Frigid adventure into the Canadian Rockies

Brothers and I trekking into Johnston Canyon.

My brothers and I were carefully making our way across Abraham Lake in the Canadian Rockies on the North Saskatchewan River in western Alberta. Now that’s a sentence I didn’t think I’d ever write!

The lake, Alberta’s largest reservoir, was a frigid expanse of ice stretching to the distant horizon. The temperature was hovering in the mid-teens but thanks to a strong breeze and Mother Nature’s sense of whimsy the mercury felt like it was dipping into negative territory. No problem.

We were mostly prepared for the harsh winter weather that blankets the area around Banff National Park, in fact had been getting ready for a month or two after I messaged my brothers — Gary, Larry and Ian — that I was bored and it was time to plan another wintry adventure.

I suggested Banff. My brothers foolishly agreed.

Searching for bubbles on Abraham Lake.

That’s how we ended up standing on a sheet of ice in search of bubbles — yes, bubbles — filling up the Canadian freezer we were slipping and sliding on during day two of our trip. The bubbles, a dazzling maze of whitish goop held tightly in an icy embrace, are actually frozen pockets of methane gas.

They were just one of the natural wonders and highlights of a day-long mountain photo tour that included stops at a number of iconic spots filled with the heady and awe-inspiring handiwork of Mother Nature and her magical elves — thanks and a tip of the cap to Nick, our splendid guide and photographic guru.

My brothers, all talented photo hobbyist, were weighted down with 20 to 30 pounds of cameras and equipment — extra lenses and polarizing filters, spare batteries and memory cards, remote shutter releases, lens cleaning kits and tripods. I was lugging around an iPhone 11 that weighs in at a tortuous 7.97 ounces! Okay, their photos are probably better composed and a bit more focused and colorful then mine. My arms and back, however, didn’t ache at the end of the day and, to tell the truth, my pictures were just fine!

Stupendous sunrise at Vermillon Lake.

The trip was a memorable, at times spiritually-rich exploration of the wondrous and beautiful gifts in the world if you’re out and about and looking in the right direction. When resting, we camped out in a three bedroom, three-and-a-half bath Airbnb in Canmore, about an hour west of Calgary and 20 or so minutes outside the city of Banff.

We mostly stayed busy driving around Banff National Park, staring somewhat slack-jawed at the snow-capped peaks and pristine valleys that are as ubiquitous in the Canadian Rockies as billboards and pine trees are along I-75 in South Georgia.

Our first road trip found us knee deep in ice and snow at Johnston Canyon, a 30-minute drive north of Banff on the Trans-Canada Highway. The popular site features overhanging Canyon walls and dense vegetation, worn trails, steel catwalks, and a challenging three-mile hike — out and back — to a distant waterfall that during the winter months is transformed into a stunning tower of ice.

Canadian-Pacific train chugging through Morant's Curve.

Three of us managed the trek and were rewarded with spectacular scenery and the chance to watch several ice climbers scale the upper falls.

A day later we were up before the crack of dawn to begin our photo tour of the region. We began the outing at Vermillon Lake to watch the sun rise. We weren’t disappointed. The sun, literally and poetically, brushed the sky with lovely streaks of, wait for it, vermillon.

It was spectacular and an auspicious beginning to a journey brimming with aching beauty that filled both our hearts and cameras with delight. It was also chilly — very chilly!

To battle the elements I wore a base layer of merino wool underwear, a flannel shirt, fleece vest, thermal snow pants and socks, quilted puffer jacket, balaclava and woolen beanie. Finally, after pulling on a pair of Merrill Thermo Chill Mid-Waterproof boots, I was good to go. And go we did.

Trekkers hiking across Bow Lake and the Wapta Icefield.

Most of the day we spent on the Trans-Canada and Icefields Parkways, surrounded by the natural beauty of the Canadian Rockies at a dozen or so stops, including Castle Mountain and Lake Minnewanka, Morant Curve and Lake Louise, Bow Lake, the Wapta Icefield and Howse Pass between Mount Conway and Howse Peak.

Each spot was filled with a preternatural beauty, hard to define and impossible to capture. It was something to be felt and experienced, like a soft breeze in early spring or the stirrings of first love.

Norman Maclean, one of my favorite authors, once wrote about the same idea in much more poetic fashion.

“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.”

Me, too.

Getaway to Beantown a chilly, tasty delight

Boston harbor, downtown goes dark as sun sinks below the horizon. 

After a torrid summer and early fall, Wendy and I thought a quick getaway up north might be just what the doctor ordered. So I booked a longish weekend in Boston and we both agree it was a cool -- at times frigid -- way to spend a few days.

Despite Mother Nature's blustery and chilly hello, we managed to crisscross much of the central city, from Back Bay, through downtown into the North End. We also made our way to Cambridge and spent a few hours mostly exploring Harvard on a free walking tour that offered a decent overview of the university and surrounding area.

When not checking out the sights -- Faneuil Hall and the Old State House, Beacon Hill, the Freedom Trail and Boston Common -- we were probably eating! There were quick bites and sweet nibbles, most notably at Boston Chowda in Faneuil Hall -- corn chowda for Wendy and lobster bisque for moi -- and Mike's Pastry in the North End. Can you say cannoli? How about whoopie pie?

Mike's Pastry, an iconic bakery in Boston's North End.

We also managed a couple of leisurely and lavish meals, in and around our hotel just across from Copley Square, at Legal Seafood and Joe's American Bar and Grill. We discovered the restaurants on an earlier trip to the city and found them just as good and tasty this time around.

Truth to tell, much of the fun on this short getaway was simply moving around the city, making our way from here to there. Being out and about in the heart of Boston, a most walkable place, we were able to enjoy the crisp, colorful last days of fall up close and personal.

When we needed to venture further afield there was a subway station -- the Back Bay stop on the city's "T" -- only a block or so from our hotel. The train was clean, comfortable and easy to use.

Out and about and on our way to see "Come From Away".

