Nervously awaiting a reunion

I am, to be frank, a nerd. That's okay, and I'm good with it. I actually have been for a long time. As a young man, I was for years in the Talented and Gifted program (TAG)in our local school system as a result of some test I took, from which I really only remember the freeform drawing section. As a result, from 4th-9th grades, I took classes with the sameish group of about 50 people so we all were pretty close by the end. In fact, I still keep in touch with a handful, and a few of them were roommates in college or married other friends of mine.

The experience was, I imagine, a lot like school for other kids, except we had teachers that were much much wackier. Mr. Z was the ex-hippie English teacher who had us reading Salinger at 12 and was the first to teach us about recycling, meditation, and Barbie Doll mutilation. Ms. S was the science teacher who thought the symbol for hydrochloric acid was "HCI" (its not) and had a huge mole on her face which distracted from learning in a way that really doesn't matter when you are in public school. Mrs. F was the authoritarian social studies guru who taught us about reading and making graphs as well as mini-society. And so on.

To say that this educational experience had a profound impact on my life would be an understatement. It was a strange time where we were given a lot of very adult material to think about and lots of room for creativity. We had very deep and complex relationships with our teachers, some of whom we saw in their weakest moments, another passed away suddenly. It was a pretty intense educational experience, I'd imagine comparable to going to boarding school but less structured.

When I sporadically have seen people from this group we often crack jokes about classmates or recall the strange goings on of our youth, as I'm sure most do. However the whole time, I questioned our designation of being the "smart" kids and constantly wondered what people would turn out like in the future.

Well, tomorrow I find out.

Three of us who kept in touch usually meet up over the holiday for beers as of the last few years, the most recent of which we decided to try to remember who we went to school with and see if we couldn't google/friendster/e-stalk them and get them together sometime. It was one of those "man it would be hilarious if" ideas, which I wouldn't have expected to work out, if it weren't for Spencer.

He decided to make this work and has been putting together a TAG reunion for about a month with some minor help from me. The planning group found people in far-off locales: Working for NPR in MN, small town lawyer in KY, pet store owner in the same city, etc. Almost instantly, people began to make plans to travel to my hometown for the reunion. It became a big deal.

So I'm curious to know tomorrow what everyone is up to, if in fact we were the smart kids, and what we got out of that strange educational experience. I'm very nervous for some reason and I'll post the report after the fact, along with pictures of how fat/bald everyone got.

Hope you all are having a good holiday and taking 'er easy.

at the Triple Crown

I joined friends over at Triple Crown, a place that usually features Ali Shaheed Muhammed of a Tribe Called Quest Thursdays on the tables. He is apparently elsewhere now, and it was evident from the complete deadness on this particular Thursday.

That being said, the place is supercool and the music is solidly in the Native Tongues vibe. The bartender is a guy named John who offered us shots quickly after entering made of chocolate soymilk and various vodkas. Skeptically, we popped them and they ended up actually being enjoyable.

"I've been working on this for a while, but I don't have a name for it yet."

In a flash, something jumped into my head and I blurted it out

"How about a 'vegan slut'?"

John was immediately satisfied and told me the shot would be on the menu next time I came through. I suggest you stop by and check.

At the Lamest Tailgate Ever

 
So I went to the Harvard-Yale game tailgate at my special lady-friend's behest. I was told it was supposed to be a wild, fun time filled with smartypants getting wasted and being clever. Instead I found a truck with posterboard and marker denoting the *combined* tailgate of two whole Harvard College classes. That means of the, oh, I don't know, 2000 graduates of the most prestigious college in the US, about 14 sheepish goofballs gathered around a hot grill and icy cooler for free beers and discussion of graduate school on what is advertised as the biggest alumni social event of the year.

Let me be the first to say GO BLUE.

ADVICE: If you are not in some sort of grad school when you get to the 4th or 5th year out of college (even art or music school), don't show up to the H-Y game. People will mock you and your earning potential. 

Bumping into the Governator

I have, for some time, complained that I haven't seen more famous people in New York. I have to admit, I like seeing them and for some reason I get really excited around famous people for no good reason. The city is meant to be chock full of them but somehow they hang out everywhere but where I go.

There is a sort of standard conversation which occurs among people who live here where you recant who you've seen and how different they were than you imagined. A small subset of people will respond to this conversation by listing a few people, then saying "whatever - no big deal" and then shrug. I hate these people.

So I was at the first day of a new project and after getting a general explanation of what the work was going to be like, I suggested we go for a bagel. On the way back from crossing the street from the bagel spot, cops appeared out of nowhere and started yelling. Then suburbans zoomed up and press photographers started snapping pictures. Out of one truck pops The Governator himself. I stood there dumbfounded with my poppy seed and dairy breakfast and possibly jaw open.

Apparently he was there to discuss energy initiatives with his new pal Mike Bloomberg, probably having mirthful money fights at the end. True to The Conversation, I have to say he's much shorter than I would have expected, and its not clear from the pictures but his head is enormous. Anyhow, that's all.

Yes, I find that shit exciting so fuck off.

Pickin Apples

 

Last weekend I was up in Boston and some friends and I drove out to the countryside to go apple picking. I have to say, it was hilariously fun. Also, since most of the easy apples had been picked, the job really amounted to a lot of tree-climbing, monkey impressions, and assorted apple-related humor. (William Tell, I'm a Mac, you're PC, etc) Eating apples which are freshly picked is a completely different experience and only goes to prove what an unadulterated cityslicker I've become. They're delicious. 

