2006-05-01
May Day Edition: "I was a socialist once... 'til I realized the profit margins were too low."
Okay, so I had it wrong about Reggie Bush. He is a fraud. Those diamond earrings looked like they were bought by an agent. Who I really feel bad for is Matt Leinart. Ending up with Denny Green in Arizona after being a lock for the #1 pick last year is akin to seeking asylum in the US and being invited to Guantanimo. Okay, maybe even more severe than that. But I digress... I don't know what has come over me. Why am I so into football right now, particularly considering that when it is actually on television I don't watch it that much? Maybe it is because the Twins stink so badly, and baseball has always been the soap opera that gets me through the summer. Maybe I'm just excited that Mike Tice is gone. Regardless, I'm done talking about football.
Unless we're speaking about the World Cup. Yes, Brazil is going to take it this year. I have a feeling... the last time people were kicking the ball around for global supremacy, I was in France playing the bohemian who could care less about scores. (Meanwhile, I would sneak online at Manu's house and shuffle my fantasy baseball roster and check to see if the US had in fact only lost to Germany by one goal!) In 1998 I was in Romania when the national team defeated England to advance in the World Cup playoffs. There was a mini-riot! Istvan and I ducked down and fled the bar, as bottles started flying, people started honking, and people started chanting "fuck Hungary." Someone heard us speaking English briefly -- we weren't sure what was safer, Hungarian or English -- and pointed us out in the crowd shouting -- "Brits" in Romanian. We ran like hell. Explaining I was a Yank probably wouldn't do me much good. The World Cup before that one, 1994, I was in a pub in Kaposvar, Hungary, noticing the Bosnia troop buildup outside as the US started sending troops to Hungary to "train" for Bosnia. Sam and I sat in the pub with a bunch of Norwegian and Corsican women (or are they girls at the age of 18?) getting trashed and feeling real manly -- which isn't hard when there is a 30:2 female-to-male ratio in the foreign exchange program you are on. This time, though, I'm going to the epicenter of World Cup freneticism -- Brasil! I can't wait to see this... I just received a Germany World Cup 2006 t-shirt from my in-laws. It's pretty cool, actually. I'm tempted to wear it into a Brasilian pub to see what happens. I'll let you know.
Sports... spots... pots... ...stop.
***
I'm cranking Atmosphere right now. For the first time since 1991 and the early Public Enemy albums, rap is moving me again. I can't explain it. Is it a late-20s personal crisis? Is it because I never really stopped liking the concept, I just couldn't handle the bad hip hop that predominated throughout the 90s and early millennium? Is it because the economy has become so shitty again that I am drawn to radical, anti-establishment art? Is it because he is a local artist that is adored by hip hop afficionados around the world and dedicates his album to I-94 East? (Hell, the first person turning me onto the group was my French friend Julien. I don't know. But his lyrics are intense and very autobiographical. Not that bad gangsta stuff, fictional hubris that just gets more and more outrageous to sell albums to naive pre-pubescent teens. He has one song on his newest album, "You Can't Believe How Much Fun We're Having," called "Little Man," which moves me more than any song I've heard in years. The guy is so self-deprecating. I heard someone call him emo-hop, which disturbs me a bit, as I hate emo music. Still, whatever he is doing, it is incredible progress for rap as a whole, I would argue from my novice perspective.
Needless to say, Birgit is not diggin' my new music selection. In fact, she can't stand rap. My new annoying feature is to rap what I am saying or thinking to her. I am really bad at rapping. No, I'm horrific, but that is the fun of doing it. And it drives her nuts, so it is a good way to get negative attention. (Yes, I'm very Pavlovian.) I can only do it a couple of times before she hits her limit, though, and the attention I get from her turns into annoyance, bitterness, and if I go too far, a firm smack to the back of my head.