And while we're on the topic of public transport, the Massachusetts Transit Authority (MTA) offers a free shuttle from Logan International Airport that dropped us off only a block or so from our hotel. The shuttle back to the airport costs a paltry $3 but we were both surprised and delighted to learn that the fee is waived for seniors!

We saved a bunch of money riding the shuttle and -- good news alert -- were also escorted to the front of the security line when we reached the airport, just another perk for using mass transit.

After all the dashing about -- and eating -- and in search of something a bit more relaxing and sedentary, Wendy and I were pleasantly surprised to learn that Boston has an active and vibrant theater scene.

The Old State House in Downtown Boston.

We snagged a couple of tickets for one of our favorite shows, "Come From Away", that was finishing up a month-long run at the Citizens Bank Opera House, aka The Boston Opera House.

We first saw the musical when it opened on Broadway and can happily report that the play and players in Boston captured the same magic and vibe that's made the show a rousing success across the nation.

It remains funny and sad and offers up both a toe-tapping good time along with a timeless and pleasing message of what can happen when a community pulls together to offer aid and comfort to people in need.

The show, along with the historical and natural beauty of the city, tasty meals and snacks, a public transport system that's fast, clean and affordable and Mother Nature's pleasing, if chilly embrace made our little outing something we'll be recalling fondly in coming months. We'll be back!

Why did the little boy ask why and then why again?

Avi wants to know the "why" of just about everything these days.

Avi, my three-year-old grandson, has recently launched into the "Why" stage of life. So he's wondering now why the sky is blue and water wet, why the sun is hot and ice is cold.

Curiosity is a good thing, but when every explanation is met with a question it all can be a little, er, annoying. Fortunately, the why of life can also be funny.

Here's a mostly true conversation Avi and I had just the other day:

Avi: What happened to your hair, Pops?
Pops: It fell out.
Avi: Why?
Pops: Because I got old..
Avi: Why?
Pops: Because I wanted to stick around so I could play with you.
Avi: Why?
Pops: Because you're so darn cute.
Avi: Okay ... gimme a cookie.
Pops: Why?

Leaping into the future with Bailey and Avi

2019 edition of the grandchildren.

I blinked and my grandchildren leaped into the future, Bailey heading off to Kindergarten this week and Avi back to preschool. Because their mom -- my daughter, Lauren -- teaches in a nearby elementary school, all of them are now together under the same roof.

Lauren spends her days teaching kids with special needs while Bailey and Avi spend their time showing off just how special they are. Hey, I'm their Pops so I have the right to pop off every now and again!

Truth to tell, the kids are absolutely normal. They run around and play, manage to get into stuff that often drives me bonkers -- why do the kids put beans in their ears? -- and often fight with one another like cats and dogs.

They also both remain pure spirits with hearts of gold, filled with the innocence of youth and unconditional love.

Avi: Always smiling and ready for fun.

After a morning that had me thinking it would be easier to herd a bunch of cats then control my grandkids at play, I finally managed to get Avi into his crib for a nap. As I went to close the door, Avi called out that he wanted a hug. He wrapped his little arms around my neck, then kissed me on the cheek before settling down with a contented smile across his face. A moment later he was asleep.

I then got Bailey to quiet down by handing her my iPad. As she got comfy on a couch in our den, happy to spend some quality time on YouTube, I was thinking I might grab a quick nap.

Bailey: Now in kindergarten and ready to read.

Bailey had other ideas.

"Pops", she called out, "won't you come snuggle with me?" And that's how I got to spend some quality time with my granddaughter and JoJo Siwa -- trust me, JoJo is very big with 5-year-old girls.

In a world that often seems turned upside down, at times dark and troubling, Bailey and Avi provide a measure of light. It might seem counterintuitive, but with all their ranbunctious play and zest for life, they offer up an island of calm, a sense of normalcy ... hope.

And isn't that the way it should be with all of God's children?

Back to New York and Into the Heart of Darkness

Times Square goes dark after power outage in Midtown Manhattan.

Wendy and I had much to cheer about during a recent trip to New York.

Two musicals, "Tootsie" and "The Prom", had us and a few thousand other folks on our feet applauding while Billy Joel enjoyed much the same response from 20,000 fans -- that would include Wendy and me -- attending a concert at Madison Square Garden.

But the loudest and most enthusiastic cheers came when the lights flashed on across an expansive swath of Manhattan where we spent an interesting couple of hours in the dark. We weren't alone!

Tens of thousands of tourists and locals, in one of the most densely populated areas of the country, were caught off guard when a transformer blew in Midtown and the lights of the city blinked off and stayed off for nearly five hours.

Made it to Nathan's ... Hot diggity dog!

A Jennifer Lopez concert at Madison Square Garden was abruptly stopped, thousands of fans forced to make their way through the darkened structure onto Sixth Avenue. Shows in the theater district were canceled and tourists with rooms in Times Square's towering hotels were stranded at street level. The outage slowed or stopped subways throughout Manhattan, with ripple effects in the outer boroughs and, just as troubling, street lights and traffic signals across a 60-block area west of Fifth Avenue blinked, grew dim and went dark.

As luck would have it, Wendy and I were on a walking tour of Midtown when first word of the blackout reached us. Since it was still light, we didn't notice anything unusual. After all, unusual is the norm in the Big Apple, ground zero for all things bizarre!

We had arrived in the city a few days earlier and stayed busy eating our way across Manhattan at a few of our favorite spots -- Ben's Kosher Deli in Midtown and Rafele's and S'Mac in Greenwich Village. We also booked several tours -- NBC Studios at Rockefeller Center and Grand Central Terminal, the High Line in Chelsea and, as mentioned earlier, an evening walking tour of Midtown.

We even managed to make it out to Coney Island -- 45 minutes away by subway -- where we took in the sights, including a visit to Nathan's for a little nosh!

Spent some quality time with the on-air talent of the Today Show at NBC.

