ThatKidInTheCorner

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May 29, 2007

There's A Hole In My Heart Where My Couch Used To Be

Emergence Day 2 claims my couch, and convinces me that I need to move as soon as possible

So I had really really hoped I wouldn't be filing any more bedbug entries here on the bloggy-blog. After the debacle(s) of last fall, which claimed my bed, my bedding, my carpet, and a bunch of my clothes, and landed me on an air mattress for the better part of five months, I had hoped that the bedbugs thing was behind me. From November until May, it was.

And then we saw a solitary bedbug meandering across the back cushion of my couch on Friday.

(F***********************************ck.)

The malignant little jerks were back, and they'd colonized the one piece of furniture I had refused to throw away the first time around. Within half an hour, we'd located a small group of bedbugs (about 4-5 in total) in a pocket of one of the cushions. Forty minutes after that (following some complicated pushing, tugging, and minor damage to the paint on one of the doorways in my apartment), the couch was curbside, my latest offering to the Gods of Pacific Northwest Karma.

I'll be honest. This was a bit of a gutshot. Not just because it had been so long since I'd had a rumble with the bedbugs. It was more the immediate and drastic implications of the sighting:

(1) The couch had to go. I really resisted throwing it away the first time around, and had received assurances from multiple Terminix staffers that the couch was clean and I was safe keeping it. I didn't question their judgment because, well, I really didn't want to get rid of my couch. I liked this couch. It was the first piece of grown-up furniture I had bought when I moved out to C@L (I even picked up the matching chair, in which I'm now sitting). I spent a lot of time on that couch. So you can imagine I was more than a little crestfallen to have to let it go. (I know, I know: be more Zen. Possessions are fleeting; embrace the void; let go of these things. Yeah yeah yeah, but like I said, I really liked this couch).

(2) I was done with this apartment. Despite what my landlord has promised about Terminix and getting this fixed, and blah blah blah, I'm out of here. Have to. I should have left the first time around. I have some pretty good options at this point -- the only realy question is how soon I leave. Maybe by next weekend? That'd be nice.

So yeah, the bedbugs are back. This time they took my couch, and I can only hope that I can save my new bed (I like the bed more than the couch). I have all the protection I could find on the mattress -- I just hope it's enough. I've been doing my best OCD act on the bed since Friday; I'd be completely crushed if I lost it (and not just because it's a grand and change out the door).

In other news, I did Sasquatch again this past weekend out at the Gorge. Great times to be had there, and a nice (needed) change of pace after the bedbug thing. Really liked the Arcade Fire, but the coup of the whole weekend was the Beastie Boys "instrumental" show that essentially turned into them playing most of my favorite songs from Check Your Head and Ill Communication -- all in front of a smallish crowd on one of the satellite stages. Some great stuff there (video of Sabotage below):

Of course, it wasn't all Sabotage and Sure Shot at Sasquatch -- there were also sausages and my rude comments about the people who ate them:

Sigh.

Also, if you're interested in the couch (for research purposes), feel free to stop by and pick it up.

Buyer be very ware.

Posted by thatkid at 11:02 PM | Comments (0)

May 25, 2007

Springtime for ThatKid In Germany (And Paris): Three (3) Things About Munich (And Paris)

I mean, at the end of the day, it's all Western Europe, right...?

I knew something was up when I got off the plane from Dubai the other day and immediately felt like I was home again. (If that doesn't seem to make sense, I spent half a day in Munich before heading the Budapest for the weekend, and then another two days there at the beginning of the week.) Yes yes, I'm not remotely from Germany, and yes yes, it's a completely different culture, but, you know, it's still the developed world -- and one of the tidier representatives thereof at that! You can drink the water, things happen on time, and transactions are conducted in something approximating real currency.

I also think the fact that I'd spent a bit of time in Germany last summer had rendered the place a bit more familiar than it may have otherwise been. But I gottatellya, Germany felt very very comfortable. I was in Munich for a few days for work before heading on to Paris for the past two days. Munich was one of the cities in Germany that I hadn't yet visited. Lovely town. It's no Berlin, mind you, but it did the trick. And it didn't hurt that we had amazing weather and some excellent hospitality.

That at least balanced out the parts where I had to eat German food at multiple meals (for which my digestive tract is still bitter; but what can you do when your hosts plop an inch-think/ plate-sized slab of glorified liverwurst -- they called it "livercheese" --in front of you and demand that you eat/ enjoy it? Still, I did find my way into another Doner Kebab earlier in the week).