***
I'm off to Brasil? Holy cow, man! I started packing this weekend. I'm supposed to be grading right now. I have time. I don't feel like it. I'm too busy starting to salivate about the thought of hanging on the beach, wandering Rio for a week. I went and got a bunch of accessories for my trip this weekend. A pair of sunglasses -- I always break mine, and I'm just hoping these make it to Brazil before I accidentally sit on them -- shorts, a t-shirt, and a bunch of socks, as there isn't a washing machine there. (Here's a link to the city where my brother's house is.)
I'm charging my camera battery right now. I've renewed my library books. I've been reading a bunch of cartography books this past week, trying to get school reading in so I can concentrate on reading Shogun when I'm there. (I read it years ago and bought it again at Half Price Books recently, as I don't remember anything about the book except it was one of the best I've ever read.)
Birgit is getting a little nervous, and excited, about me leaving. The dog has become quite a bit of work recently. Definitely teething. Chewing on everything isn't the problem. It's when she gets moody because her teeth hurt and there is nothing you can do... that's when she becomes snippy and all you want to do is run away from her. And well... it is a two person job raising a dog. I'm sure you could do it alone, but Birgit is the working person among us. I just hope she doesn't lose it. I know I lost it this weekend. The dog was going stir crazy, because it has been pouring for three straight days, and we don't let her dig in the mud. She normally runs around the yard for a good hour or we play out there, etc. Not this weekend. She was going nuts chasing her stuffed pig around our kitchen -- and then our living room, as we expanded her range to appease her slightly. She missed the neighbor dogs, who were rarely outside either. And basically, she just became a tyrant, chewing on hands, feet, peeing and pooping everywhere in the house, just being a passive aggressive dog. But today she is a little tamer, luckily. Still, I can't imagine what she is going to be like for Birgit if it rains the entire weekend.
***
I guess it is fitting that I say something about May Day somewhere other than in the title. So, um... I hope all my friends overseas that have the day off are enjoying it, getting their laundry done, and catching up on household chores, etc. I hope the immigrant strike/boycott works today. I just realized this weekend that there are three non-native US citizens in my nuclear family; so I really can't even question the fact that anti-immigrant people are assholes that hopefully accumulate massive amounts of bad karma for their activities. And I wish them all in-grown toenails. (Ha! Now that is violent protest.)
I should go check on my dog. I should grade. I should change clothes, as I'm dripping wet from hanging outside with the dog during a downpour. I should stop rambling about dumb shit or I won't have any readers by the time I post something from Brazil.
***
P.S. Hey Pisti, I haven't seen you on MSN. I hope you are doing well. We must chat soon!
Unless we're speaking about the World Cup. Yes, Brazil is going to take it this year. I have a feeling... the last time people were kicking the ball around for global supremacy, I was in France playing the bohemian who could care less about scores. (Meanwhile, I would sneak online at Manu's house and shuffle my fantasy baseball roster and check to see if the US had in fact only lost to Germany by one goal!) In 1998 I was in Romania when the national team defeated England to advance in the World Cup playoffs. There was a mini-riot! Istvan and I ducked down and fled the bar, as bottles started flying, people started honking, and people started chanting "fuck Hungary." Someone heard us speaking English briefly -- we weren't sure what was safer, Hungarian or English -- and pointed us out in the crowd shouting -- "Brits" in Romanian. We ran like hell. Explaining I was a Yank probably wouldn't do me much good. The World Cup before that one, 1994, I was in a pub in Kaposvar, Hungary, noticing the Bosnia troop buildup outside as the US started sending troops to Hungary to "train" for Bosnia. Sam and I sat in the pub with a bunch of Norwegian and Corsican women (or are they girls at the age of 18?) getting trashed and feeling real manly -- which isn't hard when there is a 30:2 female-to-male ratio in the foreign exchange program you are on. This time, though, I'm going to the epicenter of World Cup freneticism -- Brasil! I can't wait to see this... I just received a Germany World Cup 2006 t-shirt from my in-laws. It's pretty cool, actually. I'm tempted to wear it into a Brasilian pub to see what happens. I'll let you know.
Sports... spots... pots... ...stop.
