BSC #18 - Stacey's Mistake part 3
The kids go on a tour of NYC and I turn into Mary Anne.
Chapter 8
Stacey wakes up, trying to think out the sources for the problems. Eventually she thinks it's traveler's fatigue, her friends' desperation to impress and their jealousy. She's like "Well, none of this is my fucking problem" (which for once is true), so she just wakes everyone up to get ready for baby-sitting.
They hold a mock BSC meeting for old time's sake. Claudia is rude as fuck but they've declared a temporary truce to get through the day so she can't say jack. It's pretty great.
The kids start to show up and I'm already dreading three straight baby-sitting chapters.
Leslie stepped inside. “Remember my wheat allergy,” she said. “And not too much running, and I hate dogs.”
Us baby-sitters refrained from rolling our eyes.
In the next sentence Stacey comments on how she can't blame that other kid for despising Leslie. Because she's afraid of dogs and has a wheat allergy? That's fucking horrible. That's really fucking horrible. This kid has been nothing but excited to see Stacey, hasn't shown a single sign of being difficult, and we're supposed to just believe she's a brat because she won't eat food she's allergic to?
Cissy is this sturdy, playful tomboy who has no use for delicate, nervous Leslie. She and her brothers are sort of rough and tumble. They’re not bullies. They’re just lively and full of fun.
Right, not bullies, just lively. Just like Karen. Ever notice how there's only one right way to be a kid in AMM's world, and if you don't like to get dirty you're sent from Hell?
(Okay, I kind of have to take back the bully assumption for at least one of them. The one brother, Carlos, invites Leslie to see the family's new puppy. She freaks out because she thinks it's a threat. But that was really nice of him, considering that he's nine, she's four and his little sister hates her so he probably assumes she's annoying.)
Three of the kids are crying. THIS is not an inconvenience to them, but a kid avoiding allergens is.
Chapter nine
Stacey takes charge, commenting that it seems weird to her to be in charge when Kristy is around. Man, those cult brain slugs burrow in deep, huh? She tells Kristy to keep Leslie apart from the Barreras (okay if they hate each other so much wouldn't they naturally avoid each other? I had kids in my class I hated. So I don't go near them. Worked fine.) and Kristy gets irritated by being given orders. I'm losing some of my patience with her.
Stacey brags about having the kids walk in two straight lines with a buddy, citing Madeline as her inspiration. Well, that's literally how every school group in the history of time has walked, but sure, Stacey, you're a visionary.
Judy is in "one of her moods" (she has a mental illness, Stacey, not an attitude problem) and freaks Grace out. But they make it to AMNH unscathed.
The Stoneybrookites gape at how beautiful the building is. It really is pretty, but they'd probably pass out if they saw the Met, and Claudia would declare the Guggenheim the most dibble building she'd ever seen (while Kristy would shout that it looked like a giant toilet bowl.)
The kids, however, don't have time for this BS:
Can we go to the Naturemax Theater?” asked Carlos. “It’s got the biggest movie screen in NewYork.”
“I want to go to the planetarium,” said Natalie.
“Yeah, they’ve got a laser show,” said Dennis.
"There’s a Sesame Street show,” added Cissy.
“I just want to see the stars,” said Natalie. “They make me feel at one with the universe.”
“Huh?” replied every last one of us.
Fucking hipster douche. I remember asking my dad what that meant when I first read this one as a kid, and his reply was "Nothing." I miss my dad.
And this talk of the Planetarium has given me a hard kick in the feels. They tore down the beautiful historic building to build something ugly and modern with really NOTHING IN IT. It absolutely broke my heart. Groups in the city protested the plans but nothing came of it. Granted, despite being the perfect building for the sky shows (the only reason anyone went there anyway, really), the other exhibit rooms were such crap. My dad and I used to bet on which ones would be functional on any given day. The only reliable room was this blacklit room with planets and stuff painted on the walls. It was reasonably educational but by today's standards it's probably lame as fuck. Still...I hate that now everything there is "interactive" and stuff. Have we gotten so addled by technology that we can't look at a dinosaur skeleton, read the information plaque and be impressed by HOLY SHIT THERE'S A FUCKING DINOSAUR?! No, we need a computer on EVERYTHING.