And then there was Paris. Oh hell yeah. Everything they say about Paris in the spring is 115% correct. It's an amazing city to start with, but spring really pushes it over the top. I could live in Paris. And I don't speak more than 27 words of French (though, in my defense, I do a really terrible job pronouncing them).

I was going to do separate entries for Munich and Paris, but it's been a long trip, and I spent the entire flight back to EWR working (boooo!), and the flight back to SEA dozing (needed). So you're getting a Western-Europe-though-they-kind-of-fought-in-a-big-war-pretty-recently mashup on ThatKid.

Three (3) things about Munich and Paris:

1. An alarming predilection for boring suburbs: so I work for this company, you probably heard of it, that very famously has its headquarters in the suburbs, so much so that folks around the world know the name of the heretofore sleepy farmtown that it's chosen to call home. Usually I like traveling to field offices because those office tend to be in actual cities in other countries -- you know, all civilized and cosmopolitan-like. Except in Germany.

In Germany, our office (which is gorgeous, mind you, and the Xboxes in the lobby not only work but also offer Guitar Hero on LCD screen) is in this ridiculously quiet suburb. There's nothing there except for other suburban office parks and a McDonald's. Also small tract housing and some bike paths. And we were staying a kilometer from the office. I dunno. A little sleepy for my tastes. Next time I'll know better.

2. Why Don't I Live In Paris?: I had never spent anything more than a blurry day or two in Paris, and I really didn't have a sense for how great a town it was. Yes yes, I know it sounds naive, but hey, I was naive. They've sure done a bang-up job with the buildings and culture there, huh? I felt like a complete goober walking around snapping photos for two days, but there was just so much good stuff there. If I had a single complaint, it would be the overwhleming scent of urine that permeated a solid 15 percent of the town (and, rather curiously, the interior of our office in one of the hallways). And I can't say that I didn't know where it was coming from, since I spotted no fewer than three dudes peeing in public in just under 48 hours in town. I guess humans enjoy the same rights as canines in France, and are empowered to piss wherever they like!

I might also reiterate that Paris, and Western Europe more generally, is just ridiculously expensive to Americans right now. The dollar is just getting crushed, and Paris isn't cheap to start with. The worst offense was the price of internet access at our hotel is Paris. If you were content with a fixed-wire connection, the price was 23 Euros for 24 hours. Gulp. That's about $31 at today's exchange rate. If you wanted wireless access, that's going to run you -- wait for it -- 35 Euros. That's right, about $47 in USD for 24 hours of wireless internet: roughly what I pay per month for web access at home. That's just vulgar profiteering from the hotel. BOOOOO.

3. Because I Can't Help It: dragged some coworkers to a restaurant/ bar for the Champions League Final on Wednesday night. I do have a fondness for watching the football abroad, and I was looking forward to catching the game in Paris. Ugh. If only the game wasn't such a disappointment. Talk about every stereotype about negative Italian football. With a collection of insanely gifted international superstars on the roster, Milan essentially decides to play counterattack football, which might have doomed them had they not scored on a completely sketchy deflection off miserably untalented cheater Pippo Inzaghi's arm at the end of the first half. After that, it was just hunker down and wait. Inzaghi was unbearable. All the sneaking around trying to scoot behind the defense, and the complete lack of initiative when he had the ball (essentially putting his hand into the defender's chest and waiting for the right moment to launch himself at the ground and commence writhing)...ugh. And then to have him score the winner -- unforgiveable. Just a horrible TV show as a result. For Liverpool, it was a shame that Gerrard just didn't have anything in his legs. He looked really tired out there. A shame, really. He had the chances, and he just didn't have the juice to finish them. I hope he gets some rest this summer.

And that's it.

Two weeks later, I'm back in C@L. My plants are looking great (thanks to anyone who helped out there!), and the sun is shining. My tallies for the trip:

Cities: Bangalore, Munich, Budapest, Paris.
Airports: Seatac, Amsterdam, Mumbai, Bangalore, Dubai, Munich, Budapest, Paris (CDG), Newark Liberty.
Airlines: Northwest, Jet, Air India, Emirates, Malev, Lufthansa, Air France, Continental.
Foreign Currencies: 4.
Doner Kebabs: 2.
Books consumed: 2.5 (got hung up in the middle of Guests of the Ayatollah near the end).
Food-bourne illnesses: 1.
Blog entries posted: 5 (including this one).
Photos posted: 119.
Videos posted: 2.

It's good to be home, though only briefly -- heading out to the Gorge tomorrow for Sasquatch (which we did last year as well). I hope they have Doner Kebab!

