Thirty-Five and Fine

An Even Dozen

Well, one of the most important dates of my personal annual calendar has come and gone: November 9th. It is, of course, the anniversary of my arrival in Hong Kong, way back in 2009. It's a date that inspires in me feelings of nostalgia, motivation and gratitude, and I usually try to arrange some manner of celebration to duly mark its significance in my life. 

Alas, a couple of days ago, for only the second time in the dozen years that have come and gone since I stepped off that plane, I was not in Hong Kong, the city that has truly made me into the man I've become, on our anniversary. And so I had to put in a little extra effort to pull this one off. 

Never fear, I managed to do it, and when I went to sleep in the wee small hours of the morning, I rested easy, having had a full-fledged day that reminded me exactly why, no matter what happens, I'll forever be grateful that Hong Kong has played such a major role in my life. 

Chinatown was the natural location for the celebration. And I assembled an elite, killer crowd to join me for the feast. Youngest of the bunch, and the only one among us who could lay claim to actually having been born in Asia, was two-and-a-half year old Zoey. Her proud parents, Maxime and Celine, also came along for the ride. You probably remember these guys, Max being one of my closest roomies and his lovely wife also becoming a very close friend after they met. Rounding out the bunch was one of my best friends from Villanova, Rusty, who came to visit me not only in Hong Kong but also in Singapore back in 2013. So it was an appropriate crew for such an affair! 

Now how about the venue? 

Well, on an iconic, atmospheric bend of Doyer's Street, just off bustling Mott Street, there sits a restaurant called Chinese Tuxedo. It's not strictly authentic, not by a long shot. But it's housed in an old opera house, and its interior design is simply stunning. They dish out killer riffs on Chinese classics, incorporating strange but wonderful combinations of tastes and flavors. Think sesame buratta and sweet potato curry spring rolls. Even the cod was prepared in a char siu-style, a technique more commonly applied to roast pork than flakey white fish in Asia. 

Chinese Tuxedo also serves bottled Young Master, one of the most popular beers in Hong Kong. You can bet your sweet life I didn't even consider another beverage. And all the over-twenty-ones at the table indulged as well. 

I was on a such a high after dinner ended, that I convinced Rusty to squeeze in one extra drink in neighboring Little Italy. And, still, after that, I just didn't want to sleep. I slowly strolled from Mulberry Street all the way up to Heidi's apartment, where I was staying, on 70th Street. In case you are wondering, that's a five mile journey, probably about as close to actually completing the New York City Marathon as I'll ever get! (Smirk.)

So, yes, you can take me out of Hong Kong, at least temporarily, but you can't take Hong Kong out of me! Happy anniversary, babe, and sorry we couldn't celebrate together on our special day. But rest assured, we'll make up for lost time when I get back, and while I'm away, you're always on my mind!

October Done Right!

Happy Halloween from New Jersey, everybody! There's a little over an hour left of October here, the Halloween season drawing to a spectacular close. Before I head to the living room to squeeze in one final appropriately spooky movie screening, I wanted to catch you up on what has turned out to be perhaps the best October I've ever coordinated! 

Manual Labor Day Weekend

It’s funny to realize this, but apart from a staycation or two in Hong Kong over the past eighteen months, I haven’t had a proper getaway since I flew down to Thailand in February 2020. So, last week, when my sister Danii and I drove to Atlantic City for an amazing lead-in to Labor Day, it felt like a full-fledged holiday. Yes, it was an incredible return to a place where I spent a great deal of time as a child. And although gambling didn’t really play too big a part in our exploits, I still feel like a winner in the wake of this trip. As summer starts its inevitable fade into fall, I’d just like to take a moment to preserve some of my top memories of the mini-vacation, plus the days that followed when we’d returned back north as we savored one final glorious sunny stretch! 

I’ll never forget the moment I first walked into our top-floor oceanfront room at the Claridge Hotel on Thursday. It was dusk, and the lights were dimmed, so my eye was immediately drawn to the large picture window facing the sea. A storm was rolling in, the trees in Brighton Park swaying in the heavy gales and white-capped waves pounding the Jersey Shore. My jaw dropped and I’m pretty sure I let out an audible ‘wow’ on the spot. I could have stood there and just gazed over that vista for my entire trip, it was so dramatic and spectacular. Little memories like this can be so magical.

