Wawel Castle and Cathedral: each king added his own thing and so you have Medieval, Romanesque, Renaissance and Baroque styles, all rolled into one fantastic complex at the top of a hill overlooking Krakow
1 day ago
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
Tuesday, December 07, 2004
Destination: Poland (Tuesday night)
Fine already, show your stuff, Krakow!
There is a travel book on the bestseller list in the States. It lists all the top sights in the world – the ones you should definitely see before you die. Three of them are in Poland -- two in Krakow alone (the castle and the main square). Okay, so the cynic will ask – what’s wrong with the rest of Poland? Wrong question obviously.
I am tired (and wired! My hotel room has a hook up!). But I go out to take a look at the holiday market on the main square (see photos below). I hear someone say in English “damn, that’s good!” They mean the hot red wine with spices that you can pick up at one of the stands. You can sip it while eating, what else – roasted meats, sausages and cooked cabbage stew. Now come on, stay open minded. Imagine: it’s cold, it’s dark, it’s late and you come across the smoky stand where someone is turning sausages. Better than brats, I’m sure.
But I pass on it. I’m aiming tonight for the Peasants' Kitchen, where they serve good old pierogi, stuffed with cabbage and mushrooms. What's this though? The old Peasant Kitchen isn’t full of Poles anymore. I hear German, or English with a German accent. Okay, okay, the Polish hosts were not ALL pandering to their western neighbors with disparaging comments about women , Warsaw and who knows what else. But I do hear one Pole tell his German guest: “Warsaw? There are lots of nice things about Warsaw, I just can’t think of what they might be.” Politeness forces me to keep quiet and concentrate on my peirogi.
There is a travel book on the bestseller list in the States. It lists all the top sights in the world – the ones you should definitely see before you die. Three of them are in Poland -- two in Krakow alone (the castle and the main square). Okay, so the cynic will ask – what’s wrong with the rest of Poland? Wrong question obviously.
I am tired (and wired! My hotel room has a hook up!). But I go out to take a look at the holiday market on the main square (see photos below). I hear someone say in English “damn, that’s good!” They mean the hot red wine with spices that you can pick up at one of the stands. You can sip it while eating, what else – roasted meats, sausages and cooked cabbage stew. Now come on, stay open minded. Imagine: it’s cold, it’s dark, it’s late and you come across the smoky stand where someone is turning sausages. Better than brats, I’m sure.
But I pass on it. I’m aiming tonight for the Peasants' Kitchen, where they serve good old pierogi, stuffed with cabbage and mushrooms. What's this though? The old Peasant Kitchen isn’t full of Poles anymore. I hear German, or English with a German accent. Okay, okay, the Polish hosts were not ALL pandering to their western neighbors with disparaging comments about women , Warsaw and who knows what else. But I do hear one Pole tell his German guest: “Warsaw? There are lots of nice things about Warsaw, I just can’t think of what they might be.” Politeness forces me to keep quiet and concentrate on my peirogi.
Destination: Poland (Tuesday evening)
So do I introduce myself or stay quiet?
On the train to Krakow I sit compartment style. Everyone is shaking hands: they know each other. Enter me, the outlier, the one in the pink shirt and black pants amidst a sea of tweed. They are academics it seems, profs from the Academy of Agriculture. Slightly older than me. In Poland, everyone is lightly older or younger than me. What happened to my generation?
Everyone is reading, I’m writing. I’m “Polish” on this run, I already spoke it to them in Polish and so there’s no going back, I’m committed. But please don’t ask me about my work. I have been traveling all day, I am too tired to think lucidly about the law in Polish.
On the train to Krakow I sit compartment style. Everyone is shaking hands: they know each other. Enter me, the outlier, the one in the pink shirt and black pants amidst a sea of tweed. They are academics it seems, profs from the Academy of Agriculture. Slightly older than me. In Poland, everyone is lightly older or younger than me. What happened to my generation?
Everyone is reading, I’m writing. I’m “Polish” on this run, I already spoke it to them in Polish and so there’s no going back, I’m committed. But please don’t ask me about my work. I have been traveling all day, I am too tired to think lucidly about the law in Polish.
Destination: Poland (Tuesday)
In flight from Paris to Warsaw: you can always spot a Pole…
It’s a skill, but we can do it. If I had to split the plane in two parts, one for the Poles and one for the French, I bet I could guess who would belong in which group with an error of no more than 1 or 2. My father, proud of his worldliness, used to say that he’d be indistinguishable, that is --within the error group. I humored him and answered-- yeah, sure.
It’s a skill, but we can do it. If I had to split the plane in two parts, one for the Poles and one for the French, I bet I could guess who would belong in which group with an error of no more than 1 or 2. My father, proud of his worldliness, used to say that he’d be indistinguishable, that is --within the error group. I humored him and answered-- yeah, sure.
Ahhhh Warszawa!
I have to say this at the outset. I love Warsaw and I am fiercely protective of her. Krakow, the beauty queen, did not suffer in the way Warsaw did in the twentieth century. Warsaw has scars like the kid who once had a bad case of acne. Scars that are difficult for others to understand. Scars of destruction followed by poverty. Warsaw has grit and determination to make something of herself and I just love her to death for it.
Once when colleagues traveled here and later showed me photos they took – I remember vividly one of a decrepit park bench – I cried. Is this the way you see her? --I asked.
Loving her as much as I do allows me to look critically as well. Driving in from the airport is revealing. These are the streets I remember: blocks of apartments that westerners regard as quaintly decrepit in their ugliness. I think—oh how happy are the inhabitants! They have their own apartment in Warsaw and they have their neighborhood and I bet they feel at home there.
It is the new that appears to me more garish, more unsightly. Unregulated advertising. Big signs. Big towers of modern church spires. BIG, it has to be BIG. Aggh! Get me out of here! Thankfully, the city center is spared. It remains as I remember it.
Arrival in Warsaw, but then straight to Krakow
These days I do not initially stop in the capital for more than a few hours (I am in Warsaw now, unloading suitcases and presents). I head straight for Krakow (3 hours by train). My work connections are at the Jagiellonian University in Krakow and it’s best to get work done first, before I forget that there is work to be done.
My sister acts as chauffeur. But for our childhood six years in NY and then a brief stint at an American grad school, she has always lived in Warsaw and she is street-smart, keeping up with the new ways that you have to pay attention to. I’m stuck in the old ways of safe streets and low crime rates. She is my protector. Don’t flash cash! Don’t drink tap water! Keep your purse to the front of you! Do not use unmarked cabs. Mafia!
