PostcardTravelers.com A Photographer's Journey

A Photographic journal of Alameda Antiques Show 2011 Stacy Poulos Photography

StacyPoulos.com — 2011-05-24T22:05:33Z

A Photographic journal of Alameda Antiques Show 2011 Stacy Poulos Photography

I love the Alameda Point Antiques Faire! It makes me dizzy because there are so many cool things I want to take home! 1st Sunday, every Month
http://www.alamedapointantiquesfaire.com/

Alameda Point Antiques Faire
2900 Navy Way (at Main Street)
Alameda, CA 94501

Enjoy the video Stacy Poulos Photography
Music By Ronnda Cadle
http://ronndacadle.com
Produced by ©2011 www.playback.net

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© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Miss Pearl’s Jam House Creole Gumbo And Jack London Square, Oakland Ca By Stacy Poulos

StacyPoulos.com — 2011-05-23T06:10:59Z

Miss Pearl’s Jam House Creole Gumbo And Jack London Square, Oakland Ca By Stacy Poulos

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I love a great discoveries! Today I toured the 'Jack London Square bay' taking photos on a Kayak with a friend. We went in the public entrance at Jack London Square, free to launch my own kayak, and my friend rented a paddle board $15.00 an hour at "California Canoe And Kayak" which was very helpful and lots of cool stuff to buy. We parked our car for $5.00 for 12 hours a block away takes cash and cards.

After, my friend wanted to go a restaurant 'with a view of the water' and we were too dressed down from paddling to go in any of the fancy restaurants, so we poked around and found 'Miss Pearl’s Jam House' Cuisine Inspired by the Caribbean Islands. It looked fancy, but we asked if it was ok the way we were dressed, and they welcomed us with open arms. When I saw 'gumbo' on the menu I knew that's what I wanted. I am always excited and leery about restaurants that claim to make 'Gumbo' I've had the best 'Gumbo' in the center of New Orleans. And I haven't come close to what I've experience yet and that's always a disappointment when your pallets been so sophisticated. So I took a chance. I ordered the "Creole Gumbo" (Pulled chicken, Andouille sausage, Tasso ham, Gulf Prawns, and Okra, floating around a cup steamed rice) ($18.00). I'm not a huge fan of Okra, so I asked them to use a little less, and dice it. They were happy to accommodate me and my 'high maintenance'. It was soooo good, I am trying to figure out when I can come back again. I forgot to ask for extra sauce, as I do for everything I ever order, but it came plenty saucy already- woo hoo extra bonus! The meats were of high quality had a great texture and flavor.

My friend had just a few appetizers, very tasty 'Rosemary Polenta' ($4.00) and 'Seasonal vegetables' ($4.00) which happen to be 'Young Broccoli marinated in fresh (un-refrigerated, huge difference!) potent Garlic cooked absolutely perfect.

So as the sun fell on the water, we enjoyed a superb 2008 Petite Sirah; R&B Cellars Pizzicato, Napa Valley's; Rock Wall Wine Company ($9.00 glass). www.rbcellars.com From a very fun and knowledgeable waiter and staff that checked in often. They went as far as letting me in the kitchen to get a photo. If you didn't get the window view, the restaurant is uniquely designed with beautiful mosaic sea shell tiles on the wall. If you go into the bar, they have live music as well, and a nice atmosphere. I'm definitely coming back soon. Problem is, there looks like a lot of good stuff on the menu, but I think I'll have the gumbo again, and warm up to the chef for the recipe.

Caio’ for now. -Stacy

Miss Pearl’s Jam House
Cuisine Inspired by the Caribbean Islands
One Broadway, Oakland, CA 94607
Jack London Square
at the Water Front Hotel
Telephone: 510.444.7171
http://www.misspearlsjamhouse.com

California Canoe And Kayak
Oakland Retail Shop
409 Water Street
Jack London Square
Oakland, CA 94607
http://www.calkayak.com/store_oakland.cfm
510-893-7833

PS Make sure if you go on the estuary it's not too windy, paddling up wind is a lot of work.

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A Superb Stake & The Maltese Falcon At John's Grill In San Francisco

StacyPoulos.com — 2011-01-31T07:37:00Z

A Superb Stake & The Maltese Falcon At John's Grill In San Francisco
-By Stacy Poulos

John's Grill
63 Ellis St., San Francisco, CA 94102
(between 4th St & Market St)
Neighborhood: Union Square
(415) 986-0069
www.johnsgrill.com

When you've been around since 1908 you know someone has carried on the torch. After spending 3 day's at a MacWorld convention I thought I'd treat myself to a great meal. As I walked down Powell Street I passed by an officer and said "I know you must know where a good place to eat a reasonably priced steak is around here". He pointed right up the street to 120 Powell at 'Tad's Steak Restaurant' and said you can get a good steak for around 15 buck's (almost with a New York accent). So I went in that direction, before crossing Ellis St, being a good citizen looking both ways before I crossed the street, to my right 'John's Grill since 1908' caught my eye. It rang a bell for me, so I thought I'd peek in and it was the home of the movie 'The Maltese Falcon'. It's a little more spendi for my budget. But as a filmmaker, I couldn't help but want to sit in a room where Sam spade from the movie sat and be inspired by History. Why not spoil myself once in a while.

I will say, as frugal as I am, I have a very sophisticated pallet for a great quality steak. My mom spoiled us with her restaurant sized indoor grill and teated us to a good T-bone or New York steak once in a while. Not to mention, we got our meat from cows my step dad's family had raised in Portland Oregon. So trust me, I know a good quality steak. I start out on a steak adventure very skeptical, that it will be near as good as what I have grown up to know. A great steak needs just salt and pepper. Sometimes a hint of butter and garlic.

Going in a fancy restaurant as a single female alone, isn't always a nice greeting. I was pleasantly surprised all the way around. The first thing I thought about when they sat me down and brought me bread and butter, was the great tasting San Francisco sourdough bread (my best friend in Alabama makes me bring her a loaf when I visit). Most restaurants have this chewy bread. Even if it's freshly made nothing compares to a SF sourdough bread crust. It has its own taste and texture. Even though there's a "Sam Spade’s Chops (Broiled lamb chops)" on the menu, I had myself a nice Medium rare New York USDA Prime or Certified Black Angus, the finest available. Corn-fed in the Midwest, it is specially selected for the highest quality and naturally aged for maximum flavor and tenderness steak. Yummy! Perfect flame broiled on the outside and rare on the inside. The flavor of the meat was superb, As I enjoyed live jazz filling the air.

33 bucks for the steak includes seasonal vegie, a baked potato and roaming around the unofficial museum of San Francisco's rich History. On the walls are many famous people who have visited including the late Jack Lalanne who said my newest favorite quote "The worst thing you can do to your body is not use it". I sat across from the 1984 Olympic Torch. You know they have to know someone to have that. It's a different experience than going to a museum and observing, than actually sitting where films have inspired a part of your career. Before I left, I got my photo taken next to the Maltese Falcon and Emmy Award to inspire my next generation of filmmaking with a great meal underneath my belt and new technology to expand my horizon.

A Superb Stake & The Maltese Falcon At John's Grill In San Francisco
-By Stacy Poulos www.PostcardTravelers.com

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Determination

StacyPoulos.com — 2010-10-14T04:41:00Z

Determination is like spilled water flowing on a mission, it doesn't stop until it reaches its goal. It doesn't always know its being pulled by an invisible force manifested by gravitation,the human spirit. The direction isn't always as relevant as its missions journey that survives obstacles, because of the compelling pull of gravitation to its destiny. A journey that has no end because it resides in the heart and soul. -Stacy Poulos

Photo "My Favorite Perspective" City Of Refuge, HI

http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Oakland Greek Festival Is Off The Hook, Travel To Greece in Oakland

StacyPoulos.com — 2010-05-24T20:01:00Z

Oakland Greek Festival is my favorite of all Festivals. Always the 3rd weekend in May, like a lot of events, but I always find room for it. I have been to Greece and I am Greek. My Grandfather or Papo Achellies Poulos played the Oud (Greek guitar) and was best friends and played with Marko Melkon in the 1950's. When my Grand Mother, or Yaya, Maria Stevens, or Stavos, herd my grandfather was coming to America she went down to the ship yard and woo'ed him over to marriage. Maria was coined the Grandmother of Greek cabaret in the 1950's 'Variety Magazine ' and started Belly dancing in the United States. She entertained thousands, including Greek tycoon Aristotle Onassis. I have a tambourine (pictured below photo by Lynette; gildedserpent.com) made by Greek prisoners, signed by famous Belly dancers in the 1950's. I also have an original menu from one of her restaurants. I have a very rich and interesting heritage, including my Yaya got arrested during prohibition for serving alcohol. Go Grandma!

