Notes From Middleground

Things That Are Choice

2006-05-29T17:29:00.000-04:00

If you know Mike Landau, or just wish you did, here is his website/blog with some choice pictures. One problem, don't see any of me?!?! What's going on with that?

www.mikelandau.blogspot.com

...But, he's gay

2006-05-23T23:02:00.000-04:00

Too funny. Thanks to Andrew Sullivan and The Plank.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1Y6PchDYfw&eurl=

Reader Email

2006-05-18T18:13:00.000-04:00

This comes from an old high school friend named Meghan who was unable to post this as a comment. I graciously agreed to post it for her and will even include my reaction free of charge.

"So I watched this a while back and I think he was rude to go after the very people who invited him to speak (AP) although if he had gone up there and delivered a speech that wasn't humorous and didn't attack any of the political figures in the room with him, he would have been cowardly. As an entertainer, a satirist, he took advantage of the situation to poke fun at everyone. The video started out wonderfully and then lost it's creativity the moment after he falls on the White House lawn, trying to get away from Helen. The speech portion was pretty funny. Most of what he said was right. Any president who says things like "I'm the decider" should be publicly mocked and ridiculed (although Bush's painfully weak grasp of the English language is actually the least of his problems). I don't think I've ever seen Barbara Bush be so pissed off that she deliberately didn't acknowledge Colbert when he left. Yes, his speech was rude and amusing :-) " -Meghan

I don't think it was rude to go after the "very people who invited him to speak." They knew very well what his schtick was, and making fun of the people at the dinner is what comedians are supposed to do. Now, I can see why the audience was surprised into silence that Colbert would have the BALLS to mock the Decider while he sat a mere ten feet away. But that certainly doesn't make his speech any less funny. His satire was right on, perhaps we could all laugh more if our country wasn't being lead by such a pathetic group of people. -Brendan

I Too Support Steven Colbert

2006-05-02T16:21:00.000-04:00

For those who missed it, you can catch Steven Colbert's speech at the White House Correspondents dinner here. Judging by the blogosphere reaction, if you're at all liberal or have a sense of humor you'll find it hilarious. If you're conservative, you think he bombed. Judge for yourself.

A Productive Saturday Morning

2006-04-29T10:58:00.000-04:00

Here's a few things I never thought would happen. That I'd have work on Saturday. That I'd wake up four hours before work to get things done around the house. That I'd really want to clean up my room on a Saturday morning before work. But all of these things came true.

But I did more than that. I finished reading "Blindness," by Jose Saramago. I paid my bills. I organized by receipts. Having finished a first draft of a story yesterday, I got back to work on another story today. And I even did some quick emailing. A good morning for sure.

Now its off to work. I have a big day ahead of me. After the junior clinic, the Waldwick April-May Open will begin with me, Brendan Lynaugh, as director. Yesterday I was busy setting up. I made the draw, called the players with their start times, ordered the food, moved the big table in that will hold the food. So things should run smoothly, here's hoping.

Last night I saw "Thank You For Smoking." Its good, for a movie these days. Plenty of funny parts and the satire rings true. Tonight, a friend from Ohio is in town, here's hoping I get to meet up with him.

My Morning Manifesto

2006-04-27T10:35:00.000-04:00

Getting late into the month and what was once a cycle of the moon, now artificially means its time to dispense with my money for my needs. My roof requires a certain amount of money, for my vehicle which takes me to work so I can earn the money which allows me to pay for my vehicle. Well, I earn a little bit more which allows to pay for my cell phone which is simply needed this day and age and for my car insurance which by federal law is required to allow me to drive, so I can earn money so I can pay for health insurance incase something terrible happens I’ll be able to pay only a small amount of money and doctors can treat me and heal me and keep me healthy so I can continue earning money to pay them. That is what comes at the end of each month. And of course I take out a little bit for my fun money. So I can drink alcohol and laugh with my friends or a take a cute girl out for coffee or if I really like her perhaps even dinner, but then of course in this day and age she’ll often pay her own way, which I don’t mind, in fact I like it like that, not because I’m cheap, but because she’s her own person, doesn’t want to be treated like a blonde trophy to be place in my bedroom. I am a feminist. That’s my fun money, and I also put money aside for quarterly payments to my government, and even though I didn’t vote for most of the people that claim to represent me, I still feel it is good and right to give them approximately a quarter of what people pay me for my services, so that they can provide me with good roads, and good schools for my children when I have them and a ton of other things like spreading freedom and democracy and torturing enemy combatants and bombing villages that house terrorist training camps because we don’t want our planes hitting our own buildings. And that is what the end of the month means, and perhaps I’ll save up just a little bit of money for a new laptop, a better one than the one I am currently using so I can play music, and surf the web and send pictures to my friends, pictures of myself drinking alcohol and laughing and I can even write creatively on this new computer. Or, if I may be do bold, perhaps I’ll take a trip across an ocean, to another continent and see some sights. Meet some people that have a totally different perspective on the world and heck even speak another language, but luckily they speak English too. That is what I’d do if I had enough money left over after paying for all these services that I’m so grateful to do as I am a citizen and a human being.

Is That Really News?

2006-04-26T08:24:00.000-04:00

One of the news headlines on Yahoo this morning read, "Fox Host to Become White House Spokesman." Isn't that a bit like saying "Michael Jordan Named Great Basketball Player," or "Palestinians Planning to Bomb Israel?" I suppose all of these things could be reported as "news," but do they mark any sort of change?

Ok, to be fair, Tony Snow the Fox Host has been critical of the Bush adminstation. Its not like they hired Fred Barnes, but of course why pay Fred when he's already licking your a--hole for free. I'm sorry. That was inappropriate.

Movie Night In Glen Rock

2006-04-24T23:10:00.000-04:00

I stayed at Mom’s house last night because I didn’t want to spend an hour or more driving back into the city in the pouring rain only to have to wake up early to be back at the club by nine for my first lesson. Sean and Mom were both cooking last night, so I had a real treat; a multi course home cooked meal. I started off with Sean’s pasta and fake meat meatballs. Not bad, a good Primi. And then moved on to Mom’s delicious chicken with Indian spices, rice and veggies. Quite a treat… as I mentioned.

For the after dinner entertainment, I went with Sean and his girlfriend Sonia to Wes Coast Video to rent a movie. We took part in the time honored video rental tradition of walking around the new releases clockwise, each of us commenting on movies we’d like to see, as well as sarcastically suggesting movies that were really really bad. It was difficult though, we were all the way to the “T”s and still Sean hadn’t seen anything he liked. My earlier suggestions of “Good Night and Good Luck,” “The Squid and the Whale,” and “Brokeback Mountain,” met with little interest. But finally he saw “The Weatherman,” and while we all agreed that we had heard it was bad, we all remember thinking it could be good. Since, we weren’t going to agree on anything else, that’s what we chose.

It was bad. It had some funny parts, but wasn’t a very good movie. In the post game analysis, Sean and Sonia felt it would have better without Nicholas Cage, and I commented on how the storyline didn’t really mean anything. Satisfied, we said goodnight and went to bed.

The Zen of Writing and Tennis

2006-04-21T11:49:00.000-04:00

My morning free write is pasted below. Though it feels a bit indulgent, I wanted to share this one because it's an example of what I love most about writing. Before I started, I felt sluggish and tired, but quickly after the first few words were written the sentances began flowing out of me. I wrote so fast I couldn't possibly plan what was coming next. That is one joy of writing and I think the most pure joy as well. Its not the "joy of admiration" which comes when friends or strangers praise you. Its not the "joy of commerical success" which I have yet to experience. And its not the "joy of hard work paying off," when after weeks of writing and countless drafts you have something you are truly or proud of. All those are wonderful and good, but are not the "joy of the essence of writing." This essence of writing, high falutian as it sounds, is what should drive us. I find it in all my activities I am passionate towards. Take tennis. There are times when hitting the ball seems as natural as riding a bike. I'm not thinking about how to swing in a techincally perfect fashion, I'm not deciding what kind of strategy I should use. I'm not worried about going for too much and missing. Instead, a different side of my brain has taking over and I am simply letting my body go. This is when tennis is most glorious. At the net, when two players are exchanging volleys, sometimes the ball comes so fast that the racket moves without conscious thought as if by reflex. That's what I'm talking about. So, here is the free write.

Time is running out, so I must hurry. Must get to completion and make something of myself. That is the inner voice talking, but who listens. Brendan 2, the one who has to hit the forehand perfectly every time. Who listens, the one who holds that racket still after contact on the forehand volley. I am talking about different shots here, lest you get confused, oh patient reader. The time is coming when we will all find a service return that matches our personality. One that rifles down the line, barring even the lunging of a racket and after that allows cockiness to emerge in triumphant stride over to the other side to go through this dance again. Up the ball, slightly spinning then here it comes towards me flying through the air so fast and sure. I made up my mind to correct some errors. I made up my mind to play fast and loose with my heart and see what came of these decisions. For so long I have come and come again so close to the outer wall of my citadel and for every dream that has been forgotten another two will never have been dreamed at all and that is sad. So very sad don’t you think. What is most ironic, most iconic about our day to day activities? The simple jokes, the little pleasantries and over and over again we must come to make good on our demands for a better life and simple taking over of artistry and pain. Yes, that is the coming together so brightly of our futures and pasts together again like ripples on a lake in spring time. Ever so peaceful and only our hands grazing each other makes us think that anything could be like this.

Honey Nut Cheerios

2006-04-18T12:04:00.000-04:00

At Fairway last night a giant box of Honey Nut Cheerios was on sale and I couldn’t help myself. It was my favorite childhood cereal; somehow it had passed Mom’s strict no sugar cereal policy and made its way into our cupboard. But I hadn’t had it in years, due in part to my general blahness towards cereal, I had been preferring eggs or oatmeal for a while now, and more recently because of GoLean Crunch, a very healthy and satisfying meal which unlike most cereal did not leave me starving mere hours later. But this morning when I took my first bite I was back in Heaven. What a delightful cereal. It was like candy for breakfast.

Forever

2006-04-18T10:10:00.000-04:00

That seemed to be the theme of this mornings free write. I've pasted it below:

And forever and forever we went on, climbing higher and higher above the grape leaves and the tangle wood vines of playhouse safe in our granddads eye. The kitchen lookout center where Navajo tribes joined in clamor and battle and from everywhere came the galloping screams of bloody carcasses and is that a blonde scalp being carried proudly over our forests? The moonbeams touch down on the forest glade, and peaceful pervasiveness of yesterday survives us. What came before and what is coming now? No one can really see. I made off with a frightful amount of loot and everyday it seems more is coming our way. Forever and ever on this ride we will make junkies out of drug users and take all the credit for curing them.

Easter Weekend In DC

2006-04-17T10:45:00.000-04:00

As usual I hit some traffic early on during my trip. First the Parkway, and then the Turnpike were turned into Car parks to use the amusing British expression. But once I got out of New Jersey it was clear sailing all the way down to the District.

Friday night consisted of rooftop drinking. Since my host and another friend were observing Passover, the alcohol was a bit more upscale than usual. Now, don’t get the wrong idea, as a Gentile I was still able to enjoy a beer or two, and the mixed drinks were the very standard rum and coke or vodka tonic. But it was a great night. Lightning from the storm occasionally lit up the sky, and it didn’t rain too hard so we were able to enjoy the visual spectacle for most of the evening.

Saturday started off wonderfully as I convinced my college friends Dave and Dave to go to “The Diner” in Adams Morgan with me. We went last time I was down in DC and this time the hour wait wasn’t nearly so bad because the weather had much improved from February. Brunch was as delicious as ever. I crammed two pancakes, two eggs, two sausages and toast down my throat and was still ready for more. Dave Polansky, only half Jewish, spent much of brunch teasing Dave Donadio, a fully practicing Jewish person, that he should try some bacon and ham on toasted bread. Another conversation of note included Donadio and I arguing over the Iraq war, specifically whether to blame the Bush administration or the CIA for the WMD fiasco and whether having more troops on the ground would improve the situation. I won’t say who won per se, but boy that guy knows a lot. He’s certainly the nicest Republican I know, and one of the most informed.

After brunch, Donadio had to go work, so Polansky and I went for a walk and enjoyed the cherry blossoms. We stopped by the Smithsonian to see an exhibit by Hokusai, the artist of the “Great Wave.” Then, we met up with Mike Landau, a friend from high school who was engaged in game of croquet on the mall. We drank “Iced Tea” and “Water.” Croquet on the mall proved an amusing afternoon diversion and when the sun went down and we retreated to our homes for dinner. Polansky cooked his usual fabulous pasta and we chatted with his roommate and her friend, both of whom had worked in South Africa.

Saturday night was nothing too exciting. We pre-gamed at Beth’s new Adam’s Morgan apartment and then went to a couple bars in the area. We ate giant slices of pizza and got home late. Ho hum.

Sunday, after a quick brunch, I was on the road back to New York. Sorry, the weekend just wasn’t that exciting. I’ll try to do better next time.

Bed, Chair, Rug

2006-04-17T09:48:00.000-04:00

Another picture to help you get a sense of the layout of my room. (This is where the magic happens)

Desk, Bookshelf and Lamp

2006-04-17T09:47:00.000-04:00

Just to give a better sense of my room.

