Trey in Princeton

We could tell you, but then we’d have to kill you.

You are looking at the clandestine monolith known in Phish lore as the Rhombus. Its location is a scene secret and remains unknown to many phans. Trey would refer to it every now and then during Phish shows, but now that I know where it is and have been there, I see his “clues” were classic Trey—totally misleading directions designed to keep the secret alive.

Its significance is vague for some phans, and mystifying at best to non-phans. In essence, Trey’s senior thesis, “The Man Who Stepped Into Yesterday,” is a heady fable that has a guy (Col. Forbin) walking his dog (McGrupp) and stepping into another world where its inhabitants, the Lizards live under the control of Wilson, worship the Rhombus and live by the code of the Helping Friendly Book. That’s Gamehendge in the smallest of nutshells. Trey is the master raconteur and the story has so many subplots and characters it serves as both a testament to Trey’s genius, as well as an example of the esoteric nature of Phish lore.

Another art installation at the site of the Rhombus.


The Rhombus is a real work of art (actual title: "New Piece") that Trey incorporated into his trippy story. We knew it was around Princeton and that it served as the muse for Trey and Tom Marshall as they wrote some of Phish’s most beloved tunes, in particular “Divided Sky.” (It used to have a trap door on top! But of course it has since been sealed due to horseplay and hijinx.) It has become a sort of mecca for phans on two levels: visiting a tangible site of youthful creativity, as well as fulfilling a quest for a mythical structure.

As Phish is no longer together, Trey has since embarked on a tour with the second incarnation of his post-Phish band, this one known as 70 Volt Parade. Chris was alerted to extra tickets for their Princeton show, which we thought was doubly awesome because Trey is from Princeton and has never performed there. Every true phan wants to find the Rhombus, so we took the opportunity to see Trey on his old stomping grounds and make our pilgrimage. Through the master sleuthing of my husband, we found it and paid our respects. The juxtaposition of autumnal nature and a sleek geometric monolith was very 2001—it looks beautifully out of place, particularly from afar.

Plus it’s super-cool to play around on a structure that indirectly led to some of the most fun times of my life.

Princeton's campus predominantly features a gothic style of architecture that reminds me of both European cathedrals and Virginia Tech's Hokie stone buildings.



Art installation depicting Princeton students before exams.

Kel's Birthday

Just wanted to thank our fans for helping to make my first birthday as a married woman a smashing success. I spent the day doing what I do best: consuming.

First stop was Old Town Alexandria where I embarked on some fall shopping with Friend-of-Kelly Lauren Davis. We then got back together for dinner after going home to our respective hubbies. We noshed on hummus, wine and sour cherry martinis at our place before heading out to Tallula, one of the best little eateries in the area, particularly notable for its Amuse Yourself menu of cocktail nibblers such as a chorizo sausage corn dog or baby burger with truffle butter.

Anyone who has had drinks with me knows that as the martinis go down, my speaking volume goes up. I’m sure the diners who surrounded us can attest we were having fun. Last year, it was a visit from the cops at 2 a.m. This year, we were shushed by Tallula management. I guess we know how to celebrate. Thanks Chris, Lauren and Jake for helping to make another great birthday memory.

And last night, I got to celebrate again with my mother-in-law Kathy and brother-in-law Andy, so that rounded out the weekend nicely. But having my parents and sister there as well would have made it complete. My mom threw out her back, so maybe next year!! I love and miss you guys.

Also, before I forget, happy birthday to Lovely Linda, with the lovely flowers in her hair...

Now, it’s time to get ready for the holidays… Yes, I said holidays.

Ruby Vino signing off.

A San Francisco Treat

Just got back from the city by the Bay. What a great American city. The people and culture are very different compared to any east coast metropolis. From my limited experience in SF it seems like people take more time for themselves and are more active outdoors. This lifestyle is made possible by the limitless recreational options in and outside the city. Just cross the Golden Gate and you're in Marin County, and on some of the best hiking and biking trails (and roads) in the world. Wine country is about an hour or so away and the public transportation is widely available and used.