Anyway, here's what the Planetarium looked like in my day, and Stacey's day, almost exactly the same as it did in 1933.
https://www.facebook.com/182516465099038/photos/pb.182516465099038.-2207520000.1459161408./196372600380091/?type=3&theater
I recommend flipping through the album. A LOT of the photos are basically or exactly what Stacey and the gang would be showing the kids in this book. IDK I think it's interesting. The blacklight mural is the one I was referencing before, those "what would you weight on_____" scales were there in the 80s, though I think the map was updated at some point, and I'm actually in tears because that weird mobile thing that was literally ALWAYS BROKEN - that was a sure bet, that one would be broken - is here. My dad would be so thrilled to see this page. Ugh, sorry, I'm being boring as fuck and super-lame, but I need to go get a grip. Too many feels.
Okay, I'm back. But yeah, I know I saw that Sesame Street show at least once. I liked the "grown-up" shows more, though. The NatureMax was pretty impressive at the time, probably not so much now that I'm no longer five and every other movie screen is an iMax thingy (I'm so old that I remember the first iMax theater here; at the time it was mind-blowing; now I desperately search to find movies I want to see in 2D. ) Anyway, they decide to skip out on the stuff that costs extra (which is now like 75% of the friggin' museum, ugh) and just head up to the dinosaurs. They reference the little metal buttons you used to get and I think that's just shoehorned in there so that AMM can make another reference to prove that she's been to NYC.
Peggie begs to go to the gift shop, which while understandable, would annoy me. Kid, we didn't pay insane amounts of admission to go shopping.
They start with the Early Dinosaurs, where they come face to face with the "brontosaurus." Which is a dinosaur we now know may have never existed. (Last I heard they were still arguing about it. ) At the time this book was written, that dinosaur would have had the incorrect head on it, though - that skeleton was/is actually an apatosaurus. He now wears the correct type of head, though it's a replica. He's also first mounted sauropod skeleton known, and has been on display for over 100 years, which is pretty cool. To me, anyway.
He's the old boy with he wrong - but very happy-looking - head:
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/de/09/71/de097150a499f46bca13230272ea1d94.jpg
I wish I could find a pic of him from the 80s since the room looked quite a bit different than it did 75 years earlier, but I suspect I'm really the only person who's interested anyway.
This is what he looks like now:
https://svpow.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/amnh-460-left-anterolateral-view.jpg
Grace, in a reaction totally appropriate for a three-year-old, flips her shit and starts crying over the "monster bones." I don't blame her for that. When I was her age, that same room had a giant plaster mold of some ancient shark's jaws and I was terrified of it. That shit is a little intimidating when you're three feet tall.
They check out the Late Dinosaurs, which is the room featured on the cover. Henry is enthralled, but the other kids want to move on to "the fish place," which at the time would have been "Ocean Life and the Biology of Fishes." Why the fuck I remember that, I don't know, but my brain is equally vast and useless. That's another room that has changed A LOT since this book was written and now, but the life-size blue whale model is still hanging from the ceiling. There is, however, no longer a bar underneath it, which I find to be kind of a shame. I think the nook where it used to be shows educational filmstrips now. Which I guess is more museum-y than a place to get beer.
However, on the way to say hey to the whale (I feel like I could start a poem with that), they lose Henry. Okay, I get that kids wander off. But there are FIVE BABY-SITTERS FOR TEN KIDS. Even if they're no longer in lines, why wouldn't they be able to keep track of them?! THIS IS WHY YOU DON'T LET CHILDREN TAKE YOUR CHILDREN OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF A CITY.
They find him by the dinosaurs, which is the completely obvious place to look first, O Best Sitters Ever.
But moving on to chapter 11, they decide to skip the fish since everyone's supposedly itching to get outside and play. Literally fifteen minutes ago they were begging to see more exhibits. And we're told that they only spent fifteen minutes looking at the Late Dinosaurs. AT MOST they've been in the museum for 45 minutes, including the time spent searching for Henry (also 15 minutes). Really?? When I was a kid Grace's age I could and did spend entire days there. Which you may have intuited from my inability to stop Mary Anne-ing about the place.
