Monday, November 27, 2006

Where do you want to go?!?

So how was everyone's four day weekend? For me, obviously, it's a misnomer, as I just put the finishing touches on the eighth week of my ongoing weekend. It reminds me of one of my all time favorite song lyrics, from the classic "Gimme the Finger" by Black Sheep: "And everyday is Saturday my friend. Go to sleep, wake up, yo! It's Saturday again!" That's my life right now. So go ahead...gimme the finger.

Anyways, last time we spoke I think I was just checking in on Thanksgiving morning. That afternoon, I walked up to the big park on top of the "mountain" (snicker) from where you can see the whole city. First, the negatives (and this is the last time I'll mention it): this is one smoggy city. Holy man. It's like L.A., in that it's a big, bustling, industrialized metropolis and it never rains. It's the trade-off to having sunny days with temperatures in the lower-mid 70s at the end of November. But you don't really notice it until you're up above the city, looking down across it, and it's almost difficult to see the Mediterranean.

Anyways, it was very pleasant up there, and I sat in the sun and studied Spanish for awhile. I had pasta for Thanksgiving dinner, with a bunch of these delicious mushrooms they pick in the forests around the city, and a green salad. The only traditional American thing I did was watch some of the football games on my computer. It's funny; I was explaining to Oisin why there were football games on, how it was a tradition in the States to have a couple games on Thanksgiving to watch after the meal or whatever, and he found it very odd that we'd have sporting events on tv on the second most important holiday of the year. Then I had to explain that there were always basketball games and college football on Christmas, too.

Friday: I decided I needed to ramp up my walking. To go on a really long walk. Double digit miles. So I picked out a nice circuitous loop down to the water, farther west than I usually go, and along the original Roman road that cuts through the middle of the city. The thing is, usually I assiduously avoid going out in public on the day after Thanksgiving, for fear of accidentally stepping between the last Tickle Me-Cabbage Patch-Playstation-whatsamajigger and a ravenous hoard of soccer moms and getting trampled to death. But this year, I was able to stroll throughout the city, into the main shopping district even, with nary a problem. No more people on the streets than usual. Add to that the beautiful weather, and it was a pretty cool day.

The "weekend" (snicker) was chill; Saturday I didn't really do much, and then on Sunday I ended up at Parc Guell again. Not on purpose, really; it's a big park, and I set out just for a walk but ended up at the edge of the park, in a completely different part. I was at a vantage point from which you could see in all directions, and I figured out a couple more long walks I'm going to check out in the coming weeks. The one I'm really excited about is to the top of this other hill, way off in the distance, with some kind of church-type thing perched up there. I say "church-type thing" because it's impossible to tell whether something is a church from a distance. All the old buildings look like churches. Many of the old hospitals have spires, for instance. So it could very well be a grocery store for all I know. I will file a detailed report once I've completed the hike.

Today was funny; a good day overall, and lots of adventure. Oisin recommended I check for the odd groceries I want at this huge American-style grocery store called "Corte Ingles"; specifically he said I could most likely find Tahini there, which I need to make hummus. So I walk over to the store, and it's a six story department store with an enormous grocery store in the bottom. Now, let me tell you something about me right here: I love grocery stores. I love to walk through each aisle and figure out where stuff is, make sure I do an inventory so I know what my options are...just get acquainted with them. Especially when I move into a new place. It helps me get oriented in my new surroundings to know where I can what. So you can imagine my reaction when I entered this enormous grocery store that held the promise of all the things I had been missing from home. And it did not disappoint.

They didn't have tahini (try explaining that in a foreign language: "uhh...it's a...cream...made from sesame seeds...toasted...), but they did have toasted sesame seeds so we're in business there. In addition, they had refried AND black beans (neither of which I've seen anywhere else in the city), tofu, and they had gluten-free products, too. So that's exciting. C'mon, admit it, it's exciting! No? Just me? Fine then.

Anyway, I buy my stuff, and I'm getting ready to leave, when I realize I have no idea how to get back out. When I first got there, you see, I went all the way to the top floor of the department store trying to find the grocery before I figured out it was in the basement (shut up), so once I finally found the grocery there was no way to retrace my steps back to the outside world. The first exit I encountered was very clearly an emergency exit; the little guy running for the door was on fire. Just kidding. But it was very clearly marked, regardless. So I moved on...and the next exit I found had no such markings on it. There were two doors propped open leading out, and then another door with little speedy dude on it. I swear to god, nowhere on this door did it say anything resembling "emergencia" or anything remotely like it. I know this because I checked very carefully, fearful of setting off an alarm. So what do you think happened when I pushed the door open, hmmmm?

(Wait for it...waaaait for it....)