The marriage wasn't a match made in heaven but lasted long enough to bare 3 children my dad; John Poulos (A Bay Area Bartender and President of Entertainment East Magazine pictured below), twin brother Alex Stevens (President of East Coast Stuntmen's Association. People are most are impressed when I tell them he was the stuntman for Frank Sinatra (pictured below), when I was a kid I was enthralled by the fact that he was the Ware Wolf on 'Dark Shadows' (pictured below). How cool is it to say your uncle's a Ware wolf? I was young enough at the time to believe he really was one. They also had another daughter... my Aunt Ann Poulos, who I never got a chance to meet. There is a lot of rich Greek/American culture running around the festival behind the scenes that makes me feel at home. Some familiar with my Papo and my Yaya. As for my Uncle, he always says he's "Practically Famous".

The food is the best! Gyros in Greece are much different, they don't have ground meat, but they are excellent just the same. They serve; Gyros; ground meat, tomato, onion, and tzatziki sauce -yogurt, sour cream, garlic & cucumber, served with pita bread), Spanakopita; Spinach & feta pie in phyllo, Tyropitakia; Feta Cheese Pie Triangles in phyllo, Loukaniko; Greek Sausage; Cooked on grill with oregano and lemon), this year they added a treat; Avgolemono Soup; Greek Lemon Chicken Soup. All of which I eat on my first day! I'm still full. It's not everyday you get this quality of Greek food in one location. These are not trained professionals in the kitchen, they are authentic Greek grandmothers showing off their talents (maybe with a little grandma to grandma, or yaya to yaya competition) in the kitchen handing down there skills and tradition to the next generation.

There is also Souvlakin; marinated chunks of meat on little skewers Chicken and beef, Greek Halloumi; cheese grilled, topped with capers salad dressing, Dolmathes; stuffed Grape leaves, Greek salad; lettuce, tomatoes, onions, olives, feta cheese, vinaigrette, and to my surprise they had a Greek salad in a pita with my favorite salad dressing 'Greco Fusion' from Elio's Family Restaurant (The Eliopoulos's) they now bottle and sell. Ironically they had an AD at the Gyro booth for the dressings that I made (Photos, layout and printing). They happen to be a customer of mine, I made the restaurant and the dressings website eliosfoods.com and eliosdining.com

I'm not even going to start with desserts, but mention my favorite; Baklava; flaky fillo filled with ground walnuts & cinnamon, topped with homemade honey sauce. Yummy! Maybe on Sunday. You might even run into Dee Andronico volunteering, she is one of the founders of Andronico's markets; also another client of mine. A few years ago I was honored to make a video of their 75th year History, played at the prestigious Paramount theater (Pictured standing with Bill Andronico President of Andronico's on stage), my first video on the silver screen.

If you end the day with a Greek espresso be prepared to have something that resembles mud in the bottom of your cup, Greek style they don't filter out the grounds. When you go to a Greek festival be prepared to do as the Greeks do. What I love about the Oakland Greek Festival is the atmosphere, they import a Mykonos type windmill as you walk through the front door, the center piece is the beautiful Greek Temple, with rows of pillars, Greek blue windows. Inside the temple is one large room where a wispier will echo throughout the temple, religious icons painted on a copper sealing. Not many know but the rocks are also imported from Greece.

You can dance to several bands, watch period dressed Greek dancers, while you sip on a Imported Greek wine or American/Greek wine made in California; Lolonis, they even have Retsina - defiantly an an acquired taste. Or if you prefer there is micro brew, and Mythos; a Imported Greek logger. And of course, there are plenty of non-alcoholic beverages including a Iced Frappé coffee. Lots of vendors selling Greek Imports, cloths, jewelry, religious icons, paintings, photography, tee shirts, music, etc. There are also cooking demonstrations, if you want to try your hand in cooking Greek style.

The people are fun to work with, they are all members, or friends of the church and volunteer (Like I do). I always volunteer to bartend, proceeds go to build their church, it's a great cause, and event, usually packed out.

The Oakland Greek Festival is as close to Greece you will get in America. You can get discount coupons from there website www.oaklandgreekfestival.com/ Elio's, and Luke's Grill in San Leandro www.yelp.com/biz/lukes-grill-san-leandro havesome Greek dishes for those of you who crave Greek food in betweenGreek Festivals. Or you don't have a Yaya to whip up something for you. The next festival up, local to me is the Castro Valley usally inOctober. The Festival's sometimes hosted in Hayward at the Centennial Hall. I prefer when it's out doors in Castro Valley at their church,but with the weather so unpredictable it's a safer bet for them inside.It's another place to enjoy great Greek food, family and entertainment.I typically bartend there too. Hey, it's easier than working the salad bar like I did one year. www.cvresurrection.org

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Duplicity, Starring hot Clive Owen, and hotter Julia Roberts with a great twisted plot to boot

StacyPoulos.com — 2010-05-19T23:07:00Z

Duplicity, Starring hot Clive Owen, and hotter Julia Roberts with a great twisted plot to boot! By Stacy Poulos
PostcardTravelers Movie reviews

Duplicity (2009) PG 13
4 stars!

Cleverly written and directed by Tony Gilroy. This romantic comedy spy-thriller Stars hot Clive Owen, and hotter Julia Roberts, to name a few. A pair of corporate spies who share a steamy relationship.

I love watching movies where they take you places I've been, or want to go. Duplicity starts out in Dubai, other scenes in Rome, Zürich;Switzerland, New York City and other places. Nothing like bring you back to a moment in time. One of the scenes takes place in Rome or as they say their "Roma" and depicts the quaint and rustic feeling ofRoma I miss.

This is a great twisted plot of corporate spy's. As a writer and filmmaker I love the twisted story. As a World Traveler I love the scenes. As a business owner I love the inside scoop of what goes on in the Corporate world. As a fan of hustler movies like, my all-time favorite hustlers; Whoopi Goldberg as in Burglar 1987 and Ghost 1990,and Chevy Chase in "Fletch" to name a few.

I'm not going to ruin the movie it by telling you what goes on, just make it a night you pay full attention. The move jumps around in time and can get a little confusing. I like it so much I'm going to buy it.

Read more at: www.netflix.com/

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You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Lee's Hoagie House: Highly Recommended! Norristown, PA

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-11-14T07:48:13Z

Lee's Hoagie House: Highly Recommended!
2896 Dekalb Pike
Norristown, PA 19401

(610) 279-0800

www.leeshoagiehouse.com

I've never been to PA (Pennsylvania) and was looking forward to
going, a friend of Local Pages Publishing (a local
phone book) recommended I try 'Lee's Hoagie House' for a Pennsylvania
style Hoalgie while I was in the Norristown Area.

I tried there special an "Italian Hoalgie", and I loved
it. I loved it so much I wanted to go back for dinner but they were
closed. Hungry for that experience again, I tried another place nearly across the street, and it
ruined my experience. Just cuz there in Pennsylvania doesn't mean
everyone who claims to make a good one, does. It actually bothered me
me so much, I went back the first opportunity I had to have another
one. The freshness in the bread took it over the top and the dressing
gave it a nice kick. The other place was like eating a dry sponge. My
guest let me try her stake Hoalgie with mushrooms, and that was good
to. I can go to Pennsylvania and be happy just eating the Hoalgies.
Next time I'll just get a stake with mushroom. The atmosphere was a
deli / sports appeal. I don't like sports but I love the charm and
love the food. It's a good get-it-and-go. It's located in a
not-so-fancy strip mall. But the quality of food is outstanding. Just a few
doors down from a fish store, you have to see
Nemos Aquarium... I don't know if you can bring in your lunch
and hang out but I promise you will want to see there shark tank and
100's of different fish, most of all, the amazing live coral. I
have never seen before and I'm a diver.

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

As you can see it is a little messy with dressing dripping, that dressing and the peppers gives it a unique kick.
The bread has that fresh chewy texture while the inner bread is soft pillow of freshness.

This is what I'm coming back for next.

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Catalina Island Sunrise On Avalon,

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-09-16T06:03:49Z

Category: Catalina Island,

Sunrise On Avalon 360

Catalina Island Life In A Nutshell; Flying Fishes

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-09-03T18:05:50Z

Category: Catalina Island, Life In A Nut Shell

Greeting from Catalina Island this photo was taking this morning in the City of Avalon.

There will be much to tell about Catalina I was conceived here along with my two brothers. This is a story about how my parents met on the island. Right now I'm interviewing my mom about how she moved here when she 19 years old.

From the book "Life In A Nut Shell" ...

Flying Fishes
By Stacy Poulos 1996

One of my favorite memorable childhood adventures was when I was 12 years old. It was a life-changing year for me. My mom and I went to Catalina Island for the summer. It wasn't the first time I had been there. I was actually conceived there, conceived in love. My mom met my very handsome dad and fell in love. They both lived on the island for a few years but chose to live and raise their children on the mainland. Whether or not the marriage lasted through my first birthday, I was still conceived in love, conceived in the American dream of white picket fences and having a dream life with children. I consider Catalina my birthplace because of it, even though I popped out of my mother's womb on another island 400 miles away up North in Alameda. Catalina is where my seed was planted. It is where my heart lies.