I need to break here to say that I've been trying to think of a tattoo to memorialize my dad for six years now, and tonight I was talking to friends about it YET AGAIN, trying to figure out what it should be because nothing seemed right. I was writing this, I got up to refill my ginger ale (I've been having a Margo Pike few days, so queasy) and it slapped me upside the head: THOSE LITTLE MUSEUM BUTTONS. If I can hunt one down (or an image of one), that'll be it. That's...kind of my entire childhood and the thing that was most special to my dad and me. I'm sorry I keep hijacking this snark with my childhood BS and I don't blame people if you've skipped it. But I'm so happy right now.
ANYWAY, like I was saying, the group really didn't get a decent visit in - besides the "fish place," the gem room is like crack for children, and the animal dioramas are pretty amazing. Plus there were hands-on type children's rooms, but maybe AMM didn't know about them since you really had to search for them. I'm mostly annoyed by this because it would've been interesting to read about the rest of the museum from AMM's weird little perspective. Maybe only to me, though.
Oh, but they do hit up the gift shop and eat lunch at the downstairs cafe (back before the museum was like 90% overpriced eating places - they took out several exhibits to put in cafes and shit; it's rather fucked-up. Evolution without the getting better part), and I will say that my dad and I only ever made that mistake once. The food was horrendous. Would've made more sense to have the kids pack lunches to eat in the park, anyway, I would think, but...whatever, I'm not an Idea Machine.
Dawn and Stacey get salads and they get one for Leslie, too, since it's the only thing they can be certain is wheat-free. Stacey says she thought she'd "kick and scream" but the kid inhales it. WHY is Stacey so mean about this kid?! She's much less trouble than ANY kid in Stoneybrook. She's allergic to wheat and afraid of dogs. THESE ARE NOT TRAITS THAT MAKE A PERSON "DIFFICULT." Meanwhile, you think Karen Brewer would eat a fucking salad if you put one in front of her??
They head out to the park, and MA brags that she's been there before, so Stacey gets her snark on:
"Oh, so you’ve seen the crouching panther statue,” I said.
“Huh?”
"And you know where the Dene Shelter is, too, I guess.”
“The Dene Shelter?”
Yeah, MA, the park is not a "you've been there once so you've seen it" place. As an aside, I always think of this book when I see Still Hunt (aka the "crouching panther statue"). And I must admit to not knowing what the shit the Dene Shelter is. (I Googled it. I do know what it is. But I never knew what it was called. I just think of it as "that thing that looks like a shack mated with a gazebo.
http://cdn.c.photoshelter.com/img-get2/I00006WvgEIS8jeU/fit=1000x750/Central-Park-Dene-shelter-12009.jpg
In case anyone's wondering)
And since I'm already ruining everyone's snarking fun by annotating their entire trip in a way that would put MA to shame, what the hell, this is what the panther looks like:
http://www.centralparknyc.org/things-to-see-and-do/attractions/still-hunt.html
I love that big kitty. The picture doesn't really get across just how lifelike the pose is - there's always a brief "THE FUCK" moment for me when I see it. Especially since I'm usually in a cab or bus driving past it quickly.
They agree to go to the children's zoo, and as they walk through the park they're amazed that there are no traffic sounds and everything smells like the woods. Well...no shit, trees tend to smell the same wherever you are. (Well I guess not really, since different types of trees and whatnot, but you get my point.) There's no shortage of nature in this city if you really want to find it, so I'll never get why people bitch about that.
Dawn spends the walk through the park freaking out about getting stabbed by a hobo or something. Stacey snots that just because someone is homeless doesn't mean they'll hurt you, which is absolutely true, but coming from STACEY, who describes a person's severe mental illness as a "mood" and thinks she understands what it's like to be homeless from seeing a homeless person twice a day...they both need to shut the fuck up.
The kids freak out over seeing a man walking a giant bouquet of dogs and an old person feeding a big bunch of pigeons. For sophisticated New Yorkers, these kids sure are easily impressed. I always get a kick out of this part, though:
An old man with a flowing white beard was riding an adult-sized tricycle. Attached to the back of the tricycle was a kid’s red wagon. And riding placidly in the wagon were three fluffy white Persian cats. They looked like the man’s beard.