Yeah, you're right. Alarm central. Sucks! So this woman comes running out, and she's babbling like a cartoon character in this high-pitched voice. I'm sure it was along the lines of "what is wrong with you, you silly man! Can't you tell that this completely unmarked door is a fire escape?" I stare at her blankly, quietly panicking on the inside. I may have even peed a little. Anyways, suddenly she stops, and is just looking at me. Expectantly. Like she just asked me something. I maintain the blank stare, as I have absolutely no idea what "BIH BIH BIH BIH BIH!!!!" means, in any language. (I swear to god, she sounded like Beaker, Dr. Bunson Honeydew's lab assistant on The Muppet Show.) Finally she says, impatiently, "adonde vas?!?"

ADONDE VAS!!! Of course! "To where do you want to go!" I totally understood that!!! Suddenly I'm very excited. We're communicating, she and I! I try to give her a hug, but she's in no mood to fraternize. So now, picture it: Jerod, still panicky, nervous, excited...

So I try to say, "outside." Fuera. That's an easy one. But the thing you have to remember is that I have absolutely no confidence in my language abilities. What almost invariably happens is I'll be in a position where I want to say something, but when the time comes my brain will get a bad cases of the dars. As in "daaaaar...." And then when I walk away I will inevitably throw together a sentence in my head that is exactly what I should have said. See, I'm definitely getting better; but without the confidence ("me falta seguridad" is how you describe it) it's worthless in real-world situations. Okay, back to the story... you're still with me, right? Fire alarm, "Adonde vas," etc.?

So I say "fuerte." Which means "strong." You know, like a fort? Fuerte?

At this point, we're going to try a little guided meditation. Imagine you're working in a crappy American mall in some random US city, and you hear the emergency exit go off, and come running, and it's some dumb kid with a kind of wild look in his eyes, staring around blankly. And you say something to him like, "what the hell, man, what were you doing? Where are you trying to go???" And he just gapes at you. There might even be a faint scent of urine. "Great," you think. "I always get the live ones." So then you repeat yourself, nice and slowly, carefully enunciating each syllable..."where are you try ing to go." And he blurts out, "dah...stronnguh!"

So yeah. That was me today. Shut up.

On the plus side, I did get all my exciting new groceries. After I got home and put them away, I decided I had to go find a nice quiet place somewhere, to sit and read in the sun for awhile. There's another park in the same basic area as Park Guell; it's the same set-up, paths leading up the hill to the top from where you can see the whole city, but it's smaller and a lot less crowded. Perfect.

So I get to the top, and sit for awhile and read, and then I'm coming back down a different way than I went up. And there's this little dog-leg off the main path to a nice view, so I walk down to have a look...and it leads right to this 50 ft. cliff. No warning, no signs, no railing...just cliff. But it's still cool, you know? Big cliff in the middle of the park? So I walk right to the edge and look over, admiring the fall, when what do I spy right at the edge of the cliff, just sitting in the grass? It's a 5 euro bill! Sweet! Don't know if you have been following the conversion rate lately, but that's like a hundred bucks anymore. Nothing to scoff at.

Real quick in closing: here's one more reason (I believe it's the definitive one, in fact) why the grammar checker in Microsoft Word sucks. In that very first sentence of this entry, way back there at the top (go ahead, have a look. I'll wait), it says "how was everyone's." I keep the grammar check on because it will often give me a perverse pleasure to see how messed its suggestions are. But this is the most messed up I've yet encountered. I right click on the phrase and it offers, "Everyone was's." No shit. And I always imagine the grammar check is like one of those really annoying people who constantly corrects everyone when their spoken language and slang don't match officially accepted rules of written language...so in this case, it would say, "ahem. I believe you mean, 'how everyone was's four day weekend.'"

Wait, let me check this...I do still have this set to English, right? Not some screwed-up "this language follows none of the accepted rules of any written dialect" setting? Nope, still English.

So there you go.

Friday, November 24, 2006

Real nice

Okay, this is great and it's free and it helps people and trees and animals and everything else.
The Hunger Site
You just click on that big ol' button there in the middle of the page and it donates some money to organizations that provide food to underpriviledged people all over the place. For reals. That's it. You can do it every day, too.
There are six sites tabbed on that page; each one provides a different service that you can support by clicking the respective big ol' buttons in the middle of the pages.
Also, that comic strip I mentioned a few entries ago? Get Your War On? Well, dude has two books out, and all the author royalties go to a mine-sweeping team in Afghanistan.
In my opinion, this is the best thing going. Ruthless, hilarious, angry as hell, filthy, progressive, passionate...it's got it all. Great idea for Christmas gifts, no? Great idea of Christmas gifts YES. For instance, grandma would love these jazzy little numbers:








So there you go. Two good causes. Word.