***
I'm cranking Atmosphere right now. For the first time since 1991 and the early Public Enemy albums, rap is moving me again. I can't explain it. Is it a late-20s personal crisis? Is it because I never really stopped liking the concept, I just couldn't handle the bad hip hop that predominated throughout the 90s and early millennium? Is it because the economy has become so shitty again that I am drawn to radical, anti-establishment art? Is it because he is a local artist that is adored by hip hop afficionados around the world and dedicates his album to I-94 East? (Hell, the first person turning me onto the group was my French friend Julien. I don't know. But his lyrics are intense and very autobiographical. Not that bad gangsta stuff, fictional hubris that just gets more and more outrageous to sell albums to naive pre-pubescent teens. He has one song on his newest album, "You Can't Believe How Much Fun We're Having," called "Little Man," which moves me more than any song I've heard in years. The guy is so self-deprecating. I heard someone call him emo-hop, which disturbs me a bit, as I hate emo music. Still, whatever he is doing, it is incredible progress for rap as a whole, I would argue from my novice perspective.
Needless to say, Birgit is not diggin' my new music selection. In fact, she can't stand rap. My new annoying feature is to rap what I am saying or thinking to her. I am really bad at rapping. No, I'm horrific, but that is the fun of doing it. And it drives her nuts, so it is a good way to get negative attention. (Yes, I'm very Pavlovian.) I can only do it a couple of times before she hits her limit, though, and the attention I get from her turns into annoyance, bitterness, and if I go too far, a firm smack to the back of my head.
***
I'm off to Brasil? Holy cow, man! I started packing this weekend. I'm supposed to be grading right now. I have time. I don't feel like it. I'm too busy starting to salivate about the thought of hanging on the beach, wandering Rio for a week. I went and got a bunch of accessories for my trip this weekend. A pair of sunglasses -- I always break mine, and I'm just hoping these make it to Brazil before I accidentally sit on them -- shorts, a t-shirt, and a bunch of socks, as there isn't a washing machine there. (Here's a link to the city where my brother's house is.)
I'm charging my camera battery right now. I've renewed my library books. I've been reading a bunch of cartography books this past week, trying to get school reading in so I can concentrate on reading Shogun when I'm there. (I read it years ago and bought it again at Half Price Books recently, as I don't remember anything about the book except it was one of the best I've ever read.)
Birgit is getting a little nervous, and excited, about me leaving. The dog has become quite a bit of work recently. Definitely teething. Chewing on everything isn't the problem. It's when she gets moody because her teeth hurt and there is nothing you can do... that's when she becomes snippy and all you want to do is run away from her. And well... it is a two person job raising a dog. I'm sure you could do it alone, but Birgit is the working person among us. I just hope she doesn't lose it. I know I lost it this weekend. The dog was going stir crazy, because it has been pouring for three straight days, and we don't let her dig in the mud. She normally runs around the yard for a good hour or we play out there, etc. Not this weekend. She was going nuts chasing her stuffed pig around our kitchen -- and then our living room, as we expanded her range to appease her slightly. She missed the neighbor dogs, who were rarely outside either. And basically, she just became a tyrant, chewing on hands, feet, peeing and pooping everywhere in the house, just being a passive aggressive dog. But today she is a little tamer, luckily. Still, I can't imagine what she is going to be like for Birgit if it rains the entire weekend.
***
I guess it is fitting that I say something about May Day somewhere other than in the title. So, um... I hope all my friends overseas that have the day off are enjoying it, getting their laundry done, and catching up on household chores, etc. I hope the immigrant strike/boycott works today. I just realized this weekend that there are three non-native US citizens in my nuclear family; so I really can't even question the fact that anti-immigrant people are assholes that hopefully accumulate massive amounts of bad karma for their activities. And I wish them all in-grown toenails. (Ha! Now that is violent protest.)
I should go check on my dog. I should grade. I should change clothes, as I'm dripping wet from hanging outside with the dog during a downpour. I should stop rambling about dumb shit or I won't have any readers by the time I post something from Brazil.
***
P.S. Hey Pisti, I haven't seen you on MSN. I hope you are doing well. We must chat soon!