We hit the boardwalk a little while later, making a short trek to St. James Place and popping into the historic Irish Pub for dinner. Although I’ve heard a ton about the place, this was actually my first visit, and I loved the friendly staff, who took us around the whole building, telling tales of its illustrious history.

My corned beef special was off the charts, and a cold pint of Guinness has rarely been more fitting. All consumed in the atmospheric dining room, its walls lined with eye-catching bric-a-brace, it made for an incredible evening.

Back on the boardwalk, it felt like a category five hurricane was rolling in. Of course, it was actually the remnants of Ida, but the gusts were so strong that at several points, Danii and I felt like we were about to lift off the ground! In fact, although I was giggling and enjoying the phenomenon, my poor sister was actually frightened out of her wits. She insisted we immediately head indoors, so we popped up to Bally’s casino, where I lost a double sawbuck in the blink of an eye.

I consoled myself with a quick dip in the Claridge’s elegantly floodlit swimming pool, before we retired to our room, with the view as dramatic as ever. Before I finally climbed into bed, I sat in an armchair pointed out the window for what might have been hours, as I drank in the scene.

We took an early morning stroll on the boardwalk that next day, and one thing was clear: the storm had come and gone, leaving little but its memory in Atlantic City. Having heard terrible stories of the damage wrought further north, including the area where we live, I was scared southern New Jersey might have received similar damage. 

But as the dawn rays warmed the wood of that iconic promenade, there was no doubt this was going to be a glorious day.

When Danii first proposed this quick jaunt down to Atlantic City, the first thing I said was, “We have to go pay a visit to Lucy.” No, not some friend of mine who lives in the vicinity, but rather the famous seaside attraction Lucy the Elephant.

Built back in 1888 and standing six stories just off the beach in the neighboring town of Margate, Lucy is an icon of the Jersey Shore. And, perhaps shockingly, in all my previous visits to AC, I’d never gone to see it. When we caught a news story mentioning that the structure was badly in need or repair and would be closing towards the end of September for a ten-month restoration, I knew the timing of our trip couldn’t have been more perfect!

So after our boardwalk stroll that morning, we hopped in the car and drove the ten or so minutes down to Margate. It was lovely just cruising down the quiet streets outside of main heart of town, as urban gave way to suburban, with dozens of the cutest little beach houses you’ve ever seen lining each street.

But it was Lucy herself who made the morning so memorable. We paid the minimal fee to take a fully-guided tour of the structure, entering in one of her hind legs, spiraling up the staircase into her surprisingly cavernous interior, gazing out through her porthole-like eyes and venturing up to her rooftop, the nullah, for dreamy views of the sea.

To finally be standing there, and to know we were among Lucy’s final visitors before her temporary closure, all coupled with the peerless weather, made for a very memorable encounter with the peaceful pachyderm. And I have a feeling my first visit with dear old Lucy won’t be my last!

Back in Atlantic City, Danii and I popped down to Bally’s Beach Bar for some giant pouch cocktails, and I even snuck in a cheeky tequila marinated watermelon and pineapple platter, which doubled as both my late breakfast and my early lunch.

As the banner-towing planes glided across the sky, and all manner of beachgoers made their way to the sand, we whiled away a pleasant hour, before I returned to the Claridge (my phone was dangerously low) and Danii settled in on the beach to soak up some color.

After getting a little juice in the old iPhone, I headed up to the Claridge’s incredible rooftop space, VUE, which has an expansive outdoor patio overlooking Atlantic City in all its glory. Eventually—and by that I mean hours later—Danii came up and joined me, as we plotted plan for the evening. I had booked two spaces on a sunset cocktail cruise, and her friend Kristina planned to drive down and join us for dinner and drinks, so we had a lot of look forward to.

The cruise turned out to be wonderful. Run by an operation simply called Atlantic City Cruises, our captain sailed us in the backwaters behind Absecon Island, passed the ritzy homes and private docks of the citizens of Brigantine.