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Update

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! It will probably come as a big surprise that it's not quite as important a holiday here as it is back home. I think the general consensus, if it comes up at all, is that they should have just let us all starve that first winter.

Some of you may have noticed that the frequency of blog entries here has decreased.

Okay probably not.

Regardless. I have still been writing. I have posted several things to Crazy Melvin this week. And I'm still writing horoscopes. Both are linked in the sidebar.

Oh yeah, came up with a little turn-of-phrase while writing horoscopes yesterday that I'm quite happy with: second-hand stress. See, it's like second-hand smoke, it's bad for your health even if you're just around people who are stress-monkeys! Nice, huh?

I expect my propers (if not royalties) if you find yourself using that one.

Friday, November 17, 2006

Inward turn

I have definitely been moving in some different directions recently. I made a conscious decision over the weekend to really focus on eating well and exercising more; I had been doing well, but I wanted to really kick some ass this week. Build momentum for a couple weeks, then revisit goals and clarify what I want for the last few months of my visit.

That being said, I don't have a whole lot to report. I've been walking a lot still, gone jogging a few times, and have greatly simplified my diet.

I've really been moving inward more and more lately. I've started meditating again, for the first time in awhile, and it's affected the way I look at a lot of things. When I eat now, for example, I make sure to chew my food really well and focus on what I'm consuming. As a result I've been able to eat a lot less and still feel full. Additionally, since I've resumed meditating I have had no interest in eating meat. It hasn't been a conscious decision; after eating the last piece of pork I just stopped. For the past several days I've actually gone almost completely vegan...there is probably some eggs in the pasta I've been eating but that's it. Again, I haven't made any decision; never once felt like I shouldn't eat meat, like there was something wrong with it or whatever. It just didn't appeal to me. So I've been eating a lot of rice and beans, pasta, lots of fruit and vegetables. But again, since I've been concentrating on efficient consumption, it hasn't been a problem to get all the nourishment I need.

So where am I going with this. Not sure. I'm just trusting my instincts right now. The time will come when a nice slab of pork or chicken will sound good, but for now I'm riding the wave. Anyone know where you buy tofu in Barcelona?

This inward turn is of course not helping my language acquisition project. I'm sure the two are intricately intertwined; I am intimidated to get out there and talk to people, so I compensate by becoming completely introverted. At the same time, I go through phases like this all the time: I am honestly in general a quite solitary person. And after the social hurricane that was my life this past year, culminating in the month before leaving Seattle, I think I just needed a break. Ironically, I came to the party capital of Europe to get it.

Of course, the biggest difference between living somewhere and vacationing somewhere is the money factor. If you've got a week or two somewhere and then are returning home to your job, you can afford to live it up. You can go out every night and hit all the attractions in the city. But if you're living there, especially if you're not working much like me, you notice how expensive it is to go out to the bars and restaurants and clubs.

Honestly though, I've very content with where I am right now. I am living simply, cooking my own food every meal and eating well, working on various projects I now have time to pursue, and slowly but surely learning Spanish. (More slowly than surely, but still. I'm progressing.) And I am getting to know the physical city pretty well, too. I have been adding a couple streets a week to my memory banks. That's how I think of getting to know Barcelona; how many streets could I find my way home from if I were dropped somewhere on it at random? Since I've been living in my own place, approaching four weeks now, I am up to about eight. Not counting all the little side streets in my neighborhood, of course.

What else is happening. I think I'm going to go check out some Flamenco music at the school of jazz tonight. They have a nice club where the students can perform, they have an open mike jam session once a week, but I've never checked out the Flamenco. Figure it's about time to see the traditional local music though.

I went down to the Mediterranean again yesterday. I'm drawn there at least once a week. It reminds me of home and is a nice long walk to boot. Yesterday I was sitting on the beach when the sun came through the clouds and lit everything up, water glistening and sand sparkling...and I was struck by the beauty of pigeons, that phosphorescent gleam of their neck feathers, as I watched a couple walk around on the beach. Really, what it reminds me of is the colors of oil on top of a puddle of water after the first rain in awhile. I like that metaphor, as well, because both images are ones that many people find disgusting or at least unappealing. I think this is because both remind us of our transgressions as a species, our appalling waste and disregard for the planet...people hate pigeons because they eat garbage. Well, they would eat other things, but they've adapted to living among humans and can survive well because we generate so frickin' much garbage. Imagine where we'd be without pigeons and rats and seagulls and raccoons and all the other scavengers...we'd be up to our asses in our own waste if there wasn't an entire group of animals that came along and cleaned up after us.

