Hopefully she bought travel insurance.

What’s in a name? For an Academy Award-winning movie, a title can conjure up all kinds of travel imagery, be it good, bad, or just weird. Since it’s Oscar week, let’s break down the best travel titles from the all time Best Picture list. With our own categories, of course.

Destinations

2002 – Chicago

1985 – Out of Africa

1962 – Lawrence of Arabia

1961 – West Side Story

1954 – On the Waterfront

1953 – From Here to Eternity

1951 – An American in Paris

1943 – Casablanca

1941 – How Green Was My Valley

1931/1932 – Grand Hotel

1929/1930 – All Quiet on the Western Front

1928/1929 – The Broadway Melody

Getting There – The Journey2006 – The Departed

1989 – Driving Miss Daisy

1981 – Chariots of Fire

1975 – One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest

1971 – The French Connection

1957 – The Bridge on the River Kwai

1956 – Around the World in 80 Days

1944 – Going My Way

1939 – Gone with the Wind

1938 – You Can’t Take It with You

1927/1928 – Wings

Romance!2001 – A Beautiful Mind

1999 – American Beauty

1998 – Shakespeare in Love

1990 – Dances with Wolves

1983 – Terms of Endearment

1967 – In the Heat of the Night

1964 – My Fair Lady

1949 – All the Kings Men

1947 – Gentleman’s Agreement

1934 – It Happened One Night

Bad Travel Memories2007 – No Country for Old Men

2005 – Crash

1997 – Titanic

1996 – The English Patient

1992 – Unforgiven

1986 – Platoon

1979 – Kramer vs. Kramer

1973 – The Sting

1945 – The Lost Weekend

1935 – Mutiny on the Bounty

Finally, if travel counts for anything in a film title, then this year’s winner should be Midnight in Paris.

This young train enthusiast would also later prevent a major derailment with his body.

Riding the “Hiawatha” line (great name for a train line, by the way) got me thinking about great train travel songs. There is certainly no shortage of songs about locomotives you can add to your travel playlist, whether the song’s hero is riding overnight, waiting for his girl, slumming it, or driving it while high on cocaine. At the risk of sounding like one of those grown men with a Lionel train set*, here is a sample list of suggested railroad songs for your listening enjoyment.

Aerosmith – Train Kept A Rollin’

Before “Sweet Emotion,” “Love In An Elevator,” “I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing,” and of course well before Steven Tyler’s judgeship on “American Idol,” Aerosmith (circa 1974 here) was simply a young blues and rock band cutting its teeth on the tour circuit, usually opening for bigger bands. (Imagine a time in popular music when a band could release two underwhelming albums, acquire a devoted following through constant touring, and still have the faith of its label before making it big – all without a song featured on an Apple commercial.) “Train Kept A Rollin’” was already a classic blues standard by the time Aerosmith gave it a try; the tune was a hit for Johnny Burnette in the ’50s, the Yardbirds in the ’60s, and a staple of Led Zeppelin shows. However, the Boys from Boston put arguably the best spin on it, with Joe Perry slowing down the locomotive-sounding riffs and Tyler giving the lyrics, already laden with innuendo (“with a heave, and a ho”) an added oomph. It was a style of music that the band would go on to perfect (and would define it).

Arlo Guthrie – City of New Orleans

A lot of people have probably heard the refrain to this song even if they don’t know its name. This folk tune about the Illinois Central Railroad could have been written for (or at least crassly appropriated for) a local morning show, a cereal commercial, or a Ronald Reagan campaign ad, but it was an earnest ditty penned by folk singer and Chicagoan Steve Goodman. His contemporary, Arlo Guthrie, would later make the song a hit, and country stars such as Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, and John Denver would also put their particular stamp on it. In an interesting twist, the lyrics start from the rider’s viewpoint, before switching in the refrain to the eponymous train, apparently singing about itself.

