Archive for the 'pantstributor' Category

Father and Son trips

Published by
Matt Gierhart
November 7, 2008 in pantstributor and voyages. 5 Comments

Normal Fridays at PoshDeluxe.com are reserved for interviews with the celebrities of pants world, but what happens when the interviewee interviews the interviewer and they are in London and don’t know who the interviewee and interviewer is? What happens then, oh they just sight see and enjoy father/sun bonding.

Gierhart FAMILY FATHER/SUN LONDON 2008

So let’s set the stage, my father (Mel Gierhart—see years 1989 through 1992) and I came up with this plan. He would quit his job and come backpack around London for a week with me. Well if you call backpacking eating amazing food and not backpacking at all.

So he did it, he quit his job (retired) and got on an airplane to London.

After a little confusion about meeting places (who would have thought there would be more than one McDonald’s in the train station, shows how much we know about McDonald’s). We began our tour of London.

I thought we would start with the London Eye, this is just a good view of the entire city. This way I could point and talk. We took pictures and examined the machinery that operates the eye. There are some optical illusions that take place as far as motion.

Just a warning there are a lot of tourist style pictures, because well we were tourists. Here’s another notable site:

It made it kind of fun because it was just the two of us and so many of the pictures are just one or the other posing in front of something. Which is such wonderful postcard material. I think for Christmas I’m going to collect all these photographs and make a little postcard book to give out. Here’s more:

London buses to me are just transportation. I forget they are iconic red double deckers that seem so foreign compared to other buses around the world. It felt a little strange to pose in front of one as I was reaching my head around to figure out which number it was.

In 2003, I was living in the Czech Republic because I do that. For Christmas my family decided to fly to Czech and spend it with me. That was no questions asked my favorite Christmas ever. But then I felt something that I felt this time with my dad as well, I was showing him around. I know the way things work and to a certain degree he is relying on me. My dad is very capable tourist and knows how to get around anywhere you drop him (you should see him navigate and memorize maps, it’s uncanny). But to have your parents rely on you to show them around puts you in instant grown up mode. And maybe more importantly it puts you and your parents on a peer level. So show him around I did:

Here’s the obligatory telephone booth shot, which took some convening to do.

After the photograph my dad responded that he couldn’t really see himself.

Parliament was evacuated when we tried to go in. We never did find out what happened, but we did notice that even the cooks were asked to leave. No one seemed to be in a panic.

While police and fire trucks went crazy dealing with the Parliament, my father had an ice cream in front of Westminster Abbey.

Mel’s Tourist tip #1: The Ice Cream at Westminster Abbey is better than the ice cream at Hampton Court.

We weren’t allowed to take pictures in front of the war room that Churchill conducted WW2 from, but I would like to list some interesting facts about the war room.

  1. They smoked a lot, I mean a lot. Every room, every desk had an ash tray. Mix that with the fact that they were in a basement with no circulation, I would have rather risked the Blitz than that cancer.
  2. Churchill would win arguments by pretending to be deaf and not hearing the opposition. It works, try it.
  3. WW2 was basically carried out on a Risk board

Another fun fact that my flatmate tells me is that Churchill’s statue (picture below) is electrified. This keeps the pigeons from sitting on it. Apparently, it was the only way he would agree to have a statue built of him.

The next day we toured the tower of London which was overtaken by peasants at one point, nice work English army.

We did get to see the crown jewels. No pictures allowed sorry. But I think I can describe them:

Then my dad took this picture:

You might think that this picture is kind of boring. But immediately after taking this picture my father was arrested and charged with terrorism. They threw him in the London tower and told him he would rot away. I scaled the tower and saved him with a sword fight to the death against a guard (thank goodness I did that training in the mountains of China).

Not really, but they did write him a warning ticket. Here is with the bobbies:

Note that woman’s teeth are G to the Ross. But another British stereotype I showed my dad, it’s all part of the English experience.

Then came the poshest experience of both my dad and mine life: seeing what a royal dinner looks like at Buckingham Palace. We didn’t get to eat, but the places were set and we listened to the effort that goes into having a state meal.

  • menus are planned 14 months in advance (the queen is very active in choosing the courses)
  • places are set 2 days in advance
  • vegetarian and vegan options are available
  • each guest has a little LED light that lights their plate
  • there are old fashion guards around the table
  • lots of secret passages are used so servants can get food in and out quickly

Again, no pictures allow. Its a theme.

Skipping of to Oxford for the day (check out Josh’s photo set) and a few other London sites we found our way to Hampton Court. I believe hampton court to be the best of the major tourist attractions. The gardens are sooooo beautiful.

What makes a beautiful garden an amazing garden is a hedge maze.

Matt’s travel tip: The Hedge Maze in Leed’s Castle is 1000x better than the one at Hampton Court.