Dilemma
Would you buy yourself some easy love and worship by speaking English in stores/restaurants/hotels even though you were fluent in Polish? I’m always torn on this and I cut it 50 – 50, depending on what I am after and how important it is that I get it.
[I do it for them too! If you are a Pole and the door opens to your store and the person says “dzien dobry” – ho hum, just another customer. But you hear a foreign sounding “hello” and you perk up. God, Americans have currency here. The dollar can plummet to negative numbers and it’ll still buy you a hero’s welcome.]
Off to the train station now.
I have to say this at the outset. I love Warsaw and I am fiercely protective of her. Krakow, the beauty queen, did not suffer in the way Warsaw did in the twentieth century. Warsaw has scars like the kid who once had a bad case of acne. Scars that are difficult for others to understand. Scars of destruction followed by poverty. Warsaw has grit and determination to make something of herself and I just love her to death for it.
Once when colleagues traveled here and later showed me photos they took – I remember vividly one of a decrepit park bench – I cried. Is this the way you see her? --I asked.
Loving her as much as I do allows me to look critically as well. Driving in from the airport is revealing. These are the streets I remember: blocks of apartments that westerners regard as quaintly decrepit in their ugliness. I think—oh how happy are the inhabitants! They have their own apartment in Warsaw and they have their neighborhood and I bet they feel at home there.
It is the new that appears to me more garish, more unsightly. Unregulated advertising. Big signs. Big towers of modern church spires. BIG, it has to be BIG. Aggh! Get me out of here! Thankfully, the city center is spared. It remains as I remember it.
Arrival in Warsaw, but then straight to Krakow
These days I do not initially stop in the capital for more than a few hours (I am in Warsaw now, unloading suitcases and presents). I head straight for Krakow (3 hours by train). My work connections are at the Jagiellonian University in Krakow and it’s best to get work done first, before I forget that there is work to be done.
My sister acts as chauffeur. But for our childhood six years in NY and then a brief stint at an American grad school, she has always lived in Warsaw and she is street-smart, keeping up with the new ways that you have to pay attention to. I’m stuck in the old ways of safe streets and low crime rates. She is my protector. Don’t flash cash! Don’t drink tap water! Keep your purse to the front of you! Do not use unmarked cabs. Mafia!
Dilemma
Would you buy yourself some easy love and worship by speaking English in stores/restaurants/hotels even though you were fluent in Polish? I’m always torn on this and I cut it 50 – 50, depending on what I am after and how important it is that I get it.
[I do it for them too! If you are a Pole and the door opens to your store and the person says “dzien dobry” – ho hum, just another customer. But you hear a foreign sounding “hello” and you perk up. God, Americans have currency here. The dollar can plummet to negative numbers and it’ll still buy you a hero’s welcome.]
Off to the train station now.
Monday, December 06, 2004
Destination: Poland
If you’re attempting to make multiple connections in the course of a journey, the most crucial one is, of course, the first. Miss that and you miss the boat entirely. So why is it that I am found running up Park Street at 11:29 a.m. with a heavy suitcase (it’s the gifts) when the bus for O’Hare leaves promptly at 11:30?
It’s because of the Christmas treats. I had to mail a box of goodies to daughters who are far away and (I am thinking) in desperate need of chocolate-covered gingerbread. But oh, the line at the post office! When it became clear that waiting it out would cost me my bus and therefore flights and therefore Poland and all my meetings, I considered two alternatives: toss the box into the car and forget about it, or give it to someone in line with a $10 bill and the following plea: “mail it for me please; I am desperately late. If it’s more, forget it, throw it away, eat it, pocket the money, whatever. But I don’t think it’s more; I will appreciate it so much. And so will the little ones at the other end.”
So which would you have done? *
That I made the bus is nothing short of a miracle. Now, at the airport, I am finding innovative ways to blog. Of course. A day cannot pass…
* We live in troubled times. I took one look at the people in line, all over the age of 80, it seemed (who else has time to stand at the post office at 11:20 a.m.), and I thought – they’re going to have me arrested. Sigh. The goodies got tossed to the back seat.
It’s because of the Christmas treats. I had to mail a box of goodies to daughters who are far away and (I am thinking) in desperate need of chocolate-covered gingerbread. But oh, the line at the post office! When it became clear that waiting it out would cost me my bus and therefore flights and therefore Poland and all my meetings, I considered two alternatives: toss the box into the car and forget about it, or give it to someone in line with a $10 bill and the following plea: “mail it for me please; I am desperately late. If it’s more, forget it, throw it away, eat it, pocket the money, whatever. But I don’t think it’s more; I will appreciate it so much. And so will the little ones at the other end.”
So which would you have done? *
That I made the bus is nothing short of a miracle. Now, at the airport, I am finding innovative ways to blog. Of course. A day cannot pass…
* We live in troubled times. I took one look at the people in line, all over the age of 80, it seemed (who else has time to stand at the post office at 11:20 a.m.), and I thought – they’re going to have me arrested. Sigh. The goodies got tossed to the back seat.
Sunday, December 05, 2004
Thanks for an inspired Sunday full of comfort and joy
We’re trying to keep the spirits high here, despite the bleak, wintry weather and the dark days, despite the crowded stores and the excessive shopping syndrome that characterizes this month, despite listening to stories about preparations for the inaugural ceremonies (it could have been so different), despite it all, we click on the Net and look to blogs to cheer us up and we come across yours and whammo! Right in our face. Pictures of atrocities that the imagination cannot even begin to comprehend. And then no posting all day. Nothing to pick us up. Thanks a lot!
I can’t help the news that I hear about every waking hour. Ocean is only as happy as the world around it.
So you could not find anything to balance the morning post? No one, including you, is doing anything happy-happy?
I ran around in the bleak wintry weather and dark days to crowded stores where people were excessively shopping. I am in a mad dash to Get It All Done before tomorrow’s departure.
Departure? So where are you going and why?
In this one month I am privileged to be spending time in four cities and two villages that have easily been the most important places in my life. I have work to do, yes, but I also have time to spend with my Polish family and pals, and then with my residing-on-the-East Coast family.
So you wont be blogging much?
Who are you kidding? I have already told my sister (who lives in Warsaw) that I will basically not leave her apartment because I have too much blogging to do and so she may as well not coax me into any other activities.