Which brings me to my review of the Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART). DC's Metro was modeled after the BART system and therefore has many similarities. Both Metro and BART are very different systems than those found in NY, Boston, and Chicago. For one thing, they're not as dated, but to their disadvantage they don't have nearly as many miles of rail or stations. Also, they are more expensive to build per mile (Metro costs $1 billion/mile). That said, Metro takes the cake when it comes to station design and cleanliness. The BART wasn't as dirty as NY or Boston but didn't have that sterile feel you get on Metro. The seats, rather than being molded plastic and rubber, were the material of airplane seats (cloth), and therefore stain easily. It is also a bit more expensive. It cost $4.95 to get from SFO to Embarcadero Center, far higher than any fare on the Metro.

The only night I actually made it out of the hotel for dinner we went to a little place in North Beach called l'Ideal. North Beach is wall to wall Italian restaurants, bakeries and coffee shops. Joe Dimaggio is from North Beach and you can still hear men speaking in Italian on the streets and in the restaurants. The meal was authentic and the wine plentiful.

Kel's Friday Editorial

Hello fans,

Mom, Dad, Kathy--this means you.

On this wonderfully muggy Friday morning in D.C., I'd first like to send a cyber kiss and hug to my husband of nearly two months, who's been out in San Francisco since last Sunday. Marley and I can't wait for you to get back.

Now on to the news. I lead with the following story. Am I reading this right?

AP reports: a 73-year-old diabetic grandmother and church elder who fled Katrina's floodwaters for the safety of a hotel ended up in prison instead for more than two weeks — all over a bite of food.

Police in this New Orleans suburb arrested Merlene Maten the day after the hurricane on charges she took $63.50 in goods from a looted deli. Though never before in trouble with the law, her bail was set at a stiff $50,000 and she was shipped away to a state penitentiary.

Family and eyewitnesses insist Maten's prison odyssey was unwarranted, claiming she only had gone to her car to get some sausage to eat when officers cuffed her in frustration, unable to catch younger looters at a nearby store.

Prison officials planned to release Maten by this weekend. She must still face the looting charge at a court hearing in October. But the family, armed with several witnesses, intends to prove she was wrongly arrested outside the hotel.

Christine Bishop, the owner of the Check In Check Out deli, said that she was angry that looters had damaged her store, but that she would not want anyone charged with a crime if the person had simply tried to get food to survive. "Especially not a 70-year-old woman," Bishop said.

For anyone who thought my previous diatribe on the hurricane aftermath was a bit cynical, please reread the above news brief, for this is exactly the sort of power trip to which I was referring. And then reread about the ridiculous bond of $50,000. If she was stealing food, it was because she and her family had lost everything and were hungry, so scrounging up that bail was going to be tough. Thank goodness the judge that ordered her release was more sensible.
It bothers me that the term "looting" was used to describe the actions of desperate people who were trying to survive after having been deprived of food, water and hygiene for days. "Looting" is what I witnessed as a teenager watching the riots in L.A. after the O.J. verdict, and the word carries with it negative connotations. It is stealing for the sake of stealing, and taking advantage of a situation so chaotic that cops are rendered helpless. While elements of the aforementioned statement ring true for Katrina, there is one glaring distinction these cops clearly missed: New Orleans "looters" were stealing food to survive; to nourish children or elderly parents or grandparents who may have been struggling in the heat and toxic atmosphere. How on earth could a policeman handcuff a grandmother and take her away in the midst of what was going on around them? It's just like the stolen Taurus of which I wrote in the City of New Orleans entry. I've read other stories like this, and it saddens me that the cops couldn't be more humanitarian to these poor souls, and trade the power trip for helping hands--even if just for a day.

On to other news: Kenny Chesney and Renee Zellweger split up? Quelle surprise. The actress who always looks as if she's been sucking on lemons and the goofy country star who's been stalking her since Jerry Maguire didn't make it? I think I'm in the wrong business, as my prescient cynicism had this marriage pegged as a sham from day one. Why, you ask? Two reasons. First, in the one released photo from the ceremony, she doesn't look how I felt on my wedding day; and that's how you have to feel if it's going to last. Two, it is *no coincidence* that Renee's Cinderella Man opened to critical acclaim but tepid ticket sales right around that time.