Posted by thatkid at 12:29 PM | Comments (0)

May 22, 2007

The Ballad Of The Whiskey Robber: Three (3) Things About Budapest

A charming weekend in one of Eastern Europe’s Grand Old Capitals

I was a bad traveler last weekend. I went to a lovely city (Budapest) in a cool country (Hungary) and did about three minutes of research (if that) before I arrived. I knew that Budapest was actually two (2) different cities, Buda and Pest, split down the middle by a river. I didn’t know what the river was called, though. (Turns out it was the Danube; more on that in a moment.) I knew that Ferenc Puskas was Hungarian, that he was totally sweet at soccer, and that he kicked ass on behalf of the all-time F.C. Camena imaginary video game soccer squad. Any sort of color I had on the city was from The Ballad Of The Whiskey Robber, which is the rather colorful tale of a bank robber/ hockey goalie/ folk hero named Attila Ambrus, who spent the post-Iron Curtain years getting drunk and emptying bank vaults throughout Budapest. Cool book, and it mostly convinced me that Budapest was a little rough around the edges, certainly in its post-Communist years. It also convinced me that this was a town that had a sense of humor about drunk people.

And that was pretty much it.

Things I didn’t know (but probably should have): they’ve got their own currency there in Hungary (called the Forint, with at least six denominations of notes, all predictably in the hundreds and thousands – that really never got easier to figger out), how to say hello and thank you in Hungarian (I usually can mange this much – I finally figured out “thank you” on the final night: “Kosono”), and any sort of history in re: the history and culture of the city/ country (shameful really; Wikipedia would have gotten me at least 75 percent of the way there). Like I said, I was a bad traveler.

So wasn’t I surprised to discover an absolutely classy/ gorgeous city (!). Wow. I suppose it helped that the weather was gorgeous, but I was blown away by how breathtaking the city was. Three (3) things about my weekend in Budapest:

1. I definitely picked the right hotel: the hotels in Budapest were pretty reasonably priced, so I decided to go for something on the nicer end of things. I stayed at the Hilton on top of the hill in the Castle complex in Buda. Wow. I had this killer view of the Danube from my room, and easy access to all sorts of good stuff. Additionally, I had the opportunity to look down on the Pest (pronounced, “Pessssht”) from on high. And, like any good resident of the Buda, I know how to look down on the Pest (“Pessssht”).

I might also add that I spent the better part of my childhood playing soccer for the Danubia Soccer Club in Northeast Philadelphia (rep-ruh-zent!), an offshoot of the local German cultural association/ club. For the record, this was the first time I had ever set eyes on the river that was the club’s namesake. Helluva river, that Danube. I’m glad to have played soccer on its behalf.

2. Europe’s Most Charming Visitors: our plan for Saturday afternoon was to check out the F.A. Cup final in a sports pub that had been recommended to us by the fellas in the Doner Kebab shop (see below for gratuitous photo of said Doner Kebab) at 6 am that morning. It was a big game with two high-profile teams (Man U and Chelsea), and we were all pretty fired up about it. Of course, we expected a crowd at the bar, but we figured it wouldn’t be too out of control.

Right. So the guys I was with have been doing a lot of traveling throughout Europe over the past couple months. Allow me to paraphrase: so no matter where you go in Europe these days, you can be sure to find roving packs of Brits. While of course we applaud their initiative in getting off the island for the weekend, they don’t always seem to, um, embrace the local culture. That is, upon landing in a new city, these packs of Brits pull on their track suit pants and golf shirts, locate the nearest pub with a Union Jack out front, and start ordering Guinnesses – it’s as though they’ve never left Brighton!

Our bar was full of these guys. For the most part, they were well-behaved, though occasionally they had moments of self-parodic awkwardness, typically involved a narrowly missed chance and a stream of barely comprehensible profanity (punctuated by frequent and fluent deployment of the c-word). Also, it was pretty funny when they ordered the super-sized portions of French fries…classy!

3. Party Time On The Sidewalk: speaking of dudes getting after it a bit, I got this great video of these older guys whooping it up on the sidewalk. Note that I originally thought that they were singing in Hungarian, before I was corrected by an anonymous commenter on YouTube. To be honest, I have no idea what they’re singing, but I do like the tune, and I was more than happy to capture a little moment of late-afternoon drunken camaraderie – the dancing is pretty tight as well:

In closing, I’d like to take back everything I may have intimated about Malev Hungarian Airlines. ‘Twas a lovely airline, and they were more than accommodating when I rolled in there on no sleep Sunday morning and drooled my way back to Munich. Malev Airlines, Kosono!

