Category Archives: Indiana

Blustery Indiana Hailstorm Smashes Fauna, Causes Widespread Blackouts, Interrupts Quality Time

September 21, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , 5 Comments

Temperatures in Indianapolis had been dropping this week, so we knew a change in the weather was in store, but we hardly expected anything like tonight.

We were in the middle of entertaining a guest, about forty minutes into Louis Leterrier’s Clash of the Titans when we realized that the explosive sounds of mega-scorpion warfare on TV were suddenly being drowned out by what sounded like massive artillery fire from outside, bombarding our house from every direction. Violating one of my personal rules, I paused in the middle of an action scene, then pulled the drapes to scope out the fuss.

Lo and behold: central Indiana was under siege by killer hail from above.

Indiana hailstorm 9/21/2012

Indiana hailstorm 9/21/2012

For readers lacking a frame of reference, let it be known for the record that our modest deck doesn’t normally look like someone’s laying the foundation for Christmas Town.

We’ve had hail before. The average hailstorm ’round our part of Indianapolis lasts twenty to thirty seconds, at best — not nearly long enough to jangle our nerves. This time was not the same. I rarely describe meteorological events as “frightening”, even when tornado sirens are blaring in my ear and the clouds have turned the color of murder. Tonight, the intensity level assailing our humble abode was officially frightening. For several minutes that dragged like dangerous hours, the onslaught just wouldn’t stop. This new, sturdier, 21st-century hailstorm raged and roared to the point where my son actually evacuated the living room to get away from the potentially hazardous window glass. We Hoosiers have been taught and lectured about important safety tips like that for years. I can’t blame him for obeying them, or for thinking his father was insane for being mesmerized by this unheralded, unsafe display of nature’s brutality.

I might’ve been a little more grounded and less collected if I’d looked out our front door first. This is what the storm did to our neighbors’ very large tree across the street:

Indiana hailstorm 9/21/2012

Granted, this could have been a stray lightning bolt accompanying the hailfire, rather than the hailfire itself. Somehow that doesn’t brighten my impression of the event.

So far our house seems unscathed, except for two sides that are now plastered with our neighbors’ former leaves. It remains to be seen how our roof fared. Our evergreen bushes out front are wider than they were this morning, as if a rhino rolled around on them to scratch his back. Our power blacked out in the middle of the storm, and remained kaput for over two hours before service resumed. As I understand it, we’re among the lucky ones in that regard — local news is reporting that thousands more people remain without power at the moment, and Lord only knows how many hail-related horror stories will be aired or posted by morning. I pray there were no casualties in all this, and that the damage is much less than I fear.

Admittedly, the hailstorm certainly put those fake, showy mega-scorpions into proper, minuscule perspective.

Indiana State Fair 2012 Photos: Sandwiches, Sculpture, and a Surprise Celebrity

August 10, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , 5 Comments

The Indiana State Fair is a great annual celebration of Hoosier pride, farming, food, and 4-H, with amusement park rides and big-ticket concerts by Top-40 or country artists. My son decided long ago that it wasn’t his thing anymore, but my wife and I attend each year as a date-day to seek new forms of creativity and imagination. Mostly that means culinary concoctions that shouldn’t exist but do.

First, foremost, and most unfathomable: the “Elvis” — a bacon peanut-butter banana burger.

Bacon Peanut-Butter Banana Burger

It sounds heinous, but wasn’t all that bad when you realize bananas and Jif Creamy peanut butter aren’t exactly sharp-flavored foodstuffs. They made the sandwich richer and creamier, for what that’s worth. If you remember that banana is a tropical fruit, pretend that the salt on the burger is like sea salt, and imagine that the bacon is reminiscent of a roast pig at a luau, then you could tell people it’s a Hawaiian Paradise Burger. Rationalizing the peanut butter might be trickier.

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Indiana State Fair to Feature Spaghetti Ice Cream, Acrobats, Things Starting with “Fried”

July 26, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , , Leave a comment
Indiana State Fair to Feature Spaghetti Ice Cream, Acrobats, Things Starting with “Fried”

100% pasta-free!Behold the official signature food of the 2012 Indiana State Fair, a faux-Italian dish called Spaghetti and Meatballs Ice Cream. The base of this concoction is spaghetti-shaped gelato, topped with strawberry sauce playing the part of tomato sauce, white chocolate shavings in place of parmesan cheese, and meat-free chocolate balls as toppers. In a year where one of the exhibit halls will be hosting a salute to Italy, this seems a fitting, obvious choice. Nutrition information has not yet been released for us to determine if this dessert is healthier than the average pasta dinner.

Signature food competitions in past years have featured ingredients such as corn, tomatoes, and pork, all the better to celebrate our fair state’s farmer majority. Last year’s ingredient was soybeans, which inspired one winner that actually contained any soybeans (deep-fried ice cream!) and four wannabes whose soybean use was indirect and impossible to taste except perhaps to the most hardcore soy junkie. This year’s theme ingredient is dairy, one of my favorite food groups. Other competitors — all of which will also be on sale this year, if you can find the right booths — include caramel corn sundaes, fried cream cheese squares (three flavors, including spinach), and cannoli.

Other new culinary will be premiering out of competition, such as fried Samoas. The official Girl Scout cookie joins the hallowed ranks of Twinkies, Oreos, Snickers bars, and countless other snack foods that brave concession-stand pioneers have dipped in batter and fried heartily in the name of snack science. I’m not sure the Samoa’s coconut/chocolate base has enough fans to match the sales of the old mainstays, but we’ll see.

Donut Burger. Sweet. Salty. Sinister.2012 also brings new experiments from Carousel Foods, the makers of the State Fair’s own donut burger, pictured at right from its Indiana debut in 2010. (In case you’re wondering: yes, I ate it, and yes, I obviously died shortly thereafter.) The Carousel madpeople have let their imaginations run wild with at least two new main courses: a “raspberry donut chicken burger” (presumably self-explanatory) and a “bacon peanut butter banana burger” (I felt my cholesterol rising just by typing that). If the State Fair ever celebrates the Year of Burgers, I expect them to submit five different nominees that shame all the other burger stands into shutting down and changing career tracks.