Gladys Knight & the Pips – Midnight Train to Georgia

“I’d rather live in his world than live without him in mine,” croons Gladys Knight about the man she loves, who couldn’t cut it in L.A. and is hightailing it back to his home (and girl, we presume) in Georgia. The man she sings about apparently “found out the hard way that dreams don’t always come true.” Ouch. His consolation prize is the steadfast woman waiting for him in the Peach State, shedding crocodile tears for his failed try at the big time but actually just happy he’s coming home.**

Roger Miller – King of the Road

For those of you ready to skip town with nothing but a few precious belongings tied in a kerchief around a broomstick, Roger Miller is here to glamorize the life of the train-hopping hobo. His clothes may be tattered, and he may smoke discarded cigar butts, but the man knows how to work the system. To you he’s a bum, but in that boxcar he’s a king. Here’s a lively television performance from 1965. Check out the audience reaction – you’d think Miller was the fifth Beatle.

The Monkees – Last Train to Clarksville

This is as simple as a train song can get – just get on the damned train, I’ll pick you up at the station, and I can’t hear anything on this phone because everybody’s talking so hurry up. It’s also unfailingly catchy, and an entertaining clip from the band’s TV show, through which the Monkees unwittingly invented music television.

Traveling Wilburys – End of the Line

That’s right, end of the line, folks. This is probably the best song from that late-80s “supergroup.” They’re letting us all know that “everything will work out fine,” and not to worry so much about the (final) destination but to enjoy the ride. In a sad coincidence, band member/legend Roy Orbison died of a heart attack shortly after contributing vocals to this tune. Consequently, the remaining Wilburys (George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Tom Petty, and Jeff Lynne) filmed the video as a tribute to Orbison. (Wilburymania would later storm the nation with “The Wilbury Twist”.)

There are, of course, dozens of famous train songs I’ve omitted, including James Brown’s “Night Train,” Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train,” the Beatles’ “One After 909,” and Duke Ellington’s “Take the A Train” (which is more of a NYC subway song that belongs on my NYC playlist). If you have any other suggestions, leave a comment.

*Does anyone remember the NBC Saturday morning live action show, “City Guys“? It was sort of an urban New York version of “Saved By The Bell” from the late ’90s/early ’00s. One of the teenage characters, Lionel, went by the nickname L-Train. Coincidence? Methinks not. Of course, now my blog will come up in Google searches for “City Guys.”

**Just one year after the night the lights went out in Georgia. Not sure whether one had anything to do with the other.

Astride the High Atlas Mountains in Morocco

My last Morocco entry was on Kelaa M’Gouna, aka the Rose Valley. After that, Lu and I basically had two more full days in the country. We took a bus through the Atlas Mountains and arrived in Marrakech in the evening, spent the next day there, and went to Casablanca for the night before flying out the next morning. We really crammed a lot into seven days, moving from Casablanca to Fes to the Sahara to Kelaa M’Gouna to Marrakech and back to Casablanca. It was thrilling but exhausting. We also had two connections on our way back, and returned to New York on a weekday, and had to be at work the next day. It probably took us a full week just to recover.

If I had to do it over again, I’d have hired a local guide to drive us around the country. Normally I don’t mind the adventure and discovery that comes with figuring shit out on your own, but in the case of Morocco, and in the case of traveling with my wife, I think a little more insider knowledge and structure would have helped. At our hotel in the Sahara, we met two English ladies who were traveling together but with a guide. They said it was a great way to travel because he’ll stop anywhere and anytime you ask, he knew the good places to shop and often had relationships with various businesses, he could fend off any persistent touts, and he knew and shared details on just about anything – history, culture, nature, etc. – things you might not even think to ask about but were excited to learn. The next time Lu and I visit a non-European country that’s not English/Spanish/Portuguese speaking, i.e. just about anywhere in Asia, the Middle East or Africa, we’re going to hire a guide for at least part of the trip.

Anyway, after relaxing and forgetting our troubles in Kelaa M’Gouna, Luciana and I asked Briham, the manager at Kasbah Itran where we were staying, if he could arrange a bus to Marrakech for us. The bus he arranged was definitely not from one of those French-owned lines – no air conditioning, old seats, funky Moroccan-style curtains, and maybe one other foreigner besides us. We didn’t mind doing as the Romans do, however, and we enjoyed the comparative minor disorder of people sitting in the aisles and shouting at each other in apparent everyday conversation. The real thrill came when the bus wound through the narrow highway that wrapped around the mighty High Atlas Mountains. Anyone who’s ever taken a mountain bus ride knows what I’m talking about; the trip down is especially palm sweat-inducing, especially when traffic has backed up into a kind of impromptu caravan, and the driver is riding the brakes on each turn like John Bonham pounding the bass drum. (Right?) The landscape was absolutely gorgeous, sufficiently so to take one’s mind off the possibility of a landslide death plummet: Red, yellow, and green bedrock, cascading waterfalls, roaming mountain goats, and tiny villages in lush valleys where the townsfolk were out doing laundry in a gentle mountain stream.