Posted by thatkid at 5:26 AM | Comments (1)

May 18, 2007

Fly Emirates!: Three (3) Things About Dubai International Airport

I haven't been this excited about an airplane ride since I was seven

Though I said I wouldn't be posting about layovers, we're going to have to make an exception -- Dubai International Airport was just too juicy. While there is only so much one can say about an airport, Dubai actually does merit some minor discussion. Mostly because DUBAI AIRPORT IS WHAT WE THOUGHT IT WAS. That is, as over-the-top and opulent as you can imagine an airport can be.

To shore up my nerd credentials, I'm reminded of the opening lines of The Long, Dark Tea Time of the Soul by Douglas Adams, which go something like this: "It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on earth has ever produced the expression 'as pretty as an airport.'" Maybe not, but this a pretty good-looking airport. I had hoped to get out of there and check out the town (take a cab into the city center for lunch or something), but they won't let you leave if your layover is under eight (8) hours, or some similar nonsense. BOOOO. So I was trapped in the concourse and business class lounge. Luckily, it was a lovely concourse and business class lounge (full bar, free high-end buffet, tons of food, comfy chairs, etc).

Three (3) things about the Dubai airport:

(1) It's sort of like Vegas, only with more duty-free and less oil money: right, so it’s a lovely airport they have there in Dubai. Shiny (REALLY SHINY), new, with all sorts of slick facilities and décor. The duty-free pavilion was, as one might have expected, a caricature of itself. Generally speaking, I’ve always imagined that the duty-free pavilions at major airports exist exclusively for (a) smokers, (b) alcoholics, and (c) oil billionaires whose insecurity demands that they purchase many luxury-branded products at the airport. So you can imagine what things are going to look like at Oil Billionaire Global HQ! My my! It was even crazier than the one at Heathrow (European HQ)! High roller that I am, I picked up a coffee mug (30 Dinars, however in the hell much that is) with “I’m crazy for Dubai!” emblazoned on the side. It was either that or an $8,000 watch.

(2) My most highly anticipated airplane trip since the age of seven: so it probably is mostly about the soccer thing, but I could not have been more excited about my chance to (finally) Fly Emirates (!). First Chelsea, now Arsenal…I’ll admit it, however much Emirates paid for the shirt branding, it worked on me. (I’m also fairly convinced that most of the denizens of F.C. Camena are burning with jealousy right now – so convinced am I of the exotic allure of Emirates Airlines!) Also, I had heard that Emirates was over-the-top with the in-flight service, which made sense, given the general rules in re: airline service (that is, quality of airline service is inversely proportional to a culture’s overall level of gender equality– yes yes, sad but true; Thai Airlines we’re looking in your direction). Right, so correct on all counts. It was a thrill to fly Emirates: the food was outstanding, the service completely obsequious, and they even used real china. Arsene Wenger would have been so pleased!

(3) Shockingly, this was one of those jerk countries that censors the Internet: so I’m sitting in the business class lounge trying to fire up my India post from that morning, and none of the photos are showing up on the page. Huh. That’s weird. Maybe there’s something screwy with the bandwidth in the lounge? So I click through to Flickr. Or not. Instead of my photos, I got an error message that very politely explained that Flickr was bad and would corrupt the values of this vulgar Vegas built on the backs on exploited workers from the developing world and financed by inherited oil money. Fair enough. Have it your way.

But while you might try to ban our Internet, it looks like you and your kids are going to eat our sh*tty poisoned food! Ha! Mmm, the McArabia meal…sounds like a treat. Eat up, b*tches! I hope you’re first against the wall when the revolution comes! (More Douglas Adams! Also, I don't have much patience for the web censorship stuff. Ooooh, I hope you don't chop off my mouse hand! Not sweet.)

In closing, I might mention in closing that I found my experience on my flight to Dubai that morning on Air India (in business class) to be akin to an overnight Greyhound bus trip to Detroit, only with incomprehensible Bollywood musicals playing on a grimy 21-inch monitor. I’m supposed to fly them again next week. Not happening. Not a chance.

And with that, time to head to the airport for my (gulp) Hungarian Airlines flight…wish me luck!