Sorry to get on my soapbox. Suffice to say, I think pigeons are lovely. I have a sweet, sad crow story, too, but I'll save that for another day.

Monday, November 13, 2006

What John Kerry shoulda said

I was reminded by a recent post on Crazy Melvin of this completely amazing online comic strip called Get Your War On. As you can see, it starts waaaay back when, in the days of John Ashcroft...see, this guy was outraged even before we invaded Iraq!

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Appendix to TPoCNBSGtCW

In looking over my no-b.s. guide to city walkin', I realize that it could easily be interpreted that I am saying I'm such a badass you could drop me in the middle of a strange city with a map and I'd be able to find my way to a defined destination. Actually, my intention was to say the exact opposite of that; that I'm the kind of person who can look at a map and figure out a place to walk, and then end up going in the exact opposite direction because I am confused by the layout of the map. My point isn't that I'm hyper-oriented; rather, it's that any idiot, even one with no discernable sense of direction, can make it work with the proper tools and preparation.

Additionally, I neglected to mention the fourth means of transport available in Barcelona (and the rest of Europe, as I've been told): scooters. Man, these things are everywhere. I see them as sort of a combination of the traits we attribute to bicyclists and pedestrians in the states: like bikes they'll shoot up the side of cars stopped at traffic signals or stuck in congestion, and also like bikes they have no compunction about jumping up onto the sidewalk if the streets are completely blocked. Also, you can't walk down the street without going past dozens of scooters (and honest-to-dog motorcycles to boot) parked on the edge of the sidewalk. But like pedestrians, you see literally every kind of person riding a motorbike down the street. No sooner will you catch a guy in a three-piece suit zooming by when a 16 year old hippie kid with dreadlocks will almost run you down on the sidewalk.

Finally (and this is the last one), I forgot to mention the eternal bane of city walkers the world over: the slow-moving urban groups who insist on walking three abreast on the sidewalk and are completely oblivious to the fact that they're an impassible convoy of wide-assery. Jesus god these people drive me nuts. Let me say right up front, I have no problem with old people going for walks down the street. I don't think, as Homer reads in his Ross Perot pamphlet, that they should be "isolated and studied, so it can be determined what nutrients they have that might be extracted for our personal use." I am in fact generally touched when I see a little old couple shuffling down the street arm in arm. But when there are three or more of them, standing in a group or weaving slightly in a line on the sidewalk, and I have to step out into the street or re-enact the Donald O'Conner wall-climb from the "Make'em Laugh" number in "Singin' in the Rain," well... let's just say that I get a little steamed. Same goes for stroller-pushers, bored teenagers, businessmen...okay, ESPECIALLY businessmen, because I always imagine that what is going through their smug little heads is that they're better than everyone else, they make more money, and so therefore they can take up as much of the sidewalk as they want. That's when the donkey punch comes in.

What else is going on...oh, finally got my haircut. I was approaching, ironically enough, the mullet-by-inaction...that involuntary mullet you get by not getting your hair cut in a timely fashion. Shows you what fear will get you in this world: I was so nervous of getting an accidental mullet at the barbershop that I was farming an accidental mullet anyways. In the end, I just had Oisin use his barber clippers and razored the whole damn thing. Not bald, mind you, but as short as my hair's been since...well, since whenever, I think. The top is the longest attachment on the clippers, the sides and back one shorter. I have pictures, don't worry. And I haven't forgotten about that photo-journal, either. Should be coming soon...

Friday, November 10, 2006

The Pope of Chilitown's no-b.s. guide to city walkin'

I've always loved to walk. It's my favorite form of travel. I've never been one for bikes; I tend to zone out most of the time, and things come at you too quickly when you're riding a bike. I need more time to react. Walking is the perfect speed for me; I'm able to do some of my best thinking, and don't have to worry about getting smashed by a car or having to stop so suddenly I end up skidding along the concrete. I definitely have a profound respect for bicyclists, mostly because they seem to be universally despised, by pedestrians, drivers, and, I can only assume, other bicyclists. They're in the way of impatient car drivers, and are constantly nearly clipped by side mirrors as cars speed around them on the road. Ride on the sidewalk, and pedestrians dramatically jump out of the way and give them surprised and angry glares. There's no winning, and that's what I admire about them. The attitude is one of near-sneering arrogance, a me against the world kind of view that I think takes a lot of balls to pull off.

