Chinese food, the Queens Museum, and good conversation

Moshe invited people to get together for dim sum before his monthly salon. This is usually fun and tasty, so I went.

The announced special guests were Kate (see Friday) and David, in from Portland. L's hinted-at special guest was Jon Singer (she'd named no names, but the last time she'd brought an unnamed extra for Chinese food, it was Singer). I got to sit at lunch between David and Singer, and we had fun making bad jokes and talking about food and eating lots of good things, everything from the familiar sticky rice and eggplant stuffed with shrimp, and seconds and thirds on the jar leung and hargow, to a couple of episodes of "what is that? I don't know. Let's get some!" That got us some interesting flat things with shrimp and corn inside, and one truly weird concoction: it was vaguely carrot-shaped, complete with a bit of parsley to serve as a stem, but closer to strawberry colored. They turned out to be an odd chewy outside, with a sweet peanut filling inside. Not quite my thing, but Singer was delighted and they were just odd and weird. Singer also insisted that he owed me for lunch at Aquavit last Minicon, which left him paying my dim sum bill and handing me another $5. Then, while we were catching our breath outside, he slipped me and Kate bits of Earl Grey flavored chocolate (much like what papersky gave me for Christmas).

Kate and David wanted to see the Panorama of New York City, a survival of the 1964 World's Fair, and womzilla was interested and willing to drive. He had an extra space in the car, so I went along. I hadn't been there since, oh, probably grade school, and I'd forgotten how cool it is. It fills most of the Queens Museum, and you walk around the edges and look at the different bits of city model. It's supposed to have a model of every building in New York City, though I spotted one omission--our Urban Ecology Center--and Womzilla noticed a factory that has been demolished but is still modeled.

That's not the point. The point is that it's detailed enough that you can notice such errors. We wandered around and enjoyed the day-night cycles they play with: some buildings and, for some reason, most of the park areas are painted in ultraviolet, so they glow under the black lights. We found where we were, pointed out bits of the city, and discussed suspension bridges, parks, and the way people build neighborhoods. We also pointed out to the guide/staff member that two of the building models had fallen over, a bit south of the George Washington Bridge.

When we'd had our fill of the Panorama, we looked at the Tiffany lamp exhibit. They don't have a lot of lamps, but the exhibit includes models showing how they were made. Then we looked at the World's Fair exhibit, which covers both the 1939 and 1964 Fairs, with souvenirs, posters, and discussions. Since we were there, we also walked around the Unisphere. It was odd seeing the area effectively empty, but of course I wasn't usually there on chilly March days when I was going to that park with my parents.

When we got to Moshe's, he asked me what had taken us two hours, and I explained that we'd gotten lost in the 1939 World's Fair.

I spent the afternoon drinking tea and talking to friends about this and that--food and families and bad theatre. Then the subject of dinner came up, and we decided that Chinese is always good, so we went back to downtown Flushing, this time for Szechuan food. I stopped between the bus ride and the restaurant and got a crate of clementines. I'd more or less given up for the year, but was still automatically scanning greengrocers' displays, and there they were, $5 for a box of decent-looking fruit. Somehow it seems fitting, walking through Chinatown for dinner with snow falling, that I was able to buy clementines. So far, one has served to revive Sharon, who was looking wiped out while we were ordering dinner, and one was part of this morning's breakfast.

I also saw a cherry tree in bloom, and the dwarf irises I planted at Moshe's a few years back are in bloom.

Chinese food, the Queens Museum, and good conversation

Moshe invited people to get together for dim sum before his monthly salon. This is usually fun and tasty, so I went.

The announced special guests were Kate (see Friday) and David, in from Portland. L's hinted-at special guest was Jon Singer (she'd named no names, but the last time she'd brought an unnamed extra for Chinese food, it was Singer). I got to sit at lunch between David and Singer, and we had fun making bad jokes and talking about food and eating lots of good things, everything from the familiar sticky rice and eggplant stuffed with shrimp, and seconds and thirds on the jar leung and hargow, to a couple of episodes of "what is that? I don't know. Let's get some!" That got us some interesting flat things with shrimp and corn inside, and one truly weird concoction: it was vaguely carrot-shaped, complete with a bit of parsley to serve as a stem, but closer to strawberry colored. They turned out to be an odd chewy outside, with a sweet peanut filling inside. Not quite my thing, but Singer was delighted and they were just odd and weird. Singer also insisted that he owed me for lunch at Aquavit last Minicon, which left him paying my dim sum bill and handing me another $5. Then, while we were catching our breath outside, he slipped me and Kate bits of Earl Grey flavored chocolate (much like what papersky gave me for Christmas).

Kate and David wanted to see the Panorama of New York City, a survival of the 1964 World's Fair, and womzilla was interested and willing to drive. He had an extra space in the car, so I went along. I hadn't been there since, oh, probably grade school, and I'd forgotten how cool it is. It fills most of the Queens Museum, and you walk around the edges and look at the different bits of city model. It's supposed to have a model of every building in New York City, though I spotted one omission--our Urban Ecology Center--and Womzilla noticed a factory that has been demolished but is still modeled.

That's not the point. The point is that it's detailed enough that you can notice such errors. We wandered around and enjoyed the day-night cycles they play with: some buildings and, for some reason, most of the park areas are painted in ultraviolet, so they glow under the black lights. We found where we were, pointed out bits of the city, and discussed suspension bridges, parks, and the way people build neighborhoods. We also pointed out to the guide/staff member that two of the building models had fallen over, a bit south of the George Washington Bridge.

When we'd had our fill of the Panorama, we looked at the Tiffany lamp exhibit. They don't have a lot of lamps, but the exhibit includes models showing how they were made. Then we looked at the World's Fair exhibit, which covers both the 1939 and 1964 Fairs, with souvenirs, posters, and discussions. Since we were there, we also walked around the Unisphere. It was odd seeing the area effectively empty, but of course I wasn't usually there on chilly March days when I was going to that park with my parents.

When we got to Moshe's, he asked me what had taken us two hours, and I explained that we'd gotten lost in the 1939 World's Fair.

I spent the afternoon drinking tea and talking to friends about this and that--food and families and bad theatre. Then the subject of dinner came up, and we decided that Chinese is always good, so we went back to downtown Flushing, this time for Szechuan food. I stopped between the bus ride and the restaurant and got a crate of clementines. I'd more or less given up for the year, but was still automatically scanning greengrocers' displays, and there they were, $5 for a box of decent-looking fruit. Somehow it seems fitting, walking through Chinatown for dinner with snow falling, that I was able to buy clementines. So far, one has served to revive Sharon, who was looking wiped out while we were ordering dinner, and one was part of this morning's breakfast.

I also saw a cherry tree in bloom, and the dwarf irises I planted at Moshe's a few years back are in bloom.

In case anyone was wondering

I am nobody's minion (the pay is lousy and the life expectancy ditto), nor am I part of a posse (the local police department doesn't need my creaky help). I have friends and family, and a large number of acquaintances and people-I-talk-to and neighbors and second cousins. All that good stuff.

In case anyone was wondering

I am nobody's minion (the pay is lousy and the life expectancy ditto), nor am I part of a posse (the local police department doesn't need my creaky help). I have friends and family, and a large number of acquaintances and people-I-talk-to and neighbors and second cousins. All that good stuff.