Tucson/Memphis/Philadelphia Blog Bundle

Tucson (April 26 - 28)

We had the Being a Beiser family reunion in Tucson. Even though most of the family lives far from there, they can’t get enough of Tucson. It has that same hold on them that it has on us. That’s why we got an almost 100% positive RSVP’s from this family of almost 50.

Peter and I serving Ample Hills Creamery ice cream

Jolene suggested the reunion idea casually when she was visiting and I said I’ll help and we were off and running. I have quite a bit of special events experience in my career and I was able to put to rest any myths that it is easy to “just have a family reunion.” We had to-do lists, sub tasks, conference calls, and minutes. We had a phenomenal committee—four of the extraordinary Beiser women from California and Megan and Audi on the ground in Tucson, for whom no request was unanswered, no problem unsolved.

We made the Doubletree Reid Park our HQ and it turned out to be great. Group rate of $99 a night. Warm chocolate chip cookies. The rooms were sizable and we had a hospitality suite on the ground floor near the pool. People hung out here, wandered through, made it their happy hour spot, had long talks with family members they hadn’t seen in years, or never knew that well. 

We had dinner Friday night in a private room at Micha's where we kept the bartender really busy making sloshy grande margaritas. I can’t believe I am saying this but the food wasn’t that good. Mexican food doesn't fare well in large serving dishes over steam heat. (Darr, Peter and I made a private trip to Micha’s for chorizo and eggs the next morning just to confirm that it’s the greatest in town. It is.)

Reid Park Ramada 

We had a big picnic at Reid Park with balloons spelling out BEISER, a photo booth, jigsaw puzzles made from old family photos, a food truck with Sonoran hot dogs, and an ice cream sundae featuring Peter’s Ample Hills Creamery shipped in from Brooklyn.

Bob's cowboy poetry jam

Saturday night we went to Lil’ Abner’s Steakhouse where there were some issues with service. But Bob Dolan became Bob Dylan and entertained us all with cowboy poetry while we waited. And once everyone adjusted to the take your sweet Tucson time schedule, merriment ensued.

It was a bash and a blast and an encore has been requested. 

  

Dear Memphis, can we break up yet?  (May 3 - 5)

The artists in residence

With Franky at Kale and Beans show

I feel that I’ve really gotten to know you, and I’ve gotten to like you. But this relationship isn’t growing or developing. How many times can I be enthralled by the duck parade in the Peabody lobby? Or by the Peabody itself? The hotel is all elegance, but the guests are not. I have tired of the duck-shaped soap.

Franky looking at Hope's artwork

One of Hope's pieces

We went for my son’s art gallery show at Crosstown Arts  with his girlfriend Hope Hudson. They had planned this show exactly one year after graduation. Their show was wonderful and they seem like an amazing artistic team. The show was called Kale and Beans to emphasize how a little money can go so far.  Franky chose particle board as his media. Hope used mixed media including crayons and thread and even a cat whisker (which she said she collects and keeps until she needs one).

Particle board never looked so good

Franky used to paint and is now a wood sculptor. I didn’t know what to expect but man was it cool. All geometric shapes, rectangles, freestanding boxes and framed wood and boxes, and he has an amazing ability to making particle board look “handsome” as one guest said.

I tried three restaurants that were new to me, so maybe I’m not completely burned out on Memphis. Central BBQ, solid ribs and a nice change from the eternal wait at Rendezvous. Hattie B’s Chicken;  there is a wait here but it is worth it. There were 5 degrees of heat, Southern, Mild or Medium, Hot! Damn Hot! And Shut the Cluck Up! We chose hot and despite our high tolerance cannot imagine going hotter. Yum! Good sides too. 

Brunch with the gang, three of Franky’s childhood friends came to the show in Memphis and we all went to brunch at super hip and delicious Edge Alley

Brunch at Edge Alley-Franky and Hope. Emma and Jordan and Ryan and Carson (L to R)

 I am sure you will have other admirers, Memphis, so don’t take this too hard. But Franky is ready to leave Memphis after five years. And I am too.

Philadelphia (May 5 - 9)

Rocky--moved down but not out

This was a business trip and the Club Quarters Hotel in Philadelphia was business like. Nothing glam about it. A definite B-lister.  Despite the large rooms with high ceilings, no one had figured out how to put them to scale. 

But it is right in the heart of the city. Philadelphia is gritty. There’s tons of noise, ambulances and construction, and homeless people, and bustle and stress. And a bit of a ‘tude. Philadelphia will never contend for the friendliest city in America. So much for brotherly love.

But a morning run, as it often does, redeemed my view of the city.  The excellent Ben Franklin Parkway offers a beautiful run and leads right up to, as they are unfortunately called, the Rocky Steps. It’s really the home of the very classy Philadelphia Museum of Art, and apparently the Board grew disenchanted with the Rocky sculpture’s position of prominence at the top perch and ordered him to be moved downstairs. I’m sorry, but they are still the Rocky steps.

Creatures along the Ben Franklin Parkway

I was mostly stuck in the convention center,  but happy to find just across the street, Redding Terminal Market, a chaos of a place with every type of cuisine, markets, delis, restaurants and gourmet food aisles. It is not a place for the indecisive. I found the Olympia Gyro which has counter and take out service. Of course the pita is pillow soft and just out of the oven, and it’s divine like Olympus itself.

A couple of nice dinners out—El Vez which I keep wanting to call Elvis. It was funky and loud and popular. They do the guacamole right. But the rest of the food was poseur. Since when did tacos become a small flat corn tortilla with a dollop of stuff on them? These aren’t tacos. I am not saying they were not tasty. Everything was tasty, but why do they call it Mexican food?

My friends Barbara and Owen took me to Chez Colette, a lovely French restaurant. We got more attention and service than we wanted because we had years to catch up on. But starting with old school portions of bread and a Caesar salad, you are faced with an entrée you can’t possibly finish.

We ate at McGillin's Olde Ale House one night, and after a long day of exhibiting, a Reuben and a Philadelphia Cheese Steak hit every right spot. One of our colleagues who went to UPenn seemed to find it amusing that we had food there.

There was a wonderful Macy’s. No. Macy’s is never wonderful. But this Macy’s now inhabits the fantabuous Wanamaker Department Store, grand and gorgeous. A place where gloves once had their own department. And saleswomen that looked like Mrs. Maisel. No more. In fact Macy’s relocation reminded me a bit of the phenomenon we saw in Spain where a cathedral was placed into the Mosque of Cordoba.

My day job, talking about the brain