Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Across state lines

Last Sunday, we decided to get out of the house. Even more exciting, we decided to leave the state (again). Oh, did we mention that we already went across state lines to Branson, Missouri a few weeks ago? Perhaps our neglect resulted from the fact that Branson was sort of like a hillybilly Vegas. No offense to Vegas, or to hillybillys, but it wasn't exactly our cup of moonshine. Though, I must say, on my next visit, I will absolutely partake in one of the many "Old Timey Photo" places that line the Branson strip.

Anywhooooo, this past weekend we went West to Tulsa, Oklahoma. Thanks in large part to my intern friend who went to graduate school there and recommended some great places to visit, we had a lovely time. First we hit up an Indian buffet, which was pretty good but not fantastic (it is pretty hard to screw up Chicken Tikka Masala). After a disappointing side trip to Marshalls, we went to the Philbrook Museum of Art. It's essentially a huge Italian villa in the middle of Tulsa, surrounded by beautiful large historic homes. The house itself is worth viewing, and it was turned into an art museum with some purdy gardens. I kind of felt like I was in Europe. I mean, seriously:

We took a leisurely, albeit hot as the dickens, walk around the gardens, stopping at the gazebo for a visit with a wise bench and a random garden gnome:

The museum was also nice, though I must admit that the Sante Fe room in the basement, complete with examples of pottery from a bunch of Pueblo tribes, made me sharply and strongly "homesick" for New Mexico. I put that in quotes because it seems silly to be homesick for a place I lived just over a year, but my deep and abiding love for New Mexico in general and Albuquerque in particular has not lessened in the slightest.

After our museum tour, we headed to the Sunday-desolate downtown area and ended up at Fassler Hall, which was awesomeness incarnate. A big German beer hall, complete with long wooden tables and a shitload of German beers on tap, it was empty of customers but large in fabulousness. Even though we had stuffed ourselves on Indian food a few hours before, we could not resist splitting one of their handmade bratwurst, know that noise that Homer Simpson makes when he thinks about a doughnut? That's the noise I make in my head when recalling that bratwurst. If a meat eater and ever in Tulsa, make it a priority.

Essentially we learned that Tulsa is a pleasant two hour drive with some excellent entertainment options. Next time, the aquarium!

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