He's got a force field and a flexible plan
He's got a date ewith fate in a black sedan
He plays fast forward just as long as he can
but he won't need a bed, he's a digital man
-Rush
Happy belated birthday to the honorable Kevin Tietjen, my brother, my friend, my bassist and my choice for the 2008 Democratic Presidential Nomination.Good luck dawg! Remember, if elected, I get to be the Minister of Alcohol, Drugs and Firearms.
The cleaning purge continues as Stuart is not here to fuck it up. But you don't care about that. It's time for another episode of....
Tales of Drunkeness and Cruelty
June 1
The Martian and I are in this little bar in Copenhagen. It looks like the parlor of a 1840's haunt in the wild west. The walls are padded and crimson colored. It's packed. The obligatory gorgeous blonde amazon woman behind the bar gets you another round.
This really blitzed guy keeps butting in and yelling over us. He's all by himself, talking to himself and sometimes us.
"Don't even acknowledge him," the Martian says, "..or he'll go on all night."The yokel started getting loud and Martin was getting aggravated, but the situation eventually solved itself when the bartenders convinced the dude it was time to go.
Now it's about one or two AM. We go to an after hour bars (they just jack the prices). "It's your round, mate" says the Martian.
Now the area is shaped like a rectangle. There's a table to the left (long side), two slot machines at the one short side, and the bar makes up the right long side. On the left side, there's two guys, one a bald stocky fat-ass who's built like a bull. He's got smoked glasses on. I go down to the end of the bar and order two Tuborgs (they drink it like water!). Bull Boy stands up and starts barking unintelligently at me. He may as well be a an orangutan, jumping up and down and grunting. Bizarre. Then I realize he's shouting in Danish.
"I don't understand. Speak English."
He jumps and grunts again, violently, and I catch "slot machine." I look at the one-armed bandit. I don't get it. And EVERYONE in Denmark speaks English.
The guy starts barking again and pointing towards the machine. Then he gets in face. I had enough.
I take a step into him and yell "Do I look like I fucking speak fuckish Danish to you?"
"Okay, " he says. "I'm playing that slot machine and you leaned on it."
I look at the machine and see the wheels spinning. They stop and then start again. He must have set it on automatic somehow. Lazy bastard. How was I to know he was playing it from across the way?
"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?"
"Okay."
"Okay." By now the Martian and seen what had happened and come over.Bull boy sat back down.
"What the fuck was the row about?"
I gave him his pint and explained.
"Lazy cunt," said the Martian. "Big fucker though. Nice one, barking him down like that."
"This doesn't happen when I'm not with you, Kelly (mostly)."
Swedish football fans
June 2
Well, it was a huge day for Euro 2008 qualifying, with rivals Denmark and Sweden playing each other. All over the city, in every park and every street corner, folks were drinking Tuborg by the case. It was insane. The game was right in Copenhagen at FC Copenhagen's stadium. We walked through the park beside the stadium about two hours before game time and it was bonkers. Red (Denmark) and Yellow (Sweden) everywhere. The Martian had a couple hundred Euro riding on the game ending in a draw.
We walked down to the canal area and had a few brews. Soon it was 8 o'clock and we found an Irish bar. We found a place to sit and soon realized it was all Swedish supporters who had driven over the bridge and through the tunnel to Copenhagen, about an hour's ride. Before we knew it, we had been adopted by a gaggle of beautiful Swedish women, who were just bonkers about football. I was popular because I was from NY and they all love to shop.
Say you're from the USA or DC and you get no real reaction, and maybe even a little disdain. Say you're from NYC and you're a rock star. I prefer the latter.
Sweeden got out to a 3-0 lead and the place was rocking. These women could drink! Crazy. And they were blonde and curvey- yoo hoo! And actually my age (a bit older actually - which is fine, perfect for the Martian). Unfortunately, they were all married.
Denmark made it 3-1 by half time and 3-2 in the second half. Somewhere in like the 75th minute Denmark scores to make it 3-3. The women are dejected. The Martian is freaking out that he has a chance to win 300 Euros. And then in the 89th minute, the Danish defender inexplicably punches the Swedish forward in the stomach, in the box. Sweden is awarded a penalty kick, the Martian has gone a lighter shade of pale, Anna Looo (Sounds like Dr. Seuss, but that was her name!) and the rest of the gals are going mental.
Before the ref can spot the ball an obliterated Denmark supporter runs out on the pitch and tries to attack the ref! The Danish defenders kick his ass and he is taken off, but the ref clears all of the players off the field. Ten minutes later, they announce that Sweden has won 3-0. It was an awful end to a great match. The Martian was out some serious cash and I was surrounded by Swedish women jumping up and down.
We exchanged e-mail addresses and they asked if I would show them around Madrid or NYC if they ever got there. Of course I said I would, if I was actually in either place at the time. Anna Looo then left the guy in the corner, who she said was her husband, without saying good-bye to him. Who knows what the scoop was, but they were a good time.