The Marrakech Express

At the end of the six hour bus ride, we arrived in Marrakech around 7 pm, and phoned the riad we’d booked the night before. That led to a confusing set of directions to the famous Jemaa el-Fnaa square, just outside Marrakech’s medina. The medina had wider lanes than the one in Fes, but was a hot mess nonetheless; we had to meander through a wedding procession and around a fistfight at one point before turning into a dark alley/tunnel and then down a darker and quieter one before arriving at the doorstep of our riad – which of course was beautiful and relaxing inside. (I cannot for the life of me remember the name of the riad, and I have no receipt or record.)

Our riad was through that door!

The next day we spent chasing my wife’s wedding ring, which consumed a good portion of our time. But we did walk the lanes of the medina, and Jemaa el-Fnaa, which may be crowded and touristy but is wondrously steeped in old world craziness. Snake charmers, juice merchants, dancers, medicine men, and chained Barbary apes all vie for your attention and money as you wander about, stimulated by every color, scent, and sound. My wife held one of the chained monkeys, which promptly began to unzip her backpack and peek inside (well-trained, eh?). Cinematic and historic, Jmaa el-Fnaa square is one of the must-sees of Morocco.

(Sadly on April 28, 2011, a couple of weeks after we were there, a bomb exploded in the square, killing 17 people and injuring 25.)

For a break from the hustle and bustle of the medina and souk area, be sure to check out the Jardin Majorelle, a fantastic botanical garden in the French district. Designed by French artist Jacques Majorelle in the 1920s and 30s, it is one of the most colorful and astounding botanical gardens I have visited. An adjacent cafe features a relaxing atmosphere, delicious food and tea, fragrant orange blossoms, and jets of watery mist to keep everything, plants and people (and the friendly stray cats that roam about) refreshed.

Jardin Majorelle

Luciana and I had an evening train back to Casablanca, so we waited at train station late in the afternoon and even sampled the local McDonald’s. (Change of pace, I guess.) That evening we arrived in Casablanca to spend the night before our morning flight at Hotel Guynemer. My Lonely Planet guide gave Guynemer an “Our Pick” marking, but I can’t believe it was for any reason other than as an historical curiosity. The place wasn’t an out-and-out dump, but it was clearly one of those formerly grand hotels that has been in a slow but marked decline for decades. You know the type: Inside there is an attitude of some kind of luxury and old-world charm, but you get the feeling that the people working there haven’t visited another hotel, or even stepped outside, in years. The room was musty, the bathroom was mildewy, the shower drain backed up, and the bed sucked. To add to the sad display, lights in the hallways and staircases went off automatically after a few minutes, and could only be turned on by pushing the buttons at the end of the hallways (no motion detection). Yet you could barely see the buttons once the lights were off. It was downright dangerous; you could be walking downstairs and suddenly find it nearly pitch black. The location was slightly sketchy and noisy at night. Normally noise doesn’t bother me so much, but together with the other shortcomings of Guynemer, it added up to a rough night’s sleep. As a place to flop for the night it’s okay, but even if I were a budget backpacker I think I’d avoid this place.

In any case we eventually fell asleep and took a cab to the airport the next morning, homeward bound. Our Moroccan odyssey had concluded, and it was definitely a whirlwind. Like I said, next time we’ll hire a guide….and keep our wedding rings on our fingers.

But what about us, the travelers – the customers? What can we do to be better? Maybe it sounds like a silly question at first blush, but I think it deserves to be asked and answered. Public decorum, especially in the United States, is not what it once was. The freedom to raise hell, and abundance of outlets through which to exercise this freedom, has loosened the bridles on social comportment; the line between customer satisfaction and righteous entitlement has been blurred. On some level, we acknowledge as much; that’s why a man like JetBlue flight attendant Steven Slater can become celebrated instead of vilified. Businesses aren’t without blame of course – they’ve played their part. But today let’s focus on how we can improve, in order to make our travel experience better for us and those around us.