There will also be non-food things such as animals, rides, acrobats, 4-H projects, and famous bands that don’t appeal to me. The more the food changes, the more the rest stays the same. Not that there has to be anything wrong with that. I realize I’m vastly outnumbered by the rest of the crowd and will never see an early-’90s alt-rock act perform there. The fair has to turn a profit. But I can still dream.

To balance out the sampling of bizarre foods, my wife and I do more than our fair share of walking on our annual State Fair date-day. We eschew the shuttles and amble all over the fairgrounds — Expo Hall exhibits to the south, animals to the southeast, acrobat shows to the northeast, maybe a brief stroll through the Midway to confirm we’re not much into rides anymore. One fun walking activity: the search to find all those new-food booths. We can always rely on a few of them to inhabit the main straightaway on the south end, but there are always one or two obscure vendors who require a long round of hide-and-seek to track down, or who require us to venture to otherwise empty territories, such as the tranquil horse-barn cluster on the east end. All those miles of walking should burn off as much as 3% of our caloric intake.

This year’s Indiana State Fair will run August 3-19, starting the exact same day as my son’s new school year. Thus is our annual date-day sanctified once again. With an entertainment lineup of African acrobats, “extreme” trampoline users, and opportunities for attendees to try their hand at milking a real live cow, our day looks to be anything but dull and far from underfed.

Threat Level Milquetoast: Visiting Indiana Beach Without Kids

June 28, 2012 By in Indiana, Travel Tags: , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

Indiana has no Kings Island, no Six Flags, and no Disney theme park, but we have two independent amusement parks to call our own. Holiday World, located in southern Indiana in a town called Santa Claus, is a clean, calendar-themed entertainment machine whose most impressive feature to us Hoosiers is not their steel coasters or their massive water park; it’s the unlimited free soft drinks for all patrons. Yes, free. Drink stations are positioned all around the park with several varieties of Coke products and plenty of twelve-ounce cups. The stations are so plentiful that long drink lines are rarely a problem.

Their competition in the opposite half of the state, just north of Purdue University, is longtime family destination Indiana Beach, located in a town called Monticello — pronounced “monti-SELL-o”, not “monti-CHELL-o” like President Jefferson’s crib. The “beach” part is attached to Lake Shafer, a pretty body of water now surrounded on most sides by tourist havens and summer getaways. After decades of settling for being a mere beach, Indiana Beach began to build up an empire of machinery as the management has added rides one by one over the decades, slowly bringing more action to the area while leaving a little less beachfront.

I’d only been once before because beaches turn me crispy, swimsuits fail to flatter me, and the thought of trying it actually never occurred to me until a few years ago, when my wife floated the idea as a one-tank road trip. My second visit was made possible when my employer scheduled this year’s company picnic there. An excuse and discounted tickets were all the motivation I needed. My son, age 17, was permitted to opt out, leaving us adults to do whatever we wanted. As it turns out, we weren’t really in the mood for wild and crazy. In fact, nearly everything we rode was rated “Mild”, devices fit for AARP members and easily jostled agoraphobes.

The ride nearest the Indiana Beach entrance is the Steel Hawg, a wild ‘n’ twisty steel coaster that inverts and induces nausea. This is a prime example of what we fuddy-duddies merely gaze upon rather than experience for ourselves.

Steel Hawg @ Indiana Beach

The Ferris wheel is more our sad, sorry speed. The ambience at the top was breezy on a hot day and included a comprehensive vantage point above the modest park. The Hoosier Hurricane, their standard-issue wooden coaster, consumes most of the view.

Indiana Beach overhead shot

To our right: bucolic Lake Shafer.

Lake Shafer

You can view Lake Shafer from afar, snuggle up close to it in the water-park section, or — if you jog over to the Honey Creek Bay section — you can now zip-line across it. When Indianapolis hosted Super Bowl XLVI last winter, one of the most prominent and coveted features of its downtown Super Bowl Village was a zip-line along several blocks of Capitol Avenue. Tickets were sold out days in advance. Now every event organizer in Indiana wants one installed, whether temporary or permanent. They’re in danger of becoming this decade’s answer to bungee-jumping.

Zipline @ Indiana Beach

For an even better view, you can ride the two-way Skylift across the park, peering down at the other rides, treetops, and roofs. But don’t forget, unlike these former occupants: the safety bars are there for a reason.

Skylift @ Indiana Beach

This enormous water slide wrapped around a steel coaster is no doubt a consequence of overcrowding, but would be the greatest ride of all time if you could somehow combine the two. That inventor shall be anointed as Emperor Genius of Amusementia.

Water Slide Around Coaster @ Indiana Beach

Or there’s the polar opposite of rollercoasters: the Wabash Cannonball kiddie train, which provides a tortoise-level mass-transit connection between the kiddie rides in the middle of the park and what used to be a miniature golf course on the far end. Sometime after my previous visit that mini-golf course was dismantled and replaced with a couple of benches and a fountain. This substitution doesn’t sound like an exchange that would result from consumer demand.

Wabash Cannonball @ Indiana Beach

If the ironically named Cannonball seems too breakneck, the antique-auto track travels at speeds up to almost 1 MPH, and has the advantage of allowing riders to steer the vehicle themselves and determine their own destiny within the narrow confines of the strict, uncool guide-rail. In case this sounds too exciting for the faintest of heart, an auto with a flat tire is stationed nearby as a demotivational reminder to cocky braggarts that accidents can happen even at 1 MPH.

Antique autos @ Indiana Beach

Our company-picnic passes allowed us dual admission to either the normal Boardwalk rides or the water-park rides. One unexplained exception: the Carousel. When we tried to board, we were rebuked and denied by a ringer for Old Man Witherby who insisted our all-access armbands weren’t all-access enough for the Carousel. I’m not sure what makes the Carousel such a hoity-toity upper-crust dreamlike experience that an additional charge for kiddie-ride passes is required. Maybe it only looks normal from the outside, but on the inside turns into an evil whirlwind like the one from Something Wicked This Way Comes. That would be worth an extra buck or two.