Above My Desk

2006-04-17T09:45:00.000-04:00

We have dogs drinking in a bar. An amusing poster from the Communist Musuem in Prague. The caption reads, "Pray we don't catch you at another museum." and a cheesy water color picture of the Charles Bridge and Old Town in Prague.

Wayne Chrebet and Day Bed

2006-04-17T09:41:00.000-04:00

Don't laugh. This is my well organized day bed. Lets take a closer look. On the upper left are my envelopes of various size and strength. Just below is my USPTA study manual. (I'll be taking the exam to become a certified Tennis Professional in May) In the lower right is a stray book, (ok, not so totally organized) Moving on, you can see my wallet, keys and cell phone. My retainer case, my dop kit, my alarm clock, old play bills and assorted magazines. Then we have an extra set of sheets in the upper right, a pile of change in the lower right, and good ol old spice there as well. You can also make out my radiator, won't be needing that for a while. And that, as they say, is that.

Wayne Chrebet

2006-04-17T09:40:00.000-04:00

This is Wayne Chrebet...my childhood hero

Backside of my Room

2006-04-17T09:38:00.000-04:00

On the lower right is my bed with my lovely Ralph Lauren sheets. Thanks Mom! And on the left is a poster of a "Repos de la Nuit" by Mucha a Czech artist.

One Corner of My Room

2006-04-17T09:33:00.000-04:00

On the left you can see the lovely poster of Kenyon College as described in my earlier post. Just to the right are my two condors wall hangings purchased in Cuzco, Peru. And below, you can wee my clothes hanger which doubles as towel rack.

Our House, In the Middle of the Street

2006-04-13T10:10:00.000-04:00

Our House. Well, actually Mom's house. That's where I'm blogging from this morning. Now, those readers that have been with me from beginning know this is where Notes was orginally published from and where the rejected title "Notes from my Mom's Couch" also originated.

But that's all in the past. I'm here today because last night Mom was kind enough to take me out to dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant (just like the Billy Joel song) "Rocca" in Glen Rock. Towards the end of dinner we had are semi annual "State of the Brendan address." I did quite well, my plans to teach tennis one more year while applying for MFA programs in both New York and out West pleased Mom immensely. But again, I've gotten off track. See, not only did I have dinner plans in New Jersey last night, but I also had a 7 A.M. service appointment for my beloved blue Toyota Camry. I sometimes call her Cam. So it seemed very wise to stay at Mom's last night rather than make the trek back to New York merely to go wake up in the morning and drive back to Jersey. As an added bonus I got have Passover Dessert at the Siegels and I must confess the Seven Layer Chocolate Matza cake was delicious.

By all this is mere lead up to what I wanted to write about. Which was all the really nice things about Mom's house that you only appreciate now that you live on your own. There are lots of them. Most are obvious: a fully stocked fridge, non stick pans, a full size kitchen, a dishwasher, washer and drier. But perhaps the most overlooked is the state of the TP. Honestly friends, this morning I felt like I was treating my **** crack to a Thermal Spa in Hungary. So soft, so full, so tender. I don't where Mom gets this TP, but it sure beats the hell out of my 99 cent rolls.

The Hungry Writer

2006-04-11T10:16:00.000-04:00

All morning I've felt a serious hunger, likely stemming from my small, meatless dinner last night. I thought a bowl of protein packed Kashi cereal would do the trick, but mere hours later there I was frying eggs and toasting bread. I even added cheese for extra "mmmmm!" And still the hunger remains. Haruki Murakami has an interesting story in his short story collection, "The Elephant Vanishes," entitled "The Second Bakery Attack." In this most unusual story, a husband and wife are so stricken with hunger than they hold up a local McDonald's and steal Big Macs.

My hunger isn't quite at that point and I'm also faced with a different sort of hunger. In between eating I wrote about 500 words of a new short story, which is my daily word goal and also revised earlier sections of the story. This usually satisfies my, wait for the super cliche, daily hunger for writing, but today, I feel I need to do more. But I got a little stuck on this particular story- I like it so far, but I need to figure out where its going, is it just a sad love story with some odd occurances? I feel there must be more to it than that, so I think I'll let a few friends take a look, take the reactions into account, sleep on it and get back on that story's horse tomorrow.

In the meantime, I still feel like writing, and while the feeling is not nearly as strong as my desire to eat more food, but it persists all the same. And I'm reminded of the beginning of the play "Inherit the Wind." When the reporter first arrives at the town where the Scopes Monkey trial will begin he is strongly encouraged to buy a hot dog and bible. He turns to the audience and asks, (and I paraphrase here) which is more hungry, my stomach or my soul?" I believe he buys a hot dog.

A Question Came Up

2006-04-09T23:19:00.000-04:00

Last night, on the cold walk to the subway, my companion and I found ourselves discussing existential literature and Camus was mentioned Which led us to an Indy Rock song that has a line about Camus. "I could dress in black and read Camus/ smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth." By sadly we were unable to figure out who wrote/sings this song. My friend claimed she would know if I would sing a few lines, but I'm be, so I politely declined. But, as I learned this night, the song was written by "the magnetic fields" and it's off their groundbreaking triple-album "69 love songs." This amused me a great deal. But what amused me even more was when I googled, "dress in black and read camus" I was directed to a few blogs who had already mentioned the song in a teen angsty sort of way. I guess that pretty much sums up the Notes.-much more than a day late, and not even close to being a dollar short.

A Very Good Tired Feeling

2006-04-09T23:11:00.000-04:00

I was anxious about being late for work, so despite a very late bedtime I was up at nine in the morning. I didn't really have anything to do. I was too tired to read or do some writing. So I aimlessly surfed the web until about ten when I drove to jersey, picked up breakfast and leisurely ate at the club. I taught from 12-6, which isn't nearly as tough as it sounds. Sundays are the older kids, so its usually very enjoyable to teach them and watch them play. I even got a work out in. A very difficult, thirty minute circuit training in which most of the exercised use some part of your core muscles and all are tennis specific. Then at six, my arms and legs still tired from the "core training" I hit for an hour with another teaching Pro, Tracy. For the first twenty minutes, the racket felt like it weighed five pounds (which is about 4 and half pound more than a racket should weigh for the tennis illiterate) So all in all a very fine day. Earned some daily bread, shared good laughs, helped some kids, and improved my conditioning and tennis game. No complaints here.

Great New Book

2006-04-08T20:25:00.000-04:00

Thanks to a recent book exchange I was able to initiate with a few friends who live nearby, I recently got my hands on some wonderful new novels and short stories. "Blindness," by Jose Saramago was first in the queue thanks lagely to a strong reconmendation by my good friend Daria Siegel. I'm about fifty pages in and really loving it. The style is unusual and takes a bit of getting used. For, although there is plenty of reported speech, quotations marks are never used. And partly because of this, many paragraphs run long, some going on for an entire page. I'm finding the book quite readable though, as it easible accomplishes my first benchmark for a novel- i want to find out what happens next.

Daria, a truly wonderful friend if there ever was one, also loaned me her digital camera so I could take pictures of my room and post them to the blog. (Pictures are coming soon) She has also been generous enough to feed me on the occasionally night I stop by her apartment in the late evening. Finally, she agreed to by me a two dollar beer even though she disputes the outcome of a bet we had over the timing of daylights savings. All in all she is a wonderful person, and I pray when she reads this she won't be too upset.

(Almost) Daily Free Write

2006-04-06T10:44:00.000-04:00

I felt like giving everyone a quick window into my life this Thursday morning. Here goes. I strive to write everday. Realistically, I write four or five days a week. What I write varies. I mostly try to work on short stories and that occasionally includes non fiction pieces as well. I also dabble in writing political opinion pieces form time to time. But before I start any genre of serious writing, I always take at least five minutes to warm up with a free write.

I first learned about free writing when I was seventeen and a student at the Young Writers At Kenyon summer workshop. (I've since worked as an RA at the program several summers.) Our teacher explained that free writing was a way to warm up, just like atheletes jog and stretch before the big game, so too should writers get their creative juices flowing before starting the serious work of writing a story. Basically, for five minutes, you write about whatever pops into your head whether it makes sense of not. The idea is to train yourself to write without overthinking and to just plain write. If you can't think of any to say, you still have to make your pen or in this modern age your keyboard move until you figure out something to say. In the meantime, writing "i can't think of anything to write," over and over again will suffice. Some writers like to use this time to write the beginnings of dialogues or character sketches, but I perfer very free flowing stream of consciousness writing. Its often very non sensical. But when I occasionally read over my free writes, I can usually find a few threads that reveal how my mind was working that morning. Back at the summer workshop, our leaders would occasionally ask us to share our free writes. The idea was to stop us from thinking that everything we write had to be "great". As a free write would oftentimes hardly make sense, much less be considered "great writing." So, for you dear readers, the next paragraph is my free write from this morning. Complete and uncensored. Make of it what you will.

Very unusual times my friend. Three, count them three, not so different, but all separate entities, because I do choose to look at the world that way. And I suppose choices must be made, let’s be clear, sometime you make choices, sometimes choices get made and you get swept away or pulled gently like an ocean tide moving you down the beach, far from your mom and dad. We played on beaches together in our shared dreams and mingled future memories produced lightness, aloofness and dancing under the starlight. We did wish upon a star and look where it brought us. All alone in this jungle of concrete and metal and fire hydrants painted yellow to meld in with the leaves that drop incandescent from the sky. I came out and found no where more appropriate than yesterday to eat all the food in the refrigerator. What else came of this? I have no wife egging me on. All motivation resides within? It must, would it really come from elsewhere and how far will we have to go to see the futures for the present? And right now, we came out from under the rock of Gibraltar and eagles diving for the guts of man’s gifter. We are now the children, tanned under the ferocious sun, our skin a lustrous pale shade, and nothing make sense anymore in this world.

Room Renovations

2006-04-04T16:36:00.000-04:00

When I stopped by Mom’s house to drop off the check for my cell phone and car insurance, I enlisted my brother to help me search for my old college posters. Buried deep within the bowels of his closet was giant pile of rolled up posters. We unearthed them together and chose a few to bring back to New York.

Last night was spent determining where these new pictures should be hung and today I finally put all but one of them up. On one wall, which is actually half a wall and half a permanently shut door to the living room I hung my old poster of former New York Jets Wide Receiver Wayne Chrebet.

Chrebet, at 5’10 and white went undrafted out of Hofstra and when he showed up at Jets open tryouts he had to plead with the security guard that he really was a football player. He made the team as the seventh wide receiver, but worked hard throughout the season and due to some injuries became the lone bright spot on a dismal 1-15 team. For most of his ten year career, he functioned as the third wide receiver, often brought in only on third down situations in which a 6 to 12 yard gain was needed. Although not as fast as most of the players he lined up against, he consistently found ways to get open and move the chains for the Jets.

Unfortunantly, he was repeatedly hit hard during his career and suffered upwards of eight to ten concussions. These forced his reluctant retirement from the NFL at the end of last season. He’ll be missed on Sunday afternoons, but he has a place on my wall as a reminder of a younger, simpler time.

In between my two giant windows, right above my desk and computer, I’ve placed two mementoes of Prague. Both are fairly cheesy. One is a picture of two cold war Russian soldiers holding binoculars and rifles. The caption reads, “Pray We Don’t Catch You At Another Museum.” I bought it at the Museum of Communism in Prague, which is very worthwhile, go see if you have the chance. The old TV footage of the student riots before the Velvet Revolution is really startling. The other picture is a drawing of the Charles Bridge I bought a few meters from the Charles Bridge during one of my last days in Prague.

Next to my bed, I placed a long poster of a Mucha painting entitled, “Repos de la Nuit.” Which, I’m fairly confidant translates to Repose at Night. It’s the fourth in a series of four painting depicting a young woman in various states. It is very pleasing to the eye.

On the wall closer to my bed I have hung up from left to right: A poster of the “Wanderer- by Caspar David Friedrich, a poster for Kenyon College my alma mater, and two tapestries I bought during my recent visit to Peru.

The Wanderer, or rather, the Wanderer Above a Sea of Fog is one my favorite paintings. I discovered Friedrich freshman year in Introduction to Modern European and American Art. The class was as long and sleep inducing as the name suggests, but it did expand my cultural horizons so to speak. Friedrich was a German Romantic painter who paintings often showed solitary figures against the backdrop of vast nature. “Monk By the Sea,” is another of my favorites. But, the poster store didn’t have it.

The Kenyon poster is another bit of cheese. It shows a few of Kenyon’s more majestic buildings rising out from beneath a field of corn. This is very accurate. The caption reads, “A jewel encased in corn fields.” That is hyperbole.

The tapestries which I bought from an old woman for a pittance look really neat. Both show condors in flight and I’ve arranged them so they are facing each other. I’m a bit proud of myself, if you hadn’t noticed.

The last poster, a picture of giant wave enveloping a lighthouse was actually given to me by a college girlfriend upon her graduation. I was a year younger, so she was kind enough to leave it for me, along with her fridge and possibly a microwave. If you are out there Kerry, thanks.