Some of these suggestions may seem elementary, but they bear mentioning. You’d be surprised how many people don’t follow these precepts.

1. Educate thyself. Going to Mexico? Learn a few Spanish phrases. Headed to China? Find out what the etiquette is on tipping, or, for that matter, shaking hands. Do the Japanese slurp noodles or bite into them? The first step you can take to becoming a better traveler is to know something about the place you’re going, even if it’s an American-run resort in the Caribbean. Too many travelers expect the world to bend to their customs, and become frustrated and indignant when it doesn’t happen. There’s no shame in not knowing something, and most people will look past your ignorance. But you’ll impress the locals (and probably make more friends) if you study their ways before hand. You don’t need to read an entire travel guide cover to cover. Just brush up.

2. Dress appropriately. This starts at the airport. I don’t care if you have a 24 hour flight from Newark to Singapore; under no circumstances are sweat pants or pajamas appropriate attire for flying. Oh sure, I know it’s a free country and people do this all the time. But you’re not the one who has to look at you. Besides, how can you expect to be treated respectfully if you can’t dress respectfully?

Gone are the days when men wore their best suits on a plane, but you can still dress smartly without sacrificing comfort. I usually wear a button down, a blazer, a nice pair of jeans, and Oxfords or non-athletic-looking sneakers. I might bring a fleece in case the plane is cold. I sleep just fine. Now, I can’t speak for women’s attire, but I’m sure there’s something comparable to what I just described that won’t sacrifice your dignity the way pajama jeans and flip-flops do.

Shorts may be debatable, but I agree with Larry David:

Of course, once at your destination, appropriate attire is relative. Shorts and flip flops work in Costa Rica, while cargo pants are great for the African savannah. Suffice to say don’t dress like an asshole. Example: If you’re visiting Auschwitz, leave the Lebron jersey at the hotel.

3. Keep your carry-on luggage to a minimum. I know that by nickel-and-diming us with checked luggage fees, airlines have foisted onto themselves the opprobrium that is the Fee Wars. Passengers now want to carry on as much freight as possible to save money. On a recent AirTran flight, I saw one gentleman attempt to shove his enormous bag first under the seat in front of him (disturbing that seated passenger’s comfort), then into the overhead compartment. He looked like he was trying to push a fat man through an air duct to save his life. After a dozen or so violent nudges, he finally conceded that he should gate check the damn thing, but this was after wasting other passengers’ time (yet to take their seats and find their own precious luggage space) as well as the flight crew’s.

(In another example of righteousness, a young man shoved his carry-on suitcase into the overhead, right where an older man’s coat had been placed, scrunching it all the way to the back of the compartment. The older man got up and lit into him, rightly so. All the younger guy had to do was ask if he could move the coat first to make room. But with everyone fighting for their little piece of airplane real estate, courtesy often goes out the window.)

Measure your carry-on and don’t overstuff it. If you have any questions, ask an agent at the gate. You can usually have your bag gate-checked for free; is that so bad?

4. Be patient and understanding, even when mistakes are made. Believe me, I’ve violated this one plenty of times. Travel can be stressful enough, but when things don’t go according to plan, someone has to pay, right? A couple of years ago, my wife and I missed a connection in Atlanta due to “air traffic.” We got to the gate just as the door closed, and although we had been assured otherwise, no effort had been made to radio to them of our presence and impending (late) arrival. Told to go to the Delta help desk, I went – about to blow my stack. I tore into the customer service woman asking what Delta was going to do for us, blah, blah, blah. (The got us a hotel in Atlanta for half price.) I took the voucher and sat down at a bar and had a beer.

After calming down a bit, I walked back to the representative, and told her plainly that I was sorry for being so angry, but that I was just upset about missing our overnight flight to Rio. “I’m sure you get a lot of angry customers, and I know you’re just doing your job,” I told her. She accepted the apology and told me she understood my frustration.

I see this all the time, and what’s funny about it is that when it comes to travel, “you made a mistake” quickly turns into “where’s my restitution?” A flight to Chile I was on had to stop in Lima to drop off and pick up passengers; those of us going to Chile were allowed to keep our seats. Two college-aged guys were accidentally woken up and told to exit the plane. When they came back on they were reassigned seats they didn’t like. Supremely offended by having been abruptly awakened only to endure this discourtesy, these slack-jawed yokels (in sweat pants no less) started chewing into the very patient and professional LAN Airlines attendants. Not surprisingly, the next words out of their mouths was, “You can just bump us up to first class to make up for this.”