I'm going to guess this is based on someone AMM saw or someone a friend of hers saw and told her about, because it's too random and yet too believable to be made-up.
Her friends accuse her of acting like a jaded snob because this dude is the only thing Stacey's seemed impressed with the whole time. Uh, guys, it's her hometown. She's seen all of this before. It stops seeming impressive when you walk by something daily. And I haven't seen Stacey act that way at all. That's the one obnoxious behavior I don't think she HAS indulged in in this book, really.
They stop by the Delacorte Clock, which Stacey also claims to have forgotten about and gets all introspective about whether or not she's become a snob. Well, yeah, you have, but not because you don't remember everything in Central Park. You're a snob because you judge people on their appearances or whether or not their interests or clothes are the same as yours.
The clock is pretty cool, here's a video of it. And don't tell me the kangaroos-slash-horns section isn't the cutest thing you've ever seen, because I'll know you're lying.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IBoIBOrPfr8
Kristy has to take another shot at a little kid, because she's back to her old asshole self:
We watched Natalie talk to some birds.
“Do you think she’s communing with nature?” asked Kristy.
Don't get me wrong, the Upchurches seem annoying as fuck but still. And of course everyone, including "sensitive" Mary Anne, laughs hysterically at this.
For some reason they think buying a bunch of hyped up little kids ice cream and popcorn is a good idea and Leslie starts to have a Margo moment. Dawn intervenes, and Leslie manages to hold her hurl. Again, am I supposed to be like, "What a horrible little kid, getting nauseated like that" or..?
Chapter 12 opens with a postcard from Claudia to Janine, referencing the time Janine read Stuart Little to Claudia. I'll assume they did that right before her trip. Okay, kidding aside, Janine is so nice.
Leslie asks to go on the carousel in the park, and Stacey drags the BSC onto it with the kids. I guess this is supposed to be cute and manic pixie dream girl - ish but THE GIRLS ARE THIRTEEN. THAT IS YOUNG ENOUGH THAT THEY COULD STILL BE DOING THAT UNIRONICALLY. FFS.
Kristy comments on how big the park is, and Stacey says she hasn't even seen half of it. She's seen like a tenth of it, if that. They come across a bunch of those tables with checker/chess boards on them and watch the players for a while.
I don't know how a bratty piece of work like Cissy has such a cute brother, because this strikes me as adorable:
Blair Barrera tugged at my hand. I looked down at him.
He indicated that he wanted to whisper something to me, so I leaned over.
“They’re very serious,” he said, nodding toward Henry’s checker-people.
Meanwhile, Cissy is tormenting Leslie and Stacey whines for them both to be quiet. Cissy is totally their Karen.
Claudia is impressed by a dog playing frisbee. Okay, THEY HAVE DOGS IN STONEYBROOK. Shannon has never played frisbee? Or Astrid, or the Mancusis' dogs? One of them is a retriever!
Peggie gets obnoxiously indignant when some of the other kids don't know who Stuart Little is. Okay, I know I got annoyed by Kristy making fun of those kids, but they sound really unbearable. Stacey tells the kids the story, and shows a rare bit of being in touch with reality when she says that she's pretty sure some of them are only listening because they're tired, but she doesn't fucking care since they're being quiet.
She announces it's time to walk back and Cissy starts whining. Yeah, not Leslie the supposed brat, but the kid Stacey says she can't blame for not liking Leslie. Cissy is TOTALLY the Karen. So Stacey indulges her with a piggyback ride. Eventually all of the littlest kids are being carried home, including Sean - I'm too lazy to go back and look but I think he's six. Stay tuned for BSC #19, Claudia and the Horrible Hernia.
They stop to let the kids climb on the Alice in Wonderland statue
http://www.centralparknyc.org/things-to-see-and-do/attractions/alice-in-wonderland.html
but Stacey can't remember where the panther is. I'm pretty sure they would've had to walk past it, but it's easy to miss unless you're on the street below it.