Glaring at you

There is a place in my neighborhood that serves half-assed cheap Italian food and last night this table of Asian folks asked me to take a picture with their camera. The guy on the left made this amazing toughguy face so I asked to take another with my own camera. Inbetween photos, he was happy and laughing. So weird.

The view from Iraq

Friends:

My friend Chris has been on the ground with the Marines in Iraq for the past year. In general I'm pretty opposed to the war and am generally a raging liberal, but having a buddy running around dodging carbombs makes the position a lot more firm. Another friend at work was in the Army for many years and over drinks discussed the very moment he lost his faith in the administrations motives. I think it really crushed him. I think a lot of people out there are doing terrible things because they believe in leadership which is embarassing at best and are now coming around to the realization that there is no man behind the curtain. As far as I'm concerned, every bumper should have two stickers "Support our troops" AND "End the war". They're not orthogonal ideas.

Anyhow, Chris has been sending me emails and pictures of whats going on over there and thankfully he's now coming home. I'm happy for his wife and kids - they must have gone through a lot. Here is his sign-off email and I think it's worth reading. Just a note, he has signed all of his emails "peace" for the past year. I hope you are all well.

"Folks,

This will be the last e mail you receive from this address as we will be starting our long journey out of here soon.

I attached two photos of things that I will not miss about being here. The first was an attack in which 3 of my Marines were injured. Two were sent home and one of them was stuck in the wreckage of the vehicle. We had to cut him out and get him on a helicopter while we attempted to kill the people responsible for his injuries. People will surprise you in such situations as often it is the person thought a coward or a follower that can step forward and lead with great courage and perseverance. We have had some hard times over here but the Lord has been with us and everybody will recover from their injuries eventually.

The second is a photo of incoming mortar fire. Rarely is anyone injured or killed by this which is usually inaccurate because the insurgents know that radar guided artillery fire usually fires back quickly enough to blow them to bits if they hang around for an accurate shot.

I have learned a lot over here some of which I would like to forget. Please let me offer some parting thoughts on a few topics:

MEDIA COVERAGE: Those who know me well would probably call me a news addict. However, since I have been here I have lost all confidence in the American media’s ability to report the full story. Rather than give a wide view of situations such as these they gravitate more towards the sensational story that they think American couch potatoes want to see. Most of the news outlets have some sort of political drive behind them (from both ends of the spectrum) that causes them to miss the full story in favor of bits and pieces that drive home their agenda. A lot of coverage is given to American casualties and potential mistakes and crimes but little is spent covering it from the other end. Terrible things have happened here at the hands of the various Islamic Insurgent groups in the name of their drive to a caliphate that never gets reported. For example, large amounts of children were killed recently in an insurgent attack which never made the news. A lot of roadside bombs now are no longer command detonated but can and do kill indiscriminately the first vehicle that drives by. My armored HMMWV may take a blast from a few buried artillery shells but a car with a family in it will not. I would estimate that over twice as many civilians are killed by IEDs than US Forces and I have personally witnessed such messes but that IS NEVER REPORTED. The bottom line is don’t believe everything you read and if you want the full story you need to consult multiple news outlets to get it. The 24 hour cable news phenomenon makes a lot of people think they are arm chair generals. Do not be one of those people.

DEMOCRACY: There are a lot of Iraqis risking their lives daily in an attempt to get their nation to the next level. However, this is a very old society and their understanding of time is vastly different than ours. Joe Six Pack American thrives on instant gratification. The land where you can have it your way at the drive through or order a commemorative Elvis Plate Set on the internet and have it show up at your door the next day needs to adjust its expectations accordingly when dealing with other societies. The rest of the world does not work that way. The 230 years of American History is a blink of an eye over here. Our democracy did not spring to life in its current painful form overnight and neither will this one. Impending civil war not withstanding, what is happening here cannot be judged on an hourly daily basis like the NYSE. These things take patience especially when dealing with a different culture. Iraq is an unnatural nation similar to the former Yugoslavia under Marshal Tito (now Kosovo, Bosnia, Serbia etc) if so the ethnic fractures may be too much for democracy to heal but it will still take many years until we know for sure.

POLITICS: The Iraqi democracy will ultimately succeed on the backs of the Iraqis. Whether we pull out of here next month or in 2020, most of us will ultimately go on with our lives. However, the quest for better national security will continue regardless of who is in power. While I understand that people vote for their politicians based on the issues, all Americans need to understand that we will not get very far if all our time is spent on partisan politics. Whether you are a Democrat or Republican, vote for the politician who is willing to compromise and do what is best for the people…ALL THE PEOPLE.

I just want to sign off by saying that the heroes in wartime situations like this are the families left behind to continue their lives as if everything is normal. My wife is one of those people and she has shown great strength, perseverance and support throughout the last year. I am truly a lucky person to have such people in my life and for that I will be eternally grateful. Please support such people whenever you can.

PEACE,

Captain Christopher (lastname) USMCR

Avoiding The Post

New York is an interesting place, to say the least. There is obviously a lot going on, not only fun stuff like the Lincoln Center Jazz Band playing in the courtyard outside your building, but clearly lots of work, as seen from all the poor analysts with their hands and faces pressed against the glass upstairs wishing they could go down and enjoy the music.

Famously, New Yorkers walk really fast as well, to demonstrate exactly how important and late they are. I thought this was dumb until I realized yesterday I was huffing past lopey tourists and grumbling. Anyhow, one important element of this constant hurrying is the fashion in which people absorb news in the morning.