It wasn’t about being moved from window seats to middle aisle seats anymore; these guys just wanted to know what they could possibly get out of the airline for the injustice they’d suffered. The attendants kept their cool and explained to the men that they would find them two window seats (of course not in first class). The problem was solved, but would it have killed these guys to address the attendants with a little respect and humility? Those of us in the audience of this tempest in a teapot were sufficiently embarrassed by the attitudes of these two jokers, especially after having been treated so well by the flight staff.

The next time you’d like to petition for a redress of grievances, think about the flight attendant, the ticketing agent, or the customer service line representative. They listen to people like you bitch and moan all day. Remember that old idiom, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar? Try a little charm – you’ll get better results and you won’t make such an embarrassing spectacle. You’ll probably feel better, too.

However, I recently found a pleasant exception, which is Amtrak’s Hiawatha line that runs from Milwaukee to Chicago and back. I had business in Chicago, and definitely wanted to avoid the Windy City’s horrible auto traffic (I think it’s worse than New York’s). The Hiawatha seemed like a practical alternative.

It did not disappoint. The Hiawatha was noticeably cleaner than other Amtrak trains I’d taken, and the seats were wide and comfortable. It was early afternoon and hardly anyone was on my Chicago-bound train, so the ride through the Midwestern flatlands was quiet and relaxing. (Quiet cars are available if you find your car is crowded an noisy.) On the return trip, there were a few more passengers, mostly business travelers clacking away on laptops and engaging in friendly chatter. A food cart made its way up and down the aisle with snacks and drinks.

In less than 90 minutes, I had gone from Milwaukee’s General Mitchell Airport, the Hiawatha’s second stop after downtown Milwaukee, to Chicago’s Union Station.  The Hiawatha only makes two other stops between the two metropolises: Sturtevant, Wisconsin and Glenview, Illinois.

(Side note: if you’re going to Chicago and have to fly, consider using Mitchell – it’s a much nicer and friendlier airport than O’Hare, and a free shuttle connects the airport to the train station. Two low-cost airlines, AirTran and Frontier, fly into Mitchell; My AirTran ticket from New York LaGuardia to Mitchell cost me $98 round trip including taxes an fees (!). Unfortunately, Frontier announced last week it will be cutting back on Milwaukee-based flights and jobs. Hopefully, another discount airline will fill the void. JetBlue, are you listening?)

There are seven daily round trips, and at $23 each way it’s a sound alternative if not exactly a steal. Tickets may be bought online or at electronic kiosks. If you’re traveling on business it’s a great way to go, and you can get some work done on the way. If you’ve never visited either Milwaukee or Chicago (I highly recommend you do – they’re great towns) and want to knock off both in one trip, the Hiawatha is also convenient and relaxing.

*I searched for Amtrak tickets and airfare between New York and Washington for March 2 – 4. The prices were identical: $130 round trip. The difference is that Amtrak will get you there in no less than two hours 55 minutes. A flight takes a little over an hour.

With one exception: I’m fairly certain that my favorite song of all time is “Sloop John B.” by the Beach Boys. I’m not sure when or where I decided this; indeed, it’s clear from my vacillating tone that I’m not even sure that I actually DID decide it. Favorites always seemed pretty fluid to me. If you’d asked me at age eight my favorite song, I might have told you it was the theme to Ghostbusters by Ray Parker, Jr. Around 13 or 14 I was pretty sure it was Led Zeppelin’s other-worldly anthem “Kashmir.” There was even a time, ten or so years ago, when “In A Little While” by U2 hit the top of the Adam Underhill charts. That song kind of annoys me now.

But “Sloop John B.,” now there’s a tune I can get behind. It’s got a little bit of many things that I like: A muddled history, a Caribbean setting, a boat, a voyage, grits, fighting drunks, etc. What’s not to love? I can see why the Beach Boys covered it in 1966 for their landmark Pet Sounds LP, and why it went on to become one of their biggest hits. I’m not sure the first time I heard it, but it’s always sort of been there for me and I’ve never tired of it. Here is video of the band performing the song live in 1980, pre-Uncle Jesse on drums.