A few hours later, just outside Grand Central Terminal, the first stop on our walking tour of Midtown, I received a text detailing a possible problem in the area. Our guide Nick was also getting news of the blackout and was trying to figure out the best and safest way to proceed.

Eventually we made it to the southern fringes of Times Square. The block we were on was filled with tourists and all appeared light and bright. But a block north the area seemed swallowed up in a black hole that grew ever darker in the far distance.

Naturally, Wendy and I left the group and immediately headed off into the heart of darkness. Our journey began around 5th Avenue and 42nd Street. There was a smattering of light and people as we trudged toward our hotel, The Warwick, on 6th Avenue and 54th Street.

Blackout hit just moments after we explored Grand Central Terminal.

The only real problem we encountered was when we got to 45th Street. That's where the traffic lights began failing. For the rest of our hike home it became a bit of a challenge simply to make it across each intersection.

We were in total darkness -- the sort of I can't see my hand in front of my face darkness -- after turning onto 54th Street, just a block or so from our hotel. Once there, we made it into the lobby, filled with hot and frustrated tourists all quivering and softly aglow from the light given off by dozens of candles strategically placed about the room.

After quizzing the desk staff -- no, there was nothing new to report and, yes, we could climb nine flights of stairs to our room but, no, that wouldn't be a good idea -- we grabbed a couple bottles of tepid water and made the strategic decision to wait out the blackout on the street.

Coverage in the NY Post.

And that's exactly what we did, along with a few thousand other folks unable or unwilling to make it up to their rooms. Mostly we stayed busy on our phones tracking down the latest news and sharing bits of information with strangers sharing info with us. The good news is most everyone remained calm and in reasonably good spirits despite the hot and humid weather.

It would take another couple hours before the power grid was completely rebooted and Wendy and I made it up to our room. We had just enough time to pack, get a couple hours of sleep, clean up and head to the airport.

By the time we made it back to Atlanta, the city that never sleeps was rubbing the sleep from its metaphorical eyes and opening up for business once again.

Exploring the left coast aboard the Norwegian Bliss

Sunrise as we enter San Francisco Bay.

Wendy and I spent some time recently traveling about the left coast, from Los Angeles to Vancouver, with stops in San Francisco and Victoria.

Most of the getting from here to there was done aboard the Norwegian Bliss, one of the new class of mega-ships that is filled with an assortment of bells and whistles -- water slides, hot tubs and pools, go karts and a large laser tag venue, restaurants, bars and a wannabe shopping mall.

The ship has a crew of 1,200 and can accommodate well over 4,000 guests. The Bliss isn't exactly blissful -- way too many people -- but it is new and sparkly and, I'm thinking, a perfect getaway for young adults traveling with kids.

Anyway you parse it, the lovely Miss Wendy and I are no longer, ah, young and our kids were at home taking care of their kids.

Wendy making her way across Santa Monica Beach.

Fortunately, extending our journey out west both before and after the cruise was a winning idea that turned what could have easily been a lackluster holiday into a memorable adventure.

We stayed in Santa Monica for two days before visiting relatives and friends around Mission Viejo. Santa Monica is a lovely beach community with shops and restaurants, expansive green spaces and an iconic pier filled with additional shops and restaurants.

There's also an amusement park for tourists and, better yet, miles of walking and cycling trails along the nearby beach.

We spent a couple hours following the trail into Venice Beach and exploring the aging hippy community there that has morphed into a sort of hip-hop, grunge and bikers mecca. The area, jarringly, also appears to be home base for many homeless and disenfranchised folks from across Southern California.

Bucket list alert: Cruising under the Golden Gate Bridge.

When we weren't walking or window shopping, we were eating. Wexler's, a New York-style Deli -- aren't they all! -- was conveniently located just a few blocks from our hotel and helped jump start our vacation on a gastronomical high. Can you say pastrami ... hot pastrami!?

Santa Monica proved to be a tasty starter on our holiday getaway, but after dashing about Southern California we were ready for the main course.

The Bliss, despite its shortcomings, managed to deliver us to a couple of world-class ports: San Francisco and Vancouver.

Both cities are touristy delights. They share much in common: expansive green spaces, soaring skyscrapers and picturesque neighborhoods.

They also have splendid waterfronts featuring a pleasant blend of souvenir shops, retail outlets, restaurants, bars and marinas filled with a wide and varied assortment of sailboats, fishing skiffs and sightseeing vessels.

Vancouver's Waterfront offers grand view of city's skyline.

Wendy and I spent a couple hours walking along the waterfront in the City by the Bay, from Pier 39 -- chock full of tourists and a pod of seals -- to Fisherman's Wharf, then up to Ghiradella Square and Russian Hill Park. Off in the distance we could just make out the outline of the Golden Gate Bridge that, hours earlier, we had cruised under as we made our way into San Francisco Bay.

A few days later we were in Vancouver where we spent a longish weekend hoofing it across the city. We went on several walking tours and eventually made our way from Gastown -- an intown neighborhood filled with restaurants and nightclubs, fashion boutiques and art galleries -- to Canada Place, Coal Harbor and Stanley Park.

After our six-hour trek, I posted a few photos and this blurb on Facebook: Take the big city vibe of Manhattan, striking architecture of Chicago, waterfront beauty of Miami and diversity of San Francisco ... stir briskly and garnish with a hockey puck and, voila, Vancouver on the rocks!

I stand by the A-Plus review, however it turns out that the top highlight of our time out west came a couple of days earlier and 60 miles south of Vancouver. After mentioning to several friends that we would be stopping in Victoria, most everyone told us we had to visit Butchart Gardens because, well, it's incredible.

One word to describe Butchart Gardens: Spectacular!

They weren't exaggerating!

The gardens, a National Historic Site in Canada, is about a 40-minute drive from Victoria. It spreads across 55 acres and features 900 bedding plant varieties serviced by 26 greenhouses and 50 full-time gardeners. In a word, the gardens are spectacular -- okay, they are also beautiful and delightful, mesmerizing and other-worldly!