Sunday June 3
I had some great fried fish and we took a boat ride in the canals. It was beautiful. And then it was back to land - locked Madrid.
Expanding Horizons
Next Sunday I teach an all week intensive in Segovia Province. It should be nice digs. I could use a little pampering after all that's gone on with the flat. It will be from Sun to Friday. We'll see how it goes.
Kristen is going to spend July in Galicia, to the north. So I have to convince my landlord to let me pay him my share and live here alone or find a new place. I'm going to try to talk to his daughter. It makes sense to get the 425 E from me cause there's no one else lined up to rent it, plus you can't rent it with Stuart's room the way it is. We'll see. It'll work out.
What else? I have been devouring books on the Spanish Civil War for research for the new novel. Wow. It was fucking awful. Brother against brother, torture chambers in the Puerta del Sol, thousands of children of Republicans (some of whom's parents were communists) sent for "Re-education," - just horrifying stuff. And the nightmare went on long after the Civil War was over. For years, people were dragged out and killed in the middle of the night, just like Stalinist Russia. Well, it should work nicely into the new novel. It's almost flushed out. Time to take the deep plunge into writing a new one....
All else is good. Hot but not unbearable- yet. Should have AC next week in Segiovia. Woo hoo!
It's been a very emotional week: birthday, anniversary, but a good one. Everything changes. We are in a constant state of flux. Kinetic fuckers - always shifting and changing.
O brave new world, that has such people in it!
-Sheakespeare
Recent Playlist:
Rush: Snakes and Arrows
Phish: Billy Breathes
Nina Simone
Porcupine Tree: Fear of a blank Planet
Marillion: Somewhere Else
Velvet Underground and Nico
Suzanne Vega live at the Stephen Talkhouse
The Crimson Trio - vol 1: Featuring Ian Wallace- these guys do Crimson songs in a jazz style with drums piano and bass - Mind Boggling!
Truth- Jeff Beck
It's 9:05 and the sun's not down yet. The penalty box is a blinding prism of white light. I just had a pizza and need to hang some laundry.
I guess I'll see some of you in 6 or 7 weeks. I'm just waiting to hear from Deidre about Ireland. It will be good to see you all. I don't miss the US at all, just you people.
We expats are all fucked up. We just come to Madrid becuase it's less noticeable.
-Kristen
He's got a date ewith fate in a black sedan
He plays fast forward just as long as he can
but he won't need a bed, he's a digital man
-Rush
Happy belated birthday to the honorable Kevin Tietjen, my brother, my friend, my bassist and my choice for the 2008 Democratic Presidential Nomination.Good luck dawg! Remember, if elected, I get to be the Minister of Alcohol, Drugs and Firearms.
The cleaning purge continues as Stuart is not here to fuck it up. But you don't care about that. It's time for another episode of....
Tales of Drunkeness and Cruelty
June 1
The Martian and I are in this little bar in Copenhagen. It looks like the parlor of a 1840's haunt in the wild west. The walls are padded and crimson colored. It's packed. The obligatory gorgeous blonde amazon woman behind the bar gets you another round.
This really blitzed guy keeps butting in and yelling over us. He's all by himself, talking to himself and sometimes us.
"Don't even acknowledge him," the Martian says, "..or he'll go on all night."The yokel started getting loud and Martin was getting aggravated, but the situation eventually solved itself when the bartenders convinced the dude it was time to go.
Now it's about one or two AM. We go to an after hour bars (they just jack the prices). "It's your round, mate" says the Martian.
Now the area is shaped like a rectangle. There's a table to the left (long side), two slot machines at the one short side, and the bar makes up the right long side. On the left side, there's two guys, one a bald stocky fat-ass who's built like a bull. He's got smoked glasses on. I go down to the end of the bar and order two Tuborgs (they drink it like water!). Bull Boy stands up and starts barking unintelligently at me. He may as well be a an orangutan, jumping up and down and grunting. Bizarre. Then I realize he's shouting in Danish.
"I don't understand. Speak English."
He jumps and grunts again, violently, and I catch "slot machine." I look at the one-armed bandit. I don't get it. And EVERYONE in Denmark speaks English.
The guy starts barking again and pointing towards the machine. Then he gets in face. I had enough.
I take a step into him and yell "Do I look like I fucking speak fuckish Danish to you?"
"Okay, " he says. "I'm playing that slot machine and you leaned on it."
I look at the machine and see the wheels spinning. They stop and then start again. He must have set it on automatic somehow. Lazy bastard. How was I to know he was playing it from across the way?
"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?"
"Okay."
"Okay." By now the Martian and seen what had happened and come over.Bull boy sat back down.
"What the fuck was the row about?"
I gave him his pint and explained.