That’s a fair description of my room. I’ll try to take pictures soon to give you a better idea, but maybe if you’re lucky, perhaps you’ll figure out a way to see it in person.

Dad

2006-04-03T23:03:00.000-04:00

My dad died five and half years ago from cancer. When I was living in Prague, Mom sent me photo of Dad and me for my birthday. It must have been at least twenty years old.

In the photo, Dad and I are sitting in my granddad’s motorboat. I must say I look rather adorable in my blue and red striped shirt and white overalls. My hair looks very blonde, more blonde than I remember and one of my little hands is grasping the steering wheel which looks gigantic. Dad sits protectively facing me with one leg on either side of the bench; I fit nicely in between. Except for his dark brown hair, and slightly graying beard he looks very much like I do now.

People often tell me I look a lot like Dad, and Mom occasionally teases that my laconic nature drives her nuts. “It’s like Tom has come back to haunt me,” she said a few years after his death. We are very similar. Besides our build and appearance, we’re both lovers of books and sports, Irish poetry and passing the basketball, learning and teaching. But there are differences. Dad grew up working class, forcing him to earn everything he got. I grew up upper middle class with lots of benefits, but lacking his urgent drive to work hard.

Now, as I grow older, I see myself becoming more like Dad. I still watch sports for the pure enjoyment of seeing athletes of the highest level, but no longer have the time or the will to obsessively read everything about every team I follow. Dad was a runner his whole life, but rarely entered races. Now for the first time, I no longer compete in any organized sports, but find myself working out and playing tennis constantly. Along those lines, eating ice cream or brownies as a regular dessert has become a thing of the past. To my amazement, dessert has become a few scoops of low fat yogurt.

When I moved to New York, I dug out that old picture, framed it and set it up on my book shelf which sits a feet from my desk. So now when I procrastinate from my writing, or start to zone out mid paragraph, Dad is there to encourage me to work harder, not to waste the gifts I’ve been given. And best of all, on the good days, Dad’s always there looking down at me with a big smile on his face, just as proud as he was when I was three years old and pretending to drive a motor boat.

You Learn Something Everyday

2006-04-03T22:56:00.000-04:00

You really do learn something new everyday. Today, my tidbit of information came courtesy of a thrilling episode of Law and Order. A suspect, while being questioned, cracked, “I guess you can’t call it a paddy-wagon anymore can you. Political correctness and all.” Now, I’ve done what a paddy wagon is ever since I was a little kid, but only just then did I realize how it got its name. For the sake of clarity, let me quote the American Heritage online dictionary. “Paddy Wagon- Slang A van used by police for taking suspects into custody. Paddy- Offensive Slang Used as a disparaging term for a person, especially a man, of Irish birth or descent.” And there you have it. I had no idea.

Another lesson not so much learned as reaffirmed is it’s important to laugh at yourself for all the silly things you do. In the shower tonight, I plopped a medium sized glob of shampoo onto my hand, when I needed only a smidgen. I had clearly forgotten I had recently buzzed my hair. There wasn’t as much shampoo as had been needed last week when I had a full head of hair, I must have realized my mistake mid-plop, but still there was an excessive amount. ‘Eh’ what could I but smile and put way too much shampoo in my hair.

Brendan's Week in Review

2006-03-31T14:43:00.000-05:00

Overall, it was a very nice week. Lets go day-by-day and focus in on the highlights.

Monday- Is it a little sad that my highlight was an hour training session with a fellow Tennis Pro? I think maybe yes, maybe no. Either way I had a great time. Working hard, getting better at tennis, getting a great workout. The sweat, the camaraderie, I miss it, I do. I also taught a few lessons, which went well. A lot of my students are improving significantly, which as you might imagine is very rewarding. One of them in particular, Michael, has really started to hit the ball harder and more consistently. I feel almost as proud and satisfied seeing him play well, as I did when I was improving at tennis. Perhaps Coaching will be in my future.

Tuesday- Big day. My day off and I made the most of it. Well, perhaps not the “Most,” but I did get stuff done and took plenty of time to relax and enjoy myself. Lets start at the beginning shall we? Woke up early and over a tasty breakfast of strawberry yogurt and GoLean crunch I caught up on some emails. Then I stretched out on the couch and read a few short stories by Haruki Murakami. Interspersed between the stories were a few naps and resting of the eyes. Around noon I fixed myself a Tuna Melt- delicious as always. And then rolled up my sleeves and started on my taxes. An hour of so later, having made serious progress, I put on my running shoes and headed out to Central Park where I took a nice jog around the reservoir, taking time to check out the Central Park Tennis Courts where I discovered you can play for a mere 100 dollars a year. Still a bit out of my price range considering I can play for free in New Jersey at a few clubs and actual public courts.
After a quick shower I rushed off to meet my friend JP and his old freshman year RA Jodi at Island Burger for you guessed it- Burgers. Well, actually I had a chicken breast, same difference. After dinner we went to the Film Forum and saw “Beautiful City,” an Iranian film chosen by yours truly, which I think everyone enjoyed. I know I did, it was interesting and thought provoking to use two clichéd but accurate words. My only complaint was the lack of an ending. It seemed the writers wrote themselves into a hole and couldn’t figure out how to get out. Still, I heartily recommend the film.
Finally I stopped by my friends’ apartment on the way home for some lazy television watching. Thankfully the Daily Show came on at 11 to replace some silly reality TV show. It’s the one where they go all around the world- The Amazing Race I think.

Wednesday- Another solid day. Back to work, and as my first day back the day seemed to stretch on forever. Played tennis and got my butt kicked. It was my first day outside, which is my official excuse, and honestly an appropriate one. It was big adjustment playing with a bright sun and cracked hard court where the balls don’t bounce nicely like they do inside. Ralph, my friend and opponent played well, particular his serve was tough and my serve resembled a steaming pile of dog shit, so in any case an hour best forgotten.
After work I met a friend/ ex girlfriend; she’s probably somewhere in between those two for “coffee” which ended up being “fruit smoothies.” I had a great time; I think she did as well, so perhaps we’ll do it again soon.

Thursday- Big workday. 5 lessons. First, I had a group of ladies at 1pm, which is a piece of cake. And then from 4-8, I have four private lessons. All of them are good kids, and each lesson by itself isn’t too bad, but when they are back to back to back to back, it gets a bit tiring towards the end. But I had a big reward to look forward to- dinner at Mom’s with my Aunt and Uncle who were visiting from Chicago. It was a great meal. Tandori chicken compliments of Sean (my younger brother) Rice Pilaf and Cauliflower Curry by Mom and Aunt Nancy. And to top it off- a pair of succulent desserts from chosen with care by Uncle Bill and Aunt Nancy brought all the way from Evanston, Illinois.

Friday- And now its Friday. I’ve spent the morning preparing for the junior tournament I’ll be running tomorrow night. I’ve made up the draw sheets, both the little one I’ll carry around during the tourney, and the big one to be hung up at the club so the kiddies and their parents can see their names written on the big board. I also stopped by a Deli and ordered sandwiches, fruit salad, and cookies for the kids. Soon, I’ll be back at the club, I’ve got two clinics to help teach before heading back to the city for some drinking with good friends (hopefully)

And that was my week. Was it better than yours? Feel free to explain why or why not in email.

Affirmative Action, Atheism and Me

2006-03-25T11:44:00.000-05:00

Ridgewood High School, which I attended for four years between 96’ and 99’ made sure it properly promoted and celebrated the differences between its students. For the most part I feel this was a good thing. Whether it was the Asian festival, Black and Hispanic week, or Women in History I became well aware that there were many minority groups that had been oppressed by people like me- Rich, white and male. This was only reinforced further through college, both by the application process and the experience itself. I used to joke that despite the plethora of minorities in this country, I only qualified if you granted that being a member of every conceivable majority made one also a minority. There’s a Ben Folds song which summed up my feelings, “You don’t know what its like/ Being male, middle class and white.”
But now that might be changing. Although hidden behind a firewall, a NY Times column by John Tierney discusses a new, possibly illegal form of affirmative action: Currently, male applicants at Kenyon College, my alma mater, are being held to a lesser standard than their female counterparts. In order to keep some sort of balance between males and females, Kenyon admissions officers are allowing in less qualified males at the expense of qualified females. As Tierney points out, this serves no one. “It’s not fair to the girls who are rejected despite having high grades and test scores than the boys who get fat envelopes. It’s not fair to the boys, either, if they’re not ready to keep up with their classmates. Affirmative action just makes them prone to fail, and is probably one of the reasons that men are more likely than women to drop out of college.”
Who knew? I’m feeling less like part of the faceless majority by the minute. And then I read on Andrew Sullivan that I’m part of another minority, and this time it’s a persecuted one. Give up? Its Atheists; a group of which I am a proud member. If I may be allowed to get up on my high horse for a moment let me explain that I strive to be a person of high moral character. I try to treat other people as I would expect to be treated and give people that treat me badly the benefit of the doubt when warranted. Cheating, taking advantage of those weaker than you and any form of cruelty are all anathema to me. I believe firmly in all of this, and do so without the fear of God or hell, nor the carrot of heaven.
Now, I’m not trying to say I’m perfect and certainly not claiming that I’m perfect because I don’t believe in God. I have my faults and have done people bad turns from time to time, but the idea that a belief in God is a prerequisite to having a morally sound character angers me and seems the height of religious hypocrisy. It also seems to be the direction this country under the current Republican leadership is header. “Godless Tax Raisers,” was a joke by Will Ferrell when he parodied Bush, but I think is exactly the impression the Republicans would have this country believe. Tolerance is among the virtues of a true Christian. Let’s see if any prominent religious Republicans or Democrat for that matter will mention political support for Atheists.

Just soaking it all in

2006-03-24T12:28:00.000-05:00

Chris has captured the entrepid bunch of adventurers in a relaxing moment. We've just come down from exploring the dizzying heights of Ollataytambo. In a few hours we'll be getting on the train to Maccu Picchu.

Incan Modern Art

2006-03-24T12:19:00.000-05:00

Ok, I guess it's actually Incan Ancient Art. But look how the cut pieces of stone fit so naturally into the rocks. It reminds me of Andy Goldsworthy. Although I'm not the biggest fan of "modern" art. I like the idea of artist using nature to enhance their work. Or perhaps, its how they subtly change their work to enhance nature. Woah, I'm blowing my own mind. That or I have no idea what I'm talking about.

Brendan at Maccu Picchu

2006-03-24T12:17:00.000-05:00

I know, it looks a little fake. Like I photo shopped myself into a stock Maccu Picchu photo. But believe me, I'm not nearly tech savvy enough to pull that off. And I really did go to Peru, I swear.

This is Maccu Picchu

2006-03-24T12:16:00.000-05:00

Nuff' said.

After the Waterfall

2006-03-24T12:13:00.000-05:00

Here are Chris and I post swim. We've put our shirts on, so ladies please try to control your excitement ;)

Doesn't Chris have sharp teeth?

The Stone Couch

2006-03-24T12:08:00.000-05:00

From left to right we have Beth, Chris, Brendan and Gillian. As you can see we are reclining on our Incan stone couch. In a few minutes some of us will begin a steep ascent, while others will grow a bit bored waiting for us to come down. To be fair, we did say we'd be gone only a few minutes. But, the mountain kept going up, who were we to stop climbing?

Brendan After a Jungle Hike

2006-03-24T12:05:00.000-05:00

This is me after my jungle hike. I'm a fan of this picture and would like to make it my profile picture, but haven't quite figured out how to do that. I did discover how to put pictures on my blog, so here you have the first one. There may be more to come.

Bush Films Global Warming Commercial

2006-03-24T10:46:00.000-05:00

I saw this on Andrew Sullivan and laughed all the way through it. If you've got five minutes ready to spend giggling give it a click

http://www.transbuddha.com/mediaHolder.php?id=1147

Reader Email

2006-03-22T13:44:00.000-05:00

Chris, of cuzco and fulbright fame emails some corrections to my "3/12 Cusco, Peru (1:05 PM) " post.

And to be fair, there is a cafe culture in Lima, but I'd like to point that a
cafe culture is dependent on people having the diposable income/time to spend in
a cafe when they could be feeding their family instead.That and the beer is
called "Cusqueña." Cerveza is just Spanish for beer.

Now, I would like to point out the cleary a cafe culture is dependent on disposable income as well as a desire to spend that income on overpriced coffee instead of other goods. The fact that Peruvians in Cusco either do nothave disposable income, or perfer to spend it on other luxories is simply part of the small point I was making through my observations. And yes, apparently, the beer is called "Cusquena," my bad. BUt I've made far worse blunders, my most common error is called Spain "Espanol." That spanish in Spanish.

