Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Pacific Northwest Part 1: Sleepless in Seattle

Ok, so the title has less to do with the charms of the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport Holiday Inn than it does Rock's inability to come up with anything remotely witty... but hey, it got your attention. Ok it didn't. But let's face it, you're still gonna read this, because it still beats whatever else you had planned for your day.

Let's start things on familiar turf, shall we?

Every city has a chinatown, and every chinatown has a big gate. But how many have a dragon as well?

Hawking bubble teas in the land of Starbucks? Just make sure you don't step beyond the dragon gate.

Seattle has a bit of a thing for snazzy architecture. This is the new public library, which has some remarkably cool lines for a public building. It's almost like they realized you can't sell a city on Iced Venti Lattes alone. Although Mei would beg to differ.

The salubrious Fairmont Olympic Hotel. One glance at the price tag sends Rock scurrying for the nearest Travelodge.

Seattle's 5th avenue is where those who haven't frittered away all their savings at Starbucks shop. Needless to say, Mei won't be hitting Louis Vuitton.

The famous Pikes Place market occupies a spectacular piece of real estate perched over the Seattle harbor. Why they could almost cast a line right from the famous fish stall to reel in the day's catch.

What?! An alley with no Starbucks is like a J00ster post with no food.

It's hard to stand still for a quick snap when the aroma of steaming seafood is wafting this way.

Zhu meets zhu. I can see the family resemblance, can you?

If you can't, just wait for the lunch stop, then I'm sure you'll concur.

Anyone care to guess what's on the lunch menu?

Yeah, yeah, sure it's scenic and all, but where's my crab?


Incoming fried calamari! Someone has food on their mind.

It's waaaay better than Wholefoods. Primarily because you don't have to wait in a line that does a dead ringer approximation of a lissajous figure.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Actually no, it's just another lame pose for the J00ster cameras.

Q: What do modern sculptures and impersonating Egyptian hieroglyphics have in common? A: They both help kill time until it's time to eat crab.

It's a glorious day... to be eating crab!

Rock contemplates the deep questions in life. Should he order a crab steamed with ginger and shallots, or a salt and pepper crab. Or both.

Mei contemplates the deep questions in life. How can she stop Rock from getting the juiciest claw meat before she can.

Mei is hungy enough to fly right back up to the crab market.

Between stomach rumbles, there's time to capture a few shots of Seattle's picturesque harbor.


And finally, Zhu gets to do what a a zhu does best.

Look closely and you'll see the original Starbucks logo was a little more risque than today's mom, dad, and 2.4 kids version. Must have taken more than coffee beans to get the old sea salts to stop by after a long voyage.

The sights and sounds of the bustling market. But this being J00ster, it's really only the tastes that we care about.

Next stop, the grandiously named Space Needle. Perhaps back when Sputnik was humiliating a generation of American scientists building a 180m tall tower was an impressive feat, but these days it's looking just a little... well... short. Mei can almost jump over it.

Nonetheless, by cunningly placing the "tower" well away from the city and the plethora of nondescript skyscrapers that are actually taller than it, and by using the shortest model they could find to pose in front, the designers do manage to pull off the illusion of height. Sort of. You know, like when Mei tries to wear high heels.


Despite Rock's cyncial rants about the last relics of an empire in decline, the view from the top is not bad. Not bad at all in fact.

Why from up here all the other buildings do look short. Unlike Mei, who always looks short.

Look down there, another two cruise ships are disgorging their waddling cargo straight into the convenient dockside Starbucks.


The definition of long time, no see. 17 years is a long time between drinks, or rather kick the can games. Rock and James reminisce about old times. And new times. A lot happens in almost two decades.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Take me out to the ball game!

Gotta love the Big Apple in Autumn. On one side of town Federer and Del Potro are trading baseline blows, while out in the Bronx the mighty Yankees look to continue their league-leading run with a victory over the LA Angels. And out in Meadowlands Eli and the Giants are kicking their NFL season off with a win.

With a fastball like that, Joba Chamberlain better watch his spot on the rotation...

Stunning sunset in the Bronx. Things always look better from a brand new $1.5 billion stadium.

The gleaming new monument to the excesses of a team with a Goldman Sachs sized payroll. At least they still have peanuts and crackerjacks... to go with the organic fruit stand.


Let's play some ball!

Rock spends more time admiring the stadium, and misses another home run.

Derek Jeter is the Yankees. Some would say he is New York. Except today when he goes 0 for 3.

One of the greatest closers of all time in action - Mariano Rivera claims save number 40 as the Yankees shut down their west coast rivals.


"Ballgame over! Yankees win! Theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Yankees win!"

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Game, Set, Match, and Hotdog

A break in the autumn rain clouds is about as frequent as a break in Federer's serve here in the Big Apple, but fortunately the day of the 2009 US Open men's semifinals dawns warm and clear. Let's play some tennis!

But first, let's look at some random photos to set the scene.

Welcome to the US Open! Need I say more? Thankfully, no.

Time for a little celebrity spotting on the concourse of champions. Who's the babe in the hat? Must be a star from the Real Housewives of Wuhan.

The scene is set for two epic semifinals. Del Potro vs Nadal followed by Djokovic vs Federer. Followed by Rock vs Footlong Hotdog.

Wall of Champions. What does it take to get on this wall? Probably a bit more than a bit of free advertising for Continental.

The men's honor roll reads a bit like this blog. Same old, same old.

Before Serena's pleasantries, John McEnroe was considered the bad boy of center court.

Unless I'm very much mistake, Mr Bronze Dude in the background seems to have failed to take advantage of the numerous tennis gear shops around the grounds to kit himself out. Brings a whole new meaning to 'new balls please'. Fortunately for those readers who actually made it this far, Rock takes a much less Olympian approach to his game. In both senses of the word.

The cauldron of champions.

The stage is set. The ball boys are in position. The crowd is expectantly hushed. And most importantly, the ketchup is on the darn good crinkle fries they serve outside of gate 20.


Let the games begin! Nadal launches into his first serve of the match...

...but as things go on, it becomes clear that the time for another crinkly fry is now. Oh, and that Nadal is struggling valiantly with the stomach strain that has hampered him all tournament.

Forget Federer, forget Nadal, here comes the real star!

The brunch of champions.

Rock succumbs to the relentless marketing drive: if you dress like the stars, you'll play like the stars. Advantage Capitalism.

No way! It's the 42nd president of the United States of America! The crowds still love him.

Back to the action. Federer steps up with an incredible US Open record. The man just doesn't know how to lose here (disclaimer: most of this was written before the final)

Poetry in motion. The only poetry you'll get on this blog.

The roar of the crowd competes with the roar of twin turbofans every few minutes as another jet lines up for short finals to La Guardia.

The DirectTV blimp takes great delight in circling Rock's seat and launching an aerial bombardment of ridicule on those poor fools stuck with Time Warner Cable. You mean you can't watch eight football games simultaneously?!?

Apparently the dude in the hat and sunnies looking right this way is Justin Timberlake. Must be trying to work out who the cool chick in the hat is up there in the cheap seats.

Sunset over Arthur Ashe stadium. Magnificent.

He must get sick of doing post-victory interviews. There's only so many times you can laud your opponent for putting up a good fight before you just have to tell it like it is: everyone else sucks. Of course, the alternative is you can throw away the final...