And as the sun dipped lower in the sky, the friendly bartender kept our delicious drinks re-filled, and we even spotted a group of dolphins frolicking in the calm waters. I made it my duty to sample as many of the cocktails off the ship’s menu as I could in the all-too-brief sixty-minute cruise time, and by the time we moored back at the pier, I was confident I had done well for myself!

Back at VUE, we ultimately linked up with trusty Kristina, but because she had gotten into town slightly later than we had originally expected, we opted to dine in our hotel’s signature Italian restaurant, Twenties, instead of journeying farther afield. I had an incredible tri-color Jersey tomato appetizer, followed by a sumptuous pasta dish, all washed down with a strong highball.

Like that, it was Friday of Labor Day Weekend. And I was up and at ‘em shockingly early, literally in time for the sunrise. I started watching the skies illuminate from the secluded grandeur of the room, but I realized the hulking towers slightly to the north would obscure the sun’s actual appearance over the Atlantic. So I rushed down to the sand and slowly made my way along the shore, as the morning spectacle reached dazzling heights.

At one point, I even called friends in Hong Kong because I wanted to show off the beauty of my home state. And, boy, oh boy, was it beautiful at that moment! I even had the opportunity to walk directly underneath Steel Pier, its sturdy pillars casting dramatic shadows on the sand.

I spent an enormous amount of time walking up and down the boardwalk afterwards, spotting as many of the Monopoly street signs as I could locate. My objective was to scope out what I felt was the best spot for breakfast, as I knew my late-rising sister and friend would be in touch soon, with empty morning stomachs. I thought Bungalow Beach took the prize for most inviting venue with its airy, plant-strewn patio immediately fronting the boardwalk. And, almost on cue, Danii sent me a message asking where I was.

What can I say? Paul can pick ‘em. It was a great spot for breakfast, and we made it even more memorable by hailing one of Atlantic City’s famous rolling chairs to shuttle us there from the Claridge. Seated on the sunny al fresco eatery’s sizeable terrace, I promptly ordered a mimosa and a stack of sumptuous Godiva pancakes, studded and drizzled with chocolate.

Our appetites taken care of, Danii and Kristina wanted a few more hours of summer sun on their skin, and I duly tagged along to the beach, even taking several dips in the perfect ocean. I was reminded that I rarely feel more alive than when I swim in the Atlantic. Yes, the dreamy seas of Southeast Asia are easy on the eyes, to be sure, but bathing there is similar to swimming in a pool or even a bathtub, with warm water and hardly any surf. You’ve really got to be on your toes in Atlantic City, with massive waves apt to knock you down every moment if you’re not properly prepared. And, well, I simply adore it.

As the afternoon wore on, I left the girls on the sand and headed to Steel Pier, because I had every intention of riding the giant Ferris wheel before leaving. I mean, are you really surprised? You can see the huge contraption from all over town, including from the hotel window, so I’d been enticed since our arrival. And I’m so glad I got to take a whirl on it.

Our last official duty in Atlantic City before driving back home was to stock up on salt water taffy, the original Jersey Shore treat, invented here back in the 1800s and a popular snack to this very day. Walking back to the car with our treasure, it was a quirky moment to spy the Claridge’s beautiful art deco architecture recreated on the box! I’m pretty sure I’ll keep this long after the sticky candy has disappeared, as a glorious memory of a quick-but-phenomenal vacation.

We still had the rest of what promised to be a glorious Labor Day Weekend ahead of us. And although Saturday mostly turned into a rest and recovery day, our energy had returned by Sunday. Danii and I had a delicious waterfront brunch on the dock of Jakeabob’s Bay, over in Union Beach. And we capped off the night at the Regal Cinemark in Hazlet, watching Jordan Peele’s new updating of Candyman.

My dad and I spent Labor Day itself in Perth Amboy, a little city about ten minutes’ drive north of our house. Perth Amboy has a quaint downtown, but for me, its real charmer is its picture-perfect marina, with myriad boats of all shapes and sizes plus dreamy views of Tottenville over on Staten Island.