Carousel @ Indiana Beach

We declined to stage a protest, mostly because this random white tiger wouldn’t stop giving us such a piercing, vulturous glare. I imagine spooky kiddie-ride totems are more cost-effective than paid security guards.

White Tiger guards rides @ Indiana Beach

Also on guard: a faux Moai fountain. Because of the similarities between Indiana and Easter Island.

Moai Fountain @ Indiana Beach

When the time came to report to our assigned picnic shelter to commence with the company picnicking, we found our hosts running behind schedule and still carting our foodstuffs out from an unseen kitchen. Despite the unceremonious containers and the “Shelter Chicken” label that makes it sound like an imported shipment from the Wheeler Mission, the fried chicken was surprisingly fresh, warm, and delectable.

Food arrives!

As my son has aged beyond theme parks and our nieces and nephews have their own agendas and parents, I fear my time for this kind of experience is drawing to a close. I still enjoy the food, the company, and the occasional arcade game, but the physical stress and motion sickness aren’t as endurable as they used to be, nor am I enamored anymore of walking long distances through water parks barefoot, topless, and nearly blind without my glasses.

Despite our limitations (some admittedly self-imposed), the good parts of Indiana Beach still kept us going for quite a few hours before we departed around 5-ish when the remains of our energy evaporated. Options still abound under those circumstances, such as a few video arcades that offer old-school coin-op fun, especially a long row of those great Data East licensed-character pinball machines that I could keep playing forever if I were insensitive about how that would bore my wife to sleep standing up. If you don’t mind paying extra, the Shafer Queen ferry can spirit you across the waters and allow you to see vacationing jet-skiers and well-heeled boaters up close in their natural habitat.

In addition to the company-picnic meal, their concession-stand food is also top-notch for its category. Three scoops of vanilla ice cream atop a large elephant ear certainly made my day, and helped me let go of my bitterness at Old Man Witherby and the Forbidden Carousel, which would make a great title for a Scooby-Doo episode.

Indianapolis Food Trucks Topple Tyrants, Establish Benign Well-Fed Regimes (Part 4 of 3)

June 22, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , , 1 Comment

Previously I shared my impressions of sixteen different competitors in the burgeoning field of Indianapolis food truckery, still available in parts one, two, and three. These wondrous, infrequently convenient providers still enliven many a humdrum rat-race weekday…and they won’t stop multiplying.

In the month that’s passed since the conclusion of the trilogy, I’ve had the pleasure of doing business with four more trucks, all worth hunting down.

Hoosier Fat Daddy’s Food Bus — Some trucks too closely resemble delivery trucks and repair services. I’m embarrassed how many times I’ve looked out the window and convinced myself I’ve spotted a new truck, only to realize it’s just a crew of linemen from Indianapolis Power and Light. The HFD distinctive purple bus doesn’t share that problem. Their meat loaf sliders were right up my alley, mostly because I’m the only member of my household who’ll eat meat loaf, a rare treat in my eyes because of meat loaf deprivation. The Barney-colored purveyor of cuisine Americana also offer rib tips and turkey legs, for those seeking traditional fare in non-slider formats.

Chuck Wagon Deli — As one of the few people on Earth who winces whenever he sees a Subway sign (long story), I had low expectations when approaching the very nicely painted truck that offers deli sandwiches, something I rarely crave because I’ve eaten cold turkey sandwiches for lunch three days a week for over a decade. Then I found out that a six-inch extra-wide jam-packed fully flavorful Philly cheesesteak and a bag of chips would only set me back $4.50. I was also impressed at their selection of nearly a dozen different sandwiches. Most food trucks are lucky to have half that much variety. For the space of one meal, I recanted my anti-sub hate and mentally awarded them five stars out of four.

Circle City Spuds — Also not normally exciting to me: baked potatoes. My wife can’t get enough of them. I can. I gave Circle City Spuds a shot nonetheless, and found myself the proud, temporary owner of a fresh, hot potato topped with BBQ pulled pork and macaroni-‘n’-cheese. As toppings. Yes, it wasn’t pretty. I didn’t care. If it helps, some of their varieties contain healthy vegetables, including but not limited to broccoli. You can enjoy those while I go back to reminiscing about my amazing mac-‘n’-pork potato of death.

Some of This, Some of That — At last, after several timing failures, SOTSOT finally stopped by on a day when I could avail myself of their Cajun fare. I take it as a good sign that they’ve upgraded to a larger truck and ditched their original illegible logo in favor of bright red boldness that fairly glows from across the street. I grumbled as I waited one-third of my half-hour lunch break for them to whip up a sausage po’boy, but it was so generous and pretty, I forgave them as I carried it back to work amidst stares from jealous passersby. It was one of the sloppiest food-truck dishes I’ve had to date, but I can live with that.

With those, my personal food-truck sampling total now stands at twenty. I know more trucks are out there somewhere, plying their wares in the wrong parts of the city and intentionally avoiding my money. FINE. Suit yourselves. I’ll just be over here lamenting what might have been and still avoiding Subway as much as possible.

Skyscraper Could Make Lovely Starter Home for Young Trillionaire Couple

May 31, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , Leave a comment

At 48 stories and an external height of 830 feet at the pinnacle of its uppermost spire, Chase Tower is the tallest, most intimidating building in Indiana. Among WikiPedia’s rankings of tall buildings, it’s Indianapolis’ only entry in America’s Top 40. It’s one of the few memorable standouts in panoramic photographs of our not-exactly-sprawling downtown.

Chase Tower offers convenient connection to the ritzy Columbia Club, a unique view of Monument Circle, a neighbor in historic Christ Church Cathedral, quick access to a commendable comic shop just around the corner, and eight different Starbucks within healthy walking distance (two of those at short, arthritis-friendly shuffling distance). Right next to it is the best place to stand for any Hoosier who wants to pretend they’re in Manhattan.

According to the Indiana Business Journal, it’s also for sale:

[Chase Tower] was sold recently to Beacon Capital Partners LLC as part of a package of 14 office towers Beacon bought from Charter Hall Office REIT in Sydney, Australia, for $1.71 billion.

