“Where do you want to be on your birthday?” Alex asked in early June.
I honestly hadn’t even thought about it. I wanted a low-key day and to be outside, weather permitting. Anyone who gets worked up about their birthday past age 21 is a self-obsessed asshole. I wanted a very normal day, just the two of us.
We planned to be in Niagara Falls on my birthday, but a serious car repair held us up and we only made it as far as eastern New York by the 21st. The birthday locale of Niagara Falls became Scranton, PA, the setting of one of our favorite television shows, The Office, and home to the Harry Houdini Museum. I figured, if anything, it would certainly make for a memorable birthday, as there was the potential I could get sawed in half.
The museum advertised daily tours and magic shows, beginning with an overview of Houdini’s life and career as the greatest magician in the world. For years, the museum was in a brownstone in Manhattan’s Upper East Side, but when the landlord decided to nearly triple their rent, the curators searched for another, more affordable location. They decided on Scranton, as the northern Pennsylvania city was a major stop on Houdini’s tour circuit. The museum owns hundreds of Houdini artifacts — sets of locks and keys, tour posters, and even his straight jacket. At an auction several years ago, the museum acquired the portraits of Houdini’s parents that hung in his New York City home.
Houdini's parents. The recent acquisition of these thought-lost pictures was a source of pride for the museum.
Another recent acquisition, this from the home of one Jerry Sandusky.
The museum is run by two seasoned magicians, John Bravo and Dorothy Dietrich. Revered as “the first lady of magic.” Dietrich is a master escapologist. She can free herself from handcuffs and straightjackets, once slipping from a confines of a straightjacket at 15 stories high as she dangled from a burning rope. She was also the first woman to successfully perform the bullet catch, clutching a .22 caliber bullet in her mouth. The stunt has killed 12 men in the past. Not even Houdini would attempt the feat.
With gold-blonde hair and an infallible smile, Dorothy's long career is betrayed by her youthful looks. She is incredibly kind, and as Bravo showed us around the museum, Dorothy gave me a beaming smile and a, "Happy birthday!" I'm not one for big birthday embarrassment - the tiara, shot glass around the neck, being serenaded by a group of Applebee's waitresses? No, thanks. But this year, my birthday surprise was different. In the middle of the magic show, she called me onstage, introducing me to the audience as a disciple of magic myself. (Just to be clear, I couldn’t pull a card trick on a dog.)
I climbed onstage and was handed a red napkin which I was instructed to wave around in various motions as I danced. I can’t dance for shit, so my moves were punctuated by nervous, embarrassed laughter. With the simple placement inside a black velour bag and a few choice words, the paper napkin transformed into an origami rose. A few more words and the paper rose became a plastic rose, right in my hand. I couldn’t see how she did it, and it kind of scared me to have something in my hand suddenly become something else.
Then Dorothy told me to reach into the velour sack once more. I stuck my hand inside and pulled out a beautiful, white dove. It was only a few seconds after the bird was resting on my pointer finger that I felt something warm and wet in my hand. I looked down. The beautiful bird had pooped in my hand. I couldn’t fling it off in front of an audience, though there were a few kids in the front row who looked like they could have used it. There was nothing to wipe it on and no way to excuse myself to go to the bathroom to wash the watery shit off my palm. So I just stood there onstage, cupping the dove and my shit-filled hand, nervously grinning.
The bird was returned to its cage and I was dismissed from the stage with my two flowers. I sat back down, turned to Alex and opened my hand.
“What is that? Is that shit? Did the bird shit in your hand?”
We both laughed, mostly because I am exactly the kind of person who would hold a dove in a magic show on her birthday, only to have it drop a slimy turd into my hand.
After a child was levitated and a man split in two, the show concluded. We hung around to snap some photos and chat with Dorothy, who is one of the most genuine people I have ever met. It might sound like the perfect birthday for your average nine-year-old, but it was one of the most fun birthdays I’ve ever had. Even with the handful of shit.