Seriously, ever since I started blogging in January, I have wanted to post from Poland. I am traveling with my computer and my camera and my tested trusty world Internet access (dial-up, but oh well), so I should be fine. Ocean is crossing the ocean and she and I can’t wait to plunge right into my homeland with vignettes of life as I know it, remember it, miss it. The next 24 hours may be thin on writing as I am on a bus, then in the air, then in the air again, then on a train. But after that, if you are curious about life Over There, tune in.
I can’t help the news that I hear about every waking hour. Ocean is only as happy as the world around it.
So you could not find anything to balance the morning post? No one, including you, is doing anything happy-happy?
I ran around in the bleak wintry weather and dark days to crowded stores where people were excessively shopping. I am in a mad dash to Get It All Done before tomorrow’s departure.
Departure? So where are you going and why?
In this one month I am privileged to be spending time in four cities and two villages that have easily been the most important places in my life. I have work to do, yes, but I also have time to spend with my Polish family and pals, and then with my residing-on-the-East Coast family.
So you wont be blogging much?
Who are you kidding? I have already told my sister (who lives in Warsaw) that I will basically not leave her apartment because I have too much blogging to do and so she may as well not coax me into any other activities.
Seriously, ever since I started blogging in January, I have wanted to post from Poland. I am traveling with my computer and my camera and my tested trusty world Internet access (dial-up, but oh well), so I should be fine. Ocean is crossing the ocean and she and I can’t wait to plunge right into my homeland with vignettes of life as I know it, remember it, miss it. The next 24 hours may be thin on writing as I am on a bus, then in the air, then in the air again, then on a train. But after that, if you are curious about life Over There, tune in.
A blog that is not for the faint-at-heart depicting a war that is also not for the faint-at-heart
Departing for a moment from the light-and-airy posts, I want to signal a WashPost article from today discussing the emergent prominence of one part-time blogger. He lives in New York, apparently works for an Internet company and in his spare time, he posts photos of the human cost of war, photos that are deliberately left out of the presentations put forth by official government and news sources. [He has issued a statement saying that he is not intending to make an antiwar statement. He asserts that the American soldiers are also victims. He does feel anger at the American people for supporting the war without a hard look at the costs involved.]
His blog has generated enough attention to be of concern to the US government. In response to the disconcerting images, the US military has taken the time to put together a website with its own slide show, intended to generate support for the military intervention in Iraq.
Still, the authors of the news article interviewed a number of military experts who claimed that the blogger’s site is the more compelling of the two.
The private blogger’s site can be viewed at: http://www.fallujahinpictures.com
His blog has generated enough attention to be of concern to the US government. In response to the disconcerting images, the US military has taken the time to put together a website with its own slide show, intended to generate support for the military intervention in Iraq.
Still, the authors of the news article interviewed a number of military experts who claimed that the blogger’s site is the more compelling of the two.
"As far as the blog site, this is information operations at its finest," said one Marine officer who has served in Iraq. … An Army soldier who fought in the Sunni Triangle last year and maintains a blog himself agreed. "The winner has to be the blog," he said. "There's something all too visceral about seeing the pictures of the dead and wounded, on both sides, which overwhelms static displays of weaponry" in the military presentation.I’ll list the two sites, with a note that the blogger’s site is indeed very graphic. Here’s what the WashPost says about it:
Juan Cole, a University of Michigan expert on Iraqi affairs … came to a similar but broader conclusion: "What the two presentations show us is that the U.S. military is full of brave and skilled warriors who can defeat their foes, but is still no good at counterinsurgency operations, and is wretched at winning hearts and minds."
In the version of the Web site that was up last week, the first image on the site showed a malnourished Iraqi baby, wide-eyed and screaming in pain, under the sarcastic headline, "another grateful Iraqi civilian."The “Soldiers for the Truth” site, supported by the US military can be reached here: http://www.sftt.org
Many of the photographs are far more graphic than are usually carried in newspapers, showing headless bodies, bloodied troops, wounded women, and bandaged babies missing limbs. One added recently shows a U.S. soldier with part of his face blown away by a bomb.
The private blogger’s site can be viewed at: http://www.fallujahinpictures.com
Saturday, December 04, 2004
Accusations unwarranted
Some East Coast readers are suggesting that I am not attending to my holiday duties. Since I am going to be away from Madison for the next several weeks, they say that my attentions are elsewhere. How wrong, how wrong. And yes, I think for fewer than a handful of people, ten bags of chocolate-covered gingerbread stars moons and hearts, plus ten chocolate-covered gingerbread men and trees are enough. When Tommy Thompson said today that he worries nightly about the safety of American food supply (as well he might, for any number of reasons), he did not mean that I should buy out Clasen’s entire supply of Christmas cookies just in case.
A sign of emotional fragility, or a sign that I am Poland-bound soon?
Three-thirty. Say good-bye to my man Jason (best hair person in town, hands down). Look at my list of errands. Sigh (I hate errands). Turn on “truck.” Turn on WERN public radio. Oh! It’s Tchaikovsky’s Violin concerto in D (download it if you haven’t listened to it. NOW!). Stop car. Eyes get moist. Listen. Dusk sets in. Winter sky has wisps of grey cloud and a touch of peach. Eyes get moister. Wait ‘til it’s over. Drive home, toss list of errands aside. Turn on Wieniawski violin concerto (no.2), followed by Bruch's (no.1). Write emails to Poland.
Is there any one book that helped you understand women (or yourself, if you are a woman)?
Again a poll, again from Britain. Again on the BBC website.
The top ten chosen titles will be announced in four days. In the meantime, there is a short list of thirty. Looking at it, I had this idea that some of the titles could indeed have been nominated by men, and some only by women. Here’s my guess as to who is responsible for the leap to the short list (question marks mean I don’t know the book, F/M means it’s a toss up; there are more Fs because I am sure many more women than men voted):
Angelique by Sergeanne Golon (?)
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy (F/M)
The Awakening by Kate Chopin (F, with maybe a couple of guys who had to read it in school or something)
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (F)
Beloved by Toni Morrison (F)
Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks (bizarre choice for this list so I’ll have to say M!!)
Bridget Jones' Diary by Helen Fielding (sadly F)
The Color Purple by Alice Walker (F)
Fear of Flying by Erica Jong (F)
Game Of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett (F/M)
The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing (F)
Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell (unfortunately F)
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (F/M)
I Capture The Castle by Dodie Smith (?)
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte (F/M from school days)
The L-Shaped Room by Lynne Reid Banks (?)
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (a cruel hoax I hope, even if you like the book, wrong list!)
