I thought I knew what to expect from Easy Rider, the ultimate iconic American freedom movie, but I was surprised not only by how the movie itself unfolded, but by how effected by it I was. That might sound silly coming from someone practically chained to her computer, fully entrenched in all the comforts of modern life, but there's something really appealing about the message of freedom and the pull of a seemingly simpler life–to be someone who can throw off her watch and to “…do your own thing in your own time”.

When the film was released in 1969 many people felt the same way, it became a phenomenon and ushered in a whole new generation of independent filmmaking. Directed by Dennis Hopper with an eye for the awesome American landscape, it's as beautiful as it is far out, man.

Still, these guys are real anti heroes, two dudes on the fringes of society who are rarely accepted by the rest of their fellow men; a danger that is made abundantly clear by certain dramatic events and the shocking and abrupt ending that I somehow got through my whole life without knowing about–which I'm still thankful for because it packs so much more impact when it's undiminished by spoilers.

It's funny to think about how everything has played out (click on that link if you want to see Dennis Hopper sell Ameriprise retirement programs). The young men inspired by this film forged a very different future for themselves than the one Peter Fonda's character, who is called Captain America, would ever have dreamt of; something that's joked about in a very funny way in Albert Brooks ingenius Lost in America. When Jack Nicholson's character George Hanson laments that “This used to be a helluva good country. I can't understand what's gone wrong with it”, you can't help but wonder what he'd have to say about America today.

Speaking of Nicholson: I think his portrayal of a drunk southern lawyer might just be my favorite of his career. His introduction is unexpected and his performance adds a whole new dimension to the film with his varsity sweater, football helmet, and crazy drinking noises.

Hopper too is excellent as an almost too realistically caustic outsider who is tempered by the beautiful ocean of calm that is Peter Fonda… If you don't get excited when Fonda goes skinny dipping, you may not be a woman?br/>

In high school my best friends and worked as camp counselors at the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in the summer. Best friends, adorable kids, arts and crafts, a beautiful zoo, occasional cotton candy and a little pocket money?it was perfect. Except for one thing.

There was an older, meaner counselor who worked there with us–who knows why she chose a job where she'd be surrounded by children, the only animals at the zoo she obviously hated. She'd use a terrifyingly shrill whistle every time the kids got too excited and, believe me, when Dana and I were leading a paper bag puppet making project, it was all too easy to get excited.

Finally, the two of us took the whistle when she wasn't looking and buried it in the dirt. Sadly, she came to work the next day with a shiny new one. We were convinced she had a cache of thousands of them in her lonely home?br/>
But I have some really lovely memories of our time there. One of the nicest parts of the day was when all the kids would sing along to traditional camp songs. The American classic, Don't Fence Me In, originally recorded by Cole Porter based on a poem by Montana State Highway engineer Bob Fletcher, is heavenly when it's sung by a bunch of hopeful little kids.

I was so in love with John Cougar Mellencamp when I was a little kid; I wore a wife beater around the house imitating his music video dance and swagger, combing my hair and convincing myself that we were soul mates. My dream was to grow up and marry him, dye my hair purple, and watch all the horror movies my mom wouldn't let me see. I lost out in one respect to a super model but, you know, while I respect his choice to drop the Cougar, I just can't see him as the man I fell in love with–so we'll just call it even.

While I also can't say that his face and voice evokes the same kind of inexplicable excitement in me today as they did when I was in pre-school, there's still a part of deep inside that smiles when a song of his comes on the radio. I believe it was a guest appearance on SCTV that sparked my love for him and I can't help but remember that too.

Lately his profile is a bit lower than his Scarecrow hey day, but he's outspoken about being a lefty (he even asked McCain to stop using Pink Houses in his campaign rallies, much like Springsteen took on Reagan RE: Both in the USA).

A great American coif, farm fed muscles, and a bleeding heart: He just hurts so good.

Honestly who of my generation didn't grow up relating to Molly Ringwald? She was a teen heroine we could relate to. She was awkward and imperfect but smart and funny. I don't know if girls today really relate to the shallow porniness of a Paris Hilton or the ragged party hardiness Lindsay Lohan or even the kinder, gentler sluttiness of Miley Cyrus (oh, and I am not talking about the Annie Leibowitz photograph, but rather the tart teen pop star image she walks around as every day that no one seems phased by.)

It's hard to say if a pale, realistic teen like Ringwald would find a place in today's environment, and if not – is it executive decisions or have teen girls just changed? Who knows. Perhaps these are bigger questions than my style icon of the week entry deserves.

Let's just remember the fabulousness of Molly Ringwald, Sam Baker, Claire Standish, Andie Walsh?The girl who made her own prom dress, who gave a nerd her panties, who could put her lipstick on without using her hands, the girl that always got the kind of kiss we as red blooded American teens and pre teens always wished and hoped would be in our future.