Peru Journal Epilogue

2006-03-21T15:53:00.000-05:00

That was the final entry. So I try to tie up a few loose ends. First, we took the bus to Pisak, which has a Sunday market. We all bought lots of fun stuff. I got a big, goofy, Latin America explorer hat, two little bowls, and some little llamas. Chris, Gillian and Beth bought lots of other stuff- necklaces, rings, and coloring powder. It was really an amazing place, so much great stuff.
After getting back I started feeling pretty bad, and by the time dinner rolled around I was in low spirits. My appetite was gone; I barely even touched Beth’s delicious pasta with peanut sauce and then spent a sleepless night running to the bathroom. I woke feeling incredibly thirsty, but just sat around during the day, praying I’d feel a bit better by the time I had to fly out.
I did end up feeling a bit better, and made it back to JFK in one piece. Beth and I had to endure a 6 hour lay over in the Lima airport, and then after landing at 7:30 in the morning at JFK it took almost an hour for our bags to come. After a quick hug, she was off to LaGuardia to catch a flight to DC, and I took a bus to Manhattan en route to New Jersey.
Sometimes getting there is half the fun, and while Beth and I did share some laughs in the airport and on the place, that 18 hour travel day was no fun at all. Ugg.

3/12 Cusco, Peru (1:05 PM)

2006-03-21T15:52:00.000-05:00

At the bus station, oh boy, feeling tired and out of it from the night before. But, oh what a night. Dinner at a fabulous restaurant, “ciccolin” all the food was superb. Seafood appetizers, mushrooms and a beef fillet for me. Three bottles of wine later we were all doing well. We even had a polite, respectful and vigorous political discussion about the Danish cartoons, I finally got to use weeks of knowledge accrued from Andrew Sullivan. After dinner it was off to a Peruvian bar where we a delicious corn beer type drink. It was called beer of a forty ingredients or something like that, and the best part was how dirt cheap a pitcher was. Then it was off to the clubs and well, we know how that turned out. Good times.

3/11 Cuzco, Peru (3:50 PM)

2006-03-21T15:51:00.000-05:00

I’m sitting in a cafe (Pucara) named after an indigenous culture with Chris. We’ve been here for at least two hours, we hap soup. I had Creole (noodles, milk, beef, and spinach) very tasty; Chris had a garlic soup that contained a poached egg. We had a great talk, man talk- covering our families, relationships with our dads, a little politics, a little living abroad and some talk of the future.

This has really been a great day. We started with breakfast, then Chris gave me a mini tour of the city and e explored the Ccoricancha- a convent of Santa Domingo. It was neat because you could see both the original Incan foundations- it was first a temple to the sun- most important in all the Incan lands- and then with the Spanish colonists, a convent was built right over it. Thanks to the 1950’s earthquake and then decision to restore the Incan walls you can see both.
There was also an interesting art exhibition. It looked like Peruvian new Yorker covers. Though it, I got a whirlwind modern Peru history lesson as Chris translated and often explained what was going on in the photos. Though with my Latin was able to pick out a few words here and there. Then we continued our walk though town. I saw the big market- lots of meat- it’s where cuscoyans shop and then I did a little souvenir shopping for myself- and got a tee-shirt for me and my bro.

Yesterday was machu piccu- when I left of we were just about to enter. Well, we did finally go in and boy was it ever something. Quite simply it was worth it worth every cent it cost to fly here; I would have paid so much more. I cold have spent days, weeks just sitting and absorbing the views or gone off exploring the ruins or temples and houses.

Chris did a bang up job as tour guide. He could easily be a very good and well paid guide.
First we hiked up a path and reached, I guess you could call it a look out point, where you could see not only the ruins, but the huge mountain peaks that surround it. As Beth remarked, “Can you imagine waking up here each morning?” Sadly, Beth’s ankle was really hurting her, so she had to imagine staying in one centrally located place for much of the day. She demanded we go off and explore though, so Chris, Gillian and I went off and Chris, happy as a clam, explained and gave significance to every stone. At one point, mid tour, we all just sat and chilled on one of the Incan terraces. Words seemed fairly useless at this point to convey the awesome sense of serenity and tiny spec in the universeness I felt at that moment. I could have sat there with good friends all day long.
And in general the whole visit was just too impressive, to think a city full of living, bustling people, just incredible.

After taking the bus back down, we had lunch and noticed just how sunburned we all were. Post lunch we split- Anna and Kenneth went on a search and ended up sipping rum and cokes. Beth and Gill thought about shopping, but just sat and relaxed on a bench. And Chris and I went in search of a waterfall, but first found only a steep jungle trail.
See, we had gone off on Gillian’s recommendation to find this waterfall located behind the hot springs. So we snuck back, and took a right on the first path we saw. This path quickly turned into a steep incline and the jungleness reminded us of the first Predator movie. After climbing a good twenty minutes, we turned around and came back down, fully drenched in sweat but feeling proud. Then, we noticed another path and thirty seconds later the waterfall was in sight. Minutes later we had arrived, stripped down to our skivvies and gingerly went in. Cold, but very refreshing, and we let loose with primal screams which echoed against the backdrop of the pounding water from the falls. Chris declared it the best part of the day- to be fair he’d been to maccu picchu five times before.

We then went to catch our train, but stopped to have a beer with Anna and Kenneth. They were playing a spirited game of twenty questions- Kenneth was stumped. (Anna, who was the actor?) The train was hot and stuffy and the bus we connected to was not only hot and stuffy but also dark so as to preclude any reading. The shower I quickly took upon returning to Chris’s apt was beyond wonderful. We had dinner, watched Capote, though I fell asleep towards the end. We were supposed to go white water rafting the next day, but Chris and I were too tired and decided not to go. I know, meow* Beth had to complete a project for work, so Gillian dragged her Peruvian boyfriend

And now, here we are, Chris and I, at the café. The woman who served us must think us very strange, that we just sit here, firs talking, now reading and writing- a café culture hasn’t quite made it here yet.

3/10 Maccu Picchu, Peru (8:30 AM)

2006-03-21T15:50:00.000-05:00

It’s early; we’re tired, and we’re taking a coffee/breakfast break right before we get to see the ruins. Maccu Picchu is literally yards away and we’re just waiting here. Clearly, I would like to be there right now, but this is what happens when you travel in a group. This is an amazing place to have breakfast though, the mountains really do rise above the clouds, tons of backpackers are sitting around, and most of them speak English.

Last night was a good night- Pizza and beer at long last. Then drinking games at the bar. It was a tough morning and my stomach wasn’t too pleased, but fun is fun, hard to pass it up. Man it's really taking forever to get the food. We could be seeing maccu picchu right now. Oy lets go

3/9 Ollantaytambo, Peru (7:45 PM)

2006-03-21T15:45:00.000-05:00

The four of us- Gillian, Beth (Liz), Chris and I are sitting on a train waiting for it to start towards Machu Picchu. We’re a bit crammed into these seats, legs are crossed and heads rest on shoulders. A river is flowing by and gives us a soft background noise to the constant chatter in several languages that fills the carriage.

A British or at least non-American English speaking group has decided to play a game- one member of their group has to go around the train carriage taking pictures of five different people.

Today was a big day. Chris and I woke up a bit hung over, him more than me. We grabbed a taxi to Gillian’s, picked up pastries for breakfast and ate them at Gill’s apt. Then, as Gillian cleaned, Beth, Chris and I bought white water rafting tickets. During our walk through Cusco, Chris began an informal, but informative and entertaining tour of the city. We learned about the early years of the Spanish occupation and how the Incans at one point fled to a mountain fortress where they rained fiery hell down on the city. To be continued he said.

We had a taxi drive us to Chinchero, a small village in the Sacred Valley just outside of Cusco. We saw an absolutely beautiful church, bought exquisite Peruvian clothes and tapestries while our taxi waited for us.

We were then driven to Ollantaytambo- had a delicious buffet lunch. I tried kidney and an authentic dessert- rice pudding mixed with purplish jello apparently made from corn. After lunch we arrived at the ruins of Ollantaytambo where we were able to explore the ruins. Chris played tour guide and did a bang up job. At the entrance to the ruins we ran into Kenneth and Anna, (Beth’s G-town friends) who had just taken a tour. We climbed really high, Kenneth, Gillian and I going all the way to the top and were rewarded with these incredible views.

****the next few sentences, while unrelated to the previous one get a bit personal****

Yesterday was a big day too. First we bought train tickets to Maccu Picchu, the very train we are riding now, and then we took a taxi to a small town that was holding a Maize/ Corn festival. The ride to the town was its own reward. First we drive up and out of the valley of Cusco, and then across spectacular mountains before descending into another valley that has this town. At the town everyone is cooking, we stopped at one tent and had a plate of huge corn, stuffed fried pepper, and a potato for about fifty cents. Best, most authentic meal I’ve had since I don’t know when. Then the villagers began to reenact an old Ceremony to honor the Gods. There was a Sun God, a Moon Goddess, people praising corn. They were speaking in an original tongue, not Spanish, so none of us could understand. It was funny, as we were the only white people (Gringos) there; they stared at us as much as we stared at them. The mutual gawking seemed only fair. We ended the afternoon with a spirited game of Foosball, Chris and I emerged victorious 3-2.

A taxi brought us home, a quick shower and it was off to dinner. The big joke is whether we’ll have Cuy (Guinea pig) while here.

After dinner we had a few drinks at a bar. Nothing too exciting, just some good joke telling and Beth and I rehearsing our big fake break up on the flight home. (I should clarify, our "break up" is fake not because we aren’t actually breaking up, but because we aren’t romantically involved in the first place. We are simply good friends who travel together) Oh, and Gillian's Peruvian boy Dennis came along. He seemed like a nice fellow, he doesn’t speak English, but was very friendly and seemed to like Gillian a lot.

All right, hopefully we’ll get to Maccu Picchu soon, do some drinking and get up early for the ruins. Caio!

3/8 Cusco, Peru (9:15 AM)

2006-03-21T15:44:00.000-05:00

My second day in Peru and at altitude and I think I’m feeling better. A good night’s sleep coupled with lots of water has me feeling ready to go.

Well, it was a small adventure meeting up with Chris at the airport- but no harm, no foul as we met up well ahead of our flight from Lima to Cusco. Chris was looking well, full beard and ready smile. As we waited for our flight we caught up on all sorts of things; women, life goals, etc.

The flight was quick, just over an hour, and when we landed in Cusco- this wonderful little city in a valley, Gillian and a friend were there to greet us. Hugs all around, then the guys and girls took separate cabs to their respective apartments. We had a quick nap, and then walked about 10 minutes to the Gillian’s apartment. Apparently lots of drama, girls breaking up with Peruvian boyfriends literally seconds before we arrived. As you might imagine the aftermath was tedious and annoying, but what can you do.

Lunch was wonderful- I had a tuna melt, very authentic I know- but it was very tasty. Two of Liz’s Georgetown friends met up with us at Jack’s, a very popular lunch spot for tourists and ex-pats. After lunch we ran into a llama while walking up around Cuzco. We took a few pictures and when the llama stood up Gillian almost fell on her face. Very funny.

Next up we had come coca tea- yes the same leaves that cocaine is made from. The tea is very good- although I’m told this particular tea is the best in town- it was green, very sweet and apparently has many healing properties such as aiding in altitude sickness and fatigue. Also, it has many minerals that do good stuff. So yeah, the tea was lovely and I did feel a bit buzzed afterwards.

After tea, we naturally made our way to El Molino, the biggest black market in Cusco. There an orgy of spending commenced. First at a bootleg CD store it was hard not to when each CD cost a bit more than a dollar. I, spendthrift Brendan, purchased 5 CDs- for about ten dollars, some were doubles.

Chris and Gillian also bought some DVD’s before we made it back to Gillian’s for movie time. We watched the “Swimming Pool” which I liked but had already seen. No matter, I napped through the second part.

After the movie we tried to figure out dinner and learned that Liz wasn’t feeling well at all. Right before she left she tossed her cookies, not good. (Sorry Liz L )
Dinner was quite nice, but sad as Liz couldn’t be there. I had chicken and veggies skewered with a peanut sauce and mango chutney. Ah yes, Chris is telling me they were called Chicken brochettes or Anti-chicken. I also had my first taste of Peruvian beer. Cerveza, not bad at all. Chris had prepped me for the worst, but I quite enjoyed it. I mean, it doesn’t hold a candle to Czech beer or really any good European or American micro brew, but I still forecast myself consuming many more this week.

So yeah, then a cab back to Heaney’s- I feel rich being able to take a cab anywhere, even when walking is certainly possible. But it’s just so cheap that you might as well. Chris and I shared a rather small bed, but we got through it ok- no harm, minimal touching, no foul.
So what are my initial impressions of Cusco? Well, it is dirty, it’s shabby, and it’s hard to feel clean. There is poverty, many beggars, and people look downtrodden. Everything is smaller. I have to duck to enter just about every door. But enough of the negatives.
They kept some of the Incan walls and built atop them. Most buildings have an atrium of sorts that you enter upon walking in. And at night, the sky is filled with stars.
And a nice bonus is how cheap everything is. Three Soles is the standard price- a beer, a taxi ride at night, a CD. A dollar goes farther than it used to down here. All right is getting to be ten o ‘clock- time to get moving. We’ve got a corn festival to attend, and train tickets to buy. Let the adventures begin.