The kids start singing "for they are jolly good sitters," which gave ME diabetes. And nausea. Only a few more chapters to go.
Chapter 8
Stacey wakes up, trying to think out the sources for the problems. Eventually she thinks it's traveler's fatigue, her friends' desperation to impress and their jealousy. She's like "Well, none of this is my fucking problem" (which for once is true), so she just wakes everyone up to get ready for baby-sitting.
They hold a mock BSC meeting for old time's sake. Claudia is rude as fuck but they've declared a temporary truce to get through the day so she can't say jack. It's pretty great.
The kids start to show up and I'm already dreading three straight baby-sitting chapters.
Leslie stepped inside. “Remember my wheat allergy,” she said. “And not too much running, and I hate dogs.”
Us baby-sitters refrained from rolling our eyes.
In the next sentence Stacey comments on how she can't blame that other kid for despising Leslie. Because she's afraid of dogs and has a wheat allergy? That's fucking horrible. That's really fucking horrible. This kid has been nothing but excited to see Stacey, hasn't shown a single sign of being difficult, and we're supposed to just believe she's a brat because she won't eat food she's allergic to?
Cissy is this sturdy, playful tomboy who has no use for delicate, nervous Leslie. She and her brothers are sort of rough and tumble. They’re not bullies. They’re just lively and full of fun.
Right, not bullies, just lively. Just like Karen. Ever notice how there's only one right way to be a kid in AMM's world, and if you don't like to get dirty you're sent from Hell?
(Okay, I kind of have to take back the bully assumption for at least one of them. The one brother, Carlos, invites Leslie to see the family's new puppy. She freaks out because she thinks it's a threat. But that was really nice of him, considering that he's nine, she's four and his little sister hates her so he probably assumes she's annoying.)
Three of the kids are crying. THIS is not an inconvenience to them, but a kid avoiding allergens is.
Chapter nine
Stacey takes charge, commenting that it seems weird to her to be in charge when Kristy is around. Man, those cult brain slugs burrow in deep, huh? She tells Kristy to keep Leslie apart from the Barreras (okay if they hate each other so much wouldn't they naturally avoid each other? I had kids in my class I hated. So I don't go near them. Worked fine.) and Kristy gets irritated by being given orders. I'm losing some of my patience with her.
Stacey brags about having the kids walk in two straight lines with a buddy, citing Madeline as her inspiration. Well, that's literally how every school group in the history of time has walked, but sure, Stacey, you're a visionary.
Judy is in "one of her moods" (she has a mental illness, Stacey, not an attitude problem) and freaks Grace out. But they make it to AMNH unscathed.
The Stoneybrookites gape at how beautiful the building is. It really is pretty, but they'd probably pass out if they saw the Met, and Claudia would declare the Guggenheim the most dibble building she'd ever seen (while Kristy would shout that it looked like a giant toilet bowl.)
The kids, however, don't have time for this BS:
Can we go to the Naturemax Theater?” asked Carlos. “It’s got the biggest movie screen in NewYork.”
“I want to go to the planetarium,” said Natalie.
“Yeah, they’ve got a laser show,” said Dennis.
"There’s a Sesame Street show,” added Cissy.
“I just want to see the stars,” said Natalie. “They make me feel at one with the universe.”
“Huh?” replied every last one of us.
Fucking hipster douche. I remember asking my dad what that meant when I first read this one as a kid, and his reply was "Nothing." I miss my dad.
And this talk of the Planetarium has given me a hard kick in the feels. They tore down the beautiful historic building to build something ugly and modern with really NOTHING IN IT. It absolutely broke my heart. Groups in the city protested the plans but nothing came of it. Granted, despite being the perfect building for the sky shows (the only reason anyone went there anyway, really), the other exhibit rooms were such crap. My dad and I used to bet on which ones would be functional on any given day. The only reliable room was this blacklit room with planets and stuff painted on the walls. It was reasonably educational but by today's standards it's probably lame as fuck. Still...I hate that now everything there is "interactive" and stuff. Have we gotten so addled by technology that we can't look at a dinosaur skeleton, read the information plaque and be impressed by HOLY SHIT THERE'S A FUCKING DINOSAUR?! No, we need a computer on EVERYTHING.