I had been to Catalina many times since the age of twelve. It has always been a faint memory to me where fish really did fly. And the first time I flew in an airplane and it landed on the water, I thought that was normal. Even though the memories of my biological dad were just visits because they divorced when I was one year old. I cherished every picture of my parents together in Catalina. I was blessed by their divorced and by my mom marrying my step dad, who was the calm in my life. Not that my biological dad was a bad man, he just never wanted to grow up and that is still true today. My mom liked to say he was a beach comber. That was OK too because we were blessed with my step dad who took the torch when I was five and raised us as though we were his own. We were lucky.
When I think about it, it was really important to go to Catalina alone with my mom, to bond with her without competing with my two brothers. I felt a sense of maturity and specialness. There is no doubt my mom favors her first born, which isn't me. Me and my younger brother laugh about it sometimes. But 1976 was my year. My brothers and step dad were scheduled to come when we found a place to stay for all of us. In the meantime me and my mom stayed at the Glenmore Hotel. I remember it as if it was yesterday. At night before we would go to sleep in the tiny bedroom with the shared bathroom down the hall, my mom would instruct me to go to the adjoining restaurant down stairs and have them fill up her thermos with a pot of coffee. I didn't mind at all. That made me independent and on my own on the big island before she would wake in the early afternoon. She would give me extra money to buy a hot chocolate while I waited for the coffee to brew. I can still hear the sound of the chocolate whipping around in the brewing machine. I remember the super thick white mugs and the canned whip cream on top. No, I did not mind a tall. Many of the old timers knew my mom. When you live on the Island most everyone has two or three jobs, if not more. My mom was a beautician and worked for Lolo's, which is a barbershop next to the bus depot.

I remember when I was three years old, she brought over two mean baby-sitters to watch us. My youngest brother had just had his first birthday, so he doesn't remember, but they talked pig Latin so we wouldn't understand them. I specifically remember holding onto my mom's leg crying because I didn't want her to leave for work, ass he walked down the steep hills trying to brush me off so she wouldn't be late. Normally, me and my older brother Steve would fight.He hated it when I was born because I got all the attention. In fact, you can find 20-30 pictures of him as an infant but only one of me and my face was scribbled on. It cost my mom $150.00 to reconstruct my picture so I had at least one. Once the scribble was off I could see why my brother was so jealous. Even my first picture with Santa Claus had scribbles on my face. But this trip we stuck together in fear of the baby sitters.

If you hold a seashell up to your ear you can hear the sounds of the ocean captured in the spiral of it's shell. When I think of Catalina, I hear distinctive sounds, see images, and smells. There is this beach on the Island called "Lover's Cove" and it's made of millions of small stones. It's loud because as the water crashes up against the stones, it has a unique crashing sound. As the water seeps back out to the ocean, the stones tumble over each other. It creates a mixture of sounds, like the sound of rain mixed with a gigantic cold Coke-a-Cola being poured into a glass of ice in a hollow echo chamber. If you're brave enough to get in the water after painfully walking on the rounded rocks, you will be greeted with schools of fish waiting to be fed. If you bring food to feed them they will eat right out of your hand. Lots of them. Enough to scare you,especially since you're in the middle of them and they're nibbling at your feet. It's always fun to snorkel there and watch the tourists freak out when they think they are being attacked by schools of fish. One time I met this cute tough guy named Vinnie, from Brooklyn of all places. He wanted to go snorkeling. I had taken snorkeling lessons and desired to dive someday. I started collecting used scuba equipment at flea markets. I told him he could go with meat the dive park on the outskirts of the Casino. There you will find less fish and more seaweed. Tall forests of seaweed 30 feet high where the tops rest on the top of the water. A little more scary than being attacked by fishes I might ad. We went together. He was so scared he was hyperventilating in the middle of the park and I didn't have a lot of sympathy. I was gagging on salt water from laughing so hard. He decided to get out and snorkel another day at the kiddies pool at 'Lover's Cove.' Casino snorkeling was for the big girls.

I remember the beauty and the smell of the ocean at Catalina.Mostly from the walkway to the casino. (In Spanish, casino means gathering place). What makes it so special is the walkway to the Casino is romantically lit in the evening. On one side of the stone paved walkway is a small cliff, and on the other side is the harbor with boats and docks that line the harbor before it reaches out to open ocean. At the end of this setting is this huge round building eloquently lit and characteristically balanced with palm trees to accent the ocean. Since there are limited cars on the island, you periodically hear a scooter or a golf cart drive by. Or a small boat(called dingies) cruising around the harbor in the night to get to their Yacht or sailboat. Every once in a while, a water taxi will bring the boat owners home or to the dock for a night on the town.It's a mesmerizing experience and if you're with someone with the potential for romance, you get the feeling that it was meant to be.Sometimes it's just a good place to be in your skin and think about your future, which I did often. It's a scene you want to see nightly when you have the chance.

There are so many stories to tell about Catalina, from my adolescence to my youth, when I decided how I was going to start my own business. The unique thing about being there was I always felt present and clear in my life with what I wanted to do. The friends I made with the islanders, even the ones that got away. But most of all it was the only time I really spent that special time alone with my mom. © 1996

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

Respect

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-09-01T23:01:10Z

Respect is a unwritten contract. Love is unconditional, even through
time. Self-respect is laying down the boundaries. And it doesn't
always come cushioned in cotton candy. -Stacy Poulos

--

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

'Life In A Nutshell' compared to Best Sellers 'Eat, Pray, Love' and more...fe

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-08-28T17:19:48Z

By it now

Reviews:

Listen to this recent endorsement by Cheryl Aloftman In Alabama, 1/2009 [Listen]

(Owner of Cheryl's Cafe In Spanish Fort Alabama)

"I Laughed so hard I cried... I literally laughed all day..."

Cheryl Reads tons of books, and compares 'Life In A Nutshell' to "The Autobiography of Eric Clapton", "Here's the Story: Surviving Marcia Brady and Finding My True Voice", By Maureen McCormick's, The Autobiography of Kathleen Turner" and the recent two Best Sellers "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert, and Oprah controversy book "A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. Hear's what she has to say.

'Life In A Nutshell' to "The Autobiography of Eric Clapton", "Here's the Story: Surviving Marcia Brady and Finding My True Voice", By Maureen McCormick's, The Autobiography of Kathleen Turner" and the recent two Best Sellers "Eat,Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert, and Oprah controversy book"A Million Little Pieces" by James Frey. Hear's what she has to say.

"you have me rolling on the floor over here. I haven't laughed this hard in a long time, and I'm only half way through. I like the counseling story, and the ink on the bed sheets. Oh and I like drinking the water out of the vase... OMG, I never thought you were this funny. LOVING IT!!! I loved the candid short stories full of humor and inspiration. It is refreshing to read about someone's perseverance through the pitfalls in life. I honestly had a hard time putting it down. A feel good read!!! My favorite and I laughed to the point where I couldn't see through my eyes, was you bitching about Chaos, and you were bent over tying your shoe, as you look up you get a glimpse of the toothpaste on top of the TV. ...I was rolling. I guess I read the way you write, so it is like a movie or short clip.You are now officially my new favorite author, hee hee!" - Tammy Yaxtheimer, San Leandro, CA

Description: is like spilled water flowing on a mission, it doesn't stop until it reaches its goal. It doesn't always know its being pulled by an invisible force manifested by gravitation, the human spirit...

Synopsis:

Stories Along An A extraordinary Journey
About the Author:Stacy Poulos-
Me, I was the Cinderella type, wanting to save the planet, idealistic about my future, having that innocence that the worlds a good place with good people, etc, etc, blah, blah, blah,waiting for my handsome prince to come sweep me away. I envisioned and pursued a unique and fun life and career as film producer and a photographer since I was 7. I was ready and willing to endure the pitfalls with poise. In my experience I found the funniest things in life aren't funny at all ...at the time. But when I somewhat gracefully survived and reflected... I always found the ironic humor in them as I learned from my mom. When people meet my mom, there mouth is usually dropped open. I watch them as they're amazed at some of the things that comes out of her mouth. Such as sympathy is between -shit and syphilis- in the dictionary. This book is a accumulation of stories I wrote over the years on my journey of sibyl rivalry, going to college,starting and maintaining a business on a shoestring budget, driving shitty cars, and surviving relationships. I was sure I was going to pull out of every short coming and these were just little set backs before I made my way to the top. Its frigin funny now. Determination is like spilled water flowing on a mission, it doesn't stop until it reaches its goal. It doesn't always know its being pulled by an invisible force manifested by gravitation, the human spirit. The direction isn't always as relevant as its missions journey that survives obstacles, because of the compelling pull of gravitation to its destiny. A journey that has no end because it resides in the heart and soul.