There are several options, but they fall into three categories: Real Papers (of which I mean the Wall Street Journal or Financial Times, or NY Times if you're unemployed), the Free Papers (AM New York and Metro), and The Post. People who read the Real Papers are obviously posturing and taking up too much space on the subway with their broadsheets. This is an asshole thing to do.

The more acceptable and plebian thing to do is read the Free Papers. Every city has some version - they're about 20 pages, cover a lot of important topics, including celeb gossip and local sports, and importantly, they're free. The barkers stand by the subway entrances and tell you good morning and are generally pretty pleasant people. Unless there is one representative from each paper. Then it's an angry competition between two aproned fellows yelling "AM NEW YORK!" "NO! METRO!" at which point everyone just walks by choosing neither.

Importantly, while these papers are certainly not good in the objective sense, they're not really all that biased and are acceptable to read by all walks of life. There's a sudoku in the back, a coverage of league-wide sports scores, and a brief sampling of world news. It's exactly 15 minutes worth of reading, and it doesn't make you mad.

On the other hand, the New York Post is without question the worlds worst newspaper. To begin with, they have perfected the alarming font, which early in the morning on the subway lets you know with no uncertainty and in a very loud (written) voice that "HILLARY MAY RUN FOR WHITE HOUSE!" and soforth. Not only is it the largest headline of any paper, but they do their best to pun it up as much as possible. A few weeks ago, when they nabbed the guys in the airplane bomb plot, it was, predictably, "SNAKES ON A PLANE!".

Not only that, the contents of the paper are probably the most biased and poorly written of any printed materials other than possibly college campus Socialist propaganda. Yet here is the crazy part: *everyone* reads it. And they pay 50 cents for the privilege. CEO-types, arty NPR-types, homeless guys, construction workers, and drag queens all find the change and time for the New York Post.

I really don't get it. Please help.

NOW I'm a local

Dear Loyal-ish readers:

Despite your worst assumptions, all is well here in APland. I disappeared abroad to do some training and made some fun international friends. Now I'm back and doing a pretty fun non-profit project in my first for-real work thing. Also, I moved this weekend to my new apt and its a total tornado as of right now and way smaller than what I'm used to. That's sort of a lot, but nothing so interesting as to be worthy of blogging about. Also, hilarious stuff happens at work, but I'm sworn to secrecy so no leaks there. Sorry.

Aside from that, I'm going to get my camera fixed and return the focus of this blog to photos (a "flog" I'm told) because NYC is super weird. Anyhow, hope you are well. Also, my friends are having a kid so check out their baby blog.

Naveen/Reena's Baby.

Feel free to comment on Naveen's lack of spelling ability.

Eating Pickles

By the way, the titles are meant to be read as the answer to "Where is AP?" "Oh, eating pickles." etc.

At a wedding recently, I discovered a tub of pickles which I did not do justice to. It is a glorious creation of brine and cucumber. I think I had at least a dozen, maybe two. I highly suggest investing in one if you get married and have invited me.

New York

I am currently a fresh tranplant to New York. I have already found myself cursing out tourists and bustling about. As of yet, I do not have access to my apartment and no address (curiously, you need an address to get a PO box) but its beginning to set in that I live here now.

Some observations: women here have to have both hands occupied with some combination of the following - coffee, dog leash, shopping bag, phone, man, or purse. Both hands. Swinging wildly.

I'm not clear where the money goes, but somehow it gets spent at a much more rapid clip here than anywhere else. Also, even though I've given up coffee, I find myself drinking copious amounts in The City. No idea why.

Its fun and there is a lot of life and character, especially in Brooklyn where I'm staying. I hope at some point I stop looking like a tourist.

In SF

This weekend I'm in SF, CA, someplace I haven't been since the 90's. The advent of the internet and the bags of money which came with it have definitely changed the face of this town. San Jose airport, which I flew into, now has a private jet area, although the rest of the airport is unremarkable.

I like SF and California in general for visiting, but it's not so much my kind of place for living. Everything is sort of taken with a breezy unseriousness that I find unsettling. I am going on a houseboat trip this weekend at Lake Shasta for a friends birthday, and decided to come in on Weds to see as many old friends as possible. I'm staying with a close family friend who left academics for the Real World Job and its giving me the willies. But her place is cool and there are literally cable car trolleys outside her window. I feel like some Rice-A-Roni. What is that stuff anyhow?

Weds I met some friends who work at eBay, at an internet startup, and an Asian PE fund down closer to San Jose. Thursday I went to the startup's office, which included a windowless soundproof meditation room left over from the bubble days. In the evening, I met a friend from school who works at a biotech firm and her husband who works in the wine industry. After that I met up with a friend in Berkeley who worked in public health and was married to an environmentalist. To be sure, I've covered nearly every stereotypical Bay Area profession and managed to catch up with a ton of folks.

People here talk of the halcyon Bubble days in such vivid terms, it sounded like a Roman party. Everyone has a story of how much X was done, who sold the most companies and for how much, and the excessive childishness of office environments. Those that "got out at the right time" are now largely taking lifestyle jobs and often times doing nothing at all and those who didn't are now in regular jobs at large tech companies.

I definitely consider myself a liberal although in this part of the country, I find myself telling hippies to get a job and scoffing at the number of raw/vegan restaurants, herbal healing stores, and shaman drum outlets. It is, however, super easy to get great vegetarian food. Additionally, no one really seems to have grown up here - everyone moved here from someplace else, giving it a very transitory feeling. Also, people speak about how great it is and how much I should move here in eerily cultish terms.

Like I said, a great place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live here.

Mandela?