When I first read online about the Marble Museum in Proctor, Vermont, I’m pretty sure I made the same face you make when the guy hanging out behind the 7-Eleven says he’s “just waiting for a friend.” In hindsight, I feel bad about it, but at the time, all I could think was “Wow. Really?” Maple syrup museum? Sure! I will come and learn about your most deliciously well-known export and sample until I drop. But marble? How completely wrong I was.
This entire building is decorated in marble: beautiful, smooth stone in a rainbow of colors, like what I assume P. Diddy’s house looks like, minus the guy he pays to hold his umbrella. The entryway and even the bathrooms are carved from locally-sourced marble in ivory and onyx.
Not a bad looking place to relieve yourself.
One gallery showcases regal cameos of all the nation’s former presidents up through George Bush Sr., carved out of chalky slabs by the museum's resident artist.
Abe "Freedom" Lincoln.
Dwight D. "you better shrink that military" Eisenhower.
Jimmy "Hero" Carter.
Another room was dedicated to all the products marble is used for other than to decorate courthouses and rich peoples’ bathrooms. It is crushed and used in tons of different medicines and goods that I have used for years, including the grenadine-red paint Alex and I used to decorate our apartment.
Marble from Vermont has been used to build the Jefferson Memorial, the US Supreme Court Building, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and a ton of other ridiculously important buildings in this country that I will never be allowed to set foot inside of. It was even used in Arlington Cemetery, where my maternal grandfather is buried. Thinking back on it, the front of his marker was made from marble.
The best thing in the marble museum is the gallery of marble from around the world. It displays giant sheets of marble from Georgia, Russia, Italy, all in different tints and textures. The gallery leads you into the museums’ crown jewels — an ultra-modern bathroom and enormous kitchen, crafted from marble. Of course, I proceeded to begin conducting my afternoon Food Network program Damn Good Eats inside this incredible kitchen.
Today we'll be making Fruity Pebbles and I'll show you how to heat up a can of soup.
This museum defied all preconceived notions about what an institution solely dedicated to the history and manufacturing of a single mineral could be. It was fascinating and completely unexpected, but therein lies the essence of this project.
Word to the wise: if you go, pack lunch. There isn’t a single place nearby to get a scrap of food.
There is no doubt in my mind that ice cream is the most perfect food with the ability to bring nations together and heal gaping wounds. Pizza is the only thing that comes close, but it is not a dessert, which immediately bumps it to the number two spot.
One of the biggest things to do in Vermont, besides drive a Subaru and wear pants that zip off at the knee, is go to the Ben & Jerry’s factory. It is a brightly-colored, ice-cream-themed paradise, with just the right amount of altruism thrown in the mix. Ben and Jerry’s really is a high-minded company that you can feel good throwing your money at, supporting their positive ideals while enjoying a scoop of Chubby Hubby. It’s a win-win for everyone, unless you suffer a lactose allergy, which in case you really lose.
Ben & Jerry's ice cream truck > all other food trucks.
The tour was super fast, no doubt because our peppy, teenage guide was hopped up on his seventh daily serving of Phish Food. The factory is impeccable and everything moves so quickly. It’s a wonder no one ever opened their pint, anticipating creamy vanilla ice cream and chunks of cookie dough, only to find sawdust and pieces of metal.
The best part of the Ben & Jerry’s factory tour, besides the free sample at the end, is the flavor graveyard. Every time the company retires a flavor because it was hated by the public or became too expensive to manufacture, it is interred in a plot for loved ones to mourn. We paid our respects to flavors past and decided to share our thoughts about which ones probably should have been resuscitated.
A.A.: Let's be real here. Pistachios are not nuts. They are not nuts because they do not taste like wood or dirt. That being said, I probably wouldn’t take Holy Cannoli ice cream, which is already heavy, and fill it with nuts. Let cannoli be incredible all on its own! They did recently resurrect a version of cannoli ice cream sans nuts, so I’ll quit complaining.