3/7 Lima, Peru (7:10 AM)

2006-03-21T15:43:00.000-05:00

I’m sitting in a food court at the airport in Lima, Peru watching our bags as Liz uses the facilities. Airports never really look all that different from one another. All the familiar fast food restaurants are here: Dunkin Donuts, Papa Johns, and McDonalds. There appear to be a few tables of American college students. Liz just stopped back- now she is off to change money. The flight wasn’t too bad- a little cramped and I sweated while asleep and woke up super thirsty- never fun. But we saw a fun movie together, rather sappy, but still romantic and sweet. (Just Like Heaven) There was some turbulence- one thunder storm woke us up as the heavy winds made the plane drop suddenly a few times and then the constant flashes of light were a bit unnerving as we knew the Andes were below us.

Just a few thoughts of GirlX- it could have been so great to travel with her. This is going to be a great trip, but it with her it could have been better.

3/6 JFK NY,NY (7:45 PM)

2006-03-21T15:42:00.000-05:00

Here I am. Sitting on my pack like a real traveler while waiting for Liz. The terminal is huge and everything seems to be moving along smoothly. I’m always amazed at the constant flow of people through airports to all parts of the world. It is a small world.

My thoughts go back to my last time abroad. A year and a half have passed since then and needless to say much has changed- real love, real heartache, modest professional success coming after so much doubt and frustration, and finally a real sense of where I’m going with life.

This is a short trip- a mere week, but in this condensed time frame I’ll have time for so much. Machu Picchu, ruins, museums, restaurants, nightlife. When I wake up and get off the plane I’ll be on the other side of the world- in Peru.

Almost eight o’clock and still no Liz. Without my cell phone I feel almost powerless. Backpackers just walked past. I wonder if they are now just starting their trip or flying home. They look American, but you never know for sure. I was a pack of nerves the first time I left the country- all alone, a baby at 22- wow to be that young again. One can’t help but think you’d it better if you had a second go around. I’m going to wait outside, she should be here soon.

Peru Journal

2006-03-21T15:40:00.000-05:00

Peru Journal-

This is a transcript of my journal I kept while traveling in Peru. I’ve been as faithful to the original as possible, keeping many sentences as fragments and my authentic, grammatically odd sentence constructions. The entries have been spell checked, and occasionally I re-wrote a sentence to make it clearer or more concise. I’ve also eliminated a few lines because of their personal nature. I hope you enjoy and please email any questions or comments.

Cheers, Brendan

V-Day

2006-02-15T09:39:00.000-05:00

As regular readers of this blog are doubtless aware, Tuesday is my usual day off and yesterday started off as a day off. Ambitiously, I awoke in the pre dawn hours, threw on my ski clothes and drove two hours north to get to Hunter Mountain just as it opened. Despite the incredible amounts of snow that had fallen here in the city, Hunter only got 3-4 inches according to friendly fellow skier who I took the chair lift with me. Still, the additional snow made the conditions much better than last week, although there was a bit too much ice for the conditions to be described as “great.”

So there I was, having moved to the West side of the mountain to try my luck on the double blacks when my cell phone rang, then rang again. Mildly worried, I checked my messages to discover one of my fellow teaching pros had broken his pinkie last night playing tennis. Yes, you read that sentence correctly. While hitting a two handed backhand, his left pinkie had caught his pant’s pocket which had been stuffed with balls and that was all she wrote.

Me, being the dutiful tennis Pro, and in need of some brownie points at the club, skied down the mountain one last time before hopping in the my car and driving South towards Waldwick, stopping once for a Super Roast Beef sandwich from Arbys and Curly Fries of course, both of which were just as delicious as I remember from my college days, though a bit more expansive.

Now, I hadn’t brought any of my tennis stuff with me, it was day off after all and I was skiing, so I had to steal (borrow) some work out clothes from my brother, (Ridgewood Ice Hockey Warm up pants and a UVM Sweatshirt, and then trade shoes with the injured tennis pro. I got his tennis shoes; he got my boots to wear home. The club desk workers, who occasionally double as our “work moms” thought the switching of the shoes was one part adorable, one part gross.

So, I taught his lessons for the rest of the day, 2:30 to 8. The junior clinic on Tuesday is the same as Wednesday and a piece of cake for the most part, with the exception being a few “special kids,” well mostly just one, who is parents must be grateful for the opportunity to drop on us for an hour and a half a week. But teaching someone else’s privates is always a challenge. Sometimes it’s great, if the kid knows what he wants and knows me enough to trust me to give him or her good advice. But if the kid is accustomed to another Pro giving advice, then I have to tread a thin line between trying to help the kid with his strokes, and giving potentially conflicting advice from the kid’s usual Pro. As for yesterday, one lesson went very well, the kid was hitting better by the end, and other, well, although I thought she was hitting better by the end she didn’t seem to notice or care, and was extremely frustrated. So it’s a mixed bag.

Anyway, that was my Valentines Day. One funny thing, not being in college anymore, I wasn’t deluged by V-Day (read Vagina Day) protests, marches and rallies by campus feminists. I wonder if that stuff still goes on. At Kenyon College at least, you can’t miss it, which kidding aside is a good thing, but out in the “real world,” I at least, didn’t hear a peep. That allows me to go back to disliking Valentines Day for all the right reasons, namely that everyone else seems to be in love and I’m not. That’s supposed to be a little joke, I hope you chuckled.

Fairly Average Day

2006-02-10T12:51:00.000-05:00

But I'm going to blog anyway. My apologies if this post isn't particularly interesting, but I've gotten numerous complaints about my lack of posting, that I figured a boring blog is better than no blog. Maybe?

So its almost one clock. I'm feeling pretty good about myself because I'm just about finished with a long awaited second draft of a short story. It's currently entitled, "The Last Night," but could surely use a more intriguing name. It's my first stab in writing a unreliable narrator and the story details the relationship between Matt, the narrator, and the love of his life Diana who he sees as perfect, but you can tell is far from it. The little twist is that the night Diana and Matt finally get together, she dies in a car accident. Now, he must deal with her death as well as their complicated history together. I think its a good little story, but I'm mostly glad to be that much closer to be done, so I can start revising some of my other first drafts.

In other news, a big snow storm appears to be headed for New York City. Its possible eight inches might fall Saturday night, which could lead to a very distraught Brendan trying to shovel out his car in time for his early tennis lessons Sunday morning. I may feel discretion to be the greater part of valor and let my car and myself spend the night at mom's house in New Jersey.

Dinner and a (Super)model

2006-02-09T10:41:00.000-05:00

Went out to dinner two nights ago with three good friend from college to a wonderful Moroccan place in the East Village called Cafe Morador. The food was delicious, the company superb, but what was I talking about at the watercooler yesterday? The possibility that this beautiful woman was standing a mere three feet away at the bar during dinner of course.

The last ten minutes consisted of us audibly wondering why it was taking so long for them to take our money and Bob and I arguing whether this woman really was a Sports Illustrated Supermodel or simply an incredibly beautiful woman. I was unsure, but was leaning towards the latter. Bob seemed fairly convinced. Our female dining companions had no point of reference, so that night I sent them this link. They are ambivalent. Points in favor of the woman being the Yamila Diaz: she looked like her, big lips, two european companions. Points against: not particularly tall, european companions not all that attractive.

Bob had a much better vantage point and really couldn't help looking at her for much of the evening. I could only steal glances as we were getting ready to leave, but she still totally saw me staring at her. I imagine she is used to it. And Yamila, if you occasionally google your name and find this blog, I would love to take you out to dinner sometime ;) seriously.

Fresh Paint

2006-01-17T14:26:00.000-05:00

The elevator was out last night, which was fantastic timing as it meant I got to carry my skies up six flights of stairs. I was carrying my tennis racket as usual and realized I looked like quite the "Tennis Pro" stereotype. Anyway, this morning after moving my car, I disovered the elevator has been out because it was being repainted. Now it looks a lot cleaner, but all the creative graffiti has been erased. No longer will residents of 15 W.107 we greeted with such quotes as "God put me in Hell- the Ghetto." and "Someone died on the first floor- It stinks."

Recent Reading

2006-01-13T13:19:00.000-05:00

While flying to and from Utah, with a nice lay over in Chicago, I got a chance to catch up on my reading. "A Whore's Child," a collection of short stories by Richard Russo was very good. One in particular, about a man confronting his wife's long time lover struck me. I can't realy sum it up, but I love stories that reveal something about human nature and that's what this story does. "Under the Banner of Heaven," by Jon Krakauer was a fun read and based on the number of people who started talking to me about him, Krakauer is a very popular writer. The other book I just finished was "Jarhead," by Anythony Swoffield which of course has been made into a motion picture. I was told to read the book before the movie, stock advice of course, butwas glad I did. The memoir gives you a perspective of Gulf War and the United States Marine Corps that is unexpected, horrifying and reassuring. If that sounds confusing or contradictory read the book and decide for yourself.

One Small Accomplishment

2006-01-13T13:14:00.000-05:00

Surely, you must have figured I was waiting for a big, momentous event to write about before returning to blog again? No? Just thought I was being a lazy son of a bitch? Well, fine.

Something big did happen though. Well, it's a small step for most men, but when I put together my new IKEA desk with only minimal help from my roommate this morning I knew I'd taken a large leap forward into manhood.

And now my room has edged even closer towards "completeness." Next on the list: a bedside table. Anyone got one they don't need?

Reader Response

2005-12-06T16:46:00.000-05:00

A old friend checks in from West Chester:

"Also, I read your blog on Friday and saw that you posted a seme-rhetorical question regarding the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and its status as a universal party night. I agree, that particular Wednesday has always been most active in the Ridgewood area; however, in my recent travels to America Sr (England), America Jr. (Canada), Pennsyltucky, and home at the Dirty Bird I have noticed that Wednesdays, in general, have taken on a new life all their own. After long years studying "Frat Style" I am in a position to assert that Wednesdays are the "Weekend Reset Button." This means that "Fun Wednesdays" or "Hump Days" (as they are called by us working stiffs) can be used to complete any act that was not completed during the previous weekend (ie. 5PM Thursday to Monday Night Football). These deeds were not accomplished due to insufficient stamina, drive, or ambition stemming from the excessive use of Alcohol, and Marijuana. Cocaine is never at fault. It is ill advised to use Wednesday night as the jump-off for your weekend."

I think that says it all.

Tennis Channel

2005-12-04T22:15:00.000-05:00

Just ordered the Tennis Channel and loving it. Twenty Four hours of tennis! Well, except for the wee hours when they show infomercials. But other than that it is awesome. For example, I got to see a classic match from 1997 between a young Pat Rafter and Mchael Chang. It was the kind of match you don’t see much any more: Rafter always coming to the net, whether by serving and volleying or chipping and charging and Chang scrambling to every ball.

But this weekend they showed the Davis Cup Final between Croatia and Slovakia. Last night there was great doubles match and today the reverse singles. I won’t tell you who won. You can check Espn.com for that. But I will share a cute bit of nostalgia.

See, I lived in the Czech Republic for a year, and this Davis Cup was played in Slovakia. The two countries, who once made up Czechoslovakia share much in common including many words in respective languages. So, my minimal Czech skills were able to understand the Umpire when he asked the crowd to be quiet. “Prosim, Prosim.” He said, meaning, “Please, please.” It brought a smile to my face to hear Czech/Slovak again. “Prosim,” is a word that has many uses. It can mean, “Please” as in please be quiet. Or it can be used as a “thank you” by after a transaction. There were a lot of other ways it could be used, and us ignorant American English Teachers never quite knew exactly how or why it could be used and when. But we occasionally figured that we would say when we didn’t know what to say in hopes it would make sense. We found that funny. I guess you had to be there.

Some Thoughts from a Lazy Friday

2005-12-02T14:21:00.000-05:00

I'm getting a little irritated with the whole alternate side parking thing. Waking up at eight kinda sucks when one is trying to get extra sleep to beat a nasty head cold. And despite being tired, I never get much sleep during the hour and half in between moving the car.

But big news! My new full sized bed came. I was all worried that it wouldn't come, or something would go wrong. But the two moving guys came right up, set it up in five minutes flat, and were out the door. Now I have a beautiful new bed with plenty of room to roll around.

Now it's off to tennis. Good day all.

Just Like a Real Blog

2005-12-01T22:27:00.000-05:00

So I know, i took a long hiatus, but now i'm back and plan to blog just about everyday, even if I have nothing particularly interesting to say. I'm thinking that's a good thing. Anyway, here are some recent highlights.

Basketball and Backless Sweaters: Where I visit sick friends, enjoy a game at the garden, and crash a L.ES. apartment party.

Acting: Where I try my hand at acting. rated PG 13 at least!

MTV Dating Show: Where I get interviewed to go on a dating show. (not as cool as it sounds)

I Slam Chris: Here's where I get back at Chris for his constant mocking!

Enjoy the Notes

enough of this

2005-12-01T22:21:00.000-05:00

All right, no more updates. Let's just get back to reality. I am almost totally well and can't wait to have a big drinking night, it has just been too long. My new bed comes tomorrow, or at least is scheduled to be delivered- cross your fingers for me. and lets see, my roommate has a cat named schmoopie who is pretty much scared of everything- that's my kind of cat.