Anyway, here's what the Planetarium looked like in my day, and Stacey's day, almost exactly the same as it did in 1933.
https://www.facebook.com/182516465099038/photos/pb.182516465099038.-2207520000.1459161408./196372600380091/?type=3&theater
I recommend flipping through the album. A LOT of the photos are basically or exactly what Stacey and the gang would be showing the kids in this book. IDK I think it's interesting. The blacklight mural is the one I was referencing before, those "what would you weight on_____" scales were there in the 80s, though I think the map was updated at some point, and I'm actually in tears because that weird mobile thing that was literally ALWAYS BROKEN - that was a sure bet, that one would be broken - is here. My dad would be so thrilled to see this page. Ugh, sorry, I'm being boring as fuck and super-lame, but I need to go get a grip. Too many feels.
Okay, I'm back. But yeah, I know I saw that Sesame Street show at least once. I liked the "grown-up" shows more, though. The NatureMax was pretty impressive at the time, probably not so much now that I'm no longer five and every other movie screen is an iMax thingy (I'm so old that I remember the first iMax theater here; at the time it was mind-blowing; now I desperately search to find movies I want to see in 2D. ) Anyway, they decide to skip out on the stuff that costs extra (which is now like 75% of the friggin' museum, ugh) and just head up to the dinosaurs. They reference the little metal buttons you used to get and I think that's just shoehorned in there so that AMM can make another reference to prove that she's been to NYC.
Peggie begs to go to the gift shop, which while understandable, would annoy me. Kid, we didn't pay insane amounts of admission to go shopping.
They start with the Early Dinosaurs, where they come face to face with the "brontosaurus." Which is a dinosaur we now know may have never existed. (Last I heard they were still arguing about it. ) At the time this book was written, that dinosaur would have had the incorrect head on it, though - that skeleton was/is actually an apatosaurus. He now wears the correct type of head, though it's a replica. He's also first mounted sauropod skeleton known, and has been on display for over 100 years, which is pretty cool. To me, anyway.
He's the old boy with he wrong - but very happy-looking - head:
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/de/09/71/de097150a499f46bca13230272ea1d94.jpg
I wish I could find a pic of him from the 80s since the room looked quite a bit different than it did 75 years earlier, but I suspect I'm really the only person who's interested anyway.
This is what he looks like now:
https://svpow.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/amnh-460-left-anterolateral-view.jpg
Grace, in a reaction totally appropriate for a three-year-old, flips her shit and starts crying over the "monster bones." I don't blame her for that. When I was her age, that same room had a giant plaster mold of some ancient shark's jaws and I was terrified of it. That shit is a little intimidating when you're three feet tall.
They check out the Late Dinosaurs, which is the room featured on the cover. Henry is enthralled, but the other kids want to move on to "the fish place," which at the time would have been "Ocean Life and the Biology of Fishes." Why the fuck I remember that, I don't know, but my brain is equally vast and useless. That's another room that has changed A LOT since this book was written and now, but the life-size blue whale model is still hanging from the ceiling. There is, however, no longer a bar underneath it, which I find to be kind of a shame. I think the nook where it used to be shows educational filmstrips now. Which I guess is more museum-y than a place to get beer.
However, on the way to say hey to the whale (I feel like I could start a poem with that), they lose Henry. Okay, I get that kids wander off. But there are FIVE BABY-SITTERS FOR TEN KIDS. Even if they're no longer in lines, why wouldn't they be able to keep track of them?! THIS IS WHY YOU DON'T LET CHILDREN TAKE YOUR CHILDREN OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF A CITY.
They find him by the dinosaurs, which is the completely obvious place to look first, O Best Sitters Ever.
But moving on to chapter 11, they decide to skip the fish since everyone's supposedly itching to get outside and play. Literally fifteen minutes ago they were begging to see more exhibits. And we're told that they only spent fifteen minutes looking at the Late Dinosaurs. AT MOST they've been in the museum for 45 minutes, including the time spent searching for Henry (also 15 minutes). Really?? When I was a kid Grace's age I could and did spend entire days there. Which you may have intuited from my inability to stop Mary Anne-ing about the place.