Middlemarch by George Eliot (F)
Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson (?)
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver (F/M)
Precious Bane by Mary Webb (?)
Pride And Prejudice by Jane Austen (F)
Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier (what woman would identify with Rebecca?? But then, what man would read Rebecca?)
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant (?)
Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy (F, with despair)
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (I don’t get how this says anything about women so I’ll say M)
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf (F)
Unless by Carol Shields (F)
Woman on the Edge of Time by Marge Piercy (?)
The Women's Room by Marilyn French (F)
The top ten chosen titles will be announced in four days. In the meantime, there is a short list of thirty. Looking at it, I had this idea that some of the titles could indeed have been nominated by men, and some only by women. Here’s my guess as to who is responsible for the leap to the short list (question marks mean I don’t know the book, F/M means it’s a toss up; there are more Fs because I am sure many more women than men voted):
Angelique by Sergeanne Golon (?)
Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy (F/M)
The Awakening by Kate Chopin (F, with maybe a couple of guys who had to read it in school or something)
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (F)
Beloved by Toni Morrison (F)
Birdsong by Sebastian Faulks (bizarre choice for this list so I’ll have to say M!!)
Bridget Jones' Diary by Helen Fielding (sadly F)
The Color Purple by Alice Walker (F)
Fear of Flying by Erica Jong (F)
Game Of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett (F/M)
The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing (F)
Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell (unfortunately F)
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (F/M)
I Capture The Castle by Dodie Smith (?)
Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte (F/M from school days)
The L-Shaped Room by Lynne Reid Banks (?)
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott (a cruel hoax I hope, even if you like the book, wrong list!)
Middlemarch by George Eliot (F)
Oranges Are Not The Only Fruit by Jeanette Winterson (?)
The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver (F/M)
Precious Bane by Mary Webb (?)
Pride And Prejudice by Jane Austen (F)
Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier (what woman would identify with Rebecca?? But then, what man would read Rebecca?)
The Red Tent by Anita Diamant (?)
Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy (F, with despair)
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (I don’t get how this says anything about women so I’ll say M)
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf (F)
Unless by Carol Shields (F)
Woman on the Edge of Time by Marge Piercy (?)
The Women's Room by Marilyn French (F)
If you’re not part of the first year Torts small section 10 (Camic), skip this post: it’s too mushy for the innocent bystander.
An open letter to those who were indeed part of Torts Sec. 10:
Thanks guys. For the flowers and the card (I was not *that funny* but thanks for telling me I was). For the dinner and the numerous drinks tonight. For the reunion plans and the shared stories and the toasts. But mostly, thanks for this semester. I have vivid memories of each and every one of you and only my shyness (you’re laughing now, I can tell) held me back in telling you how much I respect and like you. You are unique. I loved every hour of class time together. I’m sure you could tell. Take that spirit of camaraderie and good will and make a difference in the legal profession. I am counting on each of you to do that. And then come back and tell me about it.
Thanks guys. For the flowers and the card (I was not *that funny* but thanks for telling me I was). For the dinner and the numerous drinks tonight. For the reunion plans and the shared stories and the toasts. But mostly, thanks for this semester. I have vivid memories of each and every one of you and only my shyness (you’re laughing now, I can tell) held me back in telling you how much I respect and like you. You are unique. I loved every hour of class time together. I’m sure you could tell. Take that spirit of camaraderie and good will and make a difference in the legal profession. I am counting on each of you to do that. And then come back and tell me about it.
Friday, December 03, 2004
Does anyone else think that the British have a superior sense of humor – so much so that sometimes it’s hard for other mere mortals to laugh along?
There was a time when I looked forward to humorous British flicks. They were so…puzzling. Remember the one about the pig that made its way into the household? It was impossibly funny. I guess.
Today marks the day of the return of the Little Britain – a comedy series aired on the BBC. How funny is it? Consider this description and photo of one of the characters:
Bubbles
Repulsively obese Bubbles spends all her time at a health spa, being preened and pampered at the expense of her mysteriously-absent businessman husband. Whenever the manager tries to establish when her husband will be settling the balance, she fobs him off before offering him 'alternative' methods of payment...
Today marks the day of the return of the Little Britain – a comedy series aired on the BBC. How funny is it? Consider this description and photo of one of the characters:
Bubbles
Repulsively obese Bubbles spends all her time at a health spa, being preened and pampered at the expense of her mysteriously-absent businessman husband. Whenever the manager tries to establish when her husband will be settling the balance, she fobs him off before offering him 'alternative' methods of payment...
To celebrate and promote the return of the show, BBC sponsored a contest for people to write in untrue facts about Britain. Here are some favorites. Unique, aren’t they?
In Britain, roundabouts were installed in 1904 at cliffs to stop people driving into the sea.
Scotland was supposed to be called Wales, but it was found that the name had already been taken.
In Britain, something funny happens every 13 years.
Cornwall was added onto Britain in 1923 to make it a more attractive shape.
Britain is actually pronounced 'Britain', which not many people know.
In Britain 86% of people are right handed, 13% use their left hand. The other 1% don't bother.
For health reasons, doughnuts contain no nuts.
City gents in Britain wear bowler hats as a tribute to Laurel and Hardy.
Britain's museums contain the largest number of bronze age pots in the world. Please feel free to take one.
The only qualification you need to work for the Royal family is, bizzarely, the abilty to spin plates.
In Britain, roundabouts were installed in 1904 at cliffs to stop people driving into the sea.
Scotland was supposed to be called Wales, but it was found that the name had already been taken.
In Britain, something funny happens every 13 years.
Cornwall was added onto Britain in 1923 to make it a more attractive shape.
Britain is actually pronounced 'Britain', which not many people know.
In Britain 86% of people are right handed, 13% use their left hand. The other 1% don't bother.
For health reasons, doughnuts contain no nuts.
City gents in Britain wear bowler hats as a tribute to Laurel and Hardy.
Britain's museums contain the largest number of bronze age pots in the world. Please feel free to take one.
The only qualification you need to work for the Royal family is, bizzarely, the abilty to spin plates.
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Blogging notes
Thank you so very much to those* who spoke up [some quite passionately!:)] in defense of the freedom to engage in honest, inquisitive, earnest blogging conversations, in response to the Polish Immigrant’s accusations against my posts at Ocean (cited by me here). You guys rock! More importantly, you understand the importance of a thoughtful and deliberate exchanges of ideas. On a personal level – I was so completely touched, both by the comments and the handful of emails. There are some pretty decent people reading blogs these days. It gives one hope, really it does.