Beacon, which closed on the building earlier this year, is now marketing it for sale through the Chicago office of Jones Lang LaSalle and New York-based Eastdil Secured, a unit of Wells Fargo.

How cool would it be if you and millions of your closest online friends could each chip in $100 and make an offer? If you’re one of Justin Bieber’s 22,570,604 Twitter followers (as of the second I’m typing this), you and your fellow J-Bieb enthusiasts would only need to pony up $75.77 apiece to match the previous sale price for the entire 14-skyscraper package. If you can persuade the sellers to break up the set and part with just the Chase Tower, that shared stake becomes even more of a bargain.

Unfortunately I’m not sure if all 22,570,604 co-owners could fit inside simultaneously and turn it into 48 stories of sheer party town. A timeshare system might be in order. Heck, I’d be tempted to piggyback on the deal myself, in exchange for anytime line-jumping access to the Paradise Bakery on the Tower’s ground floor.

If $1.71 billion seems too steep, the same IBJ article also references a listing for the nearby Capital Center, a modest complex of two mini-skyscrapers (more like skywavers, really) each 17 and 22 stories tall, the shorter of which houses Fifth Third Bank’s central Indy offices. Imagine closing the deal on this and being able to tell your friends you’re a bank’s landlord. They’ll either high-five you and declare you King of Turning the Tables on The Man, or slap a red-letter “1%” on your chest after they finish tarring and feathering you.

If it helps sweeten the deal, the South Tower has a stellar coffee shop. It’s not even a Starbucks.

Franchitti Wins 3rd Indy 500, Gives Shout-Out to Katniss Everdeen

May 27, 2012 By in Indiana, Mundane Tags: , , , Leave a comment

The Indianapolis Star has released the following preview image of the cover for Monday’s edition, a tribute to Dario Franchitti, winner of today’s 96th running of the Indianapolis 500. Franchitti accepted the customary Winner’s Circle bottle of milk, donned the standard winner’s wreath, and greeted the cameras with a three-finger salute like a proud Hunger Games Tribute.

Share photos on twitter with Twitpic

When he escaped the initial skirmish at the Cornucopia carrying only a set of car keys, the other Tributes laughed at him. LAUGHED.

Indy 500 Festival Parade 2012 Photo Gallery

May 26, 2012 By in Conventions & Events, Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 8 Comments

My wife and I aren’t sports fans, but in 2011 we decided to try the Indianapolis 500 Festival Parade for our first time together. Each year on the Saturday before the world-famous Indy 500, our city holds a parade downtown with corporate-character floats, scintillating displays, marching bands, celebrities of varying levels of fame, all 33 qualifying Indy 500 drivers, members of the family that owns and/or operates the race, and bellicose street preachers.

Last year’s experience was such a fun date that we agreed an encore was in order. Ninety-degree weather was far from comfy, but we persevered. The following is a fraction of the pics we snapped.

The parade’s Grand Marshal: Australia’s own Olivia Newton-John! She was too far away to take questions and recriminations about Xanadu.

Co-star of "Grease" and "Twist of Fate"

’80s sensation Rick Springfield! The trailer speakers blared “Jessie’s Girl”, the only song of his that our local radio stations remember. As always, they sadden me.

Rick Springfield!

’80s semi-sensation Eddie Money reprises one of his classic hits, “Two Tickets to Parade”. With him is One Tree Hill‘s Jana Kramer, though for some reason all promotional materials avoided mentioning that show in favor of her plans to release her first country music album later this year. All kinds of odd choices in that sentence.

Eddie Money!

Mitch Daniels, governor of Indiana and certified Wild One.

Mitch Daniels, Wild One

TV’s Guy Fieri, of Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives. It was thanks to his recommendation several years ago that we had the pleasure of trying West Virginia’s Hillbilly Hot Dogs, and we’ll never, ever forget the experience.

TV foodie passes by a Jimmy John's without stopping.

Gladys Knight, well-known Pip-wrangler and midnight train passenger.

Still hearing it through the grapevine after all these years.

Florence Henderson is one of two celebrity staples guaranteed to appear at every Indy 500. The other, Jim Nabors, has bowed out this year. I wish him speedy recovery from whatever ruined a good run for him.

TV's Florence Henderson!

Derek Hough from Dancing with Stars and Maria Menounos from Extra. When their car moved forward to Monument Circle, they got out and had one of their walk-along security men snap their pic together in front of the Soldiers and Sailors Monument. Tourism isn’t just for us little people.

Nobody tell them I don't watch either show.

Captain Keith Colburn from TV’s Deadliest Catch. Alongside him but off-camera is a guy from A&E’s Storage Wars. Missed him by that much.

Deadliest Catch, Friendliest Waver

Miss Piggy, strung along by her obedient Kermitlings.

Dread the power of her giant-sized karate-chop!

Papa Smurf, living large after the success of his feature film debut, striding around atop forced Smurf labor.

Words of wisdom, boots of DEATH.

The Cat in the Hat and his goldfish arch-nemesis declare a temporary truce for the occasion.

Now containing 0% Mike Myers.

The Confucius Institute sponsored this golden dragon float as our new front line of defense against Godzilla.

The golden dragon says, "RAAAAAR."

Giant monster bookworm says read or be squashed. Look for him in his upcoming Syfy Original Movie, Giant Bookworm vs. Golden Dragon.

Giant Bookworm!

The Fred Hill Briefcase Drill Team. Even in those classy suits, they looked a lot less dehydrated and suffering than some of the high school musicians in the parade.

White Light, White Collars

THE Mario Andretti. I haven’t watched or listened to an entire Indy 500 race since college, but even I know and respect that name.

Mario Andretti!

Indy driver Takuma Sato. He finished 33rd out of 33 cars in 2011, but his was one of the two best driver photos we took.

Just wait till 2012!

Marco Andretti, youngest racer in America’s favorite racing family. Take THAT, Speed Racer and Racer-X.

Most Photogenic of Show

Special bonus for longtime readers: I’m please to report at least three food trucks were out and about, making the most of the weekend.