A.D.: Wait - ricotta flavored ice cream and pistachio flavored ice cream? With pistachios in the ice cream...that's too much. Take out the pistachio ice cream, throw in some orange zest and we'll talk. That said, my dad would love this.
A.A.: I don't really understand sweet cream ice cream. Isn't it just vanilla? I blame Coldstone Creamery. Regardless, I would go for this, especially because of the fudge dinosaurs. A.D.: This is chocolate lover's ice cream, only the ice cream isn't chocolate. If I were needing a serious chocolate fix, I want to go all out, none of this wimpy "sweet cream" bullshit.
A.A.: This guy deserves his own ice cream flavor. He is the real deal, unlike other hippie activists who sold out in 1972 and now work for Fortune 500 companies. That being said, this might not have been the flavor combination I designated for such a figure. Nuts are austere. Wavy Gravy is rainbow sherbet with flecks of weed mixed in. Also, Brazil nuts are expensive, which is why I think they discontinued this nut-filled flavor. A.D.: Yeah, when I think of the King Hippie from Woodstock, I can't imagine his ice cream flavor being nuts, caramel, and fudge. And Brazil nuts taste like tree bark - the Hell with that! And yes please to the rainbow sherbet with flecks of weed mixed in!
A.A.: I would eat the shit out of this. Whiskey in ice cream? Yes, please. I can see how this might upset the teetotalers, even though there’s probably more alcohol in children’s cough medicine than in this. A.D.: Whiskey, with milk and sugar? Sounds like one of the worst ways to get drunk, but at least your vomit will be cold and creamy. This simply suffers from having too many ingredients - coffee and whiskey? Good. Coffee and Amaretto? Good. Coffee and almonds? Well, I guess. Coffee with Amaretto, whiskey, and almonds - but no fudge swirl? Nah, I'm good.
A.A.: Why did this one have to die? Its such a beloved flavor combination. Cashews are another nut, like pistachios, that is not a nut. Again, no suckage. Rise, Turtle Soup, rise. A.D.: Do you think Mark Volman and Howard Kaylan could throw their endorsement behind this? It sounds great.
A.A.: This one sounds delicious, like John Cleese in a dress. Coffee liqueur, fudge, and cookies. Might as well be called Breakfast of Champions.
A.D.: This sounds like a good flavor, and yes, it definitely sounds like a typical Saturday morning breakfast for us in our Crescent Street days, but what's the Python connection? The cows from Holy Grail? They should have gone crazy and done something like "Norwegian Blue Parrot Droppings," "Spanish Inquisition Velvet," or, fuck it, Spam.
A.A.: If a Ben & Jerry’s chipwich can die, nothing is safe. I used to eat these things of the beach when I was a kid and dip them in sand for extra texture. I was a weird kid. A.D.: This flavor just sounds boring. Just go buy a damn chipwich.
A.A.: I am sensing a trend. I do not think America likes nuts. I think at one point in time, nuts on ice cream were really popular, but now we just want things like bacon and Twinkies and straight up Crisco in our ice cream. A.D.: Nuts are also stupid expensive. But seriously, this is the third flavor with pistachios and almonds together - did Ben & Jerry accidentally purchase a warehouse filled with pistachios and almonds that they needed to offload on an unsuspecting public?
A.A.: This one just sounds ridiculously expensive to make. Brazil nut butter AND macadamia nuts? $$$. A.D.: It also just doesn't sound good.
A.A.: Because no one is going to bother with cookie dough ice cream that only has half the fat. Silly.
A.D.: But think of the probiotics! They keep you regular!
A.A.: This flavor was designed for girls who just got dumped. Too sad. They should have just hidden a tiny bottle of merlot at the bottom like a prize in your cereal box. That might have sold better. A.D.: Ah, but there are two mistakes here - using Low Fat ice cream (D.B.A.P.)* and the inclusion of white chocolate. White chocolate isn't chocolate - it is sugary wax.
A.A.: This one just does not sound good. Caramel and plum? That sounds like bad fruitcake that your relatives who hate you mail at Christmastime that you take one bite of before giving to your dog. A.D.: Or my dad would quietly finish it sometime around January 15th. This has his name written all over it.