Posted by thatkid at 8:01 AM | Comments (0)

May 17, 2007

The World Is Flat: Three (3) Things About Bangalore

Globalization, multinational tech firms, and cows in the street

Let’s begin by admitting what we don’t know about India: everything. That is, we shall obviously struggle to say anything comprehensive or conclusive about a country that is home to one-sixth (1/6) of humanity based on three (3) days in one city (Bangalore) – with most of that time spent in a windowless conference room planning the details of an upcoming software implementation. Save for two hours of sightseeing I crammed into the end of my last day here, my time in Bangalore was the standard-issue mix of business travel vignettes that really could have been pasted into my memory from just about anywhere: the too-familiar business-traveler terrarium of airports, hotel rooms, cabs, and hotel restaurants.

Still, I’d be lying if I told you the visit was generic/ boring. It is India, after all, and Bangalore more specifically. Ever since I read The World Is Flat a couple years back, I’ve been pretty intrigued by Bangalore, the epicenter of outsourcing and the future of the globalized tech economy (I even used Bangalore in a post on how to properly update Charlie and The Chocolate Factory a few years back). I wanted to see what all the hubbub was about, savor the contrasts (old India versus new India, thanks to the Internet(s)), and soak up this little slice of our globalized future.

I can’t say I was disappointed. Three (3) things about Bangalore:

1. The tech thing is not overstated: when you hear that all these multinationals are setting up shop in Bangalore, it’s not a joke. In fact, not only are there tons of multinationals building out offices in Bangalore, but they’re all pretty much in the same office park. Admittedly, The World Is Flat comments on this as well, but it’s pretty hilarious to roll into the complex and see the who’s who list of global tech listed on the entrance gate: IBM, Microsoft, Yahoo, etc. We didn’t make it to Wipro HQ (they have their own compound), but the scale of the investment in Bangalore is impressive.

The overwhelming part is really the contrast (highlighted by the gigantic wall, above) between the gleaming office park and the surrounding area. Not that the surrounding area is so bad, mind you – it just looks like most of the rest of India looks. That is, in various stages of development. So that right down the street from the tech park you have random animals wandering the streets (more on that in a few paragraphs), folks cooking street food, and a broad variety of makeshift structures and residences.

I’m sure there are people who have complicated theories/ explanations of what I’m about to say, but Bangalore really struck me as a sort of big step function in development. That is, you have a place that’s skipping directly from developing world to globalized tech center – without pausing to do things like invest in infrastructure, enforce some sort of sanity on the roads, and get the people some nice clean water to drink. I’ll stop before I sound too insensitive (and I don’t mean to be, because the growth and development that is happening is so impressive), but it really leads you to wonder what it’s all going to look like ten years from now. And how the growth in a place like Bangalore might benefit the rest of India. Okay, I’ll stop now. (I really don’t know what I’m talking about.)

2. Bangalore is not exactly a tourist destination: though I spent most of my time in a conference room, I did make an effort to get out and see the town – albeit for two hours on my last day. The crazy thing was that we got most of it done in two hours. I hired a car (about $12.50 per hour) and had him drive me to all the destinations listed on the various tourism web sites. We saw it all, and I was back at my hotel in two hours time. This is mostly because “nothing was open” and “I only got out of the car once.”

Seriously. The driver took me to this castle (above), but we stayed in the car because they charge you if you get out and take a photo. There was even a soldier dude coming at us trying to stop me from taking a photo from the backseat. We also went to the Bull Temple (below), but hey, it wasn’t taking visitors either. Ditto with the parliament building.

The only place that was open was (wait for it)…the knick-knack shop! No kidding! You mean I can’t actually visit any of the sights, but I’ll get a chance to haggle over rugs and crappy little souvenir statuettes? Really? And get hassled by like fourteen different pushy salespeople? That sounds like a treat! Tell me more!

Still, you can’t get too down on Bangalore for not being set up for tourists. That’s not what it’s there for; it’s there to be a global technology hub (and I’m sure they’ll get the touristy stuff figured out soon enough). And that's really what I was excited to see.

3. Look before crossing: I was discussing a trip to Vietnam with a friend a few years back (said friend had also recently done a Vietnam trip), and the topic of traffic in the cities came up. So I started going on and on about how crazy the urban traffic was in Hanoi: the noise from the incessant honking, the seeming absence of any sort of order and/ or traffic rules, and the hideously dangerous mix of different vehicles, motorcycles, scooters, bicycles, and pedestrians that were sharing the same roads. And I distinctly remember him smiling and saying, “Well, you obviously haven’t been to India.”

No. No I had not.