Traveling alone with my dad was really cool because we don’t get too many times when it is just the two of us. Just hanging out and being friends and making jokes made overshadowed anything London had to offer.

In the end, my father had to leave and turn in his Oyster card.

We like to have this contest in our family to see who is the best or the favorite, something that allows one member to *temporarily* claim superiority over the others. My father and I were better than my sister and mom that week, it was easy.

A Halloween How To

Published by
meredith
October 13, 2008 in culturelux and pantstributor. 20 Comments

Hello friends! Guest blogger Meredith here with a topic that is very near and dear to my heart. Halloweeeeen!

Some of you may remember from my interview on this very blog that I LOVE dressing up in costume.

Take THAT, Harry Potter! Maleficent’s mighty staff dwarfs your puny wand! (Staff courtesy of Erin)

I also enjoy chocolate and have an affinity for fright. Therefore, Halloween is my religion. Halloween is my New Year’s Eve, Christmas, and birthday combined. Except for how I also celebrate those holidays.

I’ve enjoyed a lifelong mania for this least holy of days. (I asked my parents to provide me with some pictures of my childhood costumes as evidence, but they did not step up to the task. But here is some other cute kid in a costume! Pretend it’s me!)

You’re welcome, Sarah.

My mother once, in a gruesome display of maternal oversharing, told me that she believes my obsession is a result of having been conceived after a Halloween party where she went as a Playboy bunny (Mom! That information is utterly macabre. Also, please refer below to my Costume Guidelines) and my father went as a “flasher,” except under his trench coat he had a camera and would take pictures of fellow revelers. Clever, Dad! Mom, gross.

The point being, Halloween is in my bloooood. You simply cannot argue with genetic material. So I encourage the Posh Deluxe readership to take full advantage of my expertise. Sit back, relax and enjoy a guided tour down the ill-lit and fog-beset avenue to an ideal All Hallows Eve.

Continue reading ‘A Halloween How To’

Grandma Lorraine’s Guide to Life

Published by
artisterin
October 6, 2008 in pantstributor. 10 Comments

As much of an honor as it was to be interviewed by the delightful Posh in last month’s installation of “Day in the Pants,” it is comparably flattering to serve as guest contributor for the day. It didn’t take long to find inspiration for my entry. As I mentioned in my interview, the strangest and most sensational character in my life has always been my grandmother, otherwise known as “Crazy Jewish Grandma Lorraine.” In tribute to Grandma (and to my favorite writers, ex. David Sedaris, who chronicle their own family’s quirks), here are some of Grandma’s Greatest Hits:

The infamous crazy Jewish Grandma Lorraine in all her bleach-haired, sequined glasses wackadoo glory.

“Grandma Loves Chachi”

A few years ago, I called Grandma for one of our weekly chats (more commonly known in my family as “Helen’s Grandkids Call Her Every Day, So You Better Feel Guilty Enough to Call Me or Else You Will Be Cut from the Will”) when she casually brought up that friends of our family has bestowed on her the honor of being grandmother to their twin baby boys. (Note: This is also within the same year that Grandma called to tell me, on two separate occasions, that two completely unrelated people had named baby cows after her.)

As I began my pre-judgment of this decision, mentally weighing what life lessons my grandmother would pass along to these poor unsuspecting children, she informed me that the childrens’ godfather was none other than Scott Baio. “Um, like Chachi?” I asked in disbelief. Grandma reassured me that not only was it, in fact, THE Scott Baio of “Charles in Charge” fame, but that during the course of the bris, she and Mr. Baio became very good friends. Apparently at one point, Grandma even began espousing romantic advice (which is not entirely uncommon, just ask any single person who has been left alone with an elderly Jewish woman, regardless of whether or not you actually know said Jewish woman.). “I don’t like the blond girl he’s dating,” Grandma told me as though a) She knew Mr. Baio intimately and b) Someone had asked her opinion. “She’s just not good for him. I can tell.” (This is the kind of wisdom that gets cows named after you, folks.)

While years have passed, Grandma still maintains a close “relationship” (at least in her mind) with Scott Baio. I am already anticipating the great stories that will surely come when the two are present at the twins’ bar mitzvah. I can only hope for a karaoke duet of “Hava Nagila.”

“Why All the Waiters in California Hate Grandma Lorraine”

(and it’s not, as the Jewish stereotype would have you believe, that she doesn’t tip well.)

Unsweetened iced tea. An entire ramekin of Sweet n’ Low. Accompanied by another ramekin of lemons. A separate glass of nothing but ice. “And don’t forget the straw!” This is what Grandma orders to drink, without fail, whenever we go out to eat. It also bears mentioning that, by the end of said meal, 99% of the Sweet n’ Low ramekin will be unused, along with nearly every single lemon and, with the exception of a stray cube or two, the whole glass of ice. Why would you request all these extra items if you weren’t going to use them? “I just want what’s coming to me.” Grandma explains. (Note: Making waiters routinely schlep a trayful of unused iced tea accouterments surely means that she has other things coming to her besides Sweet n’ Low.)