“Make a wish” “It already came true”. Sigh.

You know those places, the seasonal retro ice cream stands that give short pants, pony tailed teenage girls their pocket money for the summer, scattered throughout this great country on the side of the road. If you're like me you also have a favorite one, one you visit as a tradition every summer. Our is in Lake George, and as I write this I am preparing for our annual visit to Martha's Dandee Creme and Motel.

We have been making this vintage homage to soft serve and marshmallow toppings our last stop before heading back into the city for several years now. True, it has been bought more recently by the Six Flags conglomerate across the street, but it retains most of it's charm and quality. Plus it's still got it's huge rooster sign out front, in the great tradition of large, eye catching roadside sign-age.

We tend to share mint chocolate chip sundaes or thick milk shakes and are often entertained my little kids eating cones larger than their heads.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Never has that phrase been more apt than these last several years spent living in New York without outdoor space and hence, no back yard barbecues. In Austin, where we lived for a couple years after college, we'd make burgers and hot dogs all the time on our big shiny gas grill that had a special spot just for baked beans on the left side. Unless you're lucky enough to have a friend with a yard, it's mid summertime when it really hits home that you're missing out on the great American past time of cooking meat over flames.

On a recent weekend trip upstate, my friends and I took full advantage of the great outdoors and the charcoal grill and ate like kings. Beer, chips, salsa, guacamole, honey goat cheese, smoked mozzarella and aged gouda from Stew Leonard's; on the grill: corn on the cob, vegetable kebobs, hot dogs and burgers. The hot dogs were insane. One of the best things I have eaten all year–it's so easy to forget the difference cooking over charcoal flames can make. I'll be thinking about those hot dogs until I'm able to have another which, sadly, might not be for quite a while.

In addition to the traditional BBQ goodies we ate this year, Mike wowed us all with his brand new Dutch Oven (master camp cooker C.W. 'Butch' Welch, better known as CeeDub, refers to it as his “ten inch doo”): a cast iron pot that goes directly onto the coals, much like cowboys used to cook with on the open range. With a few dry and wet ingredients, he made a superb blueberry cobbler which we topped with Grand Union brand “Chocolately Chippy” ice cream. Any fan of outdoor cooking would be wise to get a Dutch Oven for his or her next cook or camp out.

While in Pennsylvania, Mike and Shaun stumbled across a fantastic amalgamation of the United State's love of hunting and over the top commerce at Cabela's. You might know it as the weird outdoors and hunting catalog belonging to your friend's oddly manly fathers. Growing up I use to thumb through it only for the various jerky they once sold (the last time I picked one up off a coffee table, I found no jerky, only jerky making technology to my dissappointment).

But the catalog has nothing on the real life shopping experience. Shaun's photos filled me with envy and I have to get myself to one, even though, as Mike and Shaun experienced, I might just be the odd man out in a huge warehouse filled with camouflage, non ironic facial hair, the love of guns, and the fear of God.

The huge shop houses a cafe, an aquarium, cuckoo clocks, antler furniture, a gun library, and a fly shop. But the real specialness comes from the most obvious feature. Within the walls stands a huge, man made mountain covered in rams and elk and more. But don't think this is the only stunning, taxidermy tableau. It looks like Cai Guo Qiang meets the Museum of Natural History, meets Patagonia in there. In one corner a wolf makes a stand against oxen, in another zebras and hippos drink from a stream. It's crazy.

Having been a huge fan of the radio show for years, I was excited to hear Showtime was going to air a television version of This American Life. I was all ready to be wowed and have to admit, I wasn't initially. It was disappointing to see that they decided to make the show a half hour as opposed to the hour long radio format, and often some of the stories featured suffer and feel less important because of it.

Still, the show got better each time I watched and a few so far have been extraordinary. Luckily the show was renewed for a second season (and hopefully a third) by Showtime, a move I was a bit surprised by because of the initial lack of advertising and support from the network. Of course, now we can see Ira Glass in every subway station, but nary a mention of the show could be found when it first aired.

This is one of the shows that has put Showtime, a once mocked and disreputable pay channel back on the map of cultural significance and has even made it a more favorable channel than the once powerful HBO. With programming choices like passing on Mad Men and originally passing the Sex and the City movie; then green lighting shows like John from Cincinnati and the dreadful Tell Me You Love Me, they totally deserve to have their butts handed to them and I love that a thoughtful and intelligent documentary program with public radio roots is doing it.

The stories, like the radio show cover the American experience. Their often insightful, funny, sad and thought provoking.

Just the words “buttermilk”, “jalapeno” and “cornbread” made my mouth water. Lucky for me, this recipe lived up to my expectations.

Cornbread is a food truly native to America. Almost every region has their own version. This one is most Texan in feeling with the inclusion of peppers and cheddar.