Wow. The roads were complete chaos. I cannot believe I didn’t witness a multiple-fatality accident. Cheers to everyone who manages to navigate these roads without dying each day! I’m really just not that good a driver. If you put me behind the wheel, I can almost guarantee that I’d produce a Grand-Theft-Auto swath of destruction that would end only when they pried the steering wheel out of my cold, dead hands. (Of course, they drive on the wrong side of the road too – that wouldn’t help.) I am in awe of the skills these folks have – and the ability of everyone to so seamlessly share the road, like a big school of fish moving in formation.

And, of course, I can’t not mention the cows thing. That is, I had heard that there were random cows roaming the streets in India, and that no one really messed with them, even if they were in the middle of the road. Right. So I didn’t actually believe that. Now I believe it. There are definitely random cows roaming the streets in Bangalore, and no one really messes with them, even if they’re in the middle of the road.

All in all, it was a great visit, and I feel lucky I had a chance to see Bangalore at this point in history – it’s definitely a signature city for this decade on planet Earth. One more thing I have to mention: I can’t believe how polite, friendly and kind the people were. It was completely disarming. I kept expecting someone to scam me, but no, they just wanted to say hello. Great stuff – just a warm, friendly place.

Oh right, and one more thing – I thought I might get out of here without getting sick in my belly. Most people get sick in their belly when they visit India, but I was trying to be extra careful about what I ate and drank (no uncooked anything, don’t open your mouth in the shower, etc etc). And I was close. Very close. Oh so close! But no luck. Got sick last night. Sigh. It wasn’t too bad, though – all in all, I think I got off pretty easy (considering some of the stories I’d heard). And thus concludes the TMI portion of this post.

Hey, at least I didn't end up in the hospital.

Posted by thatkid at 2:37 AM | Comments (0)

May 12, 2007

Three (3) Things About The Next Two (2) Weeks

My content strategy for upcoming missions and international visits; now includes half-promises to write more frequently!

Aight.

My inability to maintain a regular content production schedule continues. After firing up a couple posts a couple weekends ago, I disappeared again. Sure, work's busy, and I went to New York for the weekend, but still. I need to try a little harder.

So here's the plan:

I'm on a(nother) work mission to distant locales for the next two weeks. My commitment for those two weeks is to produce three observations about each place that I visit. And by "visit" I mean spend 24 hours -- airports don't count, unless they're really really interesting. (I'm in the Amsterdam airport right now; it isn't terribly interesting.) At the very least, I'll do my best to put up some photos.

Sound bueno?

In the spirit of things, here are three (3) things about what I left behind in C@L:

(1) It figures that I leave the first week it's sunny: it was absolutely gorgeous in C@L this week. Ridiculous. I thought it was pretty nice in New York last weekend (what with it being warm but not yet humid and smelly), but we got our first taste of the summer in C@L this week. Wow. I don't mean to obsess too too much about the weather, BUT, it's kind of a big part of living in the greater Puget Sound area, and we take our sunny days pretty seriously. So of course the first week of sunshine means that I promptly leave the country. Sigh. Hopefully it'll be around when I return.

(2) What concerns me in my absence: speaking of spring, I got a little antsy about a month ago with the dreariness and decided to celebrate spring on my own. So I rolled up to Home Depot and bought some plants -- you know, new life, rebirth, renewal, all that. I needed a little spring at that point. So far I'm doing a pretty nice job (all three are still alive, and the basil seeds that I bought have turned into little plants(!)). I'm just hoping they don't die like the ones that got killed by my World Cup trip last summer. Friends in C@L: expect e-mails from me begging you to water my plants whilst I'm gone. Check.

(3) Okay, just one about Amsterdam: as a part of my long-term "Read all the non-biographical soccer books" project, I finally tore through Brilliant Orange: The Neurotic Genius Of Dutch Football on the flight to New York last week. So the deal with this book (that I've been trying to track down for years -- it wasn't published in the US) is that it tries to connect the particularly Dutch approach to soccer to some deep-seeded cultural roots in the Netherlands, including (ahem) Dutch architecture, painting, and the aftermath of WWII. Admittedly, I'm definitely not above over-the-top sports metaphors and explanations, but this one was a bit of a stretch. In its defense, I'll argue that it does remind me that Americans don't think enough about the various sporting cultures that produce teams and athletes, mostly because we tend to only pay attention to games we've invented. Anyhoo, you're welcome to my copy.

Off to gate E17 and the subcontinent. Did I mention I have no idea what time it is?

Oh, and before I forget, Happy Mother's Day, Mom.

Posted by thatkid at 11:24 PM | Comments (0)