Friday, November 25th

2005-11-29T17:56:00.000-05:00

I bought a new bed. It’s my first “real” bed. Full sized and everything. I imagine it will be the only bed I ever buy until I am married. Adam, the kindly mattress seller told me it has a ten year guarantee, so I guess the clock is ticking… hah. Anyway, they’ll deliver and set it up for free next Friday, it’s all so very exciting. I’m going to need to stop by Mom’s for some sheets and blankets.

Thanksgiving

2005-11-29T17:40:00.000-05:00

A very good Thanksgiving. A full table and lots of delicious food. Sean and I made our now traditional garlic mashed potatoes which received the obligatory compliments. Mom’s turkey was very tasty as well, but not quite as good as the roasted vegetables which were out of this world. Way to go Mom!

My roommate Abby made to the trip to Jersey and her outgoing personality, not to mention succulent Pecan Pie made her a big hit with the family and friends. Sadly, I was still feeling sick. The cold had shifted from my throat to my nose, but still kept me as tired as ever. Early night for me. Why am I sick? So many old friends are coming back into town. I need someone to take care of me.

Black Wendesday

2005-11-29T17:37:00.000-05:00

I am sick. The night before Thanksgiving- the biggest night of the year for hometown bars and I just wanted to curl up on my couch. I rallied of course and after meeting two adorable nieces of a good friend, I made my appearance and said hello to all the same people from high school. Not drinking made the night a lot cheaper, but also a bit boring and I was able to convince a friend to leave around midnight. That’s all I have to say about that.

Note- Is black wednesday (the night before thanksgiving when everyone from high school goes to the same bar) just a Jersey thing? Just a Ridgewood thing? Just my brother and his friends thing? Any opinions out there?

Tuesday, November 22nd

2005-11-29T17:36:00.000-05:00

Another day off and another gloomy day. I sucked down Melon Gatorade like it was my job and was rewarded with a slightly less thirsty sensation in my throat. It was my last night in New York before going home to Mom’s house in New Jersey, so I tried to pack everything the night before just like my parents taught me. I discovered of course the problem with bringing all your laundry home is that until you actually do your laundry, you have nothing to wear. Don’t tell, but I stole a pair of boxers from my brother. Shhh!

Monday, November 21st

2005-11-29T17:35:00.000-05:00

Today came and went and my throat still hurts. I’m starting to think I’m not dehydrated so much as coming down with a cold. I started drinking Gatorade right way, and will buy some healing Yogi tea tomorrow morning. Being sick is never good, and with Thanksgiving coming up this would be especially bad timing.

Saturday and Sunday

2005-11-29T17:30:00.000-05:00

After a late night there is nothing better than a greasy breakfast. I didn’t have time for a full scale assault on my arteries as I had to work at noon. So instead I scrambled myself some eggs and called it a morning. Two private lessons didn’t show up, which was just as well as the Starbucks had worn off an hour ago. Not getting paid is never fun though. I went to sleep early Saturday night as I had more tennis to teach the next morning.

My mom and her boyfriend Joe came into the city Sunday night for a play and took me out to dinner afterwards. I was still tired from work and play, but a free New York dinner doesn’t come along every day. The meal was fantastic. Pasta Carbonara rarely disappoints and the mixed vegetables with toasted mozzarella tasted heavenly as well. Our bottle of wine went quickly and so did the extra glass Mom and I ordered with dessert. (Joe was driving) However, when I got back home I felt incredibly thirsty and no matter how much water I drank the feeling in my throat wouldn’t go away.

Oh, I had also sent my mom a short story to read and she came away convinced I was one of the greatest writers ever. By the end of the bottle of wine she almost had me convinced too. Luckily for my ego, I had some people who did not give birth to me take a look and reassure me that while the story was promising, it needed lots of work, which had been my assessment as well.

Friday, November 18th

2005-11-29T17:25:00.000-05:00

My good friend Chris Heaney, who I’ve written about here (you have to scroll down) and linked to his website here, just had surgery on his knee which he hurt getting out of a cab in Peru. The surgery went well, though his knee is quite swollen and the drugs make it difficult for him to watch foreign films. We chatted for about an hour today about all things under the sun; girls, friendship, literature, academia, writing, girls again, until his percacet kicked in and he kicked me out. It is of course unfortunate that Chris had to interrupt his Fulbright research, but I was grateful for the chance to see him again. I’m going down to Peru in March to visit him, so if anyone wants to give me free Spanish lessons don’t be a stranger. Fair warning: foreign languages are not my specialty.

After work I drove back to the city and went to another basketball game at Madison Square Garden, this time with my awesome new roommate Abby who flushed with the success of her first pay check offered to buy the beer. I wasn’t going to drink, because I’m a cheapskate and drinks at sporting events are a rip-off, but I’m not one to turn down free booze. And lucky I didn’t because the beers helped out as Florida pulled away and beat Syracuse.

After the game I went with Abby to a party in the Lower East Side. It was a bit intimidating going to a party where I knew no one and where everyone appeared to be at least a few years older than me. But a few beers from the keg later, I was enjoying myself and chatting with a tall brunette who was wearing a most intriguing red sweater. The red sweater was backless, making it both revealing and conservative at the same time; it has also been compared to a mullet, business in the front, and party in the back. Make of that what you will. Betsy, the girl in the red sweater, has her own blog here, and is one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met at a party, so of course she has a boyfriend. But as we were saying goodnight and promising to look at each other’s blogs, she told me, “If I didn’t have a boyfriend, and you weren’t so young…” I suppose she meant it as a compliment, so I was happy to accept it as such.

Thursday, November 17th

2005-11-29T12:58:00.000-05:00

Only one lesson today, but I stayed in Jersey last night because I wanted to play early bird tennis in the morning. Not one of my better days, there were a lot of balls hit into the net off my racket and quite a few curse words escaped my lips as well.

When I got back into the city, I decided to sack up and interview for the dating show. It was a very strange experience. Three girls about my age were in charge of casting. They had me sit on a chair in front of bright lights and then asked me a series of probing questions. I was expecting questions about myself: What I did? What I want to be? What I’ve done? Etc. But instead all the questions focused on my approach to dating: What’s my best date? What’s was my worst date? All I could say in response that my best date was with a girl I just totally connected with- we drank two beers at a sports bar and then she walked me to the train station. As far as dates go, it doesn’t matter what you do, but who you are with. (There’s a cheesy Dave Matthews song along those lines) Anyway, I didn’t really like the questions, and didn’t give very good responses. (They haven’t called back) So all in all, it was a lackluster experience. But it felt good to have done something that scared me, it’s important to take risks from time to time.

Besides, after the dating interview I met my good friend Darrell, a talented writer and heartthrob, he's single, so ladies take note, at Madison Square Garden to see the Syracuse Orange(men) take on Texas Tech. My grandparents are from Syracuse, so I had been a long suffering fan until Carmelo Anthony and that magical 2003 team erased the demons. Thursday night was a total blowout as Texas Tech couldn’t make a shot. In the word of my old college tennis coach, “It was like the clubbing of baby seals.”

Wednesday, November 16th

2005-11-29T12:49:00.000-05:00

Five hours of work today, which makes it a big day. My first class was at 10:30, which don’t laugh or get angry, also makes it one of my earliest days. The four ladies that comprise my first lesson from 10:30 to 11:30 are mostly there for the social component of tennis. It took me a while to adjust to teaching people whose primary concern isn’t improving their tennis ability. But it’s really quite easy. I give them a few tips every so often, have them play fun games and let them chat about their kids or shopping whenever they please.

Oh, and then I got an unusual message on MySpace:

Hey Brendan, This is gonna seem a little odd, but I am a casting director,
working on a new reality show for MTV. I am basically looking for young, cute,
single guys in NYC who would be interested in being on the show. I saw your
profile and thought that you would be really great. Basically-- we have already
found this amazing girl and are looking for a couple of guys to go out on filmed
dates with her. It is simple & documentary style and not an elimi-date type
of show. I would be happy to talk to you to tell you more about the project.

It’s a little weird to be sure. And the idea of going on an on camera date and possibly being recognized by people scares the shit out of me. I guess I don’t really want to be famous. But being scared may be reason enough to do it. My friends tell me I’ll be fine, so why not, if nothing else it’s something to blog about.

Tuesday, November 15th

2005-11-29T12:44:00.000-05:00

Today was my one day off from week, so no surprise it rained on and off all day. I was determined to do something fun though, so I finally checked out the Strand. There certainly were a lot of books, and many were cheap, but it was a downer when I realized I didn’t have any money left in this week’s budget for books. You never want to leave a bookstore empty handed, but I did have several books waiting to be read in my apartment. Oh, and an ex girlfriend and I had always talked about going to the Strand…An optimist would say my going there alone shows I’m moving on with my life, but really, it was just kind of sad.

Early Bird Hits the Tennis Ball

2005-11-14T11:17:00.000-05:00

To get back into shape and because it’s fun, I’ve decided to start playing tennis again. So, today at five in the morning, I found myself throwing on my old black warm up pants and sweatshirt while gargling mouthwash. Why so early? Well, at Waldwick Covered Courts they have a six A.M. “early bird” group. It’s easy to get a game, as Jeff, one of the Pro’s matches the players up each day and last year someone usually brought bagels. I appreciate the camaraderie as well and the jersey accents.

Today, driving out of Manhattan at 5:20 the sky seemed to darken as I left the brightly lit streets of the Upper West Side and merged onto the Henry Hudson. Obviously, there was no traffic, and as I crossed the GBW and watched the sun begin to rise I thought about my dad. He used to drive into New York around six in the morning to beat the traffic. I thought it was rather crazy growing up, but now I understand.

Although, I usually feel like shit as I start to play, after a couple of good rallies my muscles warm up and I’m ready to go. A good workout is a natural energy boost. I reward myself with a big three egg omelet before getting a solid hour or hour and half of creative writing in. Today, I moved much closer to wrapping up a story whose ending had been eluding me for weeks. It’s a good feeling. Now, if I could have just hit a few more balls in.

Republican War on People of Faith

2005-11-10T12:24:00.000-05:00

Ok, I'm being snarky, but the IRS is investigating an Episcopal Church. To be fair the Church held a politically charged sermon which may have favored one political party.

Regas' sermon speculated about what Jesus would say to Bush and Democratic
candidate John Kerry on subjects including poverty, violence and war.

In his introduction, Regas said he did not intend to tell people how to
vote, but at one point, Regas imagined the words Jesus would have for Bush: "Mr.
President, your doctrine of a pre-emptive war is a failed doctrine. Forcibly
changing the regime of an enemy that posed no imminent threat has led to
disaster."

On the other hand, as Amy Sullivan at Political Animal points out:

No word on whether the agency is also going after the
Baptist church that kicked out members who voted for John Kerry. Or the
churches that helped out the Bush/Cheney campaign last year by sending in
their membership directories. Or the Catholic priests who told parishioners it would be a sin to vote for Kerry.)

Hat Tip to Andrew Sullivan for this one.

Elections are Fun

2005-11-08T15:23:00.000-05:00

Just voted in the New Jersey Gubernatorial election and realized it was almost exactly five years to the day I first voted. For those of you who are using my blog to procrastinate from critical thinking...five years ago would be the 2000 General Election. Its an interesting story, but for another time.

There;s nothing quite like the feeling of taking part in democracy. Complete with the crazy old lady who showed me to the voting booth and said, "You may now express your opinion."

Well I'd write more, but I forgot to charge my battery and my computer is about to die. So sorry.

UPDATE: Got on my Mom's computer...But it turns out I don't really have too much more to say about voting in NJ's election. I love my state. Home to Tony Soprano, signs read, "Welcome to New Jersey, now get the Fuck out"

Tennis Pro, Writer and now....ACTOR

2005-11-08T15:14:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was only my second day as an Actor and already I got to be in a hot make out scene. Perhaps a little background is in order. Bob Snow, a good friend from college is now living a few blocks away while attending film school at Columbia University. For one class, he was asked to make a short film based on Anton Chekov’s short story, “The Kiss.” If you are unfamiliar with this story, the main theme is alienation. A Russian officer attends a party, but feels out of place and wanders around until he finds himself alone in a room. Then, a girl comes up behind him and starts kissing him, mistaking him for her boyfriend, before realizing her error and running away.
In Bob’s short film, I played a sad, lonely guy who attends a Halloween party in an absurd costume; a blue collared shirt with a white bow tie and a black clown nose. I was the sad (ridiculous looking) clown. Last weekend, we shot the party scene guerilla style by crashing a Columbia Halloween bash thrown by the School of Visual Arts. Basically, I stood around for an hour looking alienated and out of place while wandering through the party. There was another guy wearing the exact same costume (We had to exchange the white bow tie and black nose for our separate scenes) who was living it up at the party, dancing and flirting with girls and all that. Later, that guy’s girlfriend will mistake me for him and start kissing me in an empty room. All in all, my first acting experience was a positive one. Best of all… we got free booze and well, I guess free booze was really the best part.

So with Sunday came the seduction scene. Bob was able to get a fellow film student named Tatiana to play the girl who mistakes me for her boyfriend. I was a bit nervous about the prospect of kissing a girl I didn’t know in front of a camera, but it turned out to be a lot easier than I thought.