Over the years, I’ve worked out the perfect Perth Amboy routine. On a sunny day, as this was, you have to stop for at least one drink at the waterfront Armory to soak up the perfection of the scene. 

But for the best eats in town, you have to sacrifice your panorama ever so slightly, and make a beeline for the Barge, a restaurant whose chefs know how to broil fresh seafood like you wouldn’t believe. So after a Mezcal mule, my dad and I were seated at a window table feasting on decadent scallops before sating our sweet tooths with rich, waitress-approved chocolate mousse.

Perhaps needless to say, when we passed a local ice creamery en route back to the car, I couldn’t resist the temptation to indulge. “Life is better with sprinkles,” a sign on the back wall proclaimed. You better believe it!

As summer’s last day merged into summer’s last night, I made myself a final cocktail of the season, which I sipped on our back deck, as the skies changed color and I kept my eyes pealed to spy the last of the lightning bugs. I feel so lucky I got to catch the tail end of such a special time of year back home, after being kept away for so long!

So, when my sister and her friend Phil announced they were headed to Sundae’s for a quick dessert and volunteered to take me along, I didn’t really have to think twice. In spite of the chocolate mousse and first ice cream of the day over in Perth Amboy, I hopped right in! And I savored every spoonful of those delectable scoops of Key lime pie as I reflected over the most precious of memories.

Cheers, summer 2021! Glad we got to know each other, and I look forward to the arrival of your colorful cousin, fall!

Dog Days

Well, greetings from good old Central Jersey! That's right... after nearly two long years stuck in Hong Kong, I finally decided to fit in a trip home. It was worth the wait, and it's marvelous to be back with family and friends after so long a dry spell.

Originally, I was supposed to stay home for a month, venturing back to Hong Kong on 15 September. When I made the preparations for this little voyage, the SAR government allowed fully vaccinated residents with proof of effective antibodies to quarantine for a mere seven days in a designated hotel. That was good enough for me. Don't get me wrong: I can't say I was exactly excited to hole myself up in a tiny cramped box for a week, but it seemed a fair tradeoff to finally slip past the boundaries of my adopted home city. 

Well, lo and behold, a few days after my departure, the government reversed course, and put America on its "high risk" list. The end result of this means I would now have to quarantine for twenty-one days in a designated hotel, upon my return, regardless of my vaccination or antibody status. Well, if seven days wasn't exactly going to be a walk in the park, you can imagine how twenty-one days would feel. And at my own expense, to boot! So I'm probably going to wait it out in the Garden State until local authorities come to their senses. 

Right now, anyway, I couldn't care less. I've got a flatmate and good friends who are taking loving care of my dear Fredric. My boss is happy for me to continue working remotely as long as my productivity doesn't suffer. And my family is thrilled to the nines to have me home for even longer than originally expected. Win, win, win. 

So I've been home for just a little over two weeks now, half of my initially anticipated holiday. And so much has happened. I guess it makes sense to catch you up on some of the major highlights of my visit thus far, so here it goes. 

First things first, let's talk about the flight and layovers. Now, air travel used to be something that featured regularly in my life. I'd say I rarely went more than two to three months without a little jaunt, whether near or far. But since my return from Thailand on Leap Day last year, 29 February 2020, I hadn't sat on an airplane! It was a memorable date that only comes up once every four years, so it struck me as doubly funny when I was sorting through options (what a trip to be furiously scrolling through SkyScanner again!) that the most convenient and cost-effective itinerary sent me out of Hong Kong on Friday the 13th! Memorable bookends between my flights indeed! 

So on Friday, August 13, 2021, I bought a ticket for the Airport Express and at 8:30pm sharp, we pulled out of Hong Kong Station. Just sitting on that train felt odd, a mixture of nostalgia, uncertainty and giddiness. I don't mind telling you that as my plane actually roared down the runway and lifted up into the night skies, I actually started to cry. Luckily, I had a full empty row to myself, and with my body turned towards the window, my eyes gazing over the panorama of Tung Chung and the South China Sea, none of my fellow passengers were alerted to my stifled sobs. 