A.A.: Boring. A boring nut in a boring flavor of ice cream. Even being covered in chocolate could not save poor Ethan. RIP. A.D.: Zzzzzzzzzzz............
A.A.: As much as I love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, I cannot get behind peanut butter and jelly flavored things. If I want that flavor, I will make myself a sandwich, and that will be that. A.D.: This is overkill. Now, Fluffernutter ice cream I could get behind.
A.A.: This one sounds good! Non-offensive and interesting enough to keep my attention through an entire carton. Can we bring this one back? A.D.: White chocolate again? D.B.A.P., Altman.
A.A.: A good idea that was executed terribly. Why was this not sweet potato ice cream with marshmallow and cinnamon swirls and graham cracker pieces? That would have been awesome! Someone call B&J. Tell them they did this one wrong. They can pay me later. A.D.: Ginger ice cream with a fudge swirl? That's not right at all. How about sweet potato flavored ice cream, for a start? It should also come with a flavor packet of either turkey drippings, gravy, or green bean juice that you can pour on top so it tastes like a chaotic Thanksgiving platter.
A.A.: Woa. I had to read the description of this one twice. Too much going on here. Pick an idea, dudes. A.D.: Stopped reading it halfway through.
A.A.: I swear the last time I went to buy ice cream, they had this one in the store. What happened? It was good, guys! A.D.: That was also at the Astoria Food-Hole, which had foodstuffs dating back to the Bush Administration. This flavor rocked, but I guess it's just too hoity-toity for Joe Six Pack. And by hoity-toity, I mean French. These colors don't run!
A.A.: I think that Brazil nut butter is a death sentence. A.D.: Never mind that it probably just tastes like sawdust in gel form.
A.A.: This sounds just ok. Not great, but not something that makes me want to burn off my taste buds either. They don't often do a strawberry ice cream, so I would have given this a fair try. A.D.: They should do another British flavor. This is not British - this isn't even what Americans think British ice cream might taste like. How about Earl Grey ice cream? Or - hear me out - something...Monty Python-themed?
A.A.: I never really crave the taste of pear. It is kind of dull and mealy. I do not think I would like it in ice cream form. The almonds and fudge do nothing to entice me either. A.D.: Again with the god-damned almonds! Give it a rest, Ben and Jerry - WE DON'T LIKE ALMONDS! This would have been a lot better - potentially, at least - if it had a ginger and/or raspberry swirl.
A.A.: Again, so benign! Peanut butter and fudge. How did people not love this! A.D.: The name probably frightened most white people.
A.A.: Another flavor that was poorly executed. It probably should have been more pie-like, instead of like a straight up fruit. Remember, healthy is a curse among ice cream. A.D.: This got revamped into being a Willie Nelson-themed peach ice cream with pie crust and cinnamon. It's way better.
A.A.: The Dude would be so pissed to see his signature cocktail croaked in ice cream form. I don’t think America likes booze-flavored ice cream, or at least people who buy ice cream do not want alcohol anywhere near their dessert, which is surprising seeing as 30 percent of Americans are raging booze hounds. A.D.: Ice cream and booze don't mix. If you think so, you are clearly underage, so hand over the bottle and we'll forget this ever happened. The flavor itself is coffee-on-coffee. Doesn't work - throw in some chocolate. (Or, hey, let's be really original here - how about some almonds?)
A.A.: Walnuts are an immediate deterrent for me. But an ice cream laden with expensive nuts does not sound supper economically savvy.
A.D.:
A.A.: Why did it have to be a sorbet? This probably could have worked otherwise. A.D.: Something for the lactose-intolerant crowd? Chocolate doesn't work in sorbet form. Also, what is "light" chocolate?
A.A.: Why did this not survive? It sounds so good I want a bucket of it immediately! Cookie Dough is their best-selling ice cream. Are people prejudiced against peanut butter? A.D.: They should resurrect this in Washington and Colorado, like, immediately.