 

Instead of doing a solid job describing the country of South Africa, I'll drop some photos representative of how fucked up people get when you institutionally implement racism.

For example, at one of the nicest restaurants in Capetown, for some reason, this dude in a Mandela mask comes in and freaks everyone the fuck out. Just to clarify, the other two people who came to our table to "entertain" us were a belly dancer and a coked-up cigar girl. 

Toaster Ovens

This space is normally reserved for photos and ruminations, and theres a lot of requests for South Africa recaps from people who read this for some reason, but tough shit for you, Reader. Instead I post this great chat regarding kitchen appliances I had this morning. (SA stuff will come soon)

9:09 AM Emily: I saw this:
http://www.posewithyourtoaster.com/
and thought of you, for some reason.

me: thats sweet
i have no idea what to make of that association, but I appreciate it

9:10 AM Emily: Just kind of random, I suppose.
It kind of makes me want to get all gothed out and take a pic,
but unfortunately my toaster is white.

me: you could be angry at your toaster
i don't even own one. I have a toaster oven.

9:11 AM Emily: I'm not sure if that counts...

me: i don't think I've ever owned a toaster
i wouldn't count it

Emily: I only have one because my parents got one free when they bought the breadmaker ages ago, and they didn't need it.

9:12 AM me: i use mine to heat up all kinds of pizza and its easier for toasting bagels

Emily: I've wondered whether it's worth getting one - a toaster oven, I mean.
Seeing as I already have both a toaster and an oven, it's hard to justify.

9:13 AM me: having a toaster is sort of classic, but the toaster oven sort of takes over a different space than the conventional oven. Its for quick use - none of this pre-heating - but when you don't want something microwaved

Emily: It definitely makes sense for heating up pizza.
9:14 AM I'm not really happy with the results of microwave or oven for that.

9:15 AM me: thats what I'm saying. The microwave is really only good for beverages, popcorn, and leftovers already covered in plastic wrap. Lets face it - the microwave isn't the revolutionary item it was promised to be. You could do just as well with a tea kettle, some jiffy pop, and the stove

Emily: I never thought of it that way.
Talk about a product really failing to live up to the hype.
9:16 AM I imagine the aging, disillusioned fifties housewives,

me: And the oven is just excessive, energy wise. Who wants to wait 15 minutes to heat up your oven? This is where the toaster oven bridges the gap between microwave and oven.
I'm not sure if you're old enough to remember, but the original microwaves were actually made to look like conventional ovens for some reason. If it were up to me, I would have made them look like teleportation devices

9:17 AM Emily: With lots of chrome, and led flashy lights?

me: Yeah, and they're heavy as fuck for some reason. I had a small one from the 80's and it must have weighed 35 lbs. I never figured it out and eventually gave it away in anger

9:18 AM Emily: Good call.
My parents actually had a nice one for ~20 years...
...it even had wood panelling that matched the kitchen cabinets.
It was permanently mounted above the oven, though, so portability wasn't an issue.

9:19 AM me: what was the fascination with making things look like they were made of wood using paneling? I never got that. We had it all over our house. Are we supposed to be in some sort of log-cabin?

9:20 AM Emily: It was some very bizarre appeal to fashion, I think,
as though cars from the Flintstones were still hip.

me: in closing, think about the toaster oven. I think it'll do a lot for you and ask very little in return.

Emily: I wonder why woodgrain-print fabric never caught on.

me: thats even less plausible

9:21 AM Emily: True. A few strategically placed knotholes and you're a laughingstock.
But yeah, I'll think about a toaster oven.

Madrid

For whatever reason, I have a 16 hour layover in Madrid on the way to Johannessburg in each direction, but who am I to complain? After arriving, I took the subway to the city center, enjoyed the local cuisine including Manchego cheese and Galicia Estrella. I´ve never been to Spain (but I sure do like the music) and I definitely think I´m going to return. the weather here is great, the women are amazing, and the pace of life is pretty chill. There is a great mix of modernity and history, where people will wear current fashions but throw in a toreador hat or use a folding fan.

Across Europe, the formation of the EU has led to much immigration from all parts of the world, but it seems as if English are streaming here at a marathon pace. I asked one of them why and they said "the weather, duh". Closely following them are the Americans, who all apparently use their High School Spanish, much to the dismay of the locals. (I do the same, I have to admit) The fastest growing group is apparently the Chinese, who have established a Chinatown here in Madrid. For some reason, that blows my mind. I only saw one Indian dude and he was at the Indian restaurant, so I don´t think that counts.

I made a friend on the plane who comes every year for the bullfighting season (May-July) as part of his retirement and to remind himself of his youth in Mexico City. Since I had nothing but time on my hands, I took him up on his offer to see a bullfight in the evening. I spent the afternoon walking around, taking pictures, and trying to practice Spanish with whomever would respond. As far as cities go, Madrid is clean and well managed. The transit system here is impeccable and even the street cleaning staff is populated with blonde lithe chicas. Definitely worth a more substantial visit.

The bullfighting was interesting, as a part of the national history, and pretty much everyone in town goes to watch. This version had toreadors on horses, which is a more unusual variation, but its still bullfighting, and without much more judgement, lets say I´m probably not going to go again anytime soon. Its not really a sport so much, since the bull seems to lose every time. There is clearly a lot of skill involved in not getting your ass run over by a half-ton pissed off animal, and I see how it´s impressive.

I think on the return trip I´ll do less sleeping and more museuming. I´m off to hit my 11 hour flight to Johannesburg.