Wendy and I happened to visit when most of the 160,000 Tulip bulbs planted months earlier were on full display. The colorful and fragrant flowers shared space with a wide variety of other plants and trees, including English Daisies and Elephant Ears, Dogwood trees and Trout Lillies, Christmas roses, Hyacinth, Skunk Cabbage, Forget-Me-Nots and Poor Man Orchids.

I don't know the difference between a petunia and a pansy, but the pleasant blend of flowering plants, water features and hardscape designs had me -- and a million other visitors each year -- entranced and thrilled we made it to Butchart, the bloomin' center of the world!

Frigid trip a really cool adventure

Ian, Larry and me all dressed up and ready to explore.

My brother Ian and I were on our way to Jackson Hole Airport, returning to Atlanta after spending a long weekend exploring some of the iconic natural wonders in and around the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone National Parks.

"So, how was your stay," our Uber driver asked as he gingerly maneuvered about the icy roadway between Jackson, Wyo. and the airport.

"Chilly," I said.

The driver chuckled, then responded that that was probably one of the main reasons tourists visited the area in winter, "to get a taste of real frigid weather."

He's probably right; at least that was one of the primary reasons that I and two of my brothers -- Ian and Larry, who had said his goodbyes earlier that day -- had decided to make the trip.

We weren't disappointed.

Temps ranged mostly from lows in the single digits to highs in the mid-20s. Most mornings and late evenings, however, the mercury would dip into minus territory. It was a numbing sort of cold that I had never experienced, a frosty frigidity that attacked with an unforgiving icy grip.

First Stop, the Grand Tetons just outside of Jackson, Wyo.

That's not to say there weren't warm and unforgettable moments during the trip. All three of us had spent time in the area and seen most of the major attractions, but the region glistens with an icy charm during the winter that melts away in the spring and summer.

Since we were all a little skittish about driving on icy roads, we booked two, day-long tours and left the driving and navigating to seasoned guides. The first focused on wildlife around the Grand Tetons and the second on the natural wonders to be found in Yellowstone.

Turns out, even in the dead of winter, there's lots to discover and lots to see if you know where to look. Fortunately Steve, our guide, knew where the elk and bison were wintering; also, a herd of mountain goats, some coyotes, a bald eagle or three, and a wandering moose.

So, why did the moose cross the road? Because he could!

The wildlife was strikingly positioned about the majestic peaks and tranquil valleys of the Grand Tetons, a poetic placement that managed to be both natural and wondrous; thanks and a tip of the beanie to Mother Nature!

The next day we traveled an hour or so north of Jackson in a specially outfitted van -- really big tires to handle roads and trails filled with slush -- to explore the natural wonders of Yellowstone.

The National Park spreads across 3,500 square miles of land in the northwest corner of Wyoming -- it bleeds over into Idaho and Montana -- and I imagine we managed to cover about 50 or so miles from the park's southern entrance to the Upper Geyser Basin.

The area, filled with the largest concentration of geysers in the world, was decked out in a dazzling coat of ice and snow. The sky was a frigid blue, the perfect backdrop for all the natural wonders and beauty on display.

Yellowstone is a geothermal wonderland.

We even got to see Old Faithful pop off before venturing off on a short hike that included an up close and personal look at a series of hot springs and mud pots. The surrounding landscape, meanwhile, offered up an extravagant mural of wintry delights: icy brooks and waterfalls, snow-covered woods and mountain peaks, and achingly beautiful meadows that -- at least poetically -- stretched into tomorrow.

The trip, as expected, was memorable -- and, yes, brutally cold! The weather, however, was manageable because we spent 30 minutes each morning dressing for anything Mother Nature might toss our way.

That meant after tugging on a base layer of Merino wool underwear, I followed with a pair of warm and water-resistant socks, thermal snow pants, a flannel shirt, sweater vest and fleece hoodie, quilted puffer jacket, balaclava and woolen beanie. Finally, after pulling on and lacing up a pair of Merrill Thermo Chill Mid-Waterproof boots, I was good to go. And go we did.

Up Next: Someplace warm and toasty!

Big adventure aboard a really big ship

Leaving Cape Liberty aboard the Anthem of the Seas.

The Anthem of the Seas is big -- really big! That, in a nutshell, is both the good and bad news that Wendy and I experienced, up close and personal, on a recent cruise aboard this floating city.

The trip began in Cape Liberty, NJ, a port about 20 minutes east of Newark with an expansive and memorable view of the Statue of Liberty and skyline of lower Manhattan. The week-long cruise had us puttering about the Atlantic, first to Bermuda, then Boston before returning to Jersey.

The getting from here to there was half the fun -- okay, maybe most of the fun. I did mention that the ship was big, right? It's also bright and shiny and still has that new-boat smell -- its maiden voyage was in April of 2015.

Anthem of the Seas is 1,141-feet long with a gross tonnage of 168,666 -- by comparison, the Titanic had a gross tonnage of 46,328 and the aircraft carrier Enterprise 93,284. As I said: Big -- really big!

The ship can hold 4,905 passengers and has a crew of 1,500. There are 16 passenger-accessible decks, with a total of 2,090 cabins. Wendy and I shared one of the 1,570 staterooms with balconies that had a small sleeping and sitting area, two closets and a chest of drawers.

Anthem, docked in Bermuda, dwarfs sailboats in nearby marina.

The bathroom featured a Lilliputian-sized shower, sink and toilet, a smallish nook for toiletries and a half-dozen or so towels.

It's also worth noting, simply for the whiz-bang factor, that there are 373 inside staterooms featuring "Virtual Balconies" -- floor-to-ceiling 80-inch high-definition TV screens streaming live views from outside of the ship.

There's more. Lots more. Wendy and I stumbled across lots of gee-whiz stuff when we weren't sleeping or eating -- there are at least 20 or so restaurants, cafes and buffets on the ship -- including a high-tech bar serviced by two robotic bartenders, an expansive shopping mall featuring high-end retailers and a lounge, Two70°, that soars three decks high and offers up a 270-degree view on the world!