A.A.: Whoopie pies themselves are ultra-regional and just ok. I can see how the exoticness of the whoopie pie and the sexual undertones behind the name might turn some people off. A.D.: Or on.
A.A.: This one is just too all over the place. I can see it working better without the peanuts. Caramel corn ice cream is definitely something I would try. A.D.: Ew. Just...ew.
A.A.: This is a sorbet that I can see working because its fruity and refreshing, how sorbet should be. My brother once ate 40 passionfruits in one sitting. I bet he would have liked this one. A.D.: But it's not just passion fruit - it's "other natural flavors." Remember the Haagen-Dazs "Five" ice creams, the ones that boasted only five ingredients - one of their flavors was passion fruit, and it was amazing. It doesn't need to be sorbet, and it doesn't need to be mixed with berries and "other natural flavors." #DBAP
A.A.: I love blueberry anything, pie, beer, whatever. I totally would have eaten this. Frequently. A.D.: If only this were still around.
In researching the seemingly uncharted northern half of Maine, we discovered that Aroostook County - a landmass that occupies more square miles than Connecticut and Rhode Island combined - contains one of the country’s only Swedish settlements, the aptly named New Sweden. Most residents of the enormous county are of French ancestry (Acadians), but this one tiny hamlet has a predominantly Swedish population.
"It's only natural" might be the best location slogan ever.
New Sweden’s population has dwindled greatly in recent years. Many of the homes have been abandoned and left to rot under moss and fallen branches. We averaged at least a quarter (maybe even more) of the homes were up for sale. This isn’t isolated just to New Sweden; in fact, this seemed to pepper most of Northern Aroostook. For such a large section of land, it has been woefully overlooked, and its economic structure is suffering greatly for it.
New Sweden’s historical museum, overseen by an elderly woman, contains artifacts and memorabilia owned by its earliest settlers — baby shoes, traditional dresses, suitcases, and musical instruments, all in absolutely beautiful condition. The building is filled with hundreds of pieces, laid out more like someone’s messy bedroom than a museum. It is almost impossible to see everything unless you shuffle items around and pull things out of cabinets, both of which are strongly discouraged.
That didn’t stop us from poking around. Underneath the shelf of musical instruments (including a bizarre two-sided violin), he pulled out a white cardboard box and cracked open the lid.
“Holy shit! You have to see this.”
Inside were literally dozens of perfectly preserved wax cylinders, including one of The Passing Show of 1912, all from the Vaudeville era of popular song. One of Alex’s friends and former teachers at Brooklyn College is literally the only scholar in the country who specializes in this time period of popular song.
Recognizing its value, both for research and historical purposes, he said, “These should be in an archive, not rotting away in a box in this town with 450 people.”
When we went downstairs, Alex spoke with the curator, identifying himself as a music historian (he always jokes about the rare occasion he gets to say he is a musicologist) very interested in the wax cylinders upstairs. At first, the lady wasn’t sure what he was talking about. After she finally remembered, she said their museum was keen on hanging onto them. Their reason? “Every now and again, a school group comes by and we’ll play one for them.” Deflated, Alex still left his full contact info, providing the names of several music archives and archivists who would be very interested in acquiring the wax cylinders.
Three months have passed since our visit, and as of this writing Alex has yet to hear back.
Just recently, we met up with Alex’s friend who specializes in popular music from the 1910’s, Dr. Jonas Westover. When Alex shared this story with Jonas, after telling him the old lady’s rationale for hanging onto boxes of wax cylinders, Jonas stopped him and said, “Wait a second - those cylinders are playable?!”
“In pristine fucking condition.”
Jonas shared in our pain.
Back to June: As we left New Sweden, we thought about all the similar museums we had seen on our trip so far. Many of them receive funding from local, state, or even federal sources. This museum seemed to be run by a local historical society. There was so much history, preserved so poorly. An institution like this in such a sparsely populated region could very well die with its curators, the contents sold at auction for a pittance, winding up in someone’s curio cabinet instead of an archive.