Continue reading ‘Grandma Lorraine’s Guide to Life’

Far (and away) from home

Published by
jjharney
September 26, 2008 in culturelux and pantstributor. 11 Comments

Hello everyone!!

So, I am honoured (note the spelling) to be bringing you the poshdeluxe blog today. This is John by the way, and for those of you who don’t know, or more shamefully don’t read the site every single weekday and therefore may have missed my interview, I am pantsworld’s Irish delegate.

When Sarah asked me to contribute this week, I mulled over several ideas. In the end, I settled on the obvious one. What is it like for someone from a small country like Ireland to move to a place like Texas? Well. I’m glad you asked.

I should probably give a brief introduction to Irish society first. The weather is ‘temperate’ but everyone complains that it is cold and that it rains constantly. Guns are illegal, and you need a licence to own an air rifle. You can drive from bottom to top, from Cork to Belfast, in just over seven hours. You can drive across Ireland, from Dublin to Galway, in about three hours. Ireland is small, about a seventh the size of Texas. Most preconceptions of Irish people, particularly those in movies such as Angela’s Ashes or the movie I punned in the title of this post, are ridiculously off. But I’ve found there’s some truth to that in the other direction, too.

I had some preconceptions of my own about Texas before I got here, that fall into two general categories:

Texans like guns, and big things.

There are two types of Texans: cowboys and ‘earthy’ types.

I know this isn’t exactly fair. But being asked to express my concern at the possibility of my lucky charms being pilfered at every social event I attend isn’t fair either. It goes both ways. I will, however, admit that my second preconception needs a bit of explaining. I didn’t really think that every single Texan fit into either stereotype but I had the impression all the cool people Texas produces make a prompt effort to get out of Texas. To Irish people looking in on the 2004 presidential election, the fact there was a blue dot in amongst the red slipped our attention. Speaking of which, my Irish friends and I held a very dim view of what being a red state supposedly meant.

Add to this the fact that my first experience of Texas was the Dallas / Fort Worth Metroplex, where my hosts took me to places named Billy Bob’s and the like, and I was a little apprehensive coming to Austin. Thankfully though, I had completely underestimated the Texan population. It turns out that Texas is filled with cowboys, ‘earthy’ types, and hipsters.

And real people! Phew. In fact, Austin is a venerable menagerie of people. Ireland is a free society too, obviously, and I’ve yet to be really shocked by anyone in Austin, but everyone here is so lacking in self-consciousness. It’s fantastic, in various ways. And it made it clear very quickly it wasn’t fair to sort people into different categories on the basis of a soap opera from the 1980s and a woefully unsuccessful president. So, that preconception was fairly debunked for me, certainly as far as Austin is concerned. Now that I’m done with admitting I was wrong though, let’s quickly move on and look at where I was right: Texans like big stuff.

For a university sports game?

My Irish friends point blank refuse to believe that the University of Texas American football team plays in front of 98,000 people at home games. The parking spaces here are bigger. The roads are wider. The food comes in bigger portions. Televisions are bigger. There is more space. I have lived in Texas for more than two years and I can’t get over the scale of this place. People stopped driving on trips that took more than five hours in the 1970s, when the roads started getting better. I’m not sure I’ll ever see the three-hour drive to Dallas as a short trip.

And yes, people are into guns here. I got a real land on my first visit to Dallas, thanks to my father’s unique sense of humour. Let’s just say that my first trip to a Bass Pro Shop was memorable. I still notice the signs outside bars reminding people not to bring their guns in with them. I know that it’s not like everyone in the state is strolling around ‘toting weaponry, but it’s a good example of something I just cannot get used to. That and the fact so many Texans seem to think that refraining from drinking for the last thirty minutes of the evening makes them okay to drive.

This horrifies me.

I’m not going to get preachy though, not at all, and those of you who know me should know that I love living in Austin. Love love love it. Posh does a great job of covering all the things that make me love it here so much, and so you guys should be pretty familiar with the things I like in this city. So, in poshdeluxe fashion, let me ask you all, what do you think of the impressions I had of Texas before I got here? I know most of the regular posters here are Texan, so how do you see your state versus the Texan clichés we all know and love? What about you non-Texan Americans, how do you see Texas?

And to confirm, George Bush isn’t helping the state’s global image.

LINKS (Posh always has great links, so I felt I had to give it a shot)

It’s kind of weird to listen in on other people dissing someone behind his or her back, and even odder when that someone is Robert De Niro.

Oooms in the Netherlands have been selling arguably the coolest memory ‘sticks’ for a while now.

Mr T. saves his best work for snickers ads that only air in Europe.

 

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