NorthStar offers great view for those who dare.

For the young and young at heart, way up on deck 15 and 16, there are wave and skydiving simulators, three rock-climbing walls and an observation pod, the NorthStar, that can hold up to 14 people as it rises several hundred feet up and out over the top deck of the ship. Oh, there's also an assortment of swimming pools, hot tubs and wading pools, lounges and chairs.

The cherry atop this cruising sundae, the SeaPlex, takes up a huge space neatly hidden away at the back of deck 15. The large indoor gym can be transformed easily into a wide-range of kid-friendly venues -- basketball court, roller-skating rink, a school for young trapeze wannabes and an arena for bumper cars!

Wendy and I were looking for something a little less strenuous and a bit more entertaining, in a song and dance sort of way. No problem.

The Music Hall, a 2-story lounge on decks 3 and 4, serves as a nightclub and intimate music performance venue; there's also a cozy piano bar and a number of smaller clubs and bars featuring a variety of performers.

But the most notable entertainment can be found at opposite ends of the ship in the innovative and picturesque lounge, Two70°, and the Royal Theater, a massive space on decks 4 and 5.

Bermuda filled with world-class beaches and memorable views.

Two70° is the home for Spectra's Cabaret, a splashy musical review that is both an edgy concert and light show, featuring a creative mashup of high-tech gadgetry, dancers, singers and aerialists! It matters little that the story anchoring the show is indecipherable.

At the other end of the ship, in The Royal Theater, there was an edgy and entertaining mix of shows, including a couple of comics and two full-blown musicals: The Gift and We Will Rock You.

The Gift, an original Royal Caribbean production, is a musical journey of fantasy and illusion that begins one stormy night with the arrival of a "Magical Gift". At least that's how the show is described on the cruise line's website. After watching the musical I had no idea what "The Gift" actually was, but enjoyed the theatrical sets, singing and dancing. The bottom line: The story was lame, but the telling was first rate!

Fun for the kids: Rock climbing wall and a giraffe!

We will Rock you is a musical based on the songs of the British rock band Queen. The show tells the story of a group of Bohemians who struggle to restore the free exchange of thought, fashion and live music in a distant future where everyone dresses, thinks and acts the same.

Wendy and I aren't exactly rockers or big fans of Queen, but the story, performers and music -- We are the Champions, We Will Rock You, Bohemian Rhapsody -- had us tapping our aging tootsies and rocking out in a geezer sort of way!

Although we had seen the musical on day four of the cruise, we popped into the theater on the last night to catch the final 20 minutes of the show. Good move!

The musical ends, the performers take a bow and the stage goes dark. As the audience begins shuffling out, a sign lights up with the questioning message: Do you want to hear Bohemian Rhapsody?

Well, of course we do!

The memorable tune had everyone up on their feet, swaying to the music and stomping their feet. It was a grand and energetic way to end the night and a good way to end the cruise. Up next? The Big Apple yet again! Stay tuned.

Remembering Ella Rufus ... and saying goodbye

Ella Rufus: A happy, yipping ball of fur.

Ella Rufus came bounding into my life when my daughter Lauren decided to give herself a belated graduation gift. For years Lauren had yearned for something sweet and cuddly to pamper and the tiny canine -- a Westie-Shih Tzu mix -- seemed to fit the bill.

Ella started off as a yipping ball of energy that pretty quickly morphed into a yipping ball of fur. She turned prematurely gray -- Ella, not Lauren. The look suited her well, a pleasant blend of salt-and-pepper shagginess with large eyes, a cute wet nose and a puppy's innocent attitude.

Ella was playful, a sweet and gentle pup. At least that's what she became after a somewhat rocky start. The problem is Ella didn't know what it meant to be a dog and we -- that would be her humans -- had no clue how to help her understand a doggie's role in the world.

Lauren and Ella cuddling

After a night or two of keeping her barricaded in the kitchen, a friend suggested we get a crate. We did. A big crate. A really big crate. Bad idea! I covered the bottom in newspaper. An hour later one corner was filled with pee and poop and the newspaper had been meticulously ripped to tiny shreds.

Another friend suggested we get a smaller crate, a much smaller crate. We did. And, at least for a week or so, we all settled into an easy peace. Lauren walked and fed, played and cuddled with Ella. At night we gently tucked her into her tiny home.

All seemed well with the world, until it didn't.

Ella decided unilaterally that she no longer wanted or needed the crate. What had become a nighttime ritual turned into a nightly war, Ella strategically placing her paws around the opening of the crate as Lauren, with a little assist from me, attempted to push and shove her into submission.

We might have won a battle or two during the crate incursion, but Ella, happily bedded down with Lauren, or Wendy and me, or in the den -- heck, pretty much wherever she wanted to settle for the night -- had plainly won the war.

Over the next dozen years or so, Ella gamely and loyally followed Lauren to several different apartments, back to our home and, eventually, joined Josh and his doggie duo -- Joey and Maggie Mae -- when Lauren and Josh got married.

Ella and I find a comfy spot for an afternoon nap.

Ella Rufus remained a happy ball of fur, feisty and playful, filled with a streak of independence. She played around with Joey and Maggie when she was feeling sociable and, a bit later, happily ignored the new kids on the block -- Bailey and Avi -- when they were in need of a little unconditional love from a little doggie with a big heart.

We all blinked and a year or so ago it became clear that Ella, now well into doggie dotage, had slipped into the autumn of her life. The twinkle in her eyes had dimmed in recent months and she moved about slowly in search of her happy spot: on her haunches, resting comfortably in the center of a sunbeam that streamed through a nearby window.

Today, sadly, Lauren let her go. Ella Rufus was sick and tired and needed to rest. She remained a bundle of furry love till the very end. I like to think that she's made it across the rainbow bridge and is once again ignoring Joey and Maggie in a playful sort of way. I'm also pretty certain that she's already searching out a new happy spot that will be keeping her warm and comfy forever.