Operation Paster Blaster

Okay, this is a little strange so bear with me. Back in 1993, two friends of mine (Mark/Harry) buried a time capsule in Mark's parent's front lawn. The contents are largely forgotten to them but Lord they have not stopped yapping about it since the put it in the hole. Anyhow, Mark's parents are moving so we had an "Emergency Time Capsule Removal" scheduled for this weekend.

Mark came from S. Carolina and Harry from Boston, so we met up with our friends the night before and had a few beers.



Harry's superpower is that he sweats profusely if he even eats one medium-spicy hot wing. It's amazing.



We took in some bowling, darts, and jokes. It was good to see the guys again - its remarkable that most people largely look the same as they did in high school. We discussed the possible contents of the capsule and talked about planting another one to be opened when we're 50 and what we'd put inside it. Mostly, we were giddy with anticipation.

Saturday morning, I got the call and arrived on the scene of an already growing trench in the front lawn.



We carefully peeled back the grass and began to dig around in the area where we thought the corrugated metal sealed pod was. The problem being that the two geniuses who planted it had largely forgotten where it was, so we dug around the whole area, cheered on by Mark's parents (maybe the only parents to encourage their son to ruin their lawn) some guy with a metal detector (which was the most useless piece of equipment we had) and various neighbors.



We dug and dug. Then we speculated about where it could be, better places to dig, better digging methods, etc. The great thing about digging an enormous hole in the ground is that everyone is curious and has some sort of opinion about the right way to go about looking for a time capsule. The guy with the metal detector was actually just someone from the neighborhood who was walking around, became curious, and then hung around waiting for the result for about 3 hours.

Soon our morale began to flag. We hadn't found anything but a bunch of rocks, some broken glass, and lots of worms. Also, it was raining the entire time, so we became not only completely covered in dirt, but we were wet and cold as well. The Parents brought us subs, tea, and encouraging words. Later on we got goofy and took some zombie pictures:



Sadly, in the end we gave up and realized that it was not where it had been left. There was some speculation of whether the cable company dug it up while laying line in that area. Additionally, we thought about another time to have a go at digging it up. We replaced all of the dirt and rearranged the sod the best we could. It looked terrible. Luckily, The Parents were great about it and even thanked us for entertaining them for the day. Sometimes, parents rule.



After replacing the dirt, we spread grass seed on the top in what was the most bizarrely cathartic moment of all of the dirty labor. We laughed and were glad we were still friends after all these years. If you decide to bury a time capsule, learn from our mistakes:

1) Do not bury it too deep. Remember, you will be older and out of shape when you dig it up

2) Take pictures of the original dig site with geographical markers in the frame.

3) Make some sort of map.

4) Use rocks to point the future you in the right direction.

5) Get lots of people to help and make sure you have a post-digging tool.

Friends with Money

NY Times article

New York State of Mind

I'm in the NYC looking for apts (I found a cool one in Soho) and as usual all kinds of weird shit is happening all around me. Here are some pics from the last few days:



This is a guy on the subway singing "Jealous Guy" while sharing the bench with a passed out guy with his pants around his ankles.




This is a street in the financial district which takes advantage of the deserted nature after hours and puts tables in the middle of the street where all of the restaurants serve food. Eating in the middle of the street sounds kind of strange but its one of the coolest places I've ever seen - like a street fair but at night and more of a diner.

Why I hate "Water" by Deepa Mehta

So there's a new movie I saw at the Tribeca Film Fest last week which is the third installment of some sort of trilogy (Fire, Earth). The first one (Fire) was famous for exploring loveless marriages and lesbianism, which promptly led to protests, bans, and political discussion in India. As a movie, it was pretty good, not really amazing, but when a movie breaks taboo, you have to claim its great because its bold, not necessarily if its a good movie (see "Last Temptation of Christ"), something I regularly refer to as "more interesting than good".

So I saw "Water" expecting it to be great and profound. It sucked. Again, the reasons are varied (see below) but ultimately it takes an important social commentary and drops the ball. The base story is about widows and what a terrible lot they have in Indian society of the 1930's - isolated in a religious ashram and shunned by society, many of whom were so young when they got married that they don't remember the groom. A real social tragedy.

One problem being that like all Indian movies, there needs to be some implausible love story running through for anyone to pay attention. Why must a socially critical and historically informative movie have to have unrequited love? It really cheapens the message, which incidentally should draw attention toward gender inequality of the present day. Additionally, theres an element of "Monsoon Wedding" to the whole thing - that sickly feeling of Orientalism which makes you feel like your culture is just colorful exotic windowdressing for other people to marvel at. Again, it feels sort of inauthentic and unbelievable - like a Merchant-Ivory movie.

Additionally, it was pretty poorly acted (with the exception of the little girl, Sarala as Chuiya) and the music was pretty saccharine. At one point my friend leaned over and asked if they were using the music from "Titanic". The attempt to tie in political history was very Forrest Gumpian and didn't contribute to the story or make any statements at all.

Ultimately, this is an Eastern story told from a Western point of view, which coupled with being sort of boring, really undoes the whole thing. But being that this is the "important Indian movie" of right now, it deserves to be seen so that at least we can recognize something good when it finally shows up.

The real difficulty I'm having is the lack of narrative in film or literature which speaks to myself and my cohort of Indian-Americans of the second generation. I think it's fair to say no one has tackled that story yet. The attempts started at "American Desi" and only devolved into the cartoonish "Dude Where's the Party Yaar" et al. In a video store in London, I saw a whole shelf of these movies which I could already tell had the same jokes and Kal Penn in all of them. Yes, our parents are quirky and funny and want us to be doctors, but isn't there more to this story? C'mon artists, get a move on.