And Britney named the baby Sean Preston? Damn, I was so excited about the reports of his name being London.

I'd also like to send a shout out to my buddy Lauren Davis, who turned me on to Woody Allen this week. Annie Hall was one of the smartest, funniest movies I've seen in a while, but that is no revelation to movie buffs. I never realized how much a lily-white girl from Virginia Beach could have in common with a neurotic, paranoid (read: perceptive) Jew. LED, I'm saving that Coppola wine for Sleeper!

The unbearably wonderful Kelly Brooks signing off.

Help Pets Hurt by Hurricane Katrina

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Welcome to the Dawning of a New (Vick) Era

"He ran like a Vick. On a couple occasions he threw like a Vick. Most importantly, he won like a Vick."

The Hokies made me nervous last night. Coming out of the blocks they looked a bit sluggish but NC State let them stay in the game with stupid penalities. 13-10 State at the half had me feeling alright considering the team stats were so lopsided in favor of State.

The difference between this Tech team compared to teams in the past is their ability to make adjustments at the half. They came out with a different game plan, one that involved Marcus Vick doing what Vick's do best, running the ball. While 31 total yards on the ground may not be comparable to the numbers his brother used to put up, they came at crucial moments. And the touch this kid can put on the ball through the air is an ingredient Mike still struggles with. As Pat Forde wrote:

Tech's defense showed why they were the number 1 defense in the nation a year ago during the second half as well. They really got to the QB and delivered bone jarring hits that lead to incomplete passes, fumbles, and if it weren't for a botched instant replay call, a touchdown. Special teams did get fooled with a fake punt that was brought all the way to the Tech 25 but the defense held State to a field goal. As a matter of fact, the Tech D didn't allow State into the end zone after the first drive of the game.

Pat Forde of ESPN.com said it best with the following statement: "Virginia Tech relied on an old family recipe to win a ferociously contested football game Sunday night: a dollop of defense, a sprinkling of special teams and a dash of Vick."

City of New Orleans

Good Mornin', America, how are ya? It's certainly hard to complain about anything right now after watching in horror as the situation in N.O. continues to deteriorate. I dreamt about the flooding last night, or rather visions of what I had seen on the news before bed haunted me in my sleep; and I woke up confident that the worst was over. For how could the images I've seen splashed across the national media not initialize *immediate* relief of hunger, thirst and the acrid, unsanitary squalor at the conference center and Superdome, which has become more like Thunderdome.

The looting is not what needs to be targeted right now. Food and water are necessities. Period. And people are not going to watch their families starve if they can help it in the least. Regarding electronics? Let em take em! They won't get very far with a television anyway, and stores are covered for insurance and such. The salvaging of material goods is at the bottom of the heirarchy of needs here. Violence of course needs to be dealt with but with the understanding that these are mostly good people trapped in a horrendous situation. Some bloggers out there are writing that they don't "deserve" our help. But those out there raping, murdering or shooting at others are a small handful and were already the dregs of New Orleans. To attribute the acts of a minority to the tragic majority is an excuse to either look the other way or use excessive force. I can't figure out which. The priority seems to have shifted from the rescue of suffering Americans to "restoring order" and "taking back the streets." This isn't just some demonstration or concert that has gotten out of hand, and it's not the time for the police or National Guard to flex its muscle, and drive around the "camps" with large guns and no food or water. Most of the violence that has erupted is a direct consequence of the suffering. People are hungry, dirty, thirsty, scared and desperate. Why do I see footage of National Guard trucks driving by these people very quickly? Where are they going? Why don't they have people in their trucks taking them to wherever they're going? *All* energies, *all* resources, *all* manpower should be focused on getting nourishment and medical care to the people *living* at these awful camps.

I saw on the news last night a cop arresting a family for stealing a car. How dare they? Does the power trip never end with this bunch? These people are trying to LIVE. They are not taking some abandoned Taurus to go joyriding. They are trying to escape N.O. alive! These cops handcuffed both crying parents, and then I saw another cop holding the children. They'll probably be separated from them. To protect and to serve, right?