Not being that ballsy I instead walk. It's sometimes tough, because I do some of my best "writing" while I'm walking, too. I get a good internal narration going and find myself coming up with long passages as I stroll from one place to another. The problem is that it's nearly impossible to record any of these narratives. I tried taking a tape recorder with me for awhile, but people tend to look at you funny if you walk down the street talking to yourself. I suppose I could set it up so that it looks like a cell phone, and I could be one of those guys who walk down the street constantly carrying on a conversation on his phone. So my options are: 1) crazy guy, or 2) asshole. In the end, I'd rather just hope for the best and assume I'll remember at least some semblance of what I was thinking about by the time I get to my destination and can jot down a few ideas.

Which brings me to the actual topic of this composition: what should you bring with you if you want to get to know a city by walking over as many square feet of it as possible. Personally, I'm kind of a minimalist. All I really need is a pair of comfortable shoes and a map. I will have had to prepare before leaving the house for this to work, of course; google-maps actually has a great map of Barcelona, so I check where I'm going before leaving and map out the best route to get there from home. If I've done this, and marked some important places on the physical map I'll be traveling with, really that's all I need. It is never all that I take, of course...I guess how I'll put it is, comfy shoes and a map are the two most essential items to take.

Only slightly less essential is your metro pass or enough money to buy a ticket (singles or passes available in vending machines in any station). No matter how lost you get, you're never far from a metro station. And once you get underground, you can get anywhere you want in the entire city for the cost of a single ticket. There are multiple maps of the entire metro system in every station, so as long as you know which stop is closest to your home (crucial info), you're set. The most you'll have to transfer is twice.

The next step down is, in my opinion, the first level of convenience items. Things you can definitely get by without but which will make your life a lot easier and more comfortable if you have them. Some people will tell you that a mobile phone is mandatory, and I understand the logic. Personally, being the proverbial stranger in a strange land, there's rarely anybody I have to meet or anywhere I have to get at any particular time. So a cell phone isn't on my personal list anywhere. In Seattle, sure. Here, not so much.

It's a good idea to have a timepiece of some sort, which of course the mobile doubles as. But again, for me time is even less of the essence here than back home, so I often find myself in the middle of the city before I realize I've left my clock at home. Yes, clock. I don't have a watch or anything. I have a battery-powered analog clock that I keep in the bathroom to make sure I brush my teeth for two minutes. I try to remember to bring it with me, but generally I forget.

Anyways, back to the list. The items I like to bring with me for comfort and convenience are as follows:

1) Warm clothes. A sweatshirt or jacket and a warm hat at least. You never know when you'll find yourself staying out all night.
2) Money. At least enough to grab a sandwich and a beer or glass of wine if you find a nice little café you'd like to sit in for awhile. And enough for a cab is nice, too, in case you have a huge dinner with friends and a couple drinks and it's getting late and you're feeling exceptionally sleepy and/or lazy and indulgent.
3) Reading material for that aforementioned nice little café.
4) A bottle of water. I generally prefer it to be about half full, so it's lighter. I actually don't drink that much water while I'm traveling, I invariably would rather be thirsty than have to pee for the last hour of a walk. But it's great to have if you end staying out later than you expected, or it's hotter than you imagined. Not to mention if you end up vomiting in the middle of the street and need something to wash your mouth out with.
5) Food. Maybe a sandwich, a couple carrots and an orange, some nuts...anything you can snack on if you don't want to stop at one of those nice little cafes, but would rather save your money and keep moving. Just sitting for a few minutes on a park bench, consuming some calories and having a sip of water, and you're as good as new.
6) Paper and pencil or pen. I have a little book that I bring with me, which has interesting words and phrases that I write down so I can remember them for later; ideas for writing that I jot down when I stop to sit for a minute; the phone numbers of the two people I know in Barcelona in case I get hit by a bus and someone needs to be contacted (just kidding mom, that doesn't happen. Sit down, please. And while we're here, it wasn't me who vomited in the street. It was Dustin. And it wasn't because he was drunk, he was genuinely sick).

What else...it's cool to have some of that hand-sanitation gel. That way, when you stop and sit on a park bench to have a snack before continuing your walk, you can disinfect your filthy hands before handling the food you're about to stick in your mouth. And it's cool to have a camera with you for when you invariably stumble upon something new and interesting that your friends and family back home would love to see. Of course, you almost only stumble upon these things when you've left the camera at home. Actually bringing the camera decreases the odds of seeing anything photo-worthy by roughly a third, so sometimes you're better off leaving it at home and then just describing the midget riding the elephant while juggling two chainsaws and a bumblebee in 1,000 words.

Of course, by now many of you will have noticed the one thing I haven't yet mentioned that overarches all the other items if you're a hard-core pedestrian: a reliable backpack. This is the main reason I'm a minimalist. The fewer things you have to carry on your back for a five mile walk the better. This is a well known fact to hikers and backwoods campers, of course. As well as anyone who traveled somewhere for longer than about two weeks. Packing light is essential.