Edit: I neglected to mention that Lisa Ray is unbelievably hot although not the best actress, but super duper hot.

Belize Photos 4

 

This is the tiny island where I did my dive training.

 

In the Rum Aisle of the local grocery, someone decided to indicate the health effects of the sauce using marker.

 

John the Baker.

 

This is the soccer game I mentioned a few posts ago. This is where the Placencia Pirates hold court.

Belize Photos 3

 

Turtle Inn is owned by Francis Ford Coppola. In the office center, he framed a newspaper ad of little Sophie's movie.

 

The Tree of Wisdom, which is apparently where one brings several cases of beer, upon consumption of which, the mysteries of the universe are revealed.

 

Outside view of the beach bar.

 

Palm trees.

Belize Photos 2

 

Most peoples houses doubled as small businesses.

 

The Beach Bar where I spent most of my time.

 

A view of the national treasure, Belikin Beer, in its natural habitat.

 

Tuck and Bob pushing pawns. Much chess was played and stuff talked.

Belize Photos

 

Jet's Bar at Belize Int'l Airport

 

This is the "plane" I took to Placencia which makes its home on dirt airstrips across the country.

 

On the plane, the inflatable life jacket is stored in a ziplock bag. Needless to say, I gripped it tightly.

 

This was the view out of the plane.

Belize international airport

I am back at Jets Bar in the airport, staffed with only a short Tattoo-voiced 68-year old man named Jet. My flight to Dallas is hours away and I sit here finishing "Life of Pi" (it is excellent) and enjoying my last tastes of Belikin.

The TV in the bar catches me up on Headline News and curiously breaks into commercials to show low-budget scrolling obituaries with a passport photo in the corner while "Nobody does it Better" (instrumental) plays. (Note: Thom Yorke once declared onstage that this song was the sexiest ever written. The justaposition makes me uneasy.)

Jet serves up one type of beer, rum punch, margaritas, and hot dogs which can be complimented only with obsessively arranged cans of Pringles. The bar, practically, has terrible selection but is buoyed by the owner and his love of flirting with girls on vacation and general good-naturedness. Everyone who sets foot in here calls him by his first name and those who don't find it comfortable almost immediately.

A note on who comes through here: largely, only a few classes exist, aside from Belizians (which leaves Americans and British). First are the young hippies, here for the ruins, diving, or "experiencing the third world". Ironically, these people are the least friendly. Second are the wealthy. They travel in couples who seem recently retired or are going on some exorbitant vacation package, or in groups of men with the calculating gaze of investors looking for an angle. In talking to these people, you notice they are evaluating you and pitching real estate in the shadiest possible way. Finally, there are the honeymooners, who are the most friendly, possibly due to the hangover of mixing matrimony and a big-ass party. I think it stands true still that travelling abroad gives you an excellent view back at your own countrymen.

After a few beers I meet a boozy former-cocktail waitress / current-tractor seller Belizian woman who sells me the story of her life as is only appropriately told on a bar stool.

Monday, Placencia

On my own today doing some reading and serious hammock time. As my electricity was out, I walked into town. Apparently everyone else had the same idea and there was a run on the gelateria near the gas station since they were giving away their soon-to-be useless product.

Later, I asked around to see what the hotspot of the evening would be, only to find Monday is the day to stay in here. "Rum-inflicted injuries," my friend Mr. Aron said. I walked to The Galley for curry and lime juice and noticed staying in meant watching TV as loudly as possible. Apparently there is an audience for The Showbiz Show. A little eavesdropping reveals everyone here still remembers Hurricane Iris and the devastation she brought a few years ago. A friends seafront bar went completely into the water where now only a crooked stump protrudes from the water. I ate while watching a pickup soccer game, paid the bill, and went home.

I've had an amazing time but its time to trade my borrowed life back for my own.

Placencia

I've been in Placencia, Belize since last Tuesday, a small peninsula in the southern part of the country. The trip here required a small plane ride from Belize City with a 10-person "plane" which landed on a dirt airstrip just outside of town. It was easily the most scared and fun I've ever had in a plane.

People casually refer to this place as Paradise and really it's not too far off. The people are warm, friendly, generous, and laid back. There is little to no crime, the air and water are both in the 80's and there is a sweet Caribbean breeze blowing in at all times to keep you cool. People here are Breeze Connisseurs, as they discuss which parts of town have better and worse breezes who prefers which type of wind. This certainly isn't a rich place, but its not horribly poor either and there are reasonable guest houses and hotels next to shacks on stilts with kids playing among the laundry drying on lines in the back.

There are certainly a lot of tourists here, mostly from America, but they're mostly here for diving and so the locals don't seem to mind them very much. A friends mom manages the high-end hotel in town which is where I've been hanging out mostly, playing chess, enjoying mojitos, staring off into the sea, and discussing politics and philosophy. Joe Montana and his family are all staying there, and while I haven't spoken to him, he seems like a pretty nice guy and his kids are well mannered and bad at backgammon. He enjoys the anonymity of not having anyone know who he is, clearly, and is here for the Whale Shark diving like most people at the resort.

I went diving for the first time yesterday while in the middle of my certification class and saw the ocean for the first time. While it takes some getting used to, its definitely fun and i'm glad so much instruction and safety surrounds the sport. My friends and I are already talking about future diving trips, although I'm going to probably try to ease into it. My new friend Glen (who is also the mayor) is a master diver and told me to stick with it and that its the most important thing I can do as a scientist. He was pretty gone on the local rum at the time, so I may have to reconsider, but he is well respected here so who knows.