I've been reading about refugees, as you can officially call them, arriving at the Houston Astrodome after a 12-hour bus ride to find that the Astrodome is too full to accept them, even though most of them have family inside who took earlier trips. So they're going to shuttle them somewhere else. Another sports arena. And to make matters worse, they SEARCHED these people upon entering the Astrodome, when they should have had food and bottles of water for them at the door! I see that they are ultimately looking for guns, but it just seems both ironic and insulting to search and evaluate personal possessions after what these folks have lost.

I realize the vast resources it would take to "free" these people, but a disaster on our own soil should be what our money and any reserves are for! You always hear of these billion-dollar relief efforts--this situation certainly calls for that. But I get the feeling that once America saw exactly who they were being asked to help, it didn't seem so urgent. Other disasters I see on tv, such as the tsunami, show relief coming quickly, around the clock and in droves. The media isn't helping by portraying the situation as "anarchic" and making the people out to be thugs, when it's actually only a small percentage of people who are losing it. And can you blame them? They had nothing before. Now they are in the negative.

Honeymoon - Vancouver, BC

Approaching Horseshoe Bay, where we catch the ferry to Naniamo, on the east coast of Vancouver Island.

Horseshoe Bay ended up having a lot more to offer than just ferry service. There were a few restaurants and little shops and a park right on the harbour (remember, we're in Canada). We dined on fish and chips in the park while we waited to board the ferry. Fish and chips are everywhere and they're good.

In the distance the ferry arrives from Nanaimo. Almost time to head back to the car and board.

The sun is just about down and we're beginning to realize that we'd spend the next week experiencing the chilliest July nights of our lives.

This cabin was the coolest. It had all the modern conveniences, but was nestled in the brush less than a mile from the Pacific. If we were so inclined, which we weren't, we could watch satellite television. We cooked in the fully stocked kitchen and relaxed in the hot tub out on the deck. Never really been hot tub people, but it's pretty cool to hang out in when the night air is crisp and chilly.






Dining at Blueberries, the best little bistro on the Island. This was in the town of Ucluelet. We had lunch and breakfast there. I think at this point Chris ordered a club sandwich with crab, smoked salmon and avocado. I just got fish and chips for the third consecutive time. I have always loved fish and chips, and in Canada they take it seriously. Crispy throughout and the fish is both fresh and local!







Chris wets his feet in the icy Pacific at Long Beach, Vancouver Island.





Chris dons the uber-warm coastal suit for the whaling excursion on the Pacific. This was the best part of our time on Ucluelet. We rode in a high-speed zodiac boat. Imagine a power boat with a huge innertube attached to the bottom. You skim the ocean's waves, sometimes flying up into the air and crashing back down with great force. Chris and I couldn't sit together during the trip which I didn't like, but he got to sit up front, which he really wanted to do. An Asian couple stole the two right-sided seats out of the three-person front row. The guy actually asked our tour guide if we get to touch the whales.



I would live in this thing every day if I could. It was so warm and cozy. I am the world's worst packer, so I was ill prepared for Vancouver's chillier temps. Although, keep in mind, I am always cold. In my office, I practically wear a parka during the summer because they run the air conditoning so freaking high. But alas, the suit was just for the whale watching trip...and I had to give it back.



Grey whale, center of photo.


That's a bald eagle's nest you're looking at up there. A juvenile, not an adult. Our tour guide said the nests can weigh up to 2000 pounds.



Sunbathing sea lions...



Notice the black bear, that small black blurb in the middle of the screen. He's scooping crabs from the ocean.



This trailhead is about a 1/4 km from the cabin and it leads straight to the Pacific.

We pass this tree as we make our way to the ocean and if we stopped to take a picture of every old gigantic tree, which Chris was originally doing, the hike would have taken all day.



A freshly French-manicured index finger points to what's cool about Canada-- they just warn you about the bears and cougars that inhabit the surrounding woods. They don't prohibit you from the area altogether. The sign conveys the country's concern for the wildlife and the fact that you are encroaching on their territory. It was a cool thing to read and ponder over, that we were amongst beautiful black bears and lithe cougars--but we were still thankful we never encountered either one. Footnote: while we were in town, a girl was attacked by a cougar while in a provincial park, and her mother saved her. So it does happen!