Despite the ubiquity of the Beach Boys’ version, the song has had many incarnations since it was first included, under the title “The John B. Sails,” in a book of songs by poet Richard Le Gallienne in 1917. No one is certain whether he wrote it or simply heard it and put it on paper, but by 1927 Carl Sandburg had included it in one of his folksong collections under the same title. In the ensuing years, the song was recorded by such artists as Alan Lomax (“Histe Up The John B Sail”), Johnny Cash (“I Want to Go Home”), Lonnie Donegan (“I Wanna Go Home [Wreck Of the 'John B']), and the Kingston Trio (“Wreck of the John B.”).

What’s interesting to me is how many white guys have covered the song, considering the fact that it was described back in 1917 as “one of the quaint Nassau ditties,” and clearly penned in a West Indian style of broken English. Whether this song was originally truly sung by black Nassau fishermen, or was just an example of white songsmith minstrelsy of its era, is unknown. Nevertheless, it’s a great tune to add to your travel playlist, because it reminds you that not every trip goes as planned. Sometimes you just wanna hoist up the sails and go home.

Previous Travelin’ Playlist Essentials:

Country Roads by John Denver

Ape Man by The Kinks

Roam by B-52s

Going to California by Led Zeppelin

New York City Playlist

Well, was I wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. New England never scored another point, and fell to the New York Giants, 21-17. Giants quarterback Eli Manning was simply clutch when it counted, while his counterpart Tom Brady was anything but. Brady accrued a grounding penalty that resulted in a safety on a foolish pass in the first quarter, and in the fourth he launched an underthrown bomb to Wes Welker that was picked off by Chase Blackburn for the only other turnover of the game (counting the safety as a turnover). There’s your ball game right there: Brady essentially gave the ball to the Giants twice and threw in two points for good measure. Near the end of the game, down four, the desperate Patriots needed a miracle touchdown instead of a more plausible field goal to win.

So what have we learned now that Super Bowl 46 and the NFL season is over?

1. Eli Manning is clutch. The guy has now conducted two fourth quarter, game-winning Super Bowl drives, both against the Patriots (Super Bowl 42 being the other). Manning, like his team, can be a hot mess during a game or a season, but in the big one he’s been ice cold.

2. For the umpteenth time, winning the Super Bowl is about which team is hot. The Giants were indeed that team (even though, by definition, any Super Bowl champion is). Sure, they won their division, but at 9-7 they looked like the weakest team in the field. Like the 2007 edition, the 2005 Steelers, and the 2010 Packers, these G-Men tossed their regular season record out the proverbial window and went on an impressive run. Meanwhile, teams that spent all season cultivating the appearance of dominance (the Packers, 15-1; the 49ers, 13-3; the Saints, 13-3) are at home, washing their tights. Having now been on both ends of the equation as a Packer fan – wild card Super Bowl champions one year, near-undefeated one-and-done the next – I guess all I can say is that the NFL’s competitive balance is a remarkable thing and makes for great entertainment.

3. The Belichick/Brady Patriots’ place in history is a little muddled. Sure, the franchise has been to five Super Bowls since Bill Belichick was hired, but it hasn’t won a Lombardi trophy since after the 2004 season. That seams like a long time ago now. A 3-2 record in the big game is nothing to be ashamed of, but another ring would have put this coach-quarterback tandem in the Noll-Bradshaw discussion (and Brady in the Joe Montana discussion). Now Brady is slipping into the Elway Zone, and Belichick into the Don Shula Zone. (I was shocked, however, to see the Boston Globe’s Eric Wilbur pile on Brady this hard so quickly after the game.)

4. Madonna’s halftime show was the best in recent memory. Admit it, there was a moment when she almost fell off the stage where you were thinking, “She shouldn’t be doing this.” But the 53-year-old nailed the performance, singing a medley of her hits while delegating the serious dancing to her squadron. Clearly, she doesn’t have the moves she had at 30, so she wisely left the fancy footwork to younger dancers. It was like a team with an aging but talented and wise quarterback that’s constantly turning over young talent at other positions to keep things fresh and competitive.