* I would have responded to you personally had I your email addresses.
* I would have responded to you personally had I your email addresses.
The place to go for a shake and a rattle
Free associate!
Poland...
Obsessively blogged about lately on Ocean.
Freezing...
Wisconsin!
Freezing in Europe...
Poland?
Poland in December...
Snow, icicles, sleet, chilled, shivering…
Okay okay. Earthquake...
San Francisco!
No.
Negative, zero…
No, I mean San Francisco is wrong.
How can it be wrong? This is free association! No right, no wrong. Just free!
But it’s an educational free association and “San Francisco earthquake” is wrong. The most recent one, just today, was in the Krakow – Zakopane area of Poland.
Earthquakes?? In Poland?? But that’s where you’re heading, right? First Hokkaido last spring (earthquake recorded a few days ago), now Krakow – Zakopane, aren’t you scared?
Believe me, if I see anything rattling down there it will be, most likely, the highlanders’ dentures.
Poland...
Obsessively blogged about lately on Ocean.
Freezing...
Wisconsin!
Freezing in Europe...
Poland?
Poland in December...
Snow, icicles, sleet, chilled, shivering…
Okay okay. Earthquake...
San Francisco!
No.
Negative, zero…
No, I mean San Francisco is wrong.
How can it be wrong? This is free association! No right, no wrong. Just free!
But it’s an educational free association and “San Francisco earthquake” is wrong. The most recent one, just today, was in the Krakow – Zakopane area of Poland.
Earthquakes?? In Poland?? But that’s where you’re heading, right? First Hokkaido last spring (earthquake recorded a few days ago), now Krakow – Zakopane, aren’t you scared?
Believe me, if I see anything rattling down there it will be, most likely, the highlanders’ dentures.
It's all fun and games while you're in Law School
My first year law students are enjoying themselves in these last days of classes. Someone posted a Civ Pro Quiz (Which Federal Rule of Civil Procedure are you? -- found here; I hope it's PG - 13, I did not check the results) and several are posting their answers on the small section email list.
I wish I were a student again. I'm home grading papers. Their papers. Bummer being a professor rather than a 1L, engaged in merriment now, in the last days prior to exams.
I wish I were a student again. I'm home grading papers. Their papers. Bummer being a professor rather than a 1L, engaged in merriment now, in the last days prior to exams.
Ask a Pole
If you click onto interia.pl (and if you speak Polish so that you can actually understand what comes up) you’ll find a link to an Internet Polish news source, with several CNN-style questionnaires soliciting opinions on any number of issues. I’m going to translate just two, one that I think speaks to the deeply-rooted national complex I wrote of in an earlier post, and the other highlighting what I indeed know about Poles: they are avid readers.
(This poll follows an article about how Poles are breaking with stereotypes as they travel to England to find work under the new EU open-door policy)
Which of these stereotypes about Poles do you think is most widespread?
(3025 Poles responded when last I checked)
That s/he is a drunkard: 30%
That s/he is lazy: 1%
That s/he is knowledgeable: 7%
That s/he is hardworking: 3%
That s/he steals: 22%
That s/he is a manipulator: 37%
How many books did you read in the last 6 months?
(1021 Poles responded when last I checked)
1: 6%
2: 6%
3: 9%
4– 6: 21%
7 – 10: 12%
more than 10: 31%
none 15%
[If you are thinking that Net users are perhaps more likely to be bookish, I’d say an argument for the opposite can be made: avid Net users tend to read less than those without access to a computer. In any event, the results don’t surprise me. Poles really do read a lot – not only books, but also journals with social and political commentary.]
(This poll follows an article about how Poles are breaking with stereotypes as they travel to England to find work under the new EU open-door policy)
Which of these stereotypes about Poles do you think is most widespread?
(3025 Poles responded when last I checked)
That s/he is a drunkard: 30%
That s/he is lazy: 1%
That s/he is knowledgeable: 7%
That s/he is hardworking: 3%
That s/he steals: 22%
That s/he is a manipulator: 37%
How many books did you read in the last 6 months?
(1021 Poles responded when last I checked)
1: 6%
2: 6%
3: 9%
4– 6: 21%
7 – 10: 12%
more than 10: 31%
none 15%
[If you are thinking that Net users are perhaps more likely to be bookish, I’d say an argument for the opposite can be made: avid Net users tend to read less than those without access to a computer. In any event, the results don’t surprise me. Poles really do read a lot – not only books, but also journals with social and political commentary.]
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Thanks for the memories…
It’s odd to be hearing these words repeatedly on one day, in two different contexts.
I woke up to news of the closing of JFW – the weblog that inspired Ocean. Thanks, Jeremy, for introducing yourself through your blog.
… And I turned on the news tonight to listen to Brokaw’s parting words on NBC Nightly News: It’s not the Qs that get us in trouble [he tells us], it’s the answers and no one person has all the answers.
At the same time, Ocean got a link moments ago from a blog titled “The Polish Immigrant” (it is not the first time). A sympathetic fellow blogger? Couldn’t be less so. He writes in his post:
(Knee) jerk [that would be me]
I've been ignoring this blogger [link to Ocean] for a while now but all good things come to an end. She is a somewhat influential [!?] Pole teaching in my graduate school. And she is wrong on all important issues.
The blog has a comments function where I responded thus:
I guess I find it somewhat reassuring that someone out there has all the correct answers and can definitively say that I am wrong on all [issues]. I myself do not think I am "right" or "wrong," I simply give one perspective -- my own.
I guess Brokaw and I agree.
As for Jeremy, let me say this: get going on your next writing adventure, a.s.a.p.
I woke up to news of the closing of JFW – the weblog that inspired Ocean. Thanks, Jeremy, for introducing yourself through your blog.
… And I turned on the news tonight to listen to Brokaw’s parting words on NBC Nightly News: It’s not the Qs that get us in trouble [he tells us], it’s the answers and no one person has all the answers.
At the same time, Ocean got a link moments ago from a blog titled “The Polish Immigrant” (it is not the first time). A sympathetic fellow blogger? Couldn’t be less so. He writes in his post:
(Knee) jerk [that would be me]
I've been ignoring this blogger [link to Ocean] for a while now but all good things come to an end. She is a somewhat influential [!?] Pole teaching in my graduate school. And she is wrong on all important issues.