For one thing, I didn’t really do any kissing. The majority of the scene consisted of Tatiana passionately kissing my ear and neck while Bob circled around on a little bike filming it. Each take went on for a quite a while, perhaps longer than necessary, but who am I to complain; after all… this was art. At one point, Tatiana apologized for getting a bit of lipstick on my blue shirt. “If you have a girlfriend, make sure you explain,” she said with a laugh. I just nodded and smiled, but thought to myself, if I had a girlfriend she sure as hell wouldn’t let me do this!

For another thing, we were laughing half the time. In one shot, Tatiana seductively runs her hand up my back and onto my shoulder, and then turns me around as if to kiss me. The shot ends with our faces close together and by the time Bob said “Cut,” we were both starting to giggle. There really is something so funny about pretending to seduce/be seduced by someone over and over again with people watching and then telling you how to do it better the next time.

So Bob should be busy editing it all together as we speak. I’m certainly excited to see the final product and hopefully can post it on the blog. Speaking of which, if anyone would like to help Bob and I post the film on the web, be sure to let us know.

Tennis Rackets

2005-11-08T15:02:00.000-05:00

So as some of you may know my tennis rackets were all stolen when my car was broken into a few weeks ago. Since then, I’ve been trying out different rackets before buying news ones. Here is a quick review of the possible new rackets. First, the Head Flexpoint Radical. An updated version of my old racket the TI Radical, it is a very light racket, but hits the ball solid. It's great from the baseline, but not as good on volleys. Andre Agassi made it very popular several years ago. Next up, is the Wilson Ncode Npro racket. Oddly green colored, it is also very light and is used by America’s two best doubles players: Bob and Mike Bryan. Another possibility is the Babolat Pure Drive made famous by Andy Roddick who famously lost his mojo this past August at Flushing Meadows. The Babolat seemed to overtake the radical as the most popular racket among American Juniors. Perhaps I too, will join those who perfer the pure drive. Those are the three top contenders. I invite you all to vote for your favorite racket. I will take careful note of all your responses and then completly ignore them as I choose the racket I play with best.

Reader Comment

2005-11-02T18:39:00.000-05:00

Brendan, you doof. I'm sure it's been pointed out before, but a poetry
contest, when most people have a google searchbar mounted in their browser? You
know what I get when I put Druid Fergus in my searcher? Keats, first result.

Interesting comment. You weren't using a special Latin American Google were you Chris? Because I would venture to guess that if one googles "Fergus and the Druid," Yeats would pop up. Now, surely your snarky remarks aren't a result of losing the Notes poetry contest three times in row? Good luck next week everyone.

p.s. that felt good.

Poetry Winner

2005-11-01T12:42:00.000-05:00

We have our first repeat winner in the poetry contest. Again, Jon Pierre Hufnagel (yes that is a real name) took advantage of his literary expertise and his somewhat constant surveillance of this blog to emerge victorious from a sea of challengers. He writes all nonchalantly:

So, that'd be "Fergus and the Druid" by Yeats. I only ever took one
English class in college and it was freshman year (when I was still
fully intending to be an English major). It was a survey of British
poetry from 1800 through 1970. It's amazing how much mileage I've
gotten out of that one course in terms of being able to converse about
post Roman Empire Lit. with my friends. Cocktail party skills aside,
Yeats' poems really stuck with me, probably more than any of the other
poets I read in that class-Lapis Lazuli, The Second Coming, Wild Swans
at Coole, all that good stuff. Every time I bump into some
Yeats I think I might have missed something in not studying English
Lit.,although it's been awhile. I think the last time I read a Yeats
poem was when you visited me at Vassar. You were studying for your Comps,
I subbed for Richard's radio show, we ate pizza, and you slept on
your couch cushions. I don't think we really did much but talk, both of
us being preoccupied and all, but it was a good time.

Keep holding the center,

J.P.

Oh, don’t worry JP, the center will be upheld for years to come. And congratulations again.

One Soldier

2005-10-26T19:41:00.000-04:00

We keep hearing from the Bush Administration that the situation is improving in Iraq. They cite the large turnout for elections and the drafting of a constitution. Perhaps there is some validity to their claims. But every day, new soldiers are being sent to Iraq. One of them will be writing about it here. If you don’t have a friend or relative in Iraq, this running diary is the next best thing. At least for me, the war has become in many respects just background noise on cable news. This is a powerful reminder that Americans are fighting and dying for us everyday.

2000

2005-10-26T15:09:00.000-04:00

2000 American soldiers have been killed in Iraq. By the time you read this a few more will have died. It took four fewer months to hit 2000 dead as it took to hit 1000 dead. Does anyone think it’s going to slow down anytime soon?

Do you remember back when we launched our first offensive in March? Fox News was covered in American flags and gleefully describing how easily we were capturing large sections of Iraq. If someone had gone on TV and said that less than three years later 2,000 American soldiers would be dead and many times that would be seriously injured they would have been labeled Un-American. But that is what has happened. Is it Un-American to feel anger over the death of some of our bravest men and women? 2000 young American men and women have died. How many more will die? 3000? 4000? 10,000?

Read more about it here.

Poem of the Week

2005-10-24T11:20:00.000-04:00

He was among my father's favorites, but sadly I did not discover the genius and power of this poet until I was studying for my English Comprehensive Exams at Kenyon College two years after my father had passed away. There's a lot I feel I've missed out on having my father die when I was only nineteen, but I feel quite acutely how much I would have enjoyed discussing this poet and his poems. It's only human to want to feel a connection to your past, to your ancestors. That's part of what makes this poem so powerful to me. I'll write more about it after the contest has neded for this week. Enjoy!

Fergus. This whole day have I followed in the rocks,
And you have changed and flowed from shape to shape,
First as a raven on whose ancient wings
Scarcely a feather lingered, then you seemed
A weasel moving on from stone to stone,
And now at last you wear a human shape,
A thin grey man half lost in gathering night.

Druid. What would you, king of the proud Red Branch kings?

Fergus. This would I say, most wise of living souls:
Young subtle Conchubar sat close by me
When I gave judgment, and his words were wise,
And what to me was burden without end,
To him seemed easy, so I laid the crown
Upon his head to cast away my sorrow.

Druid. What would you, king of the proud Red Branch kings?

Fergus. A king and proud! and that is my despair.
I feast amid my people on the hill,
And pace the woods, and drive my chariot-wheels
In the white border of the murmuring sea;
And still I feel the crown upon my head

Druid. What would you, Fergus?

Fergus. Be no more a king
But learn the dreaming wisdom that is yours.

Druid. Look on my thin grey hair and hollow cheeks
And on these hands that may not lift the sword,
This body trembling like a wind-blown reed.
No woman's loved me, no man sought my help.

Fergus. A king is but a foolish labourer
Who wastes his blood to be another's dream.

Druid. Take, if you must, this little bag of dreams;
Unloose the cord, and they will wrap you round.

Fergus. I see my life go drifting like a river
From change to change; I have been many things
-A green drop in the surge, a gleam of light
Upon a sword, a fir-tree on a hill,
An old slave grinding at a heavy quern,
A king sitting upon a chair of gold -
And all these things were wonderful and great;
But now I have grown nothing, knowing all.Ah!
Druid, Druid, how great webs of sorrow
Lay hidden in the small slate-coloured thing!

Didn't I just read that?

2005-10-23T20:05:00.000-04:00

As my perceptive readers have surely already noticed I recently wrote two blogs about the same event. Am I going crazy? Was that an early senior moment? Have I lost my short term memory a la the Memento guy? No, no plus raised eyebrow, and no. Actually, as has happened many times to me after writing a long email to a friend, my post failed to go through and was deleted. At least, so I thought. I discovered, after rewriting the post tonight, that the original post had been successful uploaded to the blog.

So now, dear readers, you are in the unique position of seeing two retelling of the same story by the same person. Judge for yourself. In my opinion, this proves the old adage that the second time to write something it comes out better because you’ve had time to take a look. Perhaps that will make you feel better the next time Yahoo deletes an email you spent half an hour writing.

New Tourist Attraction

2005-10-23T19:29:00.000-04:00

I went out Friday night with friends from Ridgewood. 201! Represent! Just kidding. Anyway, after sucking down two dollar PBRs down in the Lower East Side, we decided to move on uptown to Jakes Dilemma. In case you’re unfamiliar with Jake’s Dilemna, it’s exactly the same as the Gin Mill, Brother Jimmy’s and the other bars that cater to Yuppie NYC twenty somethings with large disposable incomes. There always a good time to be had,; alcohol and classic bar songs will always see to that, but I usually feel a bit silly afterwards having spent another night amid black tank tops and stripey shirts scene that is the current NYC nightlife. But I digress.

So, there I was, standing around with a bunch of friends, covertly scanning the crowd to see if there was anyone worthwhile around. This trio of Asian girls caught my eye. Totally cute, but oddly attached to each other. It was a rare moment when one of them was not holding hands or otherwise attached to another. And occasionally, all three would huddle up like a pint sized football team and confer for several seconds. Anyway, after a few minutes they disappear to the back of the bar and I forget about them until they return a while later. I glance over occasionally until suddenly one walks over, grabs my arm and motions for me to come over. She says something, and holds up what looks like a camera, so I naively assume she wants me to take a picture of her and her friends. Actually, she wanted her friend to take a picture of me and her. What could I say? A few seconds later that’s exactly what happened. Then, one hastily asked for my name before they all scurried out.

Should I consider myself some sort of tourist site now? My friends wasted no time letting me know how hilarious the situation was. And I wasted no time turning my cheeks a rosy red. Ahh, New York. You never know who you’ll meet.

Friday Night

2005-10-22T18:35:00.000-04:00

Went out last night with a bunch of friends from Ridgewood. 201! Represent! Anyway, at the popular bar "Jakes dilemma" I found myself shyly smiling at a trio of Asian girls. They seemed to be having a good time, likely having consumed multiple vodka cranberries earlier, but were curiously very attached to each other. Every couple of minutes they would put their heads together like a pint sized football team in a huddle. They're hands and arms were always connected and they were passing a single beer back and forth. Then, to my surprise and slight shock, one walked a few steps over to me, gently grabbed my arm while holding up a camera and asked if I would take a picture. At least that's what I naively assumed. Actually, they wanted to know if they could take a picture of me with one of them. I didn't really see how I could say no. With a camera phone no less, they snapped two shots of me and one of the girls. Then said thanks, quickly asked for my name and then scampered out of the bar. My friends, who of course had been watching the whole thing, quickly asked, "What the hell was that?" I shrugged my shoulders; who knows?

What Good is a Blog...

2005-10-20T20:51:00.000-04:00

If you can't promote your friends. Go here to learn all about the life and times of one Grace Yi-Ting Lee. A self styled ABC (American Born Chinese) her family orginally came from Taiwan, bought raised young Grace in the lovely suburb of Ridgewood. We met while attending Ridgwood High School and bonded in the back of the Latin classroom. I enjoyed checking our answers together, by which I mean I would see if I got the questions right by asking Grace.

After graduating from RHS, Grace traveled north to Dartmouth University where she received a degree in History. Currently she is continuing her education at The University of Texas School of Law and LBJ School of Public Affairs. Besides studying, Grace enjoys consuming alcohol, returning impulse purchases, practicing the art of omphaloskepsis and really hopes to meet an attractive, intelligent, moderate Republican. Her live journal is current, off beat and always a satisfying read. Enjoy.

Where's David Madden...

2005-10-19T09:57:00.000-04:00

When you need him. Ok, it's not that urgent, or even necessary, but I have a question regarding hurricane names. I was reading an article on Yahoo and discovered that, "On Monday, Wilma became the Atlantic hurricane season's 21st named storm, tying the record set in 1933 and exhausting the list of names for this year. The six-month hurricane season does not end until Nov. 30. Any new storms would be named with letters from the Greek alphabet, starting with Alpha." My questions is this: Since there are 26 letters in the alphabet, why are there only 21 possible names? I know, I could google this, but I was curious whether any of my readers, (I'm pretty sure I have readers) know this off the top of their heads.

Sidebar: Stephen Colbert, on brand spanking new and hilarious Colbert Report brought this up as a "Threat to America." He warned, as Bill O' Reilly has been known to do, about current threats to the American way of life. Apparently "Greek Hurricanes" are on the list.

Sidebar: For those of you not fortunate enough to go to Ridgewood High School, David Madden was one of the smartest kids I've ever met. We took four years of Latin together and he seemed to know everything. Turns out, he really does know everything, as he was Jeopardy champ for several weeks. Now that is a tradition of excellence.

Sidebar to a Sidebar: "Tradition of Excellence" was displayed in large letters on the side of Ridgewood High School for all to see. It really is a public school, in a town so wealthy, it acts like a private school. Kids graduate in white tuxes or white dresses and you should see what the school sends to each and every college its students apply to. Very impressive, if you like that sort of thing.

Tuesday

2005-10-19T00:30:00.000-04:00

Today was my day off from the Tennis Club and I must say I did not exactly make the most of it. I did work for a solid hour on a short story, and thought I made some good changes. We’ll see what people think. Anyway, I had big plans to walk through Central Park on my way to the Met, but instead I just took a nap and then it was too late to make it before closing. Oh well, there’s always next Tuesday.