5. As if the parade of commercial excess weren’t enough, apparently now Super Bowl commercials must advertise for two companies at once. I saw an ad that hocked Chevy trucks as well as Twinkies, and later a spot for General Electric that turned into a Budweiser ad and then back to a GE commercial. Because God knows I’d never heard of any of these goddamn corporations before tonight.

And with that, the 2011 NFL season is in the books. Congrats to the New York Football Giants. Back to writing (mostly) about travel.

You can’t really call this a rematch; too much has changed in four seasons. And just as the Giants are a better team now than in the fall, so too are the New England Patriots. During the regular season the Patriots were cursed with a “bad” defense that gave up big yards; it’s cursed them all the way to 15 wins and a Super Bowl berth. Total yardage surrendered is a near-worthless stat. Think about it – how many yards is a defense willing to concede after it’s up by three scores? A team that scores early and often is liable to be in that position. Although the statistical sample is small – two games – New England in the playoffs has held opposing quarterbacks to a passer rating of 74.05.

“Yeah, but one of those games was against Denver and Tebow,” you say.

Oh, you mean the same Tim Tebow who chucked it for 316 yards and two touchdowns against the supposedly tough, Dick Lebeau-coached Pittsburgh defense in the wild card round? (That included the game winner in overtime.) Don’t get me wrong, Tebow’s not a world beater, but before the Broncos were blown out in Foxboro, a lot of people thought that if he could light up Pittsburgh, he could at least keep Denver close in a shootout with Tom Brady. Didn’t happen.

Not only that, but Brady had a dreadful game a week later against Baltimore, and the Patriots still won. Sure, they got lucky in the end, but the New England defense managed to hold the Ravens to 20 points, this on a day when Joe Flacco was otherwise throwing the ball well and the Baltimore offense was controlling the clock.

The Giants’ D has been equally impressive. It shut down the entire Falcon offense, then the Packers’ formidable passing game. Eli Manning, meanwhile, took shot after shot from the 49ers and hung tough, while receiver Victor Cruz played an exhausting game, doing everything he could to get open and catch the ball. The team plays hard for its coach and it’s hard not to appreciate the effort and execution (especially when they’re often been so lacking in the past few years).

Super Bowl 42 (Giants 17, Patriots 14) was one of the all time upsets, a 16-0 Team of Destiny versus a wild card underdog that didn’t belong. If those teams played ten games, the Patriots would win nine. The 2007 Giants were one of the weakest NFL champions in history, but they took down Goliath when no one (besides them) expected it.

This year is nothing like that. New England doesn’t seem invincible, and the Giants – even though they were 9-7 – seem like the “hot” team because they’ve turned their game around in the playoffs. (Note: Teams that make the Super Bowl are usually on some kind of hot streak.) There’s no “nobody believes in us” factor from outside; many people actually expect the Giants to win this game. (The betting line is Patriots by three.)

Still, I keep coming back to that Patriots’ defense – the one everyone expects will suck. That coupled with a sharp performance by Brady will spell defeat for the G-Men. They’ll have to play flawlessly to score another “upset.” I think the Patriots will win – and I think the margin will be bigger than expected.

The Pick: Patriots by 9.

Photo by Rich Press

With soccer’s World Cup and the Summer Olympics just two and four years away respectively, Rio de Janeiro has been under some fierce deadlines for cleaning up its act. As the Cidade Maravilhosa gets ready for its close-up, the powers-that-be have committed numerous and varied resources first to eradicating the violent criminal fiefdoms in the city’s vast and numerous favelas, and then to improving the quality of life for the residents within those hillside shantytowns.

Besides bettering such basic infrastructure as electricity, running water, and sewage, Rio has given the residents of the Complexo do Alemão favela a novel way of getting downhill: cable cars.

Luciana and I were there in December 2011, and while riding in a cab we were surprised to see for the first time the Teleféricos, as they’re known, busily hustling passengers up and down the hills of Alemão. We queried the driver about them, and he said that they were installed in the past year, and that if we wanted we could indeed hop on one and venture into the favela – an excursion that would have been unthinkable before the 2010 “invasion.” We had other plans, but maybe next time.

According to the Rio Times, the cars are capable of moving 3,000 passengers per day; rides are one Brazilian real (about 60 cents) and favela residents get two free rides per day, not to mention terrific views.