The blog has a comments function where I responded thus:
I guess I find it somewhat reassuring that someone out there has all the correct answers and can definitively say that I am wrong on all [issues]. I myself do not think I am "right" or "wrong," I simply give one perspective -- my own.
I guess Brokaw and I agree.
As for Jeremy, let me say this: get going on your next writing adventure, a.s.a.p.
‘Tis the season to talk more about food
Think you can’t find pierniczki w czekoladzie in Madison for the holidays? Think you have to travel to Poland to stock up? Oh, then you don’t know about Clasen’s Bakery and their yearly baking rituals. The dark chocolate-covered gingerbread cookies are only available during the first weeks in December. I dragged myself “oh so reluctantly” there and bought a pack. Or two. Okay, many more than that.
How to love a (Polish) Pope even if you basically disagree with much of what he says
The Italians have found a way. In the IHT today:
Italians routinely ignore the conservative Pope John Paul II in matters of private morality, like contraception, divorce or marriage (far fewer Italians are marrying, in the church or out), but admire him deeply for his stands on issues like caring for the poor or his outspoken opposition to the war in Iraq.
The article points out that Italians are much less adversarial in their approach to secularism and Christianity. There may be a crucifix in every classroom, but few give it more than a passing glance, feeling neither devout about it nor repelled by it. Though I have read this about Italy before, I wonder sometimes if there isn’t a geographical divide there as well, with the South being less tolerant of secularism and the North, less preoccupied with Church matters in general, feeling perhaps culturally more aligned with its north-western neighbors than with its southern provinces.
Still, it’s ‘good’ to read that the Pope has some fans outside of Poland.
Italians routinely ignore the conservative Pope John Paul II in matters of private morality, like contraception, divorce or marriage (far fewer Italians are marrying, in the church or out), but admire him deeply for his stands on issues like caring for the poor or his outspoken opposition to the war in Iraq.
The article points out that Italians are much less adversarial in their approach to secularism and Christianity. There may be a crucifix in every classroom, but few give it more than a passing glance, feeling neither devout about it nor repelled by it. Though I have read this about Italy before, I wonder sometimes if there isn’t a geographical divide there as well, with the South being less tolerant of secularism and the North, less preoccupied with Church matters in general, feeling perhaps culturally more aligned with its north-western neighbors than with its southern provinces.
Still, it’s ‘good’ to read that the Pope has some fans outside of Poland.
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
Poland, turning nannyish?? Never!
A reader sent a link to a story in the Boston Globe that compared Poland today with where Ireland was some ten, twenty years ago: only Poland is even poorer, even more agricultural and devoutly Catholic in the rural communities, and even more historically dominated by powerful and oppressive neighbors.
It is suggested that Poles feel comfortable in Ireland and view it as the model for where they would like to be a few years down the road (given that Ireland was ranked by the Economist as having the highest quality of life in the entire world, it is not a bad goal for Poland to aspire to, especially since currently, the standard of living index for Poland is 40% of the EU average).
Okay, fine. But I’m reading as well that what Poles admire tremendously in the Irish is their confidence. We know that Poles have a strong inferiority complex, cultivated fastidiously over the centuries. There is reason for it: the country has suffered terribly in the most degrading and base ways. The resultant sense of humiliation and plain old sadness wont go away overnight, not even with a giant leap into prosperity.
But are we slated to then have a nannyish government (an accusation levied against the British as well as the Irish)? Not likely. There is a felt national defiance that is resilient to paternalism. Nannyish legislation works well in places where people continue to fuss about the proper way to drink tea – Britain comes to mind (Melanie Phillips at the Daily Mail wrote several months back when commenting on Blair’s tough stance on national vices: "Our nannyish government—which is trying so hard to stop us smoking or stuffing our faces with cream buns or behaving in other ways of which it disapproves...”). Poland has yet to even suggest, for example, a smoking ban in bars. If and when it does so, I can guarantee that the stubborn majority will roll their eyes while it’s rolling another cigarette.
It is suggested that Poles feel comfortable in Ireland and view it as the model for where they would like to be a few years down the road (given that Ireland was ranked by the Economist as having the highest quality of life in the entire world, it is not a bad goal for Poland to aspire to, especially since currently, the standard of living index for Poland is 40% of the EU average).
Okay, fine. But I’m reading as well that what Poles admire tremendously in the Irish is their confidence. We know that Poles have a strong inferiority complex, cultivated fastidiously over the centuries. There is reason for it: the country has suffered terribly in the most degrading and base ways. The resultant sense of humiliation and plain old sadness wont go away overnight, not even with a giant leap into prosperity.
But are we slated to then have a nannyish government (an accusation levied against the British as well as the Irish)? Not likely. There is a felt national defiance that is resilient to paternalism. Nannyish legislation works well in places where people continue to fuss about the proper way to drink tea – Britain comes to mind (Melanie Phillips at the Daily Mail wrote several months back when commenting on Blair’s tough stance on national vices: "Our nannyish government—which is trying so hard to stop us smoking or stuffing our faces with cream buns or behaving in other ways of which it disapproves...”). Poland has yet to even suggest, for example, a smoking ban in bars. If and when it does so, I can guarantee that the stubborn majority will roll their eyes while it’s rolling another cigarette.
weather watch
Last week I complained bitterly about traveling to Poland where early snowstorms have hit Warsaw with a fury, given that I still had roses blooming in my Wisconsin back yard.
Today I must issue a correction.
Current temp. in Madison: 36 degrees F
Current temp. in Warsaw: 36 degrees F
Now, can we just keep it at that sublime (upwards of freezing) level in both places for a month or two?
Today I must issue a correction.
Current temp. in Madison: 36 degrees F
Current temp. in Warsaw: 36 degrees F
Now, can we just keep it at that sublime (upwards of freezing) level in both places for a month or two?
What's so odd about Hazel?
Someone asked me just yesterday what name I would choose if I had to have a different first name. I was stumped. ‘Nina’ is all that comes to mind. Not that it is a typical Polish name. Au contraire-- I remained nameless for a while as my mother stubbornly petitioned the authorities in Poland to permit a name that was not an official entry on the calendar of saints (ah the paradoxes of communist governance!).
Today, the press is bemused at the name choices for the Julia Roberts twins (Hazel and Phinnaeus). But a WashPost article reminds us that celebrities have often found apt names for their offspring on lists that are anything but pedestrian:
Of course, there are those that follow another extreme, opting to choose a plain and simple name and use it over and over again. The article notes that George Foreman named five of his ten children ‘George.’