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

Contents:
For my Mom, Introduction, In A Nutshell, Dedication, Acknowledgments, Cake Mix, Candied Hearts, The Mistress 21, Sweet William in the Morning, Wild Bill atNight, Mr. Bojangles, Flying Fishes, Hand-Me-Down Cars, Tow Truck From Hell, Three Minute Eggs, Macaroni & Cheese, In A Pickle, My Brother Dopey, Female Appointment, Dirty Harry, Out Of Toilet Paper?, 29 And Only One Grey Hare, Dr. Jeckel and Mr. Kera-Beaucoup, Being Dinged, My Nana and Bill, Rhetorical Question?, Something Else The Easter Bunny Brings, Bachelor Bachelorette Pad, Larry Cracker Jack,Crackpot Counseling, Inc., Single And Available!, My OtherBrother Dope-y, Tampons, Kitchens, and Bathrooms;, Designed By Men, Made For Women, Its All About The Egg!, Aliens Have TakenMy Mother, Splitting Atoms & Stamping Envelopes, Mid Stream, From the book Beer Notes & Coffee Stains, Beer Notes &Coffee Stains, One Riddle of my Life: 38 years in 28 years, DustBunnies, Innies & Outies, Onezy-Twozys, Notation:, Paris,France. July 1, 2001, & Bern, Switzerland, Bern; SwitzerlandJuly 4, 2001., Gstaad; Switzerland, Roma, Italy, Santorini, Greece, Mykonos, Greece, Venice, Italy, Munich, Germany, Berlin, Germany, Amsterdam,...

http://www.playback.net/stacypoulos/

Where I've been and where I want to go....

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-08-28T08:37:52Z

Where I've been and where I want to go....

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

In the works... posted by email.

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-08-28T01:27:00Z

Category: Author

This website has not been announced yet and dozens of entries area waiting to be published. A few things are being worked out so keep your pants on, we'll be back.

In the mean time here is a photo of me in front of my bike. If you want to know how you too can update your own blog via email call me. Have your people talk to my people. I am the owner of www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com

Live a little everyday. --PostcardTraverlers.com
Stacy poulos

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Welcome to Postcard Travlers Podcast

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-08-24T07:21:58Z

When I was a young girl I dreamed of being a photographer & filmmaker. If you want to imagine me growing up, watch the 1996 movie "Harriet The Spy" but with my own interests. I started taking photos when I was seven years old. My dad own "Entertainment East Magazine" (right) a dining and night life guide. I would look over his shoulder as he pieced the Magazine together from, developing film to layouts, to taking photos, to selling ads. My job was 'Chief executive folder and master stapler'. I don't think my dad was interested in making a killing off the Magazine. I think it was more the social aspect of meeting and helping other people. It was a good will'd company. The printer was in the garage. I can hear the endless spin and slap of a piece of paper as it rushed through the spinning gadgets until it had a paper jam, or the inc started to thinning out and my dad would slow it down to a stop to smear on a row of ink. I can smell the odd vinegar'ish ink that filled the garage as I didn't have to go to bed as I watched him work away. (From Left to right; My older brother Steve, my dad John, my step mom Justine and Me at 12 years old standing around the printer in the garage)

His twin brother was the president of 'East Coast Stuntmens Association' but even cooler than that... a Ware Wolf ! Well, the Ware Wolf on Dark shadows.

So my interest were in capturing on film, what Harriet would have written, but I also wrote notes, mostly unrelated to my photography.

Now I'm a successful and award winning Producer & photographer and Owner of Playback.net. In my off time I love to travel. I combined all my talents of media on my road trips. As I love what I do on and off the job. With 25 short years in the business I have seen the transition and movement before it came a long. I was blogging before it became the technology it is today. My journey is a story inside and out of a life of family and a sense of adventure.

About my company...

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Guaymas, Belvedere Tiburon, CA 94920 Mexican Food Killer Margaritas, fish ceviche and View!

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-04-06T07:00:00Z

Guaymas

5 Main St

Belvedere Tiburon, CA 94920
(415) 435-6300

www.guaymasrestaurant.com

Category: Mexican

4 star rating

4/6/2009 2 photos

I am a fan of Guaymas because of the Margaritas on the rocks, the salsas, the "fish ceviche" and the VIEW! ... I would never have eaten ceviche, but now the idea of it makes me want to drive there. They marinade raw fish in lime juice, add a little onion, chopped avocado and tomatoes'. The Lime cooks the fish. That's where I wanted to bail, but it's outstanding. The Shrimp is good too, but the Fish absorbs the lime for better flavor. The view and feel of the area of Tiburon reminded me where I was conceived... Catalina Island. I have tried things before, this time I also tried the screwed chicken. It had a Smokey taste but not a lot of flavor. i.e. like it was marinated or something. But trust me the "fish ceviche" alone is worth the trip. The town is very quaint to take a walk and hang out for the day. Oops did I mention the salsas? The salsa's have a very unique taste to Guaymas. I have been during the summer and spring where the Guaymas are different but excellent! Warning there is usually always a long wait, but you can belly up to the bar and enjoy a Margarita(s) and chips. They are a little on the spendie side. 7 bucks for a Margarita 9 for the ceviche... but excellent. On this day as you can see my rout I crossed 3 bridges on my motorcycle and ended up touring the back side of the Golden Gate Bridge down Bunker Road, Fort Cronkhite, Sausalito, CA 94965. It's a great adventure. If your on a bike make sure you have plenty of gas before you go to he other side, no gas stations. One of the photos i'm in front of the Golden Gate Bridge.

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

Bunker Road, Fort Cronkhite, Sausalito, CA 94965

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Warehouse Cafe, Port Costa, CA 94569

StacyPoulos.com — 2009-04-06T07:00:00Z

Warehouse Cafe

5 Canyon Lake Dr

Port Costa, CA 94569
(510) 787-1827

http://www.yelp.com/biz/warehouse-cafe-port-costa#hrid:vA3RJNgueHu9gmK-FBPdcA/src:self
more reviews at yelp.

Local customer.

I love eccentric places, Warehouse Cafe is one of those places you can hang out and look on the walls for hours. It's not for the timid, it's a favorite hang out for bikers. During the summer they have a lot of visitors. I was told by the locals, in the day The Warehouse was a brothel. It over looks the north bay under the Carquinez Bridge. You can even pull up on a jet ski as a couple of guys I chatted with did. The best part is you can get my local beer' Punkin Ale' there. Everyone was friendly that I met. I'll be back in the summer for there famous BBQ's. PS I asked permission from the people in the photos to take there photos.

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

Bright, Bright, Sunshiny Day; Grandcanyon from to Vegas to Arazona

StacyPoulos.com — 2006-03-25T07:00:00Z

Bright, Bright, Sunshiny Day - From the book "Life In A Nutshell" By Stacy Poulos

