There's Music Everywhere

In the local square it resembles a mariachi band, but bigger. Dinner comes with a side of flamenco solo. The Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico featured a rehearsal of the local philharmonic, an interesting accompaniment to our visit considering their Wagnerian, use-every-instrument-in-the-orchestra-or-else approach to Christmas music. And the bar directly under our hotel room offers salsa and jazz every night until two. I've been dreaming in Dolby.

PR's National Beer...

...is a light beer? It's also terrible. Apparently there's one other domestically produced brew, but it's worse.

Form of Cuba Libre, Shape of Chupacabra

Reunited with their space monkey Gleek, the Wonder Twins set out again to fight for justice...in the local bar, Patio de Sam. Good mojitos.

Mad Dog's been camping on Culebra the past week, eating local deer and deep fried pork chops. He'll be keeping the backseat warm on our drive around the island.

Which commences Tuesday with stops at the Bacardi factory and the Aricebo radio telescope. Stay tuned.

Reporting from Old San Juan

Made it in about 12 hours. No delays, no lost luggage, though it was six degrees in Minneapolis when we connected. Step off the plane and see your breath.

It's much nicer here--80 with what Karen describes as "the kind of humidity that's good for your skin and hair." I guess I only get half the benefit.

Walked the old town after checking in; currently sipping rum drinks and plotting tomorrow before we head to dinner.

We're four hours ahead of our west coast readers for those keeping track.

Brooklyn BBQ

It's frighteningly cold--your tauntaun will freeze before you reach the first marker cold--so it's perfect weather for BBQ (but honestly, when isn't it?).

Met up with my friend Trac at Fette Sau in Williamsburg for the meat extravaganza--you place your order by weight. Here's a sampling of brisket, sausage, ribs, belly, butt, pulled pork and burnt ends beans. There was something green, but I ignored that. It all comes on one parchment-lined tray.

They also sell beer by the gallon and offer the most extensive bourbon collection in New York. And they were playing Johnny Cash's Folsom Prison album, the most metal record ever. Not to be missed.

Back in NYC

It's freezing here. But I listen to my mother--you lose 240% of your body heat through your head!--so I brought a hat.

Attack of Cute

For a year I've wondered why the gardeners propped up a branch more pathetic than Charlie Brown's Xmas tree: for the perfect persimmon!

Now, what to do with it?