So there you have it. Don't say I never gave you anything. Who's got your back? Good ol' uncle Pope of Chilitown, that's who.

In other news: I wrote up a reaction at Crazy Melvin to the recent elections in the States. Go check it out if you have a minute.

Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this thing so far! Your continued support and encouragement mean a lot to me.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Cheap wine and pillowcases

First of all, let me just say this: if anyone tells you that you can't get bad wine in Spain, you can tell them that your ol' uncle Jerod said they could go suck an egg. 'Cause that's what this wine I bought the other day tastes like. Old eggs. Skuuuuuun-kee. Whew. It's making my eyes water just thinking about it. It actually made poor Oisin have to go lie down for awhile. He drank a little bit and then was staring intently at the glass, holding it up to the light, etc. He says, "you know, if the wine stains the glass it means they've used a powder." Duhhhh...wha??? "If the wine stains the glass"??? Yup, sure enough. The wine stained the glass.
It wasn't like I bought the super-ass cheapo wine, either, it was about the same price as all the other wine I've bought here. I mean, very cheap, yeah, 3-4 Euros, but I know for a fact you can get decent wine here for that much. The obvious question is, why would you make powdered wine when it's so cheap to make decent wine. The answer is equally obvious: never underestimate the power of greed. Or the powder of greed in this case, I guess.
Another difference here that I've neglected to mention so far: the pillowcases. They have an ingenious and, imho, far superior format for pillowcases. To whit: they're open on both sides. That's right, it's a cylindrical tube with no seams on the ends. It might seem odd at first, but think about it; why do you need one side closed up? This way, you can make the case tight enough to cling to the pillow, and once you get it started you can just reach in the other side and pull it through! Works great.
So what else is going on...I went for a long walk on Saturday, down to the beach and then along the shoreline for a couple miles. It's a fun walk, and the water was lovely. It was overcast for the most part, but the sun broke through a couple times for some beautiful vistas.
On my way back I thought of a good metaphor for trying to learn how to speak a new language: it's akin to trying to write an email or letter to someone, only you don't have all the letters available on the keyboard. Like a little kid had picked off some of the keys or something. So you have all these thoughts in your head that you'd like the express, but you don't have access to some of the most basic building-blocks of communication.
For example, let's pick a random sentence that anyone could imagine saying or hearing or reading in an email: "I'm going to go to the grocery store to grab some beers and snacks for the football game, want me to get anything for you?"
Now imagine, if you will, that you're trying to write that on a keyboard, but you're missing three simple, but essential, vowels: a, i, and u. Here's what I came up with:
"Me go to the store for beer n' food for to see tv foot-globe contest. Want me get some for too?"

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Crazy Melvin

Hey check it out; I've started contributing to a group blog:
http://www.crazymelvin.com
It was put together by my buddy Eric; he's also the master of its domain. If you know what I mean.
We came up with the name Crazy Melvin several months ago while I was visiting Eric, his wife Beth, and their twin boys Sam and Holden in Spokane. It's from a Sesame Street episode with dancing pencils (I was convinced for years and years that they were bananas). It was always one of my favorite Sesame Street episodes, something I'd cite when making my point that Sesame Street is actually really funny, even now, even as adults. The premise: three pencils, in a row, dancing to rumba music. It really is a lot funnier if you can act it out, of course, but the purpose is to teach kids about first and last. And to have first and last you have to have middle, right? Well in this case, middle is...that's right, it's CRAZY MELVIN!!! Ha-cha!
I wish I could find a link to a video of the scene, but it seems to be the one thing not available on the interweb. Sure, I can get 1.3 millions videos of [incredibly offensive and disgusting sexual act described in lurid detail deleted] but no Crazy Melvin??? W.T.F.
Here's a picture; it's grainier than that video of Bigfoot walking through the forest, but it's the best I can offer:















So there you go. Check it out when you have a moment. It's also linked in the sidebar over there->
I will continue to post in both locations.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Viewing pleasures

Not to beat this whole Kerry thing into the ground...but was I the only one who was hoping he'd say something like, "I apologize to all the fine servicemen and women serving in Iraq who were too stupid to understand that I was making a joke"?