   There is one thing for sure you do not do if you are not right with God; get in a seven seater airplane and fly over the Grand Canyon. If you do not believe in God, you might start when you hit your first air pocket. For me, I have always believed, and I said my prayers before I left. I am by far not perfect. But God knows my heart, and so do I, and that’s why I agree to do semi-dangerous things and I am fearless. A little. Well, I start out that way, anyway. There is no doubt in my mind someone is always watching over me. As religious as I am, I never go to ‘church’. For me, my church is appreciating God’s creations. The one’s with no walls.
   I had a plan in life, and it didn’t turn out quite as I envisioned. I’m close, just a few minor details are different. Like I’d thought I’d be married by now -to a man, but I’m engaged --to a woman. The love is still there, it’s just a little more annoying when you want to wear your clothes or use your makeup and it’s gone or has stains on it because your girlfriend’s worn it. But I’ll take that over falling in the toilet because your boyfriend’s left the seat up. There’s nothing like being with your best friend who you actually like to be around all the time. A lot of married couples live separate lives. Most of the time they don’t even like each other. So when people think I’m crazy, I think that’s crazy.
   I went to Las Vegas with my girlfriend, her mom, and her best friend, Rosemary. Every corner you turn in Vegas someone is selling tours to the Grand Canyon, helicopter rides, bus rides and airplane rides. Etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah, blah. So I plead to my girlfriend to go with me on a plane ride over the Grand Canyon. She said no way. I told her “the only way you can truly appreciate the Grand Canyon is to fly over it.” We went last year to a couple of the points on the south edges of the Grand Canyon on our scooters. It was fun and amazing. But you would have to spend days going around the edge to appreciate its true grandeur. Even then you are limited to the few roads that go to the edge. If you go by plane you will be able to see from many perspectives. Not to mention it would be an unforgettable experience. We are a lot alike, but much different. I have wings and I follow my heart, it’s what she loves and hates about me. I do what I love, no matter what it costs me. I do it with care and respect for the world around me. I don’t just give into, or don’t confine my life to the opinions, or even the suggestions, of short-sited miserable people. It’s always the unhappiest people who have the greatest opinion on how life should be lived. Plsssbbbbbtt!. Is what I say. That doesn’t mean that sometimes I don’t scare the shit out of myself. It’s not uncommon that some of my decisions in life leave me hyperventilating 100 feet under water or two thousand feet in the air.
   After a discussion with someone about my trip, he said, “You have to sky dive!” I said, “I see no reason to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.” I don’t seek thrills in purposely defying death or in jerking my body around. I am there to observe and take photos. Not risk my life to feel my stomach drop or end up in my throat.
   So anyway, I told my girlfriend, “If I’m going to die, I want to die together. I think I would be OK and have a moment of peace being by her side before I went to that new dimension.” She wasn’t going for it. The next day I was determined to go. I asked her mom, she said she had a weak heart, and wanted to go on the Hoover Dam/Grand Canyon tour on a bus instead. As I thought about it, a bus would be more appropriate for her. I have no desire to be stuck on a bus tour to go see a “dam”, and I’ve already been to the edge (in more ways then one). Eventually the most unlikely volunteer stood up. It was this fragile woman with, no shit, fifteen pill bottles of --I don’t know what? It sounds like you’re next to a rattle snake in the morning while she’s lining up her pills and gearing up to face the day. She damn near fainted taking all her pills our first morning in Vegas.
   Hmmm. Cricketity old Rosemary with all her aches and pains... so many pains, --the thought of standing in line to get on a airplane motivated her to pull out her handicap sticker and request a wheel chair to get on and off the airplane when we came to Vegas. “I’m livin’ my life, me-haw, you never know when your gonna die,” she says. Alrighty then, you’re a perfect candidate. I felt bad leaving behind my girlfriend, but I’m not going to stop pressing forward, because I never know when I’m gonna die. But I did fill out my last will and testament on a napkin before I left in case something happened. I left my girlfriend everything I have, to distribute as I wished. Her mom asked if she could have my leather jacket if something happened. “It would be my honor,” I said. My girlfriend already knows what I want done, if A.D.D. could remember. She is the only person in my life I wouldn’t mind leaving everything to because she unconditionally loves me. If I could just get her shock treatment for a few minor details, she’d be perfect. Most importantly, I wanted to make sure my writing and photography would be published, and that Oprah carrys out my works on Dyslexia.tv. She’s the only one I would trust with the integrity of my work.
   So I made the call to Rickety Airline Company. They were the most reasonable at $135 compared to most of them, $250-$300 dollars. I was kinda disappointed because it only covered a small south/west corner of the Grand Canyon, and it was only going to be up an hour and a half, including the flight to the Grand Canyon and back, including going over the Hoover Dam. The van ride was short from our hotel, we were staying at the Excalibur. The night before we went to ‘Tournament of Kings’, a dinner/entertainment event where actors dress in 1700 period clothes and portrayed ‘King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table’ where they jousted with real horses and swords. I highly recommend this unique experience. I told my girlfriend I feel like something is going to happen to me. She said why? Because I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted. I got exactly the Harley I’ve dreamed about having and I got an Airstream I’ve had on my wall for years. I have the best and most rewarding career, I’ve traveled the world and taken pictures like I said I would when I was twelve years old. And my best friend is my girlfriend and she truly cares about me like no one ever has. Annnnd, to top it off, I’ve always wanted to go to a jousting dinner show. Not only did I do that, but I got to stay in the Castle too. If something should ever happen to me, you make sure you let people know I’ve had a great life. And make sure you publish my work and make lots of money.
   So anyway, I call the “Rickety Airline Company” to book two people. It appeared they only have room for two at 12:30 p.m. They had an “unexpected maintenance this morning and only have one plane available” --I don’t even want to know. I explain, I’m a professional photographer and would like to be placed in the optimal position for taking pictures. He said ‘everyone gets a window seat and to discuss it with the pilot’. Focused on the excitement, I thought I’d keep the little “unexpected maintenance” thing to myself. No sense in worrying my fragile friend. So we get ready to go. She’s a little nervous, but excited. She decided to have a glass of wine at the hotel while we waited for the van to pick us up and asked me if I wanted one. “No thanks,” I want to remember every minute of my time. I’ve been in a lot of small planes and helicopters. A Cessna 150 is about as small as they come for small planes. Other than the fact my high school football field was longer than Catalina Island’s airstrip-- a cut off mountaintop. A Cessna 150 is a two seater elbow to elbow with the pilot. It’s so small you can wrap your arms around the body of it. The first plane I ever flew in was a Catalina water plane and we landed in the ocean. I was really little. Too little to be scared, and young enough to think landing in the water was normal. One thing I learned as a young adult flying in an airplane elbow to elbow with a pilot is --they really don’t talk to anyone when you’re up there. Going through clouds are unnerving because the pilot never says anything to anyone. Like… ‘Breaker, breaker, Cessna 150 is going through the clouds at ‘X’-altitude and ‘X’-longitude, blah, blah, blah.’ It’s a hit or miss. Small planes don’t have radar, where you can detect a metal object on the other side of a cloud. You don’t even drive in the fog on a two lane highway with a dotted line like this. They just know you’re out there somewhere above Catalina Island, maybe in the clouds? The pilot said big planes fly at high altitudes and small planes fly at low altitudes. ...They say education is important. I don’t agree when you fly in planes. When it comes to planes, ignorance is bliss. The less you know, the less you will worry, unless of course you’re the pilot. Then you need to know a lot. Not just about flying, but a lot about weather, altitude, and psychology to calm down the passengers. Maybe even know how to lie, and say, “This gauge will tell me if there are other planes coming our way when we go through clouds.”
   I mean, imagine if there were other people out there like the idiots that can’t even stay between the lines on the road? What it would be like sharing the air. Notice there are no blinkers on airplanes? Did you know no one requires a pilot to get their oil changed, a breath test, or tires checked. What corners do pilots cut? Hopefully they don’t take care of their airplanes like I have taken care of my cars. That would be very scary. This is all knowledge learned flying in air shows, small and large planes, even WWI and WWII planes. Of course, this is all information I forgot about in my excitement to fly over the Grand Canyon.
   So we arrive at the airport and I’ve already coached Rosemary to be calm, “Whatever is going to happen is going to happen and there’s nothing we can do to change it.” It’s a little hair raising but it will be worth it. We stand in line to be weighed. I told her “this is when you don’t want to lie about your weight.” They weighed us anyway, with all our stuff to balance out the plane. I told the man, “I don’t even want to know.” All the fat people have to sit in the front. I got the middle under the wing. Rosemary sat behind me. So it wasn’t where you’d like to sit, it was how you could best weigh down the little seven seat'er (including the pilot) and the odd man in the tail off the plane. They said everyone would get a window, they didn’t mention you would get a barf bag, a couple of knees and elbows too.
   The group we flew with was from England. The one that sat next to the pilot had a straw cowboy hat on with a “Guinness” beer logo on it. He seemed like a fun guy, but an ideal co-pilot? I was kinda jealous he got the front. I sat next to a quiet fellow while his wife got the very back by herself two seats behind. Rosemary sat right behind me. The pilot gave us a few instructions along with a card that showed us how to put on our incomplete seat belt. He showed us where the barf bag was and instructed us to put on the headphones. But he didn’t tell us why until the engine was on and we couldn’t hear him. Something about a switch. And it won’t work until we lift off? So we put them on and started to lift off. Eventually we figured out that switching the switch one way you got English, and the other way, was Spanish. The twist knob was the volume. While the engine was drowning out the pilot he showed us a map with numbers, when he held up the appropriate finger it would signify where we were on the map. OK, got that. So we took off, a little scary, but manageable. Eventually elevator music played in the head set with no words, like ‘You Take My Breath Away’. How appropriate. We were going pretty slow if you think in perspective of the map. We hadn’t even gotten to number one, and we already used more than half of one tank of gas... I know that sounds pessimistic, but I couldn’t help but think we didn’t have enough gas to make it. I had the unfortunate position where I can read all the controls on the dashboard. It was all coming back to me. I may not know a lot about airplanes, but I do know all about running out of gas, and in awkward locations. This would be a very awkward location. I also know a little about ratios, like we haven’t even seen the foot of a mountain and we’ve used up half of our gas. So I start to psyche myself out wondering how we were going to make it all the way there and then back. And I’m not liking the fact that the pilot is flying the plane like it’s his hoopdie, with his right hand casually resting on the dashboard away from the steering wheel. As all this is running through my head, suddenly we hit our first air pocket that threw the plane at a 30-degree tilt to the left, requiring the pilot to recover with --both hands. OK, I’m scared now. I’m not worried about the gas anymore, I’m wondering about dying. I’m wondering a lot if the old rickety airplane can handle such a jerk from the sky. And how a crack got in the dash board? I explain to Rosemary how scared I am. I let her feel my sweaty palms, in case the freaked out -deer in the headlights look-- didn’t tell the story. Then the plane went into a 500-foot drop (i.e. about 50 stories). Like a vacuum tried to suck us out of the sky. The eyewitness to the dashboard, “Mr. Guinness Beer,” claimed we dropped 500 feet. Now he’s from England and they are on the metric system, even if it was 500 kilometers that would be about 300 feet (i.e. 30 stories). One story is a lot! What ever it was, I was so freaked out I didn’t want anyone to move. I kept telling Rosemary to back away from the door. Her elbow was right next to the latch handle. The kind that you can easily catch your coat on in a fit of excitement and accidentally open. Like when our butts lifted off the seats when the plain dropped 500 feet. Like in the Road Runner cartoons when Wile E. Coyote would sit suspended for three seconds in mid air before he’d drop like a rock and splat --on the bottom of the Canyon floor. The Grand Canyon looks a lot like the backdrop for the cartoon. And I’m feeling a lot like Wile E. Coyote right now in an ACME airplane with Goofy in the passenger seat and MC Hammer at the wheel.
   As we reached different points of the map, a pre-recorded voice would come on and explain the historic site. At one point, I looked at Rosemary like I was her mother in an ‘I’m not kidding look-- get away from the door and nobody gets hurt!’ She graciously appeased me, even started massaging my shoulders to help calm me down before I passed out from stress. I wasn’t messing around. That last drop really spooked me. Something I never experienced before. The worst turbulence I ever felt while flying was in a storm over to The Cayman Islands. I thought for sure we were going to get hit by lightening. Apparently big airplanes have lighting rods to ground out a hit, before it electrocutes the passengers.
   The pilot cranks his head around to get our attention and asks us to tighten our seat belts more. I’m thinking, “What can be worse than what we just experienced?” We were getting closer to the Grand Canyon. I thought, “I can see it from here, now let’s go back.” The pilot, at that time, was about up to number four with his fingers. I kept thinking I didn’t want him to take both hands off the steering wheel to show us number six. I got it; I’ll know the Grand Canyon when I see it. I want my mommy. In the back some commotion was going on to get our attention. One of the English in the very back couldn’t hear anything in her headset, (at least that’s what I got out of the charades) so she tapped on her friend’s shoulder to get her husband’s attention. So they were communicating in charades how to get the headset to work, twisting his fingers to the left and right. She still wasn’t getting anything, so he taps on the pilot’s shoulder and is explaining, again in charades, to the pilot about the headset problem.
   Now the pilot’s head is facing the rear of the plane (after he just told us to tighten our seat belts), trying to play the charades game. Twisty, twisty with his fingers, jiggle with his other hand, as apposed to having both hands on the wheel to fly the plane. I’m thinking to myself, in face language to them, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding!!!” I looked at the wife and husband like they were insane. “That’s too fucking bad,” leave the pilot alone or we’re all going to crash and no one will hear the headset because it will be smashed into the mountainside --right along with the people!’ People think I’m crazy. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to get in the plane in the first place, but don’t push your luck by putting the attention of the pilot in the back of the plane when we’ve dropped 500 feet or kilometers twice. The pilot smiles at me when I gave him my, don’t-worry-about-the-damn-headset-distressed-look, which was worth a thousand words. I keep thinking, I wish I had that glass of wine AND pills. I didn’t care, and I just needed to calm down. Fragile Rosemary was rubbing my shoulders trying to help calm me down. Where are those fifteen bottles of pills right now? That will help calm me down.
   Even though I was in sheer terror at times, I had moments of peace. I tried to call my brother to tell him I was at church; apparently you don’t get good reception out here where no man dares to tread. I got teary eyed twice, once in awe of God’s glorious creation, unimaginable beauty, and sheer size, and the other was for my girlfriend who I love and wish was here to calm me down and share this moment. I took some photos with the tire in the frame to help people get a perspective of depth. It was a perfect day for photos, not so perfect for taking them in a small plane. There were times I kept looking around for a patch where he could land and drop me off. And there were times I was glad I didn’t take the longer trip covering the whole Grand Canyon. Sheer beauty. I’d have paid double just to get off the plane. But there I was, having to take as long as it took to get there, to get back. I told Rosemary, who by the way was taking it like a trooper and having a great time, that not even Oprah would do this with all her millions. There’s no getting around turbulence. A plane is much safer than a helicopter. If a helicopter breaks down it will just drop. At least an airplane will glide before it crashes into the mountainside. Rosemary said, “You have to do this, you’re a photographer.” I said, “I know, I know.” Although, family portraits are looking very inviting right now. In fact, so is bar-tending.
   As we circled the Grand Canyon I vowed not to look at the dashboard. One tank was bone dry and the other needle was bouncing between a one-quarter and one-half of a tank. I had plenty of time to observe the cracks in the dashboard, the worn tires, and metal holding up the wings. I’m surprised I didn’t faint. It’s amazing how holy and pure clouds look until you’re in a small airplane and it creates a turbulence that will rattle your most bottom nerve.
   The second half of the trip they started playing songs with words. Even though I am discouraged to sing Karaoke, even in a bar full of drunks, I decided I was going to sing at the top of my lungs to help calm myself and enjoy the rest of the ride. I really didn’t care what anyone thought, or how bad I sounded. There were no drugs or alcohol to help me otherwise. ‘Elvis’ songs came on, then ‘Sweet Home Alabama’, and ‘I Can See Clearly Now The Rain Is Gone’. ...I can see all obstacles in my way. Rosemary joined in the singing and was doing ‘the wave’ leaning away from the door, of course.
   When we landed, the Englishman next to me said, in a calm voice, “I don’t think I will be doing that again any time soon.” The pilot enjoyed telling us that the morning group had to fly back because they all threw up. I told him, “If I knew all I had to do was throw up to go back, I would have done that a long time ago.” Then I went on to tell Rosemary “I was in my own terror because I knew they had an unexpected maintenance this morning and after being in the air that’s all I could wonder about.”