The Edwards Drive-In Dashboard Diner wins Best Truck Art.

The Edwards Drive-In Dashboard Diner.

The Chuck Wagon Deli wins Best Truck I Haven’t Tried Yet. This is the first time I’ve seen them downtown. I would’ve given them a shot if we hadn’t had such a decent breakfast this morning.

The Chuck Wagon Deli.

Der Pretzel Wagen wins Best Sugary Treat. Their cinnamon sugar pretzel was a delightful relief after the parade ended and I needed extra energy for the walk back to the car.

Der Pretzel Wagen.

When most people think “Indiana parade”, I imagine this is what comes to mind first: racecars and farmers. Just add a large basketball and a guy taking a nap, and it would be a true salute to Hoosier stereotypes.

Three Little Pigs.

I trust one or more of the other twenty-one images help balance the scales, so let us never speak of this throwback again.

For wallpaper fans, large-scale versions of these pics are on display in my PhotoBucket album. We have plenty more photos not uploaded, if the public demands outtakes of the Dennis the Menace float, a traditional Chinese dragon, non-character floats sponsored by Big Energy, Indy 500 Princesses, obscured 500 drivers, Indianapolis Mayor Greg Ballard’s wife’s hat, a stagecoach, the Hulman family, sweltering marching bands, or clowns. I was afraid to photograph any street preachers, so I can’t help you there.

Indianapolis Food Trucks Cure Pandemics, Negotiate Worldwide Economic Stability (Part 3 of 3)

May 19, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Concluding my recollections of what our local food trucks have done for me. My experiences with the following trucks weren’t exactly scarring, but arguably had margin for improvement. Some cases may have been singular events unlike the average customer’s experience; others may simply not be my cup of tea.

Scratchtruck — Our side of downtown offers very few oases for large, fast burgers. Make no mistake, I was grateful for the chance to try their 1/3-pound Scratch Burgers, topped with bacon marmalade, arugula and gorgonzola. It was worth the money and deserves some repeat business. My fries, which cooled off in no time flat, were less demanding of an encore.

West Coast Tacos — The granddaddy of all trucks, the one that started it all here in Indy. They were the first to specialize in imaginative tacos bereft of cheese, lettuce, or tomatoes. They’re absolutely not a Taco Bell homage. Unfortunately, when I tried three varieties in one meal, the meat on my chicken teriyaki taco tasted as though it had been sitting in a dry marinating pan for hours. As someone who once worked at McDonald’s during a time when they failed at venturing into the fajita market, I know a thing or two about dry marinating pans and the meat they ruin. If I’m wrong and that texture was intentional, then this isn’t my thing after all.

Molly’s Great Chicago Fire — Chicago-style hot dogs with tons of toppings. Great toppings and decent deli-style buns, but on a good day our downtown also has hot dog carts with same-size dogs for half the price. They’re the only truck I know with a breakfast menu (my all-time favorite food group), but I’ve never seen them around in the morning.

Der Pretzel Wagen — I support the concept of pretzels presented in various wondrous forms. My pretzel dogs were great, but when der Wagenmeister asked if I wanted any mustard, I had the audacity to ask for mustard…and ketchup. I could feel the temperature in the air between us drop fifteen degrees as he searched the truck for a packet with such a look. In my defense, I don’t insist on ketchup for every hot dog I eat. I almost never dump it on burgers or fries. Sometimes I’m just in a weird mood and don’t feel responsible for upholding everyone else’s high-falutin’ culinary standards. Besides, if I really wanted to gauche it up, I would’ve asked for Cheez Whiz, or maybe grape jelly.

Groovy Guys Gourmet Fries — Nacho fries, pizza fries, and other variations in the topped-fries genre. The top layer of my steak-‘n’-cheese fries was a small, delectable meal. Below the surface, all that remained were ordinary fries. I had hoped in vain for total meat saturation. They also offered deluxe fry dips such as hummus and sesame ginger sauce — something I should try next time, perhaps, but not as a main dish. I’ll need to pack a sandwich that day.

The following trucks have parked nearby but found ways for me to miss them anyway:

Some of This, Some of That — The first couple times they stopped by, their logo was so hard to read that I couldn’t discern their name well enough from my floor to google them for details. Eventually I caught the name and learned they’re another Cajun truck. I wouldn’t mind trying them, but they’ve mastered the art of hanging out only on days when I have no extra money. That bad timing is totally not their fault, unless they have spy sensors in my wallet and a cruel sense of humor.

Side Wok Dumplings — The first time I noticed them out front, a police car later double-parked near them with lights flashing and hung out for quite a while. The next time they appeared, the sign on their side had been removed. I haven’t seen them since. Their last tweet was five months ago. I’m betting somewhere out there is a great anecdote that connects those sketchy details.

Fat Sammies — An Italian food truck should be a saucy, intoxicating experience. I wish I knew. They pulled away just as I was walking toward them with cash on hand and appetite in stomach. This happened twice. The second time, it was 12:30 on a Friday. As of this writing their last tweet was four months ago. I sense something is amiss.

The list presented in this three-part miniseries is by no means complete. I’m aware of a few trucks that stake out territories outside downtown, and not just in the suburbs. I’ve found this is the biggest drawback to the food truck concept: if you know a specific truck you want to sample, or if you grow too attached to a great one, then you may have to hunt them down. Their collective, lively Twitter presence is a boon for keeping fans and foodies informed of their whereabouts, as are food-truck locator sites such as Roaming Hunger or TruxMap.

More often than not, you’ll have to be patient and wait for them to appear unto you as a pleasant surprise. I like to think the stronger and more popular among them are here to stay. Just the same, check ’em out when the opportunity arises, before a food truck glut begins culling more of the herd…or worse, before someone gives Unigov a reason to brainstorm harsh new rules and regulations to appease their brick-‘n’-mortar competition.

Indianapolis Food Trucks Save Day, Change World for Better (Part 2 of 3)

May 16, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 2 Comments

Continuing the recount of my encounters with the Indianapolis food truck phenomenon. Although the five trucks I covered in part 1 were extraordinarily good, the following trucks merely ranged from extremely good to very, very good.