Memphis holiday: Two kings and a wedding!

Hannah and David having a grand time at their wedding in Memphis.

Memphis was hot in every way possible. The food, music and weather were sizzling and the vibe was a pleasant mix of southern charm and yiddishkeit.

The lovely Miss Wendy and I were in the city for the wedding of Hannah and David -- he's the son of Candy, my cousin and Wendy's bff. The ceremony, all the parties and other such nuptial high jinks were held in the Peabody Hotel which -- gossip alert -- is owned by the bride's family.

The venue didn't disappoint. It was a ducky delight, a grand and polished inn ornately decorated in high style and featuring a raft of ducks floating about a fountain in the middle of the lobby.

Memphis was a bit grittier.

We were only in the city for a longish weekend and spent the little free time we had walking around Beale Street -- sort of a poor man's Bourbon Street -- and out to the Lorraine Motel, the site where Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated.

Parading ducks one of the highlights of Peabody Hotel.

The area has been turned into a world-class civil rights museum, focusing on the country's fetid and shameful history of slavery; the emancipation of African-Americans, reconstruction, and the country's dismal embrace of racial politics during much of the last century; the rise of the Civil Rights movement and impact King had on the nation and the restoration of civil liberties before his murder in 1968.

It's all together an educational and inspirational way to spend a few hours when visiting the city.

Oh, there's another King inextricably linked to Memphis -- the King of Rock and Roll. His life and impact on the world are recalled and memorialized at his home, Graceland, that has been turned into a mecca for fans and tourists.

All gussied up and ready to celebrate.

We passed on the opportunity to check out the tchotchkes -- T-shirts, mugs, hoodies, tumblers, magnets and more -- and the chance to wander around the house and grounds where Elvis relaxed when he wasn't making albums or movies or taking care of business at concerts or performing in Vegas.

But I digress.

After a day or so of sightseeing, the main event -- the wedding -- took center stage. It was lovely, a pleasant blend of ancient traditions -- chuppah, prayers and a beautiful bride circling her handsome mate -- gently updated for a 21st century couple, their family and friends.

The rest of the evening is a blur. I did mention there was booze, right? There was also a wide assortment of hors d'oeuvres, followed by a seated dinner and, wait for it, more booze.

What lingers about most in my foggy memory today is a little surprise offered up by Hannah's parents during the reception. Her mom, Julie, said she was certain Hannah would always recall the day fondly, wishing to hold onto it for at least "One Day More!" See what she did there?

Happy couple still smiling after getting hitched.

On cue, members of Opera Memphis, hidden among the guests and wait staff, began belting out "One Day More" from "Les Miserables". The tune, one of Hannah's favorites, swirled and soared about the ballroom and had everyone -- the bride, the groom, family and friends -- wondering in delight where the next performer would appear to carry on the show.

The song, a choral piece featuring many solos showcasing vocal performances by all the main characters in Les Miz, ends Act One of the musical in rousing fashion, setting the tone for the rest of the show.

In a very real way, the flash mob performance at Hannah and David's wedding offered up a stirring high note at their reception and, just perhaps, has set the tone for the rest of their marriage. Here's hoping they find the same love and happiness -- minus all the operatic drama -- that Cosette and Marius capture by show's end.

Oh, and here's hoping that tomorrow they'll discover ...

What our God in Heaven has in Store!
One more dawn!
One more day!
One day more!

Discovering happiness in the moment

Bailey out and about and enjoying life at Chuck E. Cheese's.

Bailey was vegging out in her car seat, savoring the memory of the tasty milkshake she had just devoured. All was good until I told her we were headed back to her house and she made it screamingly clear that she had other plans.

We can stay out another 10 minutes, I told her. No, she bargained, three more minutes. Bailey, thankfully, has yet to master the ups and downs of time!

She had spent the morning with her Bubbe at synagogue, chatting and playing and sort of praying -- see what I did there?! After chowing down on a bagel and a handful of cookies at the Oneg, Wendy and Bailey drove to a nearby Lakeshore Learning Store where I met up with them for a little arts and crafts adventure.

We then stopped briefly at one of the ubiquitous fast food spots nesting in our little corner of the world and had a sugary snack: a vanilla milkshake for Bailey, while Wendy and I shared a root beer float. Yummy!

Avi, Pops and Bailey sharing a little Kodak moment.

A few moments later we were headed home when the screeching and bargaining began. Bailey and I eventually made it to a lake in her subdivision where, she said, she wanted us to stop and spend a little quality time sitting on a bench and watching the world go by.

And that's pretty much what we did. It was hot and humid, I was tired and more then ready for an afternoon nap, and Bailey was just a tad snappish, wallowing in her toddlerness and wanting what she wanted -- now!

A day later, not only had I forgotten the heat and humidity, my weariness and Bailey's momentary lapse into childhood churlishness, but I found myself happily thinking about our short adventure at the lake and wondering when we'd be getting together again.

The image playing out in my mind was bathed in a golden glow, a cool breeze whisking away the summer heat and mosquitoes. The real stuff -- Bailey pointing out a couple of turtles sunning themselves on a rock and a raft of ducklings enjoying an afternoon snack -- seemed both casual and intimate, a slice of life of a slice of life. Add a soundtrack filled with a gentle melody heavy with strings and I'm thinking we have the centerpiece for a coming-of-age blockbuster.

I mention all this simply to make the point that happiness sometimes is hidden away in the moment, but almost always surfaces in our memories.

And this is what I remember most.

As we sat quietly chatting about this and that, enjoying the day and the moment, I glanced down at Bailey and realized she had quietly reached over and was holding my hand. It was a sweet and innocent gesture of trust and unconditional love. And it's one of the best perks of being a Pops.

O Canada: Wobbly cruise filled with surprises

Enjoying a few hours in Bar Harbor before entering Canadian waters.

