Whenever you're in St. Louis, always remember to lock your doors

Well, my parents came into town this weekend, and they haven't been here in 5 years. They are from Kansas, where my roots are. They say things like 'pop' instead of soda, 'Missoura' instead of 'Missouri'. And when I told my mom a story about flamenco dancers, she thought I said 'flamingo' dancers. Which put a really funny image in my head as I tried to imagine exactly what kind of dance flamingos would do. Here are my parents, by the way:

My dad is very tall, and is trying to kneel down to get closer to my mom's height.

It seems that when my parents are in town, we spend a lot of time eating. How can you not indulge when you visit St. Louis? Unless, of course, you hate toasted ravioli, provel cheese, and custard. But my parents are not those kinds of people. My father especially loves Cunetto's, on the hill. http://www.cunetto.com/

Every time they visit St. Louis, we try to go up in the Arch. There's always an issue, be it construction, a long line, or an elevator that's out. This time, no one wanted to go up in it. I, for one, finally went up into the Arch a few years ago, for the first time, and while I'm not claustrophobic, those mini elevators that shuttle you up to the top freaked me out. My mother had heard reports from a while back when the power went out in the Arch, and people were stuck in it. And my father? Well, they don't serve Cunetto's in the Arch, so he could care less.

So I thought we should go to the zoo. I love the zoo. http://www.stlzoo.org/ This year, they have lion cubs that are just at 1 year old, and if you love watching cats play, there is nothing quite as entertaining as watching lion cubs play. Brenden and I went a few weeks ago, and we sat for a while, watching them pounce on one another and chase birds up trees. Even if you've seen it on National Geo. or Animal Planet, seeing this in person is a treat. The zoo also has an exhibit right now called Stingrays at the Caribbean Cove, which is essentially a bunch of stingrays shoved into an above ground pool. But what's neat is that you can pet them, because their stings have been removed. And if your timing is right, you can even feed them. I didn't get to feed them, but I did pet them, and they will come right up to your hand like over sized aquarium fish. Their skin is velvety and slightly slimy.

My dad didn't seem thrilled about the zoo, so I suggested the art museum, and they agreed on that. And that's were we headed, the St. Louis Art Museum http://www.slam.org/ The Art Museum has to be one of my favorite places in St. Louis, but I don't always necessarily spend a lot of time looking at the art. It always served as more of a refuge, like a church or something. When I lived close by, I used to go there on my days off and wander around, just enjoying the atmosphere. The thing about the art museum is that the building itself is just as much of a work of art as any painting or sculpture there. I also used to go to art hill, the large hill right outside of the museum, to lie down on a blanket and read a book.

My friend Pamela made a good point about the art museum. When you live in St. Louis, you just know where to go. You don't spend much time going from painting to painting, because you have already done that. My parents, however, do not live in St. Louis. They went from painting to painting reading the descriptions posted. I went through Early European, Colonial American, Modernist and Abstractionist Art galleries, and returned to find them still in Early European.

Needless to say, we spent a long time at the art museum and didn't even see a fraction of it. But I think that for the most part, they saw what they wanted to see, and enjoyed it, which was the point. And mother had me take pictures of some of her favorite paintings, mainly Monet. I am not a huge fan of Monet, but when I went to take a picture of "Water Lilies," I came into the gallery and fell in love with this view:

That's a sculpture of a ballerina, and for some reason, coming in behind it like this filled me with a sense of peace. And I think this is the only time I've ever been in this room and it was completely empty (with the exception of my father, who I had to yell at to get out of the shot). I just love this photograph. Have I never come into this room from this entrance? And what is it about it? I don't know. . .it almost looks like a little girl is standing there, alone and entranced by Monet's "Water Lilies". Like she feels that same sense of peace.

Anyway, we left the art museum and went to Ted Drewe's Frozen Custard. http://www.teddrewes.com/

I would like to apologize for having the same 2 pictures of the Ted Drewes sign. I'm not really sure how that happened, or why I can't delete them, but I'm new at this, so I'm sorry.

Ted Drewes custard, famous for their concretes, which is basically like a Blizzard, only with custard instead of ice cream. My best friend Danielle described them the best--"It's like when you're little, and you get ice cream with a bunch of toppings on top, and then you take your spoon and mix it all up before you eat it." My father, being a newbie, ordered a large one. I strongly suggested he change his order to a small, maybe a medium, but he did not heed my warning, and then proceeded to complain about being too full for dinner. Custard is incredibly rich and probably twice as bad for you as ice cream. The first time I tried it, I became sick. Why did I return to it? Because it's that good. You just have to adapt to the richness, just like you have to learn how to stomach all of the bad food St. Louis has to offer without gaining 50 lbs. over a weekend.

And last, but not least, I took my father to the Lamborghini/Ferrari/Bentley/Maserati Dealership in Chesterfield Valley. http://www.bentleystl.com/ This place is an art museum in it's own right. Unlike a typical car dealership, they have only showroom space. And they don't let you test drive. I couldn't get any pictures of the inside because it was closed when I was there with my camera, I do have some pictures on the outside.

The last one is a picture of the Lamborghinis through the glass. Strangely enough, we had a moment to go back the next day, when they were open, but I forgot my camera. Which is unfortunate, because I had the chance to get into one, and it might be the only time. It was tangerine orange, and while I usually have a problem fitting into sports cars and reaching the pedals, as they are usually made for men with long legs, I adjusted it and fit in very comfortably. I touched the steering wheel, and was shocked at how soft it was. Suede. The dashboard was made entirely of leather. I let my hands run lovingly over it, and then returned them to the steering wheel. Looking around, I had that same sense of peace that I felt when I walked up behind the ballerina sculpture at the art museum. After a few moments of sitting there, I finally opened the door and got out. My mother freaked out: "Chris!! You're not supposed to be in there!" "Don't worry, mom, it's fine. . ." I said this as I looked to my left and noticed the sign requesting that no one sit inside the cars. Oops. "Well. Then why was it unlocked?!" I demanded. I mean, how irresponsible are they?

I will follow up with some more pictures of the art museum.