It’s weird having my “weekend” on Tuesday. In some ways it’s nice. I get a random day off, so it’s easy to take care of errands, go on adventures (see my ambitious goals for today), etc. But, then again, nobody else is free, so I have no one to adventure with, or just sit around with and watch Law and Order.

Ok, I guess I don’t really have much interesting to report. At least it’s stopped raining, that’s something we can all be thankful for.

Poem Winner

2005-10-16T19:19:00.000-04:00

Ms. Shanna Spinello who tells me she is "Proud to Not Know the Offspring Song."
Nevertheless recongized William Shakespeare as the poet and was kind enough to send me her favorite sonnet.

When in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon my self and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least,
Yet in these thoughts my self almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate,
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

I'm not writing you a paper...I'm at work. All I really have time to say is
that every week my favorite changes...so to be fair, I chose an old standby.
Thanks to Meg Schaeffer for making it an acting warm-up. Always nice to walk
into a freshmen lit class with a few sonnets under your belt.

Fashion Tips

2005-10-14T13:04:00.000-04:00

Just got back from my two nights, one day trip to West Chester, PA where I visited my good friend John and his lovely girlfriend. They were kind enough to feed me Tuesday night and give me run of her apartment which to my delight contained a TV, a DVD player and the first season of Lost. It’s amazing how quickly a day can go by on the couch.

Anyhoo, John just wrote to thank me for coming and to make a fashion recommendation.

"You should also look into buying some G-Unit sneakers. There is nothing
like having a big huge joke on your feet at all times. If I could I would
wear them to work. Be careful though...they're like the OG Jordans...you
can get mugged for 'em.

John is a wise man. Check out his Friendster testimonials for proof.

Belated Poem of the Week

2005-10-14T11:53:00.000-04:00

Now renamed "Poem of the Fortnight."

In keeping with our theme of the pain and heartbreak of love, I move to far more well known poet. I first read this poem in middle school and was reminded of a classic Offspring song. Bonus points if you can name that song. Both answers to be revealed shortly. Enjoy.

WHEN my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor’d youth,
Unlearned in the world’s false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
On both sides thus is simple truth supprest.
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
O! love’s best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her, and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter’d be.

Vinny and the Jets

2005-10-14T11:46:00.000-04:00

To the delight of New York Fireman and sportswriters everywhere, Vinny Testaverde’s return allowed chants of J-E-T-S to continue prodding the New York football Jets to victory, and ensured the continuation of such witty headlines as “Vinny and the Jets,” and “Vinny, Vedi, Vici.” In a movie script story, Vinny, 41 years young, called the coach from his Long Island house after watching the Jets number one and number two quarterbacks go down with injury, and needed just six practices before leading the Jets to a dramatic victory over the previously undefeated Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

So hope has returned to beleaguered Jets fan, who are all too familiar with losing seasons. Now at 2-3, the Jets stand a mere one game behind Division leading Super Bowl Champs New England. Of course, such hope is fleeting, as a crucial divisional game looms this Sunday against the Buffalo Bills. But for us long suffering Jets fans, hope that we might qualify for the playoffs and then maybe win a few round is all we ask for.

My Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Weekend

2005-10-10T11:28:00.000-04:00

It started off a bit auspiciously as I took a wrong turn on Rt.17 on the drive home from work while the rain came pouring down. But once back in New York, I quickly found a parking spot and rushed home to shower before meeting friends at the subway station. A relaxing night of drinking and carousing ensued starting with free wine and Chinese at the Columbia Kitchen and proceeded to friend’s apartments and various bars in the Columbia area. It seemed a fine start , but little did I know the trouble has already begun.

I woke up Saturday to the sound of rain and discovered as I dressed for work that in my recent move to New York I had neglected to bring any rain gear. So, I got a bit soaked on the way to my car and was looking forward to turning on the heat full blast for the drive out to Jersey. But when I got to my car I noticed a few items were sitting he drivers seat and others were strewn about the car. At first bewildered, I slowly realized my car had been broken into. Had I left the door unlocked? No, the right rear vent window was smashed and broken pieces of glass covered one of the seats. I sat in the car as a sickening feeling of violation crept into my body. Anger, fear, frustration, helplessness. I joked to myself it was almost enough to make someone Republican.

At least my car hadn’t been stolen, I thought to myself. I’d drive to work, then go home and figure out what to do. But then the other shoe dropped; my car wouldn’t start. It would turn over for a half a second and then die. Crap. I tried again. Nothing. I waited a few seconds and tried again. Nothing. I check my watch, not enough time to catch a train. I called my brother. Thankfully, the Yankee game has been rained out and he was willing to pick me up. To expedite the process, I told Sean I’d meet him at 95th and Broadway right off the exit from the Henry Hudson. It speeded things up, but got me even wetter. I got to work a bit late, but they understood and four hours later I was back at home being consoled by Mom. Moms are always good for that.

So what did I lose? Just about every CD I own, which if you know me, isn’t too too bad, certainly less disastrous than it would be for some friends of mine. But still really sucks and even worse, my tennis bag had been stolen along with all three of my good rackets, and a “Kenyon Tennis” sweatshirt, one of my favorites.

And luckily, after I took the train back to the city, I got my car to start. (I think I had stepped on the gas in the morning and flooded it) Then had a good time at a party on Canal Street, which I’ll write more about later.

The luster of living in the city has left for now, but I’ve got my first New York experience under the belt and am no worse for wear- though about to be out about 150 for a new window.

New Blogger

2005-10-05T23:40:00.000-04:00

You can admit it you saw her next to Bush and thought she was old school, not cool enough to have a blog. But check it out. Live and in color is Harriet Mier's blog.

Update: This is a parody.

Friendster

2005-10-05T14:02:00.000-04:00

I admit it. After years of resistance, I joined and subsequently became addicted to Friendster. It wasn't long before I added to my internet friend validation site addiction by joining The Face Book. I suppose it's inevitable that I'll eventually expand again and try MySpace.

Anway, Friendster recently added a new option allowing you to see who has viewed your profile in the past month. This change was done without fanfare, so most people were unaware of the option to adjust your personal setting so people would not be able to know you had looked at their profile. As a result, when the big change was made, I was able to see just about everyone who had recently looked at my profile. Among the viewers: an ex girlfriend's ex boyfriend, a high school friend's ex-girlfriend, a 31 year old woman in a relationship, a random hot girl whose profile I had looked at a few days ago.

I am a big fan of the change, but others are dismayed. One girl writes:

Well this is Fuckin Humiliating
what good is friendster if you cant view all ofyour friends and their friends
without worryingabout the ramifications. i mean, this is how I occupy most
of my work hours as pathetic as it is.

For my part, I like being able to see how has looked at my profile, even if it hardly matters as I look at many profiles just for the heck of it. However, I did change my personal settings so that people can't know I looked at their profile. Make of that what you will.

Tuesday Tuesday

2005-10-04T17:32:00.000-04:00

Tuesday is currently my day off, so after sleeping in for the first time in what seems like ages and then lounging around the house, I packing up a few more things and headed into the city. There was an unexpected delay at the GWB for some construction, but after that I coasted into the UWS and found a parking spot right on my block. Score!

My goal today was to set up my room and it was a lot easier than I thought. First, I cleaned, which is a rare activity, but it felt good to know I was moving in to a spic and span room. Then I unpacked all my clothes, hung up a few posters: my large reproduction for Caspar David Freidrich's "The Wanderer and the Sea," and a odd picture of a bar filled with dogs I purchased my senior year of college at the second hand store in Mount Vernon. I mentalled sorted the different locations for additional desks, futons, etc and came up with a workable idea. We'll see how well it all works out.

Having finished the room, I turned on the baseball game (The Red Sox are losing!) and started reading "Bobo's in Paradise" by David Brooks. It's good, but not as good as I hoped.

Now I'm getting hungry, so I'm going to turn the water for pasta. Life in the city has begun, and I like it.

Poem of the Week Winner

2005-10-03T23:07:00.000-04:00

And the winner is...JP Hufnagel who has a quite bit to say about everyone's favorite latin lyric poet.

Like...pop-punk bands, Catullus exposed me to things I knew next
to nothing about, but desperately wanted to experience-namely, love and all the
drama that goes with it. "Let us live, and let us love..."said Catullus to his
lover..."Give me a thousand kisses," old Catty said. That sounded pretty hot to
me, who had only recently discoveredthe art and science of kissing (Thanks,
Random Girl From Toronto Who I Met While Vacationing With My Family!).

In my favorite Catullus poem, Number 85, he says:
"I love and I hate, 'why do I do this?' perhaps you askI don't know, but I feel,
and I am tortured."

I'm not sure why, but at the time, I really wanted to feel that intensely
about another person. The drama and confusion seemed like the price of being
in love. And if Catullus tended to overdo the tortured artist bit, well, that
only made him more authentic in my eyes. The fact that he'd written dozens of
poems about the same girl treating him like crap seemed indicative of his
devotion, not of his immaturity. The way that Catullus described love was how
love was SUPPOSED to be as far as I was concerned. Later that spring, I
would meet my first real girlfriend, with whom I had a very intense, butless than
stable, relationship for the next two years. Back then, I thought our
on-again, off-again, manipulate-each-other's-emotions thing was literary and
kind of cool, and I partially blame Catullus. Having studied Classics
in college, I have had many occasions to revisit Catullus. I have to say, he
holds up a lot better than Sublime ever will. The economy of his language,
his really cool use of meter,and the blunt way in which he expresses himself
are still reallyappealing to me. At the same time, his perspective on love,
of which Iwas so enamored at seventeen, seems rather narrow and silly and,
well, false. Like I said, you can't go back, bro.

So as you may have inferred from our favorite Catullus poems, JP and I were not exactly lady killers in high school. JP actually figured out who the poet was after I told him the first line. No great feat you say. Well, he then proceeded to recite the entire poem...in latin. Very Impressive.

Anyway, stop by next week for the second Poem of the Week.

Poem of the Week

2005-09-30T20:36:00.000-04:00

The poem of the week is a new feature at Notes. If you recognize the poet, send an email and your favorite poem by the poet. I’ll post your name and the poem as soon as I have a winner. Enjoy!

My woman says there is no one but me she would rather be with,
Not even if Jove himself should ask.
So she says, but what a woman says to a passionate lover, Should be written in the winds and fast moving water.

Big Day

2005-09-30T20:34:00.000-04:00

Not one, but two, once a year events happened today. First, I found a new apartment. It’s in the Upper West Side and is very nice, especially for the price. Second, I had McDonald’s for lunch. My double quarter pounder was very tasty, or as my clever Czech students used to say, “tasteful.” I’m not sure, but this very well could have been my first McDonalds for me since returning to the States. Looking forward to next year already.

Oh, and in my weekly tennis match with the big serving Ralph Bysiek, I was hitting my returns and made some Sportscenter worthy passing shots en route to a solid 6-3, 6-3 victory. Hooray!

Bringing the Hammer Down

2005-09-28T14:32:00.000-04:00

My that was a clever title. And its true, Tom Delay has been indicted. Read all about it here. Now, I'm not saying the Congressional Republicans didn't have this coming...Ok, I guess I am.

Disaster Strikes

2005-09-28T11:04:00.000-04:00

As I walked back to my car after checking out an apartment on the Upper West Side, I put my notebook, weekly planner and book on top of my car so I could open the door. See, I was engaged in an important phone call, and perhaps that was why I neglected to retrieve the items from the roof. About twenty stressful minutes later, the phone call was no walk in the park, I drove away and then heard something fall off my car. My first thought was somehow a giant parking ticket has been placed on my roof or on the back window. But a quick glance at the passenger seat revealed the utter lack of a notebook, a weekly planner and my friends loaned copy of "Fortress of Solitude." So, I muttered a quick, "Crap," pulled over, got out of the car to search for my lost belongings. Thankfully, I located them a few blocks back, got back in my car, and drove home without incident.

Is there a lesson here? Don't leave items on your rooftop. Though come to think, the last time I was in Vermont, for my brother's graduation, a pair of dress shoes made it safely from the hotel to his apartment on the roof of his car. Sometimes, life does you favors.

Blogging Abroad

2005-09-27T12:05:00.000-04:00

Ever wondered what a human heart looks like? Recently decided you give two shits about Latin America? Realized you want to know a whole lot more about moustaches? Need to brush up on your oral history? Then check out Muscular Heart for all this and more coming to you in real time and in color straight from my favorite Fulbright scholar in Peru.

The Kitty Cats Came Back

2005-09-27T09:10:00.000-04:00

Not the very next day, it's been about a week now. But this morning I was greeted by Midnight and Tiger Too lounging on our patio furniture. And oh, they grow up so quickly. Midnight was acting oddly; he kept putting his front paws on the sliding glass door and attempting to bite the glass door. Weird. Anyway, it's nice to have them back. They really are adorable. Right now they are grooming themselves right outside our house.

Update: I went outside to see if they would be friendly towards me. They were gone by the time I had reached the patio. But I did discover our trash can had been knocked over. Raccoons?