By Stacy Poulos 3/06 v5 Bright, Bright, Sunshiny Day

   There is one thing for sure you do not do if you are not right with God; get in a seven seater airplane and fly over the Grand Canyon. If you do not believe in God, you might start when you hit your first air pocket. For me, I have always believed, and I said my prayers before I left. I am by far not perfect.But God knows my heart, and so do I, and that’s why I agree to do semi-dangerous things and I am fearless. A little. Well, I start out that way, anyway. There is no doubt in my mind someone is always watching over me. As religious as I am, I never go to ‘church’. For me,my church is appreciating God’s creations. The one’s with no walls.
   I had a plan in life, and it didn’t turn out quite as I envisioned.I’m close, just a few minor details are different. Like I’d thought I’d be married by now -to a man, but I’m engaged --to a woman. The love is still there, it’s just a little more annoying when you want to wear your clothes or use your makeup and it’s gone or has stains on it because your girlfriend’s worn it. But I’ll take that over falling in the toilet because your boyfriend’s left the seat up. There’s nothing like being with your best friend who you actually like to be around all the time. A lot of married couples live separate lives. Most of the time they don’t even like each other. So when people think I’m crazy, I think that’s crazy.
   I went to Las Vegas with my girlfriend,her mom, and her best friend, Rosemary. Every corner you turn in Vegas someone is selling tours to the Grand Canyon, helicopter rides, bus rides and airplane rides. Etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah, blah. So I plead to my girlfriend to go with me on a plane ride over the Grand Canyon. She said no way. I told her “the only way you can truly appreciate the Grand Canyon is to fly over it.” We went last year to a couple of the points on the south edges of the Grand Canyon on our scooters. It was fun and amazing. But you would have to spend days going around the edge to appreciate its true grandeur. Even then you are limited to the few roads that go to the edge. If you go by plane you will be able to see from many perspectives. Not to mention it would be an unforgettable experience. We are a lot alike, but much different.I have wings and I follow my heart, it’s what she loves and hates about me. I do what I love, no matter what it costs me. I do it with care and respect for the world around me. I don’t just give into, or don’t confine my life to the opinions, or even the suggestions, of short-sited miserable people. It’s always the unhappiest people who have the greatest opinion on how life should be lived. Plsssbbbbbtt!.Is what I say. That doesn’t mean that sometimes I don’t scare the shit out of myself. It’s not uncommon that some of my decisions in life leave me hyperventilating 100 feet under water or two thousand feet in the air.
   After a discussion with someone about my trip, he said, “You have to sky dive!” I said, “I see no reason to jump out of a perfectly good airplane.” I don’t seek thrills in purposely defying death or in jerking my body around. I am there to observe and take photos. Not risk my life to feel my stomach drop or end up in my throat.
   So anyway, I told my girlfriend, “If I’m going to die,I want to die together. I think I would be OK and have a moment of peace being by her side before I went to that new dimension.” She wasn’t going for it. The next day I was determined to go. I asked her mom, she said she had a weak heart, and wanted to go on the Hoover Dam/Grand Canyon tour on a bus instead. As I thought about it, a bus would be more appropriate for her. I have no desire to be stuck on a bus tour to go see a “dam”, and I’ve already been to the edge (in more ways then one). Eventually the most unlikely volunteer stood up. It was this fragile woman with, no shit, fifteen pill bottles of --I don’t know what? It sounds like you’re next to a rattle snake in the morning while she’s lining up her pills and gearing up to face the day. She damn near fainted taking all her pills our first morning in Vegas.
   Hmmm. Cricketity old Rosemary with all her aches and pains... so many pains, --the thought of standing in line to get on a airplane motivated her to pull out her handicap sticker and request a wheel chair to get on and off the airplane when we came to Vegas. “I’m livin’ my life,me-haw, you never know when your gonna die,” she says. Alrighty then,you’re a perfect candidate. I felt bad leaving behind my girlfriend,but I’m not going to stop pressing forward, because I never know when I’m gonna die. But I did fill out my last will and testament on a napkin before I left in case something happened. I left my girlfriend everything I have, to distribute as I wished. Her mom asked if she could have my leather jacket if something happened. “It would be my honor,” I said. My girlfriend already knows what I want done, if A.D.D.could remember. She is the only person in my life I wouldn’t mind leaving everything to because she unconditionally loves me. If I could just get her shock treatment for a few minor details, she’d be perfect.Most importantly, I wanted to make sure my writing and photography would be published, and that Oprah carry out my works on<http://dyslexia.tv/>Dyslexia.tv and<http://freethinkersuniversity.org/>FreeThinkersUniversity.org.She’s the only one I would trust with the integrity of my work.
   So I made the call to Rickety Airline Company. They were the most reasonable at $135 compared to most of them, $250-$300 dollars. I was kinda disappointed because it only covered a small south/west corner of the Grand Canyon, and it was only going to be up an hour and a half,including the flight to the Grand Canyon and back, including going over the Hoover Dam. The van ride was short from our hotel, we were staying at the Excalibur. The night before we went to ‘Tournament of Kings’ ,a dinner/entertainment event where actors dress in 1700 period clothes and portrayed ‘King Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table’ where they jousted with real horses and swords. I highly recommend this unique experience. I told my girlfriend I feel like something is going to happen to me. She said why? Because I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted. I got exactly the Harley I’ve dreamed about having and I got an Airstream I’ve had on my wall for years. I have the best and most rewarding career, I’ve traveled the world and taken pictures like I said I would when I was twelve years old. And my best friend is my girlfriend and she truly cares about me like no one ever has. Annnnd,to top it off, I’ve always wanted to go to a jousting dinner show. Not only did I do that, but I got to stay in the Castle too. If something should ever happen to me, you make sure you let people know I’ve had a great life. And make sure you publish my work and make lots of money.
   So anyway, I call the “Rickety Airline Company” to book two people. It appeared they only have room for two at 12:30 p.m. They had an“unexpected maintenance this morning and only have one plane available”--I don’t even want to know. I explain, I’m a professional photographer and would like to be placed in the optimal position for taking pictures. He said ‘everyone gets a window seat and to discuss it with the pilot’. Focused on the excitement, I thought I’d keep the little“unexpected maintenance” thing to myself. No sense in worrying my fragile friend. So we get ready to go. She’s a little nervous, but excited. She decided to have a glass of wine at the hotel while we waited for the van to pick us up and asked me if I wanted one. “No thanks,” I want to remember every minute of my time. I’ve been in a lot of small planes and helicopters. A Cessna 150 is about as small as they come for small planes. Other than the fact my high school football field was longer than Catalina Island’s airstrip-- a cut off mountaintop. A Cessna 150 is a two seater elbow to elbow with the pilot. It’s so small you can wrap your arms around the body of it. The first plane I ever flew in was a Catalina water plane and we landed in the ocean. I was really little. Too little to be scared, and young enough to think landing in the water was normal. One thing I learned as a young adult flying in an airplane elbow to elbow with a pilot is--they really don’t talk to anyone when you’re up there. Going through clouds are unnerving because the pilot never says anything to anyone.Like… ‘Breaker, breaker, Cessna 150 is going through the clouds at‘X’-altitude and ‘X’-longitude, blah, blah, blah.’ It’s a hit or miss.Small planes don’t have radar, where you can detect a metal object on the other side of a cloud. You don’t even drive in the fog on a two lane highway with a dotted line like this. They just know you’re out there somewhere above Catalina Island, maybe in the clouds? The pilot said big planes fly at high altitudes and small planes fly at low altitudes. ...They say education is important. I don’t agree when you fly in planes. When it comes to planes, ignorance is bliss. The less you know, the less you will worry, unless of course you’re the pilot.Then you need to know a lot. Not just about flying, but a lot about weather, altitude, and psychology to calm down the passengers. Maybe even know how to lie, and say, “This gauge will tell me if there are other planes coming our way when we go through clouds.”
   I mean, imagine if there were other people out there like the idiots that can’t even stay between the lines on the road? What it would be like sharing the air. Notice there are no blinkers on airplanes? Did you know no one requires a pilot to get their oil changed, a breath test,or tires checked. What corners do pilots cut? Hopefully they don’t take care of their airplanes like I have taken care of my cars. That would be very scary. This is all knowledge learned flying in air shows, small and large planes, even WWI and WWII planes. Of course, this is all information I forgot about in my excitement to fly over the Grand Canyon.
