best Films of 2019

There were some pleasant surprises during this past year, and of course some resounding disappointments; but there were very few films that I regret having paid to see ... mainly because I saw most of the really bad ones on second run, and there just aren't many movies that are a waste of a dollar (or two; prices have gone up). One came really close, though.

The year's best (in descending order):

All is True: Shakespeare in retirement. This film would get my vote for best movie of the year, and for Oscars for Kathryn Wilder ("Judith") and director Kenneth Branagh.

Judy: Renée Zellweger absolutely becomes Judy Garland. Poignant, subtle, intense and moving.

Stuber: Seriously, a very good buddy film. Very funny, and very well written. A real surprise.

Shazam: Good performances, excellent special effects and a not-too-
silly coming-of-age story combine with a solid script that was, mercifully, light on Marvel Studios' usual shallow philosophy.

Black and Blue: A surprisingly insightful look at the struggle people face with expectations of divided loyalties, it manages to avoid most cheap sentimental mush.

Once Upon a Time ... in Hollywood: What would've happened if the Manson Family had gotten the wrong address that night. A better screenwriter could've told the story in about half an hour less, though, and a better director would have made him get the writing tighter.



The best of the rest (kind of in descending order): 

On the Basis of Sex: the Ruth Bader Ginsburg's story from her entrance to law school to hir first big court win. A good story, a good performance, a good period piece.

Hotel Mumbai: A telling of the story of the terrorist attacks in Mumbai, and a very good telling at that: effective but brief set-up to introduce the scene and the characters, then deep exploration of the reactions of hotel staff and guests, with minimal "humanizing" of the terrorists.

JoJo Rabbit: World War II through the eyes of a ten-year-old Hitler Youth. This touching film is beautifully shot and the writing is amusing, despite the sad subject. Plus, it's always impressive when a child actor give a subtly nuanced performance.

Instant Family: A real tearjerker, with a choppy script but a wonderful story. I really wanted to slap the bitch playing the adoptive mom, but someone in the film did it for me.

Gemini Man: Once you get past the "youthification" technology that can make Will Smith look 25 again, you find you're watching a pretty good action film.

The Best of Enemies: The technical limitations of a small budget are masterfully overcome by a stirring, even amazing, story and solid performances by all the principals.

Brittany Runs a Marathon: I laughed a little; I cried a little more. A warm, funny story and workmanlike film. 

The Upside: Predictable, yes, and unlikely "based-on-a-true-story" story, it was kept surprisingly interesting by good performances from both principals, Kevin Hart and Bryan Cranston.

Rocketman: The music makes a good accompaniment to this Elton John biopic, looking back through 50 years of fantasy-filtered memory. An excellent performance by Taron Egerton makes it hard to remember that, in reality, Bernie Taupin's lyrics weren't usually about Elton John.

Long Shot: Seth Rogen gets hired by his former babysitter, who is now Secretary of State. If you can ignore the politically correct claptrap, there's some really funny stuff in this movie -- much more than one usually finds in his work.

Downton Abbey: An opulent continuation of a television series that I gave up on after three seasons. The situations are contrived, and the script tries to cover too many characters' problems, making the film's story feel superficial. Still, it's gratifying to see the honour of unglamourous work presented without apology.

Knives Out: Crammed full of stars from the B+ list (including former Marvel Action Heroes hoping to have further careers), this film's entertaining but silly plot amuses with red herrings but doesn't actually twist.



The rest that were good enough (in no particular order):

Bumblebee: another surprisingly good action film, from the Transformer series. The story's good, albeit trite, and the cardboard villains are ... well, cardboard. Excellent special effects help make this movie entertaining, though it really could have used some development of the potentially romantic side-story.

The Kid Who Would Be King: Morgana's costume was magnificent, and the English countryside was a great asset to this production. The special effects were all well-designed, but execution was not always to the highest standard: while Merlin's transformations were exemplary (and generally amusing as well), the movement of the Undead Warriors' horses seemed too jerky. And these kids' acting was wooden, a sign of perhaps rushed directing. Compare these performances to the child actors in JoJo Rabbit, above, or the early Harry Potter films.