Today, the press is bemused at the name choices for the Julia Roberts twins (Hazel and Phinnaeus). But a WashPost article reminds us that celebrities have often found apt names for their offspring on lists that are anything but pedestrian:
Celebrity baby names these days are very . . . different. We say this not to pass judgment, but to point out one more way celebrities are not like the rest of us.
The list keeps growing. Demi Moore and Bruce Willis are the parents of Rumer Glenn, Scout LaRue and Tallulah Belle. Gwyneth Paltrow and Coldplay singer Chris Martin recently begat Apple. Sylvester Stallone sired Sage Moonblood and Sistine Rose. Courteney Cox Arquette and David Arquette are the proud parents of Coco. Singer Erykah Badu -- herself on the celebrity all-name team -- has a child named Puma. John Travolta and Kelly Preston named their boy Jett. Christie Brinkley's youngest is a girl named Sailor. The late rock star Michael Hutchence named his daughter Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily. Long-ago rock star Bob Geldof calls daughter Fifi Trixabelle to dinner. Soccer star David Beckham and Victoria "Posh Spice" Adams's brood includes Brooklyn, Romeo and a soon-to-be wee one who reportedly may be dubbed San Miguel. Supermodel Claudia Schiffer has a girl named Clementine, as does Cybill Shepherd. Rob Morrow, of "Northern Exposure" quasi-fame, dubbed his baby Tu, as in Tu Morrow.
We'd mention that Michael Jackson named one of his children Prince Michael, but this seems like the least Out There thing about Michael Jackson.
Of course, there are those that follow another extreme, opting to choose a plain and simple name and use it over and over again. The article notes that George Foreman named five of his ten children ‘George.’
Worry more, age more (worry less, get less done, look the same)
The WashPost reports on a study that demonstrates the relationship between long-term stress and aging. If there is a definite causal relationship, does it follow that a stress-free lifestyle puts you ahead of the pack in terms of reducing physical manifestations of old age? My guess is that it does not. However, I would be willing to offer myself up for study, since I have perfected the art of blocking to such a degree that I can actually be writing emails or a taking a splendid walk outside and remain completely oblivious to the work deadlines, household management issues, etc., that are pounding at the door trying to force me to take seriously their presence.
Monday, November 29, 2004
"...And what book are you reading right now?"
If there is one type of book that I cannot resist buying (and also oftentimes cannot finish reading), it is the biography. The thicker the better. I like it to be rich in detail and annotation, preferably a product of several decades’ worth of research. (These same traits, of course, make reading it casually almost impossible. For example, I lugged a 985 page tome to the gym this evening. Horrible choice – the workout dragged, the dilligent page-by-page reading stalled.)
If blog entries are bullet-sized chapters of an author’s work in progress, then bloggers’ question-and-answer posts must be the capsule equivalents to biographies. Not surprisingly, once I stumbled tonight onto the normblog's 52 (per year) featured bloggers, I could not tear myself away from the site. Click here and learn how bloggers describe themselves. Fascinating stuff.
If blog entries are bullet-sized chapters of an author’s work in progress, then bloggers’ question-and-answer posts must be the capsule equivalents to biographies. Not surprisingly, once I stumbled tonight onto the normblog's 52 (per year) featured bloggers, I could not tear myself away from the site. Click here and learn how bloggers describe themselves. Fascinating stuff.
A Dell-icious encounter: okay, what are you guys trying to do here? Your stock’s going under? Your company’s in trouble? What?
I used to say that Ocean *tries* to entertain and that it is not, therefore, a place where I want to let off steam. Still, sometimes I’ve been tempted. Yes, alright, I have indeed noted at times the irksome, stormy little episodes and encounters that have caused even Ocean waters to turn turbulent. A good candidate for a fuming-type post would be a recount of any exchange with a Dell service rep.
Just minutes ago, in fact, I ended a long-dreaded conversation with a Dell rep. Think I am now entering into “rant mode?” Think again:
I’m calling because my Latitude has a defective cord that often spontaneously disconnects.
That’s too bad. Wear and tear maybe?
Uh, I don’t know… Oh, and also a handful of those little screws on the bottom fell out.
You mean the thing still hangs together with the little screws missing?
Yeeees… sort of ... I didn't do anything!
We’ll have to send you some replacements right away! And a new power source. And a new cord, just in case. There’ll be no charge of course. Thank you for bringing this to our attention!
I’m leaving for an extended trip within a week…
Oh, Nina, you’ll be getting these tomorrow.
BTW, I’m always curious, which part of the world are you located in?
Alabama. Worried about outsourcing, are you? Nope, right here in the States. Here’s your order number! I so enjoyed talking with you, Nina!
Weird, isn’t it?
Just minutes ago, in fact, I ended a long-dreaded conversation with a Dell rep. Think I am now entering into “rant mode?” Think again:
I’m calling because my Latitude has a defective cord that often spontaneously disconnects.
That’s too bad. Wear and tear maybe?
Uh, I don’t know… Oh, and also a handful of those little screws on the bottom fell out.
You mean the thing still hangs together with the little screws missing?
Yeeees… sort of ... I didn't do anything!
We’ll have to send you some replacements right away! And a new power source. And a new cord, just in case. There’ll be no charge of course. Thank you for bringing this to our attention!
I’m leaving for an extended trip within a week…
Oh, Nina, you’ll be getting these tomorrow.
BTW, I’m always curious, which part of the world are you located in?
Alabama. Worried about outsourcing, are you? Nope, right here in the States. Here’s your order number! I so enjoyed talking with you, Nina!
Weird, isn’t it?
The world may be hostile toward our military interventions overseas, but gosh, at least we’re doing a good job with the highway to the South Pole
…And still there are those who are knocking this latest expansionist, U.S.-sponsored project. Sir Edmund Hillary (the first to drive a vehicle to the South Pole) is speaking out against the American ice-highway across Antarctica. Why? After all, according to the New Zealand foreign minister, our efforts are “environmentally acceptable” (I know, I was surprised too). Still, Sir Ed says we’re doing a “terrible job.”
Here at Ocean, I must admit I have not been following the debate very closely. But the idea is in keeping with this blog's philosophy of linking people across vast territories and bodies of water, frozen or otherwise. Thus a 1,020 mile ice highway (allowing year-round access to a research station) seems totally cool to me, undeserving of Sir Ed’s icy reception. So long as we leave the seals and polar bears alone, I’m for it. Go pick on some of our other projects – ones deemed environmentally irresponsible and foolish. I’m sure there are plenty to choose from.