"Lazy cunt," said the Martian. "Big fucker though. Nice one, barking him down like that."
"This doesn't happen when I'm not with you, Kelly (mostly)."
Swedish football fans
June 2
Well, it was a huge day for Euro 2008 qualifying, with rivals Denmark and Sweden playing each other. All over the city, in every park and every street corner, folks were drinking Tuborg by the case. It was insane. The game was right in Copenhagen at FC Copenhagen's stadium. We walked through the park beside the stadium about two hours before game time and it was bonkers. Red (Denmark) and Yellow (Sweden) everywhere. The Martian had a couple hundred Euro riding on the game ending in a draw.
We walked down to the canal area and had a few brews. Soon it was 8 o'clock and we found an Irish bar. We found a place to sit and soon realized it was all Swedish supporters who had driven over the bridge and through the tunnel to Copenhagen, about an hour's ride. Before we knew it, we had been adopted by a gaggle of beautiful Swedish women, who were just bonkers about football. I was popular because I was from NY and they all love to shop.
Say you're from the USA or DC and you get no real reaction, and maybe even a little disdain. Say you're from NYC and you're a rock star. I prefer the latter.
Sweeden got out to a 3-0 lead and the place was rocking. These women could drink! Crazy. And they were blonde and curvey- yoo hoo! And actually my age (a bit older actually - which is fine, perfect for the Martian). Unfortunately, they were all married.
Denmark made it 3-1 by half time and 3-2 in the second half. Somewhere in like the 75th minute Denmark scores to make it 3-3. The women are dejected. The Martian is freaking out that he has a chance to win 300 Euros. And then in the 89th minute, the Danish defender inexplicably punches the Swedish forward in the stomach, in the box. Sweden is awarded a penalty kick, the Martian has gone a lighter shade of pale, Anna Looo (Sounds like Dr. Seuss, but that was her name!) and the rest of the gals are going mental.
Before the ref can spot the ball an obliterated Denmark supporter runs out on the pitch and tries to attack the ref! The Danish defenders kick his ass and he is taken off, but the ref clears all of the players off the field. Ten minutes later, they announce that Sweden has won 3-0. It was an awful end to a great match. The Martian was out some serious cash and I was surrounded by Swedish women jumping up and down.
We exchanged e-mail addresses and they asked if I would show them around Madrid or NYC if they ever got there. Of course I said I would, if I was actually in either place at the time. Anna Looo then left the guy in the corner, who she said was her husband, without saying good-bye to him. Who knows what the scoop was, but they were a good time.
Sunday June 3
I had some great fried fish and we took a boat ride in the canals. It was beautiful. And then it was back to land - locked Madrid.
Expanding Horizons
Next Sunday I teach an all week intensive in Segovia Province. It should be nice digs. I could use a little pampering after all that's gone on with the flat. It will be from Sun to Friday. We'll see how it goes.
Kristen is going to spend July in Galicia, to the north. So I have to convince my landlord to let me pay him my share and live here alone or find a new place. I'm going to try to talk to his daughter. It makes sense to get the 425 E from me cause there's no one else lined up to rent it, plus you can't rent it with Stuart's room the way it is. We'll see. It'll work out.
What else? I have been devouring books on the Spanish Civil War for research for the new novel. Wow. It was fucking awful. Brother against brother, torture chambers in the Puerta del Sol, thousands of children of Republicans (some of whom's parents were communists) sent for "Re-education," - just horrifying stuff. And the nightmare went on long after the Civil War was over. For years, people were dragged out and killed in the middle of the night, just like Stalinist Russia. Well, it should work nicely into the new novel. It's almost flushed out. Time to take the deep plunge into writing a new one....
All else is good. Hot but not unbearable- yet. Should have AC next week in Segiovia. Woo hoo!
It's been a very emotional week: birthday, anniversary, but a good one. Everything changes. We are in a constant state of flux. Kinetic fuckers - always shifting and changing.
O brave new world, that has such people in it!
-Sheakespeare
Recent Playlist:
Rush: Snakes and Arrows
Phish: Billy Breathes
Nina Simone
Porcupine Tree: Fear of a blank Planet
Marillion: Somewhere Else
Velvet Underground and Nico
Suzanne Vega live at the Stephen Talkhouse
The Crimson Trio - vol 1: Featuring Ian Wallace- these guys do Crimson songs in a jazz style with drums piano and bass - Mind Boggling!
Truth- Jeff Beck
It's 9:05 and the sun's not down yet. The penalty box is a blinding prism of white light. I just had a pizza and need to hang some laundry.
I guess I'll see some of you in 6 or 7 weeks. I'm just waiting to hear from Deidre about Ireland. It will be good to see you all. I don't miss the US at all, just you people.
We expats are all fucked up. We just come to Madrid becuase it's less noticeable.
-Kristen
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