“Triangle Trip Part 2”
We drove from Corning to Albany on Monday. Vince was kind enough to pick us up there for the drive to Indian Lake (about 90 minutes.) That saved us quite a bit on rental car fees. Our first evening in Indian Lake was very relaxing. Sitting on the porch enjoying the sunset and getting to know the menagerie – Pete and Zeke the dogs, Archimedes the cat, and Jack the squawking bird.
And then there’s Morris the moose, quite a bit larger than Diana.
BP wanted to meet Jack the bird:
Chef Vince spoiled us with some perfectly cooked porterhouse steaks from the grill, served with broccoli and potatoes.
We settled into a wonderful wood fire. And a strange thing occurred. A cat decided that it liked McD. That never happens.
Tuesday began with a pleasant hike up to Super Point, providing a great view of the lake. We all managed well on the trek through the forest.
The views were certainly worth the hike:
Pete and Zeke were tired after the walk:
It was a beautiful sunny day and so we hung out down on the small beach, with McD sunbathing from the boat island. Life is good!
Life is good, and then Vince shows up with a cheese tray to elevate the experience even more.
Chef Vince struck again with Asian style baby back ribs, an Asian salad and yummy mac ‘n cheese with ham. We were so spoiled on this visit!
The Wednesday morning hike was on the forest roads rather than through the forest. We walked about four and a half miles round trip to the dam at the end of the lake.
It was another gorgeous day, so Vince and Lori invited friends over so that the kids could swim from the beach. Diana captured me talking to them with my hands:
Then I made a bad choice. “Let’s take the kayaks out on the lake, Vince.”
The view down the lake from the kayaks was spectacular, but the position my healing leg was in didn’t work well at all. After about ten minutes, it was time to head back to shore. Then Vince had to help pull me out – quite a bit of work.
Chef Vince got a night off and we drove to a local tapas restaurant, Bar Vino.
The food was great, and there was a very talented duo playing music. Here’s one of our favourites. (That’s the lady singer’s Dad that D’s talking to.)
The square deviled eggs were a hit.
We skipped the hike on Thursday morning, having stayed up quite a bit past bed time on Wednesday night, sharing music videos and the like.
Vince worked in the kitchen most of the day, creating our New Orleans send off dinner. Happy hour course: raw oysters and Rockefeller oysters. The Rockefeller being the best I have ever tasted – sorry Denny. The smaller, briny Maine oysters are preferable to the giant gulf oysters in New Orleans. Here’s Vince shucking the oysters:
And the end products:
After that was the best gumbo I’ve had. Vince is going to make it very difficult for the New Orleans restaurants to impress us. The jalapeno cornbread was equally delicious.
While I was supervising Vince in the kitchen, McD was working on a puzzle in the living area. She finished it before the day was done.
This was such a relaxing stay. Thanks to Vince and Lori for everything!
Vince was kind enough to drive us back down to Albany airport on Friday. We caught a flight to Philadelphia and then another on to Dallas. I had to say “Boo!” as we flew past the home of the Eagles, a big Cowboys division rival.
We spent the night at the Dallas airport hotel, and then drove down to New Orleans on Saturday, arriving around five o’clock.
Anne had invited the Krewe over to welcome us and made yummy crawfish Monica and jambalaya. We were tired from all the traveling, but enjoyed catching up with everyone.
We did a lap of Audubon park on Sunday morning, before doing our final walk through of the new house. The excessive heat sign was not kidding.
My book this week was “Friends, Lovers and the Big Terrible Thing” by Matthew Perry.
Here he is talking about trying to be cast for “Friends”:
“”You have got to get on Friends Like Us,” I said. “Not gonna happen,” my agents said. “You’re attached to the baggage handlers show. They’ve already measured you for the futuristic shirt and everything.” I was devastated. When I read the script for Friends Like Us it was as if someone had followed me around for a year, stealing my jokes, copying my mannerisms, photocopying my world-weary yet witty view of life. One character in particular stood out to me: it wasn’t that I thought I could play “Chandler,” I was Chandler.”
On his favourite day:
“Here’s the day I wish I could live over and over again (this is the Groundhog Day of my Groundhog Day). In fact, I wish I could relive it every day for the rest of my life. But I cannot. So, the only way to get past it is to tell it like a story, see if that helps. (This of course will not bring it back.)
It was New Year’s Eve 1995, Taos, New Mexico. All afternoon we’d been playing football in the snow. Me, and my girlfriend, Julia Roberts, and a bunch of our friends. She was the biggest movie star in the world, and I was on the number one show on TV. The courtship had initially been conducted via fax. Somewhere in the world, there is a stack of faxes.”
Here’s the online review:
““Hi, my name is Matthew, although you may know me by another name. My friends call me Matty. And I should be dead.”
So begins the riveting story of acclaimed actor Matthew Perry, taking us along on his journey from childhood ambition to fame to addiction and recovery in the aftermath of a life-threatening health scare. Before the frequent hospital visits and stints in rehab, there was five-year-old Matthew, who traveled from Montreal to Los Angeles, shuffling between his separated parents; fourteen-year-old Matthew, who was a nationally ranked tennis star in Canada; twenty-four-year-old Matthew, who nabbed a coveted role as a lead cast member on the talked-about pilot then called Friends Like Us. . . and so much more.
In an extraordinary story that only he could tell—and in the heartfelt, hilarious, and warmly familiar way only he could tell it—Matthew Perry lays bare the fractured family that raised him (and also left him to his own devices), the desire for recognition that drove him to fame, and the void inside him that could not be filled even by his greatest dreams coming true. But he also details the peace he’s found in sobriety and how he feels about the ubiquity of Friends, sharing stories about his castmates and other stars he met along the way. Frank, self-aware, and with his trademark humor, Perry vividly depicts his lifelong battle with addiction and what fueled it despite seemingly having it all.
Friends, Lovers, and the Big Terrible Thing is an unforgettable memoir that is both intimate and eye-opening—as well as a hand extended to anyone struggling with sobriety. Unflinchingly honest, moving, and uproariously funny, this is the book fans have been waiting for.”
Vince loves his Greatful Dead, and in particular this song. And now it’s been stuck in my head for days:
Coexist peacefully, with kindness and compassion for all!