The Spice Box — At last, a convenient source of Indian food! The little Indian place we once had near work shut down years ago. No other member of my household will join me at any local establishments such as India Palace or the Shalimar. The Spice Box and their Chicken Tikka Masala cater to a very underserved niche in my palate. Oddly, they can often be seen teaming up with the Mac Genie mac-‘n’-cheese truck for an interesting either/or face-off. Taken together, they’re symbolic of the duality of man.

Taco Lassi — More Indian food, but served Mexican-style with “local ingredients and natural meats.” This sounds wrong, but works well. The Chicken Tandoori won for me last time, but I still need to try the fabled Mango Lassi at some point.

Seoul Grill — Korean tacos! Or, if you need a break from food-truck tacos and don’t insist on meat, try their kimchi quesadillas. I do insist on meat, but don’t let my rules inhibit you.

Gypsy Cafe — Their massive Cuban po-boy is the largest food-truck sandwich I’ve had to date, not to mention one of the most competitively priced. As with Korean and Indian, this is another food group shamefully lacking in my suburb. Some online reviews complain that their use of mayo calls their authenticity into question. I forgive them.

The NY Slice — Pizza truck! Everybody loves pizza! They’re at a disadvantage because they have to compete with a decent brick-‘n’-mortar Enzo Pizza down the block, but the NY Slice has its own charm. I appreciated that they offered options beyond the pepperoni-sausage-cheese Axis of Ho-Hum. Fans of thin pizza might appreciate that their crust isn’t as doughy. Also in the NY Slice’s favor: they’re not a corporate franchise.

Chef Dan’s Southern Comfort — The Catfish Po’boy may not have been as spicy as the other dishes on their Cajun-themed menu, but I was fine with it. It should be noted one of my coworkers didn’t care for the untoasted, unwarmed bun on her sandwich. I don’t deduct points for bun quality unless it’s stale, frozen, or Subway.

To be concluded!

Indianapolis Food Trucks Win Hearts and Lunchtime (Part 1 of 3)

May 14, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , , , , , , 3 Comments

My favorite new (over)use of disposable income in 2011 was the veritable tidal wave of food trucks that began flooding Indianapolis in general and downtown in particular. All those new options coming and going at random have enlivened many a workday with their momentary detours from our ruts, their surprise goodies luring us curbside, and the occasional menu items we’ve had to Google for definitions.

Out of the sixteen trucks on which I’ve overspent, none of them has sold me a disastrous experience. Food quality has varied, but all staffers were pleasant and welcoming, as one would hope to encounter at their traditional brick-‘n’-mortar counterparts (albeit sometimes in vain). Super Bowl LXVI weekend saw a particularly lively food truck festival between several trucks gridlocked on Monument Circle, greeting and feeding any tourists who strayed from the colossal party down on Georgia Street. It was all the more opportunity for me to sample wares and pass the good word along to the neighbors on my cubicle block.

Of my food truck experiences to date, five served hard and stood tallest:

Duos. Their motto of “Slow Food Fast” humbly belies their true calling of vegan and gluten-free sandwiches and soups with gourmet ingredients, of the varieties exclusive to your more upscale groceries. Not all their dishes are tailored for those two categories, but those that are have been equally delicious to those of us with general-audience appetites. Duos has done so well for themselves that they’ve recently opened a brick-‘n’-mortar location down the street from the Children’s Museum. They’re the only food truck I’ve patronized more than half a dozen times, and the only truck with a schedule consistent enough for me to consider as appointment dining.

Keys Gourmet Slider Station. Think White Castle with exotic toppings. I heartily endorse this idea. I’ve rarely seen them around of late, but trust that they’ve been off enriching the lives of others who were far more in need of enrichment.

Mac Genie. A recent article in Indianapolis Monthly extolled the up-‘n’-coming trend of fine-dining restaurants offering specialty mac-‘n’-cheese on their menus for refined sensibilities. As I recall, none of the featured restaurants were near my home or workplace. Thankfully Mac Genie will appear from nowhere to grant my wish of dense, prettied-up cheesy carbs with non-standard toppings. (I actually make a concerted effort not to wish for this too often, for the sake of my physical health. This kind of harmful wishing is why I’m not allowed to own any Arabian lamps.)

Scout’s Treats. If you prefer your desserts prepackaged and artificially preserved, this truck isn’t for you. The proprietor/baker/driver specializes in scrumptious chocolate ganache cupcakes and sea salt brownies that make Little Debbie cry all over her factory floor.

The Edwards Drive-In Dashboard Diner. On the complete opposite end of the culinary spectrum from Duos in innumerable ways is this mobile version of the longtime south-side drive-in As Seen On TV’s Man v. Food. Giant sandwiches and intimidating sides provide a heapin’ helping of shortening overdose that we less finicky businesspeople are hard-pressed to find anywhere else downtown. I have yet to witness a single coworker finish an entire tenderloin and order of onion rings without begging for assistance from others.

To be continued!

If a Ballot Has Only One Candidate, Does it Still Count as Voting?

May 8, 2012 By in Indiana, Mundane Tags: , , , , , 2 Comments

Tuesday, May 8th, is Indiana’s primary at last. It matters not a whit on the national stage, but our local elections can occasionally be intriguing to watch. Sometimes they even have ramifications.

On Election Day in November, I vote without regard for party lines because they’re meaningless to me and I wish they’d go away. Pick any belief, and you can find a supporter on either the Marvel or DC Coke or Pepsi Elvis or Beatles Democrat or Republican side. It’s an arbitrary team sport. In primaries, I’m a Democrat for the worst possible reasons.

When I registered to vote in 1992, I had the choice of registering as Democrat or Republican. End of choices. A or B. 0 or 1. Jack Johnson or John Jackson. No other parties were listed on the form, and there was no write-in blank to select a label of my own choosing such as “conscientious objector to the electoral process” or “Goonie”. At the time I was an apathetic agnostic who wanted to exercise his right to vote without any real direction or interest in the process itself. I settled on “Democrat” because gas prices had skyrocketed to an annoying $1.29 per gallon, and this persnickety, indebted college student just knew it was George Bush’s fault somehow. I had to send him a message, and listening to Jello Biafra speeches over and over on my Walkman clearly wasn’t getting through to him.