Just watched "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" last night. Pretty good, and the unexpected addition of Vince Vaughn made it even more saucily tasty. Seriously, do you think Brad's kinda pissed off at Vince? Or does Vince have to pretend to hate Brad when Jen's watching Access Hollywood and they're talking about Brangelina adopting kids again, but secretly Vince understands? But I digress. The movie: You could easily see how Brangelina could fall in love during the filming, its chemistry was apparent. I went in with very few expectations, which is always the best way to enjoy an action movie I think. But by the end I found myself actually getting fairly excited when they set up the final showdown in the Costco. Turned out to be fairly anti-climactic. I thought the earlier scenes in their house—beginning with their face-off with each other and then culminating in their teaming up against the other hitmen—and on the freeway, with them taking out the three cars in the minivan, were both more exciting and original. And the one line that actually made me chuckle: “These doors really are convenient!” I never really got into the whole comedic premise of the movie—the juxtaposition of their marriage with their careers—but that was a good line. And when Adam Brody asks from the back seat, “who are you people???” right after they’ve kidnapped him. That was a nice touch, too; good to see Adam Brody expanding his repertoire. Switching from the wise-cracking Jewish high school kid to the wise-cracking Jewish hitman...he really stretched his chops on that one. Soon enough we'll see such favorites as "wise-cracking Jewish host of his own late-night infomercial" and "wise-cracking Jewish upper-left square."

On that same topic: Doug Liman, the director. Also directed "The Bourne Identity," which I knew. What I didn’t know: he directed the first season of The OC, which explains the presence of Brody (as well as the prime-secondary-but-non-speaking role given to the woman doctor from House MD). AND Liman directed Swingers! I did not know that. Explains Vince Vaughn though, right?

What else have I watched since I got here...Oisin actually has an enormous movie collection, he downloads them all, so I have a whole bunch to choose from. Watched “Catch Me if You Can,” surprisingly good. And I haven’t yet gotten all the way through "King Kong." I really enjoyed the first hour of that one, then the second hour...wow. What can you say about the second hour? I was all with it during the big fight between Kong and the raptors (who have obviously replaced T-Rex as the go-to scary-ass dinosaurs). But then, when all the guys fell down into that pit...and there was that extended scene fighting off all the huge bugs? Mother of God. I seriously could not handle that. The one-armed dude getting eating by the worms? Oh hell no. But just all the enormous spiders and locusts and centipedes, Jesus T.F. Christ. After “Lord of the Rings” I guess I kinda forgot Peter Jackson’s MO early in his career. All those zombie movies and “Meet the Feebles” and whatnot receded nicely into the background, replaced by ginormous set-pieces and amazing actions sequences. I have to hand it to him, he’s still the gross-out king. I guess he didn’t want anyone to forget that.

As I said, I still haven’t watched the third hour. Or the forth. Or however many more hours this longass frickin' movie has. But I will at some point.

Other than that, I rewatched “40 Year Old Virgin,” which is right there at the top of my “funniest movies of all time” list. Okay, since you asked, here’s the list: “40 Year Old Virgin”; “South Park: Bigger, Longer, and Uncut”; “Office Space”; “Team America”; "Pulp Fiction"; “This Is Spinal Tap”; “Raising Arizona”; the scenes in “So I Married an Axe Murderer” with his family; uhhhh...I know I'm forgetting something here. Ah well.

Otherwise I’ve watched a couple American movies in Spanish for “studying purposes”: Unforgiven (still impressive in any language) and “Sweet and Lowdown,” which definitely loses something in translation, just because Sean Penn’s vocal performance is so great. And it’s funny to see Woody Allen not sound like Woody Allen.

I totally gave up on Lost. Could not get into it. It says something about my interest that I got fairly close to the end of season 1 and still did not care what happened next. I finally gave up completely when they returned to one of Jack’s back-stories. I can’t stand Jack. And that whole love-triangle with him and the bad dude and the chick, whatshername...oh yeah, Kate. Fuck. That. Noise. I know it’s necessary for a network tv show and whatever. But no thanks, not with my 42 minutes.

And what about that whole torture thing? Yeah right, everything’s going to be cool in the school after the Iraqi guy shoves sharp sticks under bad dude’s fingernails! And don’t tell me they dealt with it by sending Iraqi guy off for a few episodes, having him be tortured, etc. That’s all well and good from a karmic angle, I guess...but a couple episodes later, after I.G. returns, they’re actually making jokes about it! I remember at some point Jack saying something to Kate about the sexual tension between her and bad dude; something like, “last time you did that, you ended up making out with him.” And she responded with something like, “yeah, well, that’s because torturing him didn’t work!” And then he kinda smiled and shook his head, like in a sitcom when the husband mouths off about dinner and the wife responds with something about how bad he is in the sack. Hello??? We’re talking about torture here, people!

Wow, that rant got out of control in a biiiig hurry. Anyone still with me? Hellooo...