Cold Pursuit: Revenge in the snow with some black humour to lighten the mood; well-written, well-acted, well-made, though no part was a stretch for anyone in the film.

Fighting With My Family: Unattractive characters that make you feel empathy makes this a suprisingly inspirational story. The acting is stiff in places, and the pacing is iffy.

Yesterday: This Beatles-based rom-com would have been far, far better if they'd actually performed whole songs: the only one done all the way through was over the closing credits. The ending is kind of lame, too.

Hobbs and Shaw: Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Kevin Hart's small part is the best bit.

Angel Has Fallen: Despite the plot having as many holes in it as the hospital wall after the big gunfight scene, it's an enjoyable shoot-em-up.

Avengers: Endgame: It didn't seem as long as it was, but thank God they didn't feel the need to actually introduce characters, or it would have been an hour longer. It's just another well-made action flick running on the usual shallow substance.

Ford Versus Ferrari: Excellent sound work, done with artistic restraint. There were some really funny moments to lighten the gritty work of auto racing.

The Good Liar: A complex plot and good performances from the leads (Helen Mirren and Ian McKellen, who are capable of more than we see here) raises questions about when retribution ceases to be justice and becomes mere vindictive revenge.

Honey Boy: Interesting without being in the least memorable.

Jumanji 2: the Next Level: as good as the earlier issue, despite the usual silly story line.


Not really good enough:

The Favourite: Lavish, but the dialogue misses a bit and the feminism is too on-the-nose.

Alita: Battle Angel: Very good special effects and a fairly good story (except for the idiotic romantic bit), but the whole movie is just a set-up for a franchise that, if it comes to fruition, will suck investment dollars away from more deserving pictures.

They Shall Not Grow Old: A World-War-One documentary by Peter Jackson. It's very slow to start, but picks up after a while, yet the Director's Notes after the closing credits are more interesting than the actual film.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse: Fascinating animation, sometimes more difficult to follow than a modern rapid-cut fight scene on film. It's really just a politically-correct origin story for yet another Spiderman, complete with all the trademark Marvel Studios shallow philosophy.

Aquaman: The star-power of Nicole Kidman doesn't make up for the comic-book production qualities, a throwback to earlier films from Marvel Studios; nor for the jejeune story, nor for special effects that aspire to more than they achieve. I can't resist saying, I would throw this one back.

Isn't It Romantic: I'm not sure if this Rebel Wilson vehicle is meant as a send-up of rom-coms, or as just a rom-com itself. Either way, it falls short, though it remains a pleasant enough little movie, I suppose; sillier than I'd expected.

Alladin: Kind of hokey. The cartoon version was much better. Will Smith did alright as the genie, but the guy playing Aladdin seems to have no particular talent beyond the right ethnicity.
 
Good Boys: It must be really hard to get kids to recite dialogue in a natural way. That chore is made even harder when the dialogue they have to recite is kind of stilted to begin with. A weak coming-of-age film.

The Art of Self Defense: One of my least-favourite actors (Jesse Eisenberg) in a black comedy about a guy who joins a karate class after being mugged. The interesting plot twists and absurd situations are hampered by a relentingly slow pace.

Hustlers: Two-dimensional female characters having fun and stealing from one-dimensional male characters. As a man, I find its portrayal of men insulting, but at least the music was good. (And another plus: having just seen the movie two weeks before allowed me to actually recognise one of its stars in a real-life encounter. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known what JLo looks like.)


Worst of the lot (in descending order):

The Current War: Slow, dull, disjointed; a movie full of uninteresting villains, with nary a flawed hero in sight.

Booksmart: Biggest disappointment of the year: a politically-correct coming of age rom-com set in a painfully outré LA high school. I literally wanted to fast forward through the lesbian sex scene (and thank goodness there was only one). I only laughed twice -- actually, guffawed -- both times near the end of the film when relief was in sight.

John Wick 3: Parabellum:  A spectacle of almost uninterrupted carefully choreographed quick-cut fight scenes held together only by the loosest and most ludicrous hint of a plot.

Robin Hood: No redeeming features. So-so action and special effects, Taron Egerton and Jamie Foxx at their worst, and an utterly silly telling of the legend. Comes as close as any movie ever has to making me want my dollar back.