(This is why you don’t corner me and ask me to make snap decisions about topics on which I’m woefully unqualified. If I’d been the captive parent faced with the cruelty of Sophie’s Choice, I would’ve hemmed, hawed, and then gone with a gut feeling based on each boy’s GPA.)

I’ve retained the “Democrat” label to this day because participation requires a label. I’m not interested in researching my options for party realignment. No proof of allegiance is even required, just a willingness to engage in the process, for worse or for worst. Besides, the contention between Democratic primary candidates is often…um, interesting. Consider, for example, the Presidential primaries of 2008, when the only two real options remaining on Indiana’s primary ballot were Making Black History or Bride of the Monster.

Using the Indianapolis Star‘s handy online voter guide, my options for the 2012 primaries under my assigned label appear as follows, summarized as I go without preparation:

President: Obviously foregone.

US Senator: Also foregone. Incumbent Joe Donnelly is locked in.

US Representative: Four whole choices before me! At last, some comparisons to draw. The incumbent is a Muslim whose predecessor in office was his grandmother, who in turn was beloved by her district. Of his three contenders, one proudly stated on his questionnaire that he’s Christian “and not a Muslim.” One has centered his entire platform on the forthright message of “Obamacare SUCKS.” One failed to complete the Star‘s survey and obviously hates when people vote for him. I’ll have to sleep on this one.

Governor: I didn’t know this was foregone, but John Gregg appears to have no challengers on the Democrat side in his quest to catch the gubernatorial baton from the outgoing Mitch Daniels. Gregg also didn’t bother with the Star‘s survey, which may lose him my vote come November. He might lose it anyway, even if I can’t remember that slight. His opposition will be Republican U.S. representative Mike Pence (one of the few current politicians I genuinely respect) and the Libertarian candidate, Rupert Boneham from TV’s Survivor. Yes, that Rupert. Yes, really. Can’t wait to see that party started.

State Representative: Three candidates: (1) one guy who works for the Star‘s parent company in some capacity; (2) a tax attorney whose tiny profile photo faintly resembles Tracy Morgan but with dignity and class; and (3) a mother of two who has experience working in retirement communities, which probably comprise 90% of our local voting base. If they can remember her, she’s in.

County Coroner: The incumbent, Frank Lloyd Jr., seeks reelection. I don’t understand why this is an elected position. Why not just hire someone? Why require two candidates to stand at podiums and convince you why they are the one true master of autopsies? Politics, shmolitics — Master of Autopsies would be a fantastic reality show. Two coroners walk in; two bodies are pushed in; one walks out. (One coroner, I mean, not one body. Granted, that too would be good televisionin’.)

County Surveyor: Another Democratic incumbent rerun. Her resumé includes the word “pictometry”, which is new to me. For that she can stay, and “pictometry” goes on this week’s vocabulary list.

County Treasurer, and Township Advisory Board: Are all our bases belong to incumbent Democrats? Here I find two more positions in that same predicament. I propose a new rule: every office must have two or more primary contenders, or else that office is canceled till next year due to lack of interest from politician wannabes.

Superior Court Judges: Our marching orders are to vote for ten of the twelve proposed candidates. My votes will be going to one Gulf War vet, all the minorities I can detect, and an additional non-incumbent. That still leaves three unused votes, which by fiat may end up going to the youngest-looking of the last men standing. I’m sorry, but I have little else to sway me here. The surveys have far fewer questions than they did in past years. Most of the answers in this category were dry legalese and of little help for my personal discernment preferences. I suppose I could instead base my votes on whether their religion of choice is a Christian denomination or just plain Christian.

Disappointing results in hindsight: out of ten possible races, only three of them will require actual decision-making from us “Democrat” voters. See, this kind of sloppiness is what happens when I try to finish an assignment the night before it’s due. If I’d consulted the voter guide sooner, I would’ve known that only three races invite any real Internet research. Too bad the Star didn’t ask the candidates for their GPAs.

The Train Job

April 28, 2012 By in Indiana Tags: , , 3 Comments

If I were appointed Mass Transit Czar for the city of Indianapolis, the impossibility thereof notwithstanding, my first plan would be to install a subway system that would initially disrupt the lives of tens of thousands of citizens while ultimately serving hundreds of thousands more.

I’ve had limited exposure to subways in Chicago and DC in years past, but Manhattan’s far-reaching MTA system made last summer’s vacation possible and pleasurable thanks to its comprehensive geographic coverage, lack of service interruptions, and relatively smooth rides even when elbow room was at a premium.  Despite the occasional rush-hour crush and panhandler performance, I appreciated being able to relax in my own way while someone else drove us around at top speeds without the threat of automotive gridlock.  More than any tangible souvenir or gaudy Times Square photo, their subway was what I wanted to bring home from Manhattan more than anything else.

Alas, it can’t be done.  Despite the hopes and wishes of those citizens who’d love to see an efficient light-rail line connecting Carmel and downtown with each other and nowhere else, a combination of special interests, budgetary conservation, and fear of radical change all but ensures I won’t be riding any local rails within my lifetime.  The Methodist/Wishard “people mover” (a euphemism meaning “amusement-park rail ride”) is a nice attraction to stare at longingly during my daily commute, but I think it tops out at a paltry 1.5 miles per hour.  I also dislike that it only has two stops, neither of which is my house.  I understand Indianapolis has a railroad for travel to and from other cities, but my house isn’t that far away.  Adding insult to injury, our nearest IndyGo bus stop is a mile-and-half walk away, and receives only partial daily service.

Submitted for no one’s approval is my own proposal for what an Indianapolis subway system should look like:

Subway Proposal, Accompanying blog forthcoming.