Wendy and I, another passenger and several crew members aboard the Veendam were in an elevator, the captive audience of a fellow traveler and would-be comic.

What do you call a cow with no legs? Ground beef! What do you call a cow missing two legs? Lean beef! What do you call a woman with one leg? Ilene!

Yes, the humor was lame and so was the humorist. His hands shook as he delivered his practiced one-liners and he had to maneuver his way about the ship with a walker. He wasn't alone.

There seemed to be an entire army of seniors using an assortment of devices -- motorized wheelchairs, walkers and canes -- to remain upright and moving forward. Welcome to Holland America!

For 10 days in late April and the first week of May we battled the elements and all the geriatrics as we made our way along the eastern seaboard of the U.S. The itinerary had us hopping aboard ship in Fort Lauderdale, leisurely cruising the Atlantic for two days before visiting Boston and Bar Harbor in the U.S., then Halifax and Sydney in Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, Quebec and Montreal.

Somewhere in the Maritimes as we cruise toward Prince Edward Island.

All did not go according to plan.

A medical emergency on the first full day at sea forced the captain to make a hard left toward Charleston where he managed to rendezvous with a Coast Guard helicopter to off-load an injured passenger. The ailing woman, by the way, is reportedly well on the road to recovery. Unfortunately, the Veendam was woefully off course with little chance of making up lost time quickly.

We arrived in Boston 10 hours late, had no time to get off the ship and were once again cruising north after an additional 75 passengers boarded. The next day we were six or so hours late arriving in Bar Harbor, enough time to dash into the village, snap a few photos and buy a souvenir or two!

The good news, I guess, is that we arrived in Sydney right on schedule. Sadly, the weather had turned cool and misty and there was absolutely nothing -- zip, zero zilch -- to do in the city. Lowlights included circling a mammoth fiddle at the dock and a quick visit to a nearby Tim Hortons for a donut and cup of coffee.

One of the two highlights we discovered in Sydney.

Fortunately, there was plenty to keep us busy aboard the Veendam. Meals were tasty and plentiful -- breakfast, lunch and dinner, mid-morning snacks, afternoon tea and late-evening treats. We also stayed busy working out in the ship's gym most mornings and attending cooking classes taught by a chef from America's Test Kitchen.

There was also a cornucopia of entertainers -- singers and dancers, comics and musicians -- and a piano bar that captured our attention and had us tapping our tootsies most evenings.

Sir Stryker -- yep, that's what he called himself -- was the man behind the piano belting out pop and show tunes and offering up a bit of amusing shtick that was fizzy fun and a grand way to end each day!

Meanwhile, it was drizzling when we docked in Halifax. Once ashore, Mother Nature blasted up with a triple whammy: frigid temps, blustery winds and heavy rain!

Green Gables on Prince Edward Island.

We attempted to battle the elements and make it into the city, but quickly retreated to the safety and relative comfort of several warehouse malls catering to tourists around the port. If nothing else, I now have a cap from Nova Scotia.

I'm happy to report that the storm played out quickly and by the time we reached Prince Edward Island the next morning the weather was pleasant: clear skies and moderate temps in the low 50s. We spent the day mostly hoofing it around Charlottetown in search of tchotchkes, but also managed to make it out to the countryside to visit Green Gables.

The 19th century house, a picturesque cottage at the heart of a series of hugely popular books by Lucy Maud Montgomery, is hidden away in a stand of trees surrounded by vacation cottages and motels. After a pleasant enough drive from here to there and back, a quick visit to yet another Tim Hortons and a walk around the port, we returned to the Veendam.

The next morning we woke to a spray of water from a fireboat just outside the port of Quebec. Turns out we were the first tourists of the season and the city was offering a warm and watery bonjour!

Chateau Frontenac towers above the lower town of Quebec.

At first blush, Quebec is picture-postcard perfect. The old city is a cobblestone maze of colorful restaurants and shops, nestled comfortably below what appears to be a massive castle that, in fact, is a massive hotel: the towering Chateau Frontenac.

Wendy and I spent the day stumbling about on our own and, after a time, with a dozen or so other tourists on a mid-morning walking tour. We were rewarded with an up close and personal look at the city's colonial core, a jarring blend of stone buildings and narrow streets in the upper town. Eventually, we managed to stumble down to the shops and bistros of the lower town, the Petit Champlain, then finished up the day strolling along the northern bank of the St. Lawrence to our ship.

A day later we docked in Montreal, made it to the airport by mid-morning and were back home in time for dinner. Sir Stryker, unfortunately, wasn't around with his piano and patter to help ease our way back into the day-to-day world of dirty laundry, cable news and frozen dinners.

Welcome home ... welcome home, indeed!

Avi racing around the sun into a bright future

Avi came bounding into the room with his preschool teacher and classmates, a 30-pound bundle of energy in search of adventure. He spotted me, revved up his engine and headed my way in overdrive.

Avi, Bubbe and Bailey (in the background) having a giggling good time.

Unfortunately, his legs were a bit ahead of his balance and he tumbled the last few feet before coming to rest where I sat. I bent over and lifted him up into my lap and he thanked me with a broad smile before resting his head on my shoulder.

A moment later he wiggled his way to the floor, grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the gaggle of kids preparing for Shabbat morning sing. He changed course mid-step and headed off toward the entrance to the sanctuary, making a dash for the lobby and freedom!

Did I mention Avi is filled with energy? If he's not moving around then he's thinking about moving around. Today, I'm thinking, he might notice his mom and dad, big sister Bailey and school chums will be giving him plenty of time and room to do his thing with abandon. After all, it's his birthday!

Avi's managed to make it around the sun twice now -- a happy, curious, whirling dervish of a toddler.

His life is filled with a pleasant blend of play and schooling. It's also filled with two of his favorite pastimes: eating and sleeping. He's happy to grab hold of as much rack time and chow as possible, taking a quick nap in the early afternoon and going off to bed without a peep each evening.

Avi and a few furry friends during visit to the Atlanta Zoo.