As we begin to reach the ocean, there was a fork in the trail. One trail takes you to Florencia Bay and the other to Half Moon Bay. The trail went from crushed stone to an elevated boardwalk path. Reminded me of the mountain bike trails North Vancouver is famous for. Only difference is the mountain bike trails are narrower and don't have a handrail.

Kelly pontificates where arc-shaped Half Moon Bay gets its name...


We made friends with beach dwellers at Half Moon Bay! They took us in and prepared hot cocoas and then took this photo of us! Or did Chris just discover the self-timer on our brand new camera, which we purchased in Vancouver after realizing we left our original camera in Washington. Classic.



A picture-perfect shot of Tofino, Vancouver Island. This fishing port town is just 20 miles or so from Ucluelet. We drove down one day, did some shopping and bought some fresh halibut filets from a local fish market. We cooked them up on the grill back at the cabin, along with some scallops and bacon and smoked salmon Chris grabbed. Chris isn't even the world's biggest smoked salmon connoisseur--my dad holds that title. But, we were both diggin' on this stuff. He still talks about it. Moist, flavorful, and the scallops and bacon were remarkable.




At SOBO in the Tofino Botanical Garden. (SOBO means "sophisticated bohemian," by the way) We discovered this place after heading out from the cabin in search of a place to eat. After cooking at home the night before, we realized the cabin lacks one essential utility--a dishwasher. And the cookware didn't have Teflon. Thus, the rest of our meals were out. A diary at the house detailed different restaurants in the area, and one guy recommended SOBO. It was a tapas place, and it was delish. Chris and I enjoyed great wine and beer (a syrah for me, and a local pale ale for Chris) and great tapas-- a fried shrimp/crab ball thingy sticks out in my mind, as well as a fish taco with mango salsa (for Chris--I wouldn't eat that if you paid me).




These trees are curved like this from years of wind and being in a perpetually windblown state.


Self-timer strikes an action shot.



Kel sleeps on the ferry from Departure Island, departing our beautiful cabin in Ucluelet and bound for the city of Vancouver.











We embark on the aptly named Grouse Grind... We are warned that the hike is extremely steep and difficult, take plenty of water and that every step is a step in elevation. Stupid Americans... we scoffed at such warnings and headed up with a 3/4-full big-size water bottle, as you can see above.


Imagine climbing stairs, straight up, vertically, skipping three steps at a time. I certainly didn't know what I was getting into, but I held my own for someone who's last physical accomplishment of any notable duration was tee-ball in the early 80s. And bear in mind Chris and I are rationing water. At one point, my legs literally felt like spaghetti, as if I could bearly hold myself up. By the time Chris took this picture, I had lost all composure. I was desperate to stay engergized and cool as my new Capilene shirt began to soak. But I kept going, oftentimes getting a burst of energy after stopping for a few minutes.

What kept me going, you ask? A couple things. There were some youngsters behind me talking about how their uncle had completed the hike nearly thirty times in his life, as they and their father sought to complete it for the first time. I wasn't about to bow out then. But the fact that kids were doing the hike too is more of a testament to the kids' outdoor prowess than the hike's degree of difficulty. These kids must be super-active, because even Chris--an avid cyclist--would agree that this hike was tough. I was also motivated by the promise of an "I Survived" t-shirt at the top of the mountain; the guilt from last night's gluttonous dinner; and the gondola ride back down. I have not been able to sport an "I Survived" t-shirt since my days on the Big Bad Wolf at Busch Gardens.




We actually came in under the maximum average time!
The gondola back down...




Many people don't realize it but lacrosse is actually Canada's official national sport.

Not sure why the artist would pick a goalie to represent hockey but it was still pretty cool. This fella was sportin' a Vancouver Canucks jersey.



When we head down on the gondola it really sinks in just how high and steep Grouse Mountain is. It seems that they reward the people who hike up the mountain because it costs only $5 to ride down but $30 round trip.


Kelly stands in front of funky houseboats down at Granville Island.

The buildings in Vancouver are largely steel skeletons and glass windows.