   So we arrive at the airport and I’ve already coached Rosemary to be calm, “Whatever is going to happen is going to happen and there’s nothing we can do to change it.” It’s a little hair raising but it will be worth it. We stand in line to be weighed. I told her“this is when you don’t want to lie about your weight.” They weighed us any way, with all our stuff to balance out the plane. I told the man, “I don’t even want to know.” All the fat people have to sit in the front.I got the middle under the wing. Rosemary sat behind me. So it wasn’t where you’d like to sit, it was how you could best weigh down the little seven seater (including the pilot) and the odd man in the tail off the plane. They said everyone would get a window, they didn’t mention you would get a barf bag, a couple of knees and elbows too.
   The group we flew with was from England. The one that sat next to the pilot had a straw cowboy hat on with a “Guinness” beer logo on it. He seemed like a fun guy, but an ideal co-pilot? I was kinda jealous he got the front. I sat next to a quiet fellow while his wife got the very back by herself two seats behind. Rosemary sat right behind me. The pilot gave us a few instructions along with a card that showed us how to put on our incomplete seat belt. He showed us where the barf bag was and instructed us to put on the headphones. But he didn’t tell us why until the engine was on and we couldn’t hear him. Something about a switch. And it won’t work until we lift off? So we put them on and started to lift off. Eventually we figured out that switching the switch one way you got English, and the other way, was Spanish. The twist knob was the volume. While the engine was drowning out the pilot he showed us a map with numbers, when he held up the appropriate finger it would signify where we were on the map. OK, got that. So we took off, a little scary, but manageable. Eventually elevator music played in the head set with no words, like ‘You Take My Breath Away’. How appropriate. We were going pretty slow if you think in perspective of the map. We hadn’t even gotten to number one, and we already used more than half of one tank of gas... I know that sounds pessimistic, but I couldn’t help but think we didn’t have enough gas to make it. I had the unfortunate position where I can read all the controls on the dashboard. It was all coming back to me. I may not know a lot about airplanes, but I do know all about running out of gas, and in awkward locations. This would be a very awkward location. I also know a little about ratios, like we haven’t even seen the foot of a mountain and we’ve used up half of our gas. So I start to psyche myself out wondering how we were going to make it all the way there and then back.And I’m not liking the fact that the pilot is flying the plane like it’s his hoopdie, with his right hand casually resting on the dash board away from the steering wheel. As all this is running through my head,suddenly we hit our first air pocket that threw the plane at a30-degree tilt to the left, requiring the pilot to recover with --both hands. OK, I’m scared now. I’m not worried about the gas anymore, I’m wondering about dying. I’m wondering a lot if the old rickety airplane can handle such a jerk from the sky. And how a crack got in the dashboard? I explain to Rosemary how scared I am. I let her feel my sweaty palms, in case the freaked out -deer in the headlights look-- didn’t tell the story. Then the plane went into a 500-foot drop (i.e. about 50stories). Like a vacuum tried to suck us out of the sky. The eye witness to the dashboard, “Mr. Guinness Beer,” claimed we dropped 500 feet. Now he’s from England and they are on the metric system, even if it was 500kilometers that would be about 300 feet (i.e. 30 stories). One story is a lot! What ever it was, I was so freaked out I didn’t want anyone to move. I kept telling Rosemary to back away from the door. Her elbow was right next to the latch handle. The kind that you can easily catch your coat on in a fit of excitement and accidentally open. Like when our butts lifted off the seats when the plain dropped 500 feet. Like in the Road Runner cartoons when Wile E. Coyote would sit suspended for three seconds in mid air before he’d drop like a rock and splat --on the bottom of the Canyon floor. The Grand Canyon looks a lot like the backdrop for the cartoon. And I’m feeling a lot like Wile E. Coyote right now in an ACME airplane with Goofy in the passenger seat and MCHammer at the wheel.
   As we reached different points of the map, a pre-recorded voice would come on and explain the historic site.At one point, I looked at Rosemary like I was her mother in an ‘I’m not kidding look-- get away from the door and nobody gets hurt!’ She graciously appeased me, even started massaging my shoulders to help calm me down before I passed out from stress. I wasn’t messing around.That last drop really spooked me. Something I never experienced before.The worst turbulence I ever felt while flying was in a storm over to The Cayman Islands. I thought for sure we were going to get hit by lightening. Apparently big airplanes have lighting rods to ground out a hit, before it electrocutes the passengers.
   The pilot cranks his head around to get our attention and asks us to tighten our seat belts more. I’m thinking, “What can be worse than what we just experienced?” We were getting closer to the Grand Canyon. I thought, “I can see it from here, now let’s go back.” The pilot, at that time, was about up to number four with his fingers. I kept thinking I didn’t want him to take both hands off the steering wheel to show us number six. I got it; I’ll know the Grand Canyon when I see it. I want my mommy. In the back some commotion was going on to get our attention. One of the English in the very back couldn’t hear anything in her headset, (at least that’s what I got out of the charades) so she tapped on her friend’s shoulder to get her husband’s attention. So they were communicating in charades how to get the headset to work, twisting his fingers to the left and right. She still wasn’t getting anything, so he taps on the pilot’s shoulder and is explaining, again in charades, to the pilot about the headset problem.
   Now the pilot’s head is facing the rear of the plane (after he just told us to tighten our seat belts), trying to play the charades game. Twisty, twisty with his fingers, jiggle with his other hand, as apposed to having both hands on the wheel to fly the plane. I’m thinking to myself, in face language to them, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding!!!” I looked at the wife and husband like they were insane. “That’s too fucking bad,” leave the pilot alone or we’re all going to crash and no one will hear the headset because it will be smashed into the mountainside --right along with the people!’ People think I’m crazy. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to get in the plane in the first place, but don’t push your luck by putting the attention of the pilot in the back of the plane when we’ve dropped 500 feet or kilometers twice. The pilot smiles at me when I gave him my, don’t-worry-about-the-damn-headset-distressed-look, which was worth a thousand words. I keep thinking, I wish I had that glass of wine AND pills. I didn’t care, and I just needed to calm down. Fragile Rosemary was rubbing my shoulders trying to help calm me down. Where are those fifteen bottles of pills right now? That will help calm me down.
   Even though I was in sheer terror at times, I had moments of peace. I tried to call my brother to tell him I was at church; apparently you don’t get good reception out here where no man dares to tread. I got teary eyed twice, once in awe of God’s glorious creation, unimaginable beauty, and sheer size, and the other was for my girlfriend who I love and wish was here to calm me down and share this moment. I took some photos with the tire in the frame to help people get a perspective of depth. It was a perfect day for photos, not so perfect for taking them in a small plane. There were times I kept looking around for a patch where he could land and drop me off. And there were times I was glad I didn’t take the longer trip covering the whole Grand Canyon. Sheer beauty. I’d have paid double just to get off the plane. But there I was, having to take as long as it took to get here, to get back. I told Rosemary, who by the way was taking it like a trooper and having a great time, that not even Oprah would do this with all her millions. There’s no getting around turbulence. A plane is much safer than a helicopter. If a helicopter breaks down it will just drop. At least an airplane will glide before it crashes into the mountainside. Rosemary said, “You have to do this, you’re a photographer.” I said, “I know, I know.” Although, family portraits are looking very inviting right now. In fact, so is bartending.
   As we circled the Grand Canyon I vowed not to look at the dashboard. One tank was bone dry and the other needle was bouncing between a one-quarter and one-half of a tank. I had plenty of time to observe the cracks in the dashboard, the worn tires, and metal holding up the wings. I’m surprised I didn’t faint. It’s amazing how holy and pure clouds look until you’re in a small airplane and it creates a turbulence that will rattle your most bottom nerve.
   The second half of the trip they started playing songs with words. Even though I am discouraged to sing Karaoke, even in a bar full of drunks, I decided I was going to sing at the top of my lungs to help calm myself and enjoy the rest of the ride. I really didn’t care what anyone thought,or how bad I sounded. There were no drugs or alcohol to help me otherwise. ‘Elvis’ songs came on, then ‘Sweet Home Alabama’, and ‘I Can See Clearly Now The Rain Is Gone’. ...I can see all obstacles in my way. Rosemary joined in the singing and was doing ‘the wave’ leaning away from the door, of course.
   When we landed, the Englishman next to me said, in a clam voice, “I don’t think I will be doing that again any time soon.” The pilot enjoyed telling us that the morning group had to fly back because they all threw up. I told him, “If I knew all I had to do was throw up to go back, I would have done that a longtime ago.” Then I went on to tell Rosemary “I was in my own terror because I knew they had an unexpected maintenance this morning and after being in the air that’s all I could wonder about.”