Fast forward twelve hours and we touch down in Zurich. My good friend Serena recently moved back to Switzerland from a year studying abroad in Hong Kong, and she and her boyfriend Toby were MVPs for my seven hour layover. They met me in the city's main train station, only a ten minute skip from the airport, and before I knew it, I was wandering about the subdued Saturday morning cobblestone streets of a European gem. 

Down tiny alleyways exuding ancient charm, past iconic churches, a stroll along the river and lake, and an amazing breakfast of freshly-baked Swiss breads. We even stumbled upon a weekend flea market selling all manner of antiques and curios! It was slightly surreal to be able to experience all that, and I can only have wished my layover was longer! But mark my words: I'll be back in Switzerland, and, specifically, Zurich, as soon as I can to see more! 

But nothing could dim my excitement to see my family. So let's fast forward again to finally touching down at JFK! Well, without a checked bag, there was no unnecessary waiting time. The immigration line took around fifteen minutes, but once I was through, I wasted not a minute, hopping directly on the AirTrain and catching an LIRR to Penn Station, where my pal Heidi—ever the trusty drinking buddy—met me at our favorite bar, Kabooz's, for a few long-overdue libations before I stocked up on a dozen Krispy Kremes and caught the New Jersey Transit North Jersey Coast Line's departure for Matawan.

My sister picked me up at the station, dad was waiting at home with a fresh pizza in tow, and I couldn't have been more elated. After twenty-two months since my last trip to the USA, I was home! 

These days have been wonderful, with walks to the local bagelry up the street, Jeopardy! and Wheel of Fortune viewings in the living room, afternoon drinking sessions with a tasty craft IPA on our back porch. Even something as simple as cleaning the basement or doing a load of laundry holds certain rare pleasures.

I've loved going to the supermarket and spying all the brands I used to love, like Hostess, and Entenmann's and Tastykake. I've stocked up on the goods, too, don't worry! I've gone on hikes in Cheesequake State Park, just a short walk from the front door. And just cruising up and down the local roads is a pleasure unto itself. 

I also love all the dogs I've gotten to spend time with since I flew back, in a spate of incredibly lucky timing. Many of the friends and family I've visited with have adorable pooches, so I got to celebrate the dog days of August in appropriate fashion, including on National Dog Day last week. Alas, I had to be content with looking at photos of my own little mutt, eight thousand miles away. But I know we'll be together again soon, so I hope he's enjoying his vacation as much as I am! 

Of course, it's the time with family that has been the most special, particularly Dad and Danielle. I've loved just being with them, laughing, catching up, reminiscing. It's been a glorious fortnight, and I'm so glad I have lots more time to bask in their incredible company! 

I zipped down to Manasquan to visit my cousin Michelle and Aunt Mary-Ellen one day, too. Since my last visit, Michelle has become a mother of two, and I got the first opportunity to meet both of her bundles of joy, nearly two year old Ryan and two month old Francesca. 

And on another evening, I took the train to Red Bank, my old high school stomping grounds, where my old friend John and caught up in spectacular fashion, feasting on fresh lobster, sitting on an open-air dock facing the Navesink River. It was a real throwback to our salad days, a la 2003. And it couldn't have been better. So much has changed in our lives since then, but some things remain as they always were.

So, yes, I'm eating all the good, doing all the things and spending time with all the people, in summertime, in New Jersey... Who could ask for anything more? Who could ask for anything more? 

Dreamy July

Six Years With The Mutt

 Shock! Craziness! This you won’t believe!

Or perhaps you will. But today marks six years, yes SIX!, since I adopted my beloved pooch. And I just wanted to post a quick little installment in my series of anniversary posts, to celebrate our partnership!

Here’s to all the hikes and island days, the rooftop parties and restaurant outings, here’s to all the little ways in which you make my life so much more fun! 

To celebrate, after work tonight, I took him up the Peak for dinner at Rajasthan Rifles, followed by our favorite moonlit stroll along Lugard Road. Amazing, as always…

Love ya, little guy, and many happy returns of the day!