When Avi's not sleeping, there's a good chance he's eating. His day is a running smorgasbord of treats and grub, a jarring cornucopia of yogurt and cereal; bagels, crackers, goldfish and cheese; pancakes and strawberries; applesauce, fish and chicken; cake, cookies and donuts.

It's reasonably easy to figure out his diet each day. It doesn't take a rocket scientist or chef to discover his culinary choices. Just follow the trail of crumbs scattered about the floor and his clothes, and the stains on his hands and face.

Avi's also got an odd fascination with water. He likes holding onto a plastic cup filled to the brim when running about and, whenever near a water fountain, enjoys holding his hands under the running water. Go figure!

Meanwhile, all this play and coming and going is a studied effort, I'm told, at figuring out the world. Avi, it appears, is doing a fine job at being a toddler.

He's happy and enjoying his young life; loves his mom, dad and big sister, and is excited about what's waiting for him just the other side of the horizon. Me, too!

Another trip north and another grand adventure!

View of lower Manhattan after hiking across the Brooklyn Bridge.

Feeling a bit restless and having a few hundred bucks in airline credit to burn, it only made sense for the lovely Miss Wendy and me to take yet another nibble out of the Big Apple earlier this year.

We had visited New York in December, but decided to embrace the ancient Talmudic belief that you can never be too thin, too rich or visit Manhattan too often!

Atlanta chums Margaret and Peter, also in need of a chilly getaway, joined us on the trip north the first week of February, adding a whole new level of fun and adventure.

We spent the first afternoon zig-zagging our way about Midtown, strolling by Central Park and the Plaza Hotel, St. Patrick's Cathedral, Radio City Music Hall and Rockefeller Center, Times Square and the Broadway Theater District.

Yummy way to end the day when visiting NYC.

Another ten minutes and five blocks along Broadway and we found ourselves in front of Ben's Kosher Deli -- can you say righteous hot pastrami? Can you say yummy? We can and we did!

An hour or so later, after a deli-licious dinner of corned beef and hot pastrami, chopped liver, matzo ball soup and a choco-licious slice of warm babka, we managed to shuffle our way onto Broadway and back to the Theater District.

Margaret and Peter were off to see "Come From Away", the Tony Award-winning musical focusing on the residents of Gander, Newfoundland and the thousands of airline passengers stranded there following the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center.

Wendy and I had seen -- and enjoyed -- the musical on our last trip to New York, so we decided to spend the evening with Bernadette Peters, aka Dolly Levi, and say "Hello"! It was a splendid, toe-tapping choice and a grand way to end the day.

Up early the next morning, Peter greeted us with the news that New York's a wonderful town, explaining giddily that the Bronx is up and the Battery's down. Okay, I'm playing a little fast and loose with his words so I can get the lyrics of "New York, New York" into this post. But I'm not exaggerating the ebullient vibe that had us all psyched and ready to take on another day in the city.

Wendy and Peter crossing the Brooklyn Bridge.

After a little "ride in a hole in the ground" -- yes, that's another musical reference, this time to the city's world-class subway system -- Margaret and Peter headed over to Ellis Island in search of their ancestral roots, while Wendy and I strolled around the World Trade Center.

In recent years we've visited the "footprint" fountains on the site of the downed Twin Towers and the nearby museum raised in honor and memory of the nearly 3,000 victims of the 9/11 attacks. But we'd never actually been inside the new building.

The structure towers over lower Manhattan, 104 stories of glass and steel soaring a breathtaking -- and symbolic -- 1776 feet high. There are 54 high-speed passenger elevators, a special few that can zip you up to the One World Observatory on the 102nd floor in a stunning 47 seconds.

Both the ride -- the elevators are equipped with digital screens that offer a unique glimpse at the history and growth of the region -- and the observation deck are 21st century amazing!

Wendy and I enjoyed all the bells and whistles that greeted and welcomed us, took time to watch one last video that set the scene, then stood in amazement as the screen lifted revealing a jaw-dropping vista that stretched off to the distant horizon.

World Trade Center towers over lower Manhattan.

The observation deck -- actually two floors that include a snack bar, restaurant, meeting rooms and gift shop -- circles the tower, offering a 360 degree view that includes Manhattan, Queens, Harlem and Long Island to the north and east, the Hudson River and New Jersey to the west, and Staten Island, much of Brooklyn and the Jersey shore to the south.

If you're lucky -- and we were -- you can see forever. A gaggle of skyscrapers, roadways, bridges and green space dot the landscape. It all blends together like the phantasmagoric work of a master builder, a mighty ode to the greatness of America.

During a 30-minute stroll, high above it all, we managed to spot Central Park and Rockefeller Center; the United Nations, Chrysler and Empire State buildings; the Manhattan, Brooklyn and Verrazano-Narrows bridges; Times Square and the Statue of Liberty.

After making our way back down to earth and meeting up with Margaret and Peter, we wandered about Greenwich Village, visiting Chelsea Market, the nearby High Line, a 1.45-mile-long elevated linear park, greenway and rail trail, and Washington Square.

We then began a slow and chilly trek up Fifth Avenue. In fact, trekking pretty much filled the next day or so.

Margaret takes a little spin on a carousel in Brooklyn.

Before calling it quits and heading back to the land of cotton and warmer temps, we criss-crossed midtown yet again, traveled back to lower Manhattan and hiked across the Brooklyn Bridge into the Heights and the gentrified district of DUMBO.

We then stumbled about SOHO, NOHO and the East Village before making our way to Rafele -- can you say sangria? It's one of our favorite New York restaurants just the other side of Bleecker Street in the West Village and only a hop, skip and a cannoli away from Rocco's, a pasticceria worth visiting if you're in the neighborhood. We were and we did!

Weary, but happy, Wendy and I bid our traveling companions a fond farewell the next morning and returned home -- Margaret and Peter hung around Gotham another two days. To paraphrase Julius Caesar: We came, we saw, we ate, drank and conquered. And so it goes!