A friends godfather is here and he is without question the Trip MVP, logging most inappropriate comments, best over-the-top claims and exaggerations, and picking up the most dinner and drink tabs. The first time I met him, he asked the bartender for drinks and said "Get comfortable young man, you're about to tell me your whole life story." And I did. It took a few hours but he's genuinely interested in helping out other people as well as impressing his intelligence on them. Last night he asked one girl "So tell me what are your reproductive plans?" I might have to hang out with him next time I get the chance.

Anyhow, that's it from here. I'm enjoying reading in hammocks and watermelon juice today and thats about it. As for Placencia, I think my feelings are best summarized by the the prophet Ferris who once said, "If you have the means, I highly recommend it, it is so choice."

More

- Is "Scary Movie 4" really the number one movie in America? Really?

- Why on earth does anyone issue paper airplane tickets in this day and age? Do they want to piss people off and be totally inconvenient? It works.

More vacation fun in a day or so.

Misc Ranting

While doing nothing, I wish to declare the following:

- "Free Ride" is the most half-assed attempt at a comedy pilot since "Emily's Reasons Why Not." It's like when your least creative friend offers you a short story and says "Dude, read it and tell me how good it is" when you're 14. When was the last time a new series came on Fox and you didn't hear about it 2 months in advance? Exactly. That's why it's terrible. My friends' intense older brother told me once, "You reap what you sow,"

- Scary Movie 4 has no parodies of actual scary movies.

- "South Park" and "Family Guy" are having a Beef. It's only funny as long as its a joke. Beefs are so 1997 that now there's a DVD series about them.

- Little Einstein, while generally educational and fun, focuses on classical music and art way more than toddlers can really appreciate. For that matter, more than their parents appreciate - I suppose it's just all fancy-pants if your kid knows about staccatto and adaggio but really is he any smarter?

- Proof (of Eminem's D12 crew) is dead and everyone is sad. Except he shot some dude in the head immediately before he himself was shot and killed. Whoops. Instant karma just got you, Playa.

Interim

No posts for a while as I've been doing not a lot of anything. The first weekend I got back all of my friends from college came for a buddy's 30th. This is the second time I've had a ton of houseguests (10 this time) and I really can't get enough. It's nice to see people coming into themselves more and more as the years pass. Since then, I've been cleaning the house and watching an inordinant amount of TV. Next week I'm going to spoil my nephew and then take some more vacations later.

Pretentious Rabbit

 
A copy of "Peter Rabbit, Hieroglyph Edition" from the gift shop at the British Museum.

To quote my cousin's friend "Not much in the museum is actually British, is it?"

To quote Nick Hornby "Is there anyplace that is more bloody boring than the British Museum?" 

Weekend

Some pics from the last few days:



Chinatown in London. This was a great evening where we did some barhopping in SoHo and Leicester Square. Randomly enough, I bumped into a bunch of people who were from Detroit.

Neato sushi place with conveyer belt. Price is dictated by color of the plate.

Absolut Ice Bar - Walls, furniture, and glasses all made of ice and room was -5C. More interesting than good.

They still call them "Carphones" here and use the hectare. It's like living in a time warp.

I've been riding the tube for about 2hrs a day and initially I found it a very interesting slice of life, but now I just am mad when I forget something to read and curse tourists. Mind the gap.

Some are spicy, some are not.

Went for full on English Afternoon Tea at the Landmark Hotel. Very elaborate and proper. They have something called clotted cream which tastes like butter but is clearly very bad for you. Also has a terrible name.

Yep.

Us and Them

I've been out getting stuff for starting a normal office job and began to pay attention to what people are wearing around London. Since I last checked, more people are wearing things that would typically be seen in America, including sweat pants, tennis shoes, stuff with logos on it, and baseball hats. As far back as I can remember, people in England dressed like adults for the most part, slacks, shoes, topcoat, etc on the level of business casual at least. However there is definitely a creeping cultural change here in the UK toward all-things American.

The movie place where we went a few nights ago was surrounded by a bowling alley (didn't exist here more than a few years ago) an "On the Border" type of chain Mexican place, and a Burger King. People no longer have milkmen that bring you what you want in the morning. The mail only comes once a day now. Everyone seems to have a NY Yankees hat or jacket and apparently no one has any idea what sport the team plays. Television now has British versions of everything from "Beauty and the Geek" to "Pimp My Ride", the latter of which is apparently hilariously hosted by a white guy who says "bling" all the time, but I haven't found the listings.

You see this sort of thing going on all around Europe as well. This phenomenon of more Americanization also comes with an increasing amount of diversity in the public sphere - the train could be full of women with hijabs, African guys with African-guy hats, Polish construction workers, Sikh businessmen, and the occasional white English guy. It leads to people here calling for more restrictions on immigration, but it also makes for an amazing city. This evening I had dinner with an Indian-American cousin and her German husband. You see this globalization in major cities in America also and it makes you wonder exactly what it will mean to be from a country or race in the next 50 years. Until we figure that out, they're trying to look American and I'm trying to look English. Well, sort of.

Americana

The part of being abroad that really sucks is when people start to ask you what is going on with the government. "People must realize what a tyrant Bush is, right? People must see that he's only inciting more violence against the US, right? Who exactly is voting for him?" These questions are difficult to answer as a representative and citizen of the United States of America.

My uncle and I were discussing the administration after my cousin and I saw Syriana (It sucked. No plot. Could have been much much better. Stupid liberals always fucking up the right story.....) and he started in with the Katrina business. I agreed with what he said, probably even before he said anything. The worst part was when he compared the American public to that of the USSR or China.