I need to break here to say that I've been trying to think of a tattoo to memorialize my dad for six years now, and tonight I was talking to friends about it YET AGAIN, trying to figure out what it should be because nothing seemed right. I was writing this, I got up to refill my ginger ale (I've been having a Margo Pike few days, so queasy) and it slapped me upside the head: THOSE LITTLE MUSEUM BUTTONS. If I can hunt one down (or an image of one), that'll be it. That's...kind of my entire childhood and the thing that was most special to my dad and me. I'm sorry I keep hijacking this snark with my childhood BS and I don't blame people if you've skipped it. But I'm so happy right now.
ANYWAY, like I was saying, the group really didn't get a decent visit in - besides the "fish place," the gem room is like crack for children, and the animal dioramas are pretty amazing. Plus there were hands-on type children's rooms, but maybe AMM didn't know about them since you really had to search for them. I'm mostly annoyed by this because it would've been interesting to read about the rest of the museum from AMM's weird little perspective. Maybe only to me, though.
Oh, but they do hit up the gift shop and eat lunch at the downstairs cafe (back before the museum was like 90% overpriced eating places - they took out several exhibits to put in cafes and shit; it's rather fucked-up. Evolution without the getting better part), and I will say that my dad and I only ever made that mistake once. The food was horrendous. Would've made more sense to have the kids pack lunches to eat in the park, anyway, I would think, but...whatever, I'm not an Idea Machine.
Dawn and Stacey get salads and they get one for Leslie, too, since it's the only thing they can be certain is wheat-free. Stacey says she thought she'd "kick and scream" but the kid inhales it. WHY is Stacey so mean about this kid?! She's much less trouble than ANY kid in Stoneybrook. She's allergic to wheat and afraid of dogs. THESE ARE NOT TRAITS THAT MAKE A PERSON "DIFFICULT." Meanwhile, you think Karen Brewer would eat a fucking salad if you put one in front of her??
They head out to the park, and MA brags that she's been there before, so Stacey gets her snark on:
"Oh, so you’ve seen the crouching panther statue,” I said.
“Huh?”
"And you know where the Dene Shelter is, too, I guess.”
“The Dene Shelter?”
Yeah, MA, the park is not a "you've been there once so you've seen it" place. As an aside, I always think of this book when I see Still Hunt (aka the "crouching panther statue"). And I must admit to not knowing what the shit the Dene Shelter is. (I Googled it. I do know what it is. But I never knew what it was called. I just think of it as "that thing that looks like a shack mated with a gazebo.
http://cdn.c.photoshelter.com/img-get2/I00006WvgEIS8jeU/fit=1000x750/Central-Park-Dene-shelter-12009.jpg
In case anyone's wondering)
And since I'm already ruining everyone's snarking fun by annotating their entire trip in a way that would put MA to shame, what the hell, this is what the panther looks like:
http://www.centralparknyc.org/things-to-see-and-do/attractions/still-hunt.html
I love that big kitty. The picture doesn't really get across just how lifelike the pose is - there's always a brief "THE FUCK" moment for me when I see it. Especially since I'm usually in a cab or bus driving past it quickly.
They agree to go to the children's zoo, and as they walk through the park they're amazed that there are no traffic sounds and everything smells like the woods. Well...no shit, trees tend to smell the same wherever you are. (Well I guess not really, since different types of trees and whatnot, but you get my point.) There's no shortage of nature in this city if you really want to find it, so I'll never get why people bitch about that.
Dawn spends the walk through the park freaking out about getting stabbed by a hobo or something. Stacey snots that just because someone is homeless doesn't mean they'll hurt you, which is absolutely true, but coming from STACEY, who describes a person's severe mental illness as a "mood" and thinks she understands what it's like to be homeless from seeing a homeless person twice a day...they both need to shut the fuck up.
The kids freak out over seeing a man walking a giant bouquet of dogs and an old person feeding a big bunch of pigeons. For sophisticated New Yorkers, these kids sure are easily impressed. I always get a kick out of this part, though:
An old man with a flowing white beard was riding an adult-sized tricycle. Attached to the back of the tricycle was a kid’s red wagon. And riding placidly in the wagon were three fluffy white Persian cats. They looked like the man’s beard.