My primary goal: eliminate the archaic wagon-wheel design of our IndyGo routes.  Once upon a time when downtown was everything to everyone, designating it as a transportation hub was a logical plan.  You could take the bus from nearly any point in the city to downtown, transfer to another bus for only a few cents extra, then head back out to any other point in town.  If you enjoyed the stopover in the heart of the city and didn’t mind spending an hour on travel time each way, the bus was a great option.  If you need a ride from West 38th Street to West 71st Street and aren’t up for bicycling, the bus is an absurd option.

Thus my ideal subway routes avoid this misplaced prioritization.  Downtown should not be a mandatory stop for every single ride.  In fact, I minimized downtown subway access because IndyGo has that somewhat covered.  Regardless of pricing, safety, speed, or smells, the option already exists for many neighborhoods.  I made two major concessions:  one line connecting 96th and Meridian to Greenwood Park Mall, and one connecting Avon and Washington Square.  I-465 is handy for driving from one quadrant of town to the next, but travel between polar opposites is interminable and frequently beyond interstate scope.  Those few who live near the randomly placed intersections of I-465 and other interstates should count their blessings.

My secondary goal:  end neighborhood isolationism.  It’s time we broke down barriers and learned to get along citywide.  We can’t do that very well if we never see each other.  Broad Ripple, for one, needs to learn to play better with others.  It has no interstate access, no convenient highways alongside it, and canals too tiny for riverboats.  I resent that every trip to the Vogue feels like I’m infiltrating a landlocked foreign nation, and that’s just the scary parking lot out back.  Sometimes commoners want vinyl LPs, magazine-article clothes, and fair-trade coffee, too.  It’s time to share with others.  Hence the direct line from Broad Ripple to today’s internationally flavored and commercially challenged Lafayette Square Mall area.  The two disparate communities should have much to share with each other.

Same goes double for the northeast side.  Every time I open an issue of Indianapolis Monthly or google new restaurant options, I get the impression all the city’s most talented restaurateurs are sequestering themselves in Carmel or its clingy entourage of other suburbs.  So many learned folk surely have ideas about life, love, peace, and success that would effect remarkable influence and widescale social uplift if only they could be spread to other, needier parts of town.  By direct contrast, Indy’s near-east side has a much longer history than CarmeLand, but is mentioned more frequently in Indianapolis Star articles about murder than any other side of town.  In my brave new city, they’re connected for the sake of transcending castes and fostering a deeper sense of cross-mindset synergy.  Think “buddy-cop film” writ large.  Who doesn’t like buddy-cop films?  If that’s not enough, this same line also connects Carmel with the Marion County Fairgrounds.  Convenient, right?

I’ve created several such team-ups like this, in the same spirit as those miserable “group projects” we all undertook in school against our will. And aren’t we as adults all the better for it?  To that end, I’ve connected Haughville to Beech Grove; Zionsville to Mars Hill; Fountain Square to the Pyramids; Butler University to the University of Indianapolis; the Indianapolis Motor Speedway to the Indianapolis Museum of Art; and Mass Ave to Mug-‘n’-Bun.  You’re all sister areas now.  Play nice.

As in Manhattan, transfers will still be necessary to reach some points B from certain points A.  You’ll note I’ve included a subway route alongside I-465 that can be used to reach Lafayette, Washington, Greenwood, and Castleton Square Malls all within the span of a single day.  That day, of course, would be Black Friday.  You can transfer from any of those four mall stops to the aforementioned meridian lines to reach Circle Centre Mall, and there’s an extra detour toward the Metropolis “lifestyle center” out in Plainfield.  For the true Black Friday overachiever, shuttle service would be offered between Castleton Square and the Keystone Fashion Mall, all the better to provide me access to Key Cinemas.

Speaking of me:  you’ll notice a conglomeration of sorts on the west side.  Since this is my proposal, my convenience is obviously paramount.  In addition to my Key Cinemas shuttle route, these routes are tailored to serve my house, my employer, my regular comic shop, my church, and Fry’s Electronics as well.  Anyone who is exactly like me in every way will learn to appreciate these small concessions.  By way of compromise, I agree to continue using my car for groceries, thereby eliminating one needless subway stop.  That’s just too many bags for me to drag around anyway, especially if the Mass Transit Czar position doesn’t oversee enough paid assistants.

In order to achieve all of this in as little time as possible, we may need to evacuate most of the city for several years until the bulldozing and tunneling are completed.  I also don’t look forward to the tense negotiations that will be required to arrange for the borrowing of lots of underground drilling equipment from West Virginia miners or from any heretofore undiscovered colonies of mole people.  On the upside, construction employment will be at an all-time high during the project.  Any and all unemployed humans and animals with thumbs will be cordially invited to participate.  Said thumbs don’t even need to be opposable.  We need all hands on deck if we’re to make my dream come true before I reach AARP age and become a much more dangerous driver than I already am.

According to my budgetary calculations, which may or may not be affected by how much calculus has faded from my memory since high school ended two decades ago, this project will cost the city approximately thirty-eleven jillion dollars.  Obviously the financial burden should not be dumped on hard-working Hoosier taxpayers, especially not those teeming masses who will be forced by eminent domain to vacate their demolished domiciles and hopefully relocate somewhere nicer and outside the IPS district.

Funding would instead be provided by declaring war on Ohio.  I don’t have any details worked out.  The drawing up of proper war plans would be delegated to the Indiana National Guard or whichever body our state charter designates for inter-state invasion maneuvers.  All I know is Ohio is larger than us, therefore possibly richer than us, and likely won’t even notice they’ve been conquered until it’s too late, after our new subways are operational and carting away their lost treasures, including but not limited to their narrow catalog of Kings Island Skee-Ball prizes and whatever autographed artifacts our boys can loot from the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Granted, this plan is thoroughly unworkable and entirely fictitious.  It’s also just as likely to become reality in my lifetime as any sincere mass transit plan ever to be conceived for Indianapolis.

If this meets with no one’s approval, then I’ll offer to withdraw my name from consideration for the Mass Transit Czar position under one condition: if and only if Key Cinemas grants me the favor of opening a second location on the west side.  That should cost us considerably less than thirty-eleven jillion dollars, even allowing for organic snacks.