Thursday, November 02, 2006

In commemoration of the two year anniversary of the anti-christ stealing his second election

So this whole John Kerry flap. Notwithstanding the fact that what he said is exactly correct...does anyone now doubt that he’s a secret Republican? I mean really. Could he have chosen a more muddled, wrong-spirited way to say something? Not to mention the timing. The one thing the Dems had going for them was the war. That’s it. (Well, the pedophiles and overt racists in Florida helped too. But you know what I mean.) And now the GOP has this stupid sound-bite to play over and over, distracting attention from the real issues about the war...seriously, Kerry is a Republican.

But back to what he said. It’s no secret that the armed forces are peopled by the poor and under-educated. Well, strike that: the people who are on the front lines fighting the actual hand-to-hand (for lack of a better phrase) are the poor and undereducated. There are of course others, working the computers, listening to chatter in Arabic and monitoring web sites, or else they’re making $10G a month as private contractors. But isn’t it a pretty well-known fact that the vast majority of the people who actually make up the armed forces are there because they’re poor and undereducated? Isn’t that the whole point? That’s how they sell the fucking program, for god’s sakes! "Need to learn a marketable skill? Can't afford college? We can help!"

Of course, nobody likes to be overtly told they’re stupid trash, especially by a Senator from New England. But whatever. Anyone who thinks the Democrats are going to save this country, fix the problem in Iraq, stop recruiting poor people into the armed forces...well, I respectfully disagree. As my esteemed brother likes to say, the Democratic party is where social movements go to die. Nope, what we need is a complete overhaul. I for one nominate Bill and Melinda Gates as the new presidents of everything.

What else is going on. Ah, this is fun:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/6105412.stm

More good news for alcoholics! Here’s the line that really gets me:

“They discovered the mice given resveratrol alongside their food...showed decreased glucose levels, healthier hearts and liver tissue, and better motor function compared with the mice on the same diet but without the supplement.”

So now drinking is good for your liver? And motor functions, for god’s sakes? So, like, you should be able to drink a bunch of red wine and, say, go for a drive or something? I believe the appropriate phrase is "tell it to the judge."

It’s been a quiet week. Sunday a bunch of us went to Park Guell, that big park on the “mountain” (snicker) in the middle of town. It hasn’t rained here in awhile so the air quality sucks, but you could still see the whole city stretched out on all sides. I took some hazy pictures. It was a nice hike up the “mountain” (guffaw), and there was a lot Gaudi sculptures up there, too. I know, big surprise, huh? Gaudi in Barcelona??? No WAY. If I may paraphrase the great Jonathan Richman, Gaudi loved color and he let it show. His sculptures have twice the colors other sculptures have. Anyone know the etymology of the word “gaudy”? I think it might derive from “Gaudi.”

Actually, there's a rumor/urban legend that Gaudi was color-blind, and only did his best work at the end of his career with a young apprentice...check out the crazy lizard at Park Guell and it's not hard to believe.

Watched the Champions League futbol match between Chelsea and Barcelona the other night, that was fun. As you may recall, this was the first match-up I attended the week I got here, too. Chelsea won that one in London, and the rematch was here. A very important game for many reasons. Exceedingly chippy. The ref lost control early. Good times. There were some amazing plays, though, including the prettiest goal you're ever likely to see. It gets better every time I watch it.

Anyways, the game ended in a draw when Drogba equalized in the sixth minute of extra time. That's a helluva lot, by the way. And then the ref inexplicably called time at the 5:19 mark. Very odd. So, what this means is that, since I got here, FC Barca has lost twice and drawn at home to their two biggest rivals, Chelsea and Real Madrid. A little secret: I'm rooting against Barca. I mean, if I moved to Boston I wouldn't suddenly become a Red Sox fan, right? I'm funny like that. I will almost invariably go against the popular opinion. I'm sure if I moved to London instead I'd now be rooting for Barca. But seeing as how I'm here, I naturally tend towards the side that nobody in the room is rooting for. I am actually beginning to like Chelsea...the Russian mafia ties are just the icing on the cake. They're like an all-star team.

Yesterday was a bank holiday here. I tell ya, if you think it sucks when you can’t go the bank in the states on bank holidays...imagine if you couldn’t go the grocery store. Or anywhere else for that matter. It’s actually kind of refreshing, to tell the truth. Not quite so materialistic; the need to buy anything you want at any time you want. Not that they’re not getting the idea, of course. I went for a wander yesterday and most everywhere was closed...but I’m sure if I went to some of the bigger shopping malls I could have gotten a cell phone and a Big Mac. You know what? Damn. I walked by a Burger King the other day and completely forgot to check if they had a Royale con Queso. I’ll do some research and get back to you on that one.

Hahaha, check it out:

[Middle English gaudi, gaud, prank, trick, possibly from Old French gaudie, merriment.]

Gaudy really does derive from Gaudi. Suh-weeeeet...