I'm going to guess this is based on someone AMM saw or someone a friend of hers saw and told her about, because it's too random and yet too believable to be made-up.
Her friends accuse her of acting like a jaded snob because this dude is the only thing Stacey's seemed impressed with the whole time. Uh, guys, it's her hometown. She's seen all of this before. It stops seeming impressive when you walk by something daily. And I haven't seen Stacey act that way at all. That's the one obnoxious behavior I don't think she HAS indulged in in this book, really.
They stop by the Delacorte Clock, which Stacey also claims to have forgotten about and gets all introspective about whether or not she's become a snob. Well, yeah, you have, but not because you don't remember everything in Central Park. You're a snob because you judge people on their appearances or whether or not their interests or clothes are the same as yours.
The clock is pretty cool, here's a video of it. And don't tell me the kangaroos-slash-horns section isn't the cutest thing you've ever seen, because I'll know you're lying.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IBoIBOrPfr8
Kristy has to take another shot at a little kid, because she's back to her old asshole self:
We watched Natalie talk to some birds.
“Do you think she’s communing with nature?” asked Kristy.
Don't get me wrong, the Upchurches seem annoying as fuck but still. And of course everyone, including "sensitive" Mary Anne, laughs hysterically at this.
For some reason they think buying a bunch of hyped up little kids ice cream and popcorn is a good idea and Leslie starts to have a Margo moment. Dawn intervenes, and Leslie manages to hold her hurl. Again, am I supposed to be like, "What a horrible little kid, getting nauseated like that" or..?
Chapter 12 opens with a postcard from Claudia to Janine, referencing the time Janine read Stuart Little to Claudia. I'll assume they did that right before her trip. Okay, kidding aside, Janine is so nice.
Leslie asks to go on the carousel in the park, and Stacey drags the BSC onto it with the kids. I guess this is supposed to be cute and manic pixie dream girl - ish but THE GIRLS ARE THIRTEEN. THAT IS YOUNG ENOUGH THAT THEY COULD STILL BE DOING THAT UNIRONICALLY. FFS.
Kristy comments on how big the park is, and Stacey says she hasn't even seen half of it. She's seen like a tenth of it, if that. They come across a bunch of those tables with checker/chess boards on them and watch the players for a while.
I don't know how a bratty piece of work like Cissy has such a cute brother, because this strikes me as adorable:
Blair Barrera tugged at my hand. I looked down at him.
He indicated that he wanted to whisper something to me, so I leaned over.
“They’re very serious,” he said, nodding toward Henry’s checker-people.
Meanwhile, Cissy is tormenting Leslie and Stacey whines for them both to be quiet. Cissy is totally their Karen.
Claudia is impressed by a dog playing frisbee. Okay, THEY HAVE DOGS IN STONEYBROOK. Shannon has never played frisbee? Or Astrid, or the Mancusis' dogs? One of them is a retriever!
Peggie gets obnoxiously indignant when some of the other kids don't know who Stuart Little is. Okay, I know I got annoyed by Kristy making fun of those kids, but they sound really unbearable. Stacey tells the kids the story, and shows a rare bit of being in touch with reality when she says that she's pretty sure some of them are only listening because they're tired, but she doesn't fucking care since they're being quiet.
She announces it's time to walk back and Cissy starts whining. Yeah, not Leslie the supposed brat, but the kid Stacey says she can't blame for not liking Leslie. Cissy is TOTALLY the Karen. So Stacey indulges her with a piggyback ride. Eventually all of the littlest kids are being carried home, including Sean - I'm too lazy to go back and look but I think he's six. Stay tuned for BSC #19, Claudia and the Horrible Hernia.
They stop to let the kids climb on the Alice in Wonderland statue
http://www.centralparknyc.org/things-to-see-and-do/attractions/alice-in-wonderland.html
but Stacey can't remember where the panther is. I'm pretty sure they would've had to walk past it, but it's easy to miss unless you're on the street below it.
The kids start singing "for they are jolly good sitters," which gave ME diabetes. And nausea. Only a few more chapters to go.