3/06 v5

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Europe 2001 Paris and going home Augest 10, 2001.

StacyPoulos.com — 2001-08-10T11:50:00Z

Paris and Home Augest 10, 2001.
Date: Fri., 10 Aug. 2001 04:50 (PDT)
From: Stacy Poulos
To: Group

I am leaving today at 5:30 p.m. to HOME.
I can’t wait. We will stick to the plan of not drinking and doing train, plain, and automobile so that we make it!
I will be going back in time as I fly 10 hours and be in Oakland sometime around 7:30 p.m. Sandy, make sure you get a hold of me.
Someone let my mom, Georgia, know I’m OK and Deana’s mom is picking us up. Peace Out
Love Stacy
P.S. I will be sending a summary of my trip soon.
P.S. of P.S. I’m back on a French ass backwards keyboard.

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Europe 2001 Brussels, Belgium hot spot Manikin Piss!

StacyPoulos.com — 2001-08-09T20:45:00Z

Brussels, Belgium

Date: Thu, 9 Aug. 2001 13:45 (PDT)
From: Stacy Poulos
Subject: Belgium, Euro 2001 Belgum 8_6_01
To: Group
   We were only here to pick up a patch for my backpack and to see some hot spots including Manikin Piss. That’s right folks, Manikin Piss, as the legend goes was some little boy that peed on a bomb, putting out a fire and saving the town of Brussels.
   So, my Nana (i.e. Grandma) had this statue of a kid peeing and I just thought it was one of those wird things she had. Anyway, in Brussels he was more famous than Oprah.
   We had a Belgium waffle, great stuff. Then went on our merry way to our final destination, Paris.
   The train ride was a challenge. We were especially warned about pick pockets in this area, so D & N went to the luggage room to watch their bags while I was left to watch the purses, conveniently located on the seats. I positioned myself so no one could sit behind me and I watched the purses. In the meantime this distract-er/decoy guy started talking to me in some foreign language asking me something trying to divert my attention in the opposite direction. I rudely said, I speak English, not wanting to deal with him because my keen instinct told me something was up. I turned my head back to the purses and a nice looking man in a pin stripped suite was walking off with Deana’s purse. I yelled at him and grasped at his coat, he dropped her bag and ran off the train. I would have kicked his ass and chased him off the train, but I was worried about the decoy guy getting my $3,000 camera, as well as our plane tickets. I looked back at my camera and Nachelle’s purse for the decoy guy but he ran off the train too thinking --this bitch is crazy. So I let him go, yelling for Deana, she strolls back thinking I’m yelling at her because she taking too long or something. In the meantime I’m hyped up and yelling at the train people for them making us move our bags in the first place. They felt bad and gave us a free cup of coffee. We made it to Belgium with everything.

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com

Europe 2001 Amsterdam, Holland; Red lights and Magic Mushrooms.

StacyPoulos.com — 2001-08-09T20:25:00Z

Amsterdam, Holland

Date: Thu, 9 Aug. 2001 13:25 (PDT)
From: Stacy Poulos
Subject: America is not free..
To: Group
   America is not free, Amsterdam is!
Freedom to be free. Whatever that may be. Love, drugs, prostitution, whatever.
   It’s much different here. You can even have a really bad hairdo and be accepted. No one would even do a double take if you were smoking a joint or had a really bad hairdo. They wouldn’t even flinch if two men were making out on the street.
   There are “Coffee Shops” all over town that you --can’t-- buy a beer but you can buy grams of pot, Magic Mushrooms, Crystal; it’s on the freaking MENU! And legal! You want to buy sex, that’s another street. The Red Light District. Window shopping like you’ve never seen before.
   BUT, in the mix of all this that has raised many questions in my head. There is this thing that is called “Free will” where you don’t have to partake in all this freedom.
   You would think that with this much freedom, the town would be out of control. Its not. The people are nice as well as the town. It’s not any cleaner than Hayward, California. Or as corrupt as it is either. You can smoke a joint of Hashish, but you can’t illegally park your car or they will lock up your tires with huge gadgets.
   Amsterdam is definitely an experience, what goes on in front of your face, is what goes on double at home. Don’t worry I have practiced my “free will” to sustain from all the wildness. ..for the most part, I especially didn’t do anything illegal.
   Vincent Van Gosh lived here and we went to the Museum where they display his art. One evening we splurged on a candle light boat tour of the canals.
   The bicycles has more right-of-way then the pedestrians and cars. In fact we all have had many close calls. Nachelle actually got hit or side swiped by one.
   From the minute I learned they had a Sex Museum here I wanted to go. But fate keep me away for days, Nachelle and Deana even went before me.
   If Deana’s grandpa is listening, he bought all us girls dinner in Italy, and I wanted to thank him. I’ll have to give him a big kiss when I get back.
   We’ll my friends, I am tired and ready to goooooooo home.

By Stacy Poulos
http://www.PostcardTravelers.com

You too can make your own blog at www.SuperGeniusWebsites.com a Product of http://www.Playback.net © 2010

© 2011 Stacy Poulos www.playback.net and http://www.TravelingPostcards.com