He said "In communist countries, it was obvious that if you spoke out or questioned the actions of the government, you would be hurt or killed. No one had any allusions about that. However in America, questioning the government seems to be grounds for being called un-American and thusly the people seem to be cowed into complacency. No one seems to care about national issues or vote in your country at all. It is actually a much worse situation than a populace under a dictator when the people censor themselves."

Fuck, man. What am I supposed to say to that?

Holland

Definitely an interesting place. If you spend most of your time away from the Red Light district and actually try to hang out with the Dutch, you'll find that a) They are happy to get you where your going but b) Don't wish to converse with you if you're not Dutch and c) the food sucks. Aside from that, the place is a liberal wet dream - bicycles have the same rights as cars, there is free repair everywhere, social programs abound, everyone seems pretty happy and well adjusted and people don't sweat details too much. They're pretty chilled out folks in general and seem to worry about the important things.

Although sometimes I wonder if they're not so "left they become right", as in the limited number of ATM's in town, which I suspect is designed to curb spending. Anyhow, there is good ethnic food and it was great to see my friends who have been living there for over a year now.

Something no one ever seems to mention is that the city itself is very beautiful, especially the canals and also especially at night. Well worth a visit.

(Image is from an Absinthe bar. The flames are burning sugar cubes. No you do not see green fairies, that's only if its made wrong. You feel tipsy and slightly alert - same effect as Irish Coffee.)

Lundon

I've arrived here in London at my relatives house, my first visit since 2000, for which I blame graduate school. They're still great and hilarious and I'm glad to have them in my family. Tomorrow is the only real city day I get this week, as I'm leaving for Holland on Thursday to visit with friends from graduate school. I'm going to hit up some museums, which thanks to socialism are all free, and wander around some in the foul weather they have a patent on here.

In case you can't see a timestamp, it's the middle of the night and I'm jetlagged. In an effort to stay awake after arriving in the mid-morning, I had my cousin drag me to town to run errands, one of which was a stop at the Argos store. By way of explanation, Argos is a retailer more famous for their catalog than anything else, and as a result their storefront is a lobby with lots of these catalogs bolted to the walls, some cashiers and a pickup window. That's it. They cut out all the displays entirely. So you pick out what you like, pay for it, then wait in this area (comprised of a bunch of chairs in the middle of the store) where you watch a rectangle with your order number on a TV navigate the cryptic queue algorithm to figure out when your space heater will be ready. If this isn't a dystopian future already, I'm not sure what is. Again, that much better when you can barely keep your head upright.

Ideally, something more interesting to see tomorrow. I'm going to go back to bed and stare at the ceiling for another four hours.

Addendum

There is also a huge group of black people going to Tel-Aviv in front of me. Yahweh saw fit to cancel half of their reservations without notice.

My flight is delayed and I'm drinking with old british ladies at the bar. There is also a guy with a handlebar mustache, a woman shitfaced on white wine with her kids, and some Nordic junkies. The world is a strange place.

O'Hare notes

I am about to leave for Europe. In line with me at the checkin desk is a large group of loud eurotrash Italians. Two of them look like Yanni. Also there is a group going to Jamaica and they all have smiles on their faces.

The Air-India desk is staffed with white people. Everyone in line has about 5 times their own weight in luggage. Why can my people not pack? Also, traditional Indian clothes are not designed for Chicago winters.

I hope there is a bar in the gate area.

The great wheel

In Detroit, I met some old friends who recently had twins. Seeing old friends is something I never tire of, and I got to spend dinner with them and their parents whom I've known now for over 15 years as well as (literally) bounce their babies on my knee. After this I went to visit our close family friends who experienced a death in the family a few days ago of my Lila Ba (grandmother) to whom I'm not related but has been like family to me for over 20 years. She was suffering greatly in her final days from lung problems, so her passing was somewhat of a relief. She also was very particular and had made all arrangments for her services as well as her belongings well before her passing. She is survived by a husband of 55 years who doesn't really know what to do with himself, but is surrounded by family and very strong as well as maintaining some small amount of humor amidst the sadness. I'm glad she went peacefully and was emotionally prepared. We should all be so lucky. So in one evening there is birth and death and the wheel turns.

Hmm.

I met my friend Nels today for a few drinks and he suggested we get haircuts together. Not sure why, but I trust the process. We got clipped at a punkrock hair place and I have to say it went okay. I was a little concerned but some sort of minty spray put my scalp at ease. Now that I think about it, drinking and haircuts are not the best combination.

In other news, I've seen every museum in the city (except the Museum of Flight) and as a result have spent my time recently playing cards. In the last 36 hours, I've taken $500 out of one card room. There's a good story about how I almost won $7000 on a bad beat jackpot but it involves hand gestures. Also, I didn't win it.

I'm not sure why I'm leaving. Tomorrow, back to The Chi and real life. In a week after that, off to Europe. How I get to do this, I have no idea.

The Great Northern

 

This is the Snoqualmie Falls, also known as the backdrop for the opening scene of "Twin Peaks". It's beautiful and made me weirded out that BOB might be around the corner, so I quickly took pictures and left. I spent the rest of the day indoors as it was raining cats and dogs. Nothing exciting, really, just some cards and reading.

I'm running out of stuff to do that's indoors and kind of feeling homesick. I'm leaving early on Saturday and tomorrow night is going to be the big "Last night in town" fest which will involve much barhopping. Stay tuned.