Here at Ocean, I must admit I have not been following the debate very closely. But the idea is in keeping with this blog's philosophy of linking people across vast territories and bodies of water, frozen or otherwise. Thus a 1,020 mile ice highway (allowing year-round access to a research station) seems totally cool to me, undeserving of Sir Ed’s icy reception. So long as we leave the seals and polar bears alone, I’m for it. Go pick on some of our other projects – ones deemed environmentally irresponsible and foolish. I’m sure there are plenty to choose from.
Sunday, November 28, 2004
Do people on this side of the ocean ever cry over the strains of the balalaika?
Is there anyone aside from me who swells with great emotion when the balalaika plays its little tune as spring comes to Yuriatin?
Doctor Zhivago is not a great movie. Yurii is in many ways a despicable character. History is simplified, love is simplified. Pasternak is not at the top of the Russian heap of great writers.
But play that tune, flash those daffodils and birches and I am lost in the world that has absolutely no resemblance to this one. This is a Russian fairy tale and I love all elements that make it exactly that.
I came back to Madison tonight and I mindlessly clicked on the TV. I don't typically do this, but I was tired and I spent way too many hours at airports (on the busiest travel day of the year). Dr. Z. spun me back to another world, made up of a different range of emotions -- one I'll fully plunge into next week on my trek back to Poland. Wonderful transition. Thank you cable TV. You came through at last.
Doctor Zhivago is not a great movie. Yurii is in many ways a despicable character. History is simplified, love is simplified. Pasternak is not at the top of the Russian heap of great writers.
But play that tune, flash those daffodils and birches and I am lost in the world that has absolutely no resemblance to this one. This is a Russian fairy tale and I love all elements that make it exactly that.
I came back to Madison tonight and I mindlessly clicked on the TV. I don't typically do this, but I was tired and I spent way too many hours at airports (on the busiest travel day of the year). Dr. Z. spun me back to another world, made up of a different range of emotions -- one I'll fully plunge into next week on my trek back to Poland. Wonderful transition. Thank you cable TV. You came through at last.
I could be home by now
I noticed that practically all my posts today have been about the "materialistic impulse." It may have something to do with being stuck at La Guardia for half the day because I caved in to the "free ticket" grabbing game. There is no free anything. I could be sipping a nice latte at Borders right now. Instead, I am watching the fog roll in from the Long Island Sound as the post-Thanksgiving crowds get fidgety. Free travel in the future hardly seems like a pleasant prospect at the moment.
Even the liquidators found the stuff to be "down there" in terms of quality
Would you run over to the Mayflower Hotel on Central Park West (or -- the former Mayflower Hotel) to pick up a bargain -- like maybe a beat-up garbage can, or an old mattress, or a sink? Some did. For the hobby of it. In the NYTimes Metro section today I read the following (emph. my own):
Okay, but a used (splattered, tarnished, chipped, stained, ugh!) garbage can? Because it came from a mediocre hotel that you once stayed in? I can think of a number of reasons for "why not."
Riechler's Law of Shopping states that necessity has an inverse relationship to cost. As the price of an item drops, the need to own it increases... "Do I really need a portable fridge?" [Dick Riechler, the author of the law] asked, in the Socratic style. "It's cheap. Why not?"
Okay, but a used (splattered, tarnished, chipped, stained, ugh!) garbage can? Because it came from a mediocre hotel that you once stayed in? I can think of a number of reasons for "why not."
Finding beauty in a broom that you don't necessarily use with any great frequency
Always interested in learning from those who celebrate *humble beauty,* I was drawn today to the review in the Times of The Wabi-Sabi House. Wabi-sabi doesn’t seem a difficult concept (emphases throughout are my own):
I am sorry to sound contrary, but these seem to me to be indeed quiet, but not exactly pleasure-inducing activities. I am not publicly backing glue guns or vibrators, but I stand in opposition to describing cleaning as an artistic expression of humble beauty.It's about spare living spaces and well-worn handmade objects, and an appreciation of quiet pleasures — indeed, of plain old quiet. Sweeping a floor rather than vacuuming, taking up knitting, washing the dishes by hand — these are wabi-sabi activities. Using a glue gun (or a vibrator) is not.
Further in the article, I learn that those who practice wabi-sabi believe it to be completely un-American. Perhaps as un-American as apple pie. [This is my phrase. Apple pie is Polish. Everyone should know that. Szarlotka = apple pie. Simple.] Why does wabi-sabi confuse the average American?
That's because, [the Wabi-Sabi House author] writes: "We're afraid of real poverty and decay. … [If you want to practice wabi-sabi] try not to freak out when you come home to a dirty house. Turn the lights off and light some candles, making sure they're strategically placed away from the dirty dishes and the dog hair on the carpet.So first I am told to celebrate quiet house cleaning and then to revel in poverty and decay. This would be tough. The third identified component – not freaking out when you come home to a house that is in disarray: no problem. I am about to do that today. Though I am not too pleased with the guy who just spilled a bag of crumbled potato chips at my feet at the airport gate area. I want to tell him to humbly sweep it up for the sake of simple beauty.
Posting in limbo
Would you give up your seat on an overbooked flight for $100?
No.
For $200?
No.
For $200, and a confirmed seat on a flight in three hours?
Uh…
For a free roundtrip ticket to anywhere in the 48 states?
Uh...
For a free roundtrip ticket to anywhere in the 48 states, and a guaranteed seat on a flight that’ll get you back home in time for dinner?
Uh…
For a free roundtrip ticket to anywhere in the 48 states, and a guaranteed seat on a flight that’ll get you back home in time for dinner, and access to WiFi during your three-hour wait at La Guardia?
Do you even need to ask?
No.
For $200?
No.
For $200, and a confirmed seat on a flight in three hours?
Uh…
For a free roundtrip ticket to anywhere in the 48 states?
Uh...
For a free roundtrip ticket to anywhere in the 48 states, and a guaranteed seat on a flight that’ll get you back home in time for dinner?
Uh…
For a free roundtrip ticket to anywhere in the 48 states, and a guaranteed seat on a flight that’ll get you back home in time for dinner, and access to WiFi during your three-hour wait at La Guardia?
Do you even need to ask?
Mail from across the ocean
A message from Warsaw:
[I]t's snowing often these days and today for the first time this season I heard the sound of somebody beating away at their carpet outside (trzepanie dywanu) - the ritual that's a sure sign that Christmas is on its way (heard again before Easter).
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