Good In-tents-ions

I had to explain the concept of a "punchline" to my class today. I ended up expanding this to explaining all kinds of jokes, including puns and limericks. Since I couldn't think of a non-dirty limerick, I had to make one up on the spot.

There once was a man from Seattle
Who couldn't sit straight in his saddle
So he turned to his horse
And said "But of course"
"Why does this have to be such a battle?"

Yes, it's terrible, but pretty good for having been made up in under a minute.

As for puns, I dusted off an old one. Accounts differ to who actually said this, but a few years ago some friends and I were at the U-District Street Fair in Seattle. Street Fair is one of those stupid events where they close down the streets, cart in a couple buses of hippies and juggle sticks, and set up tents to sell stupid crap that nobody needs. While walking around, a friend said "Dude, this street fair is intense. Get it, it's in tents!"

After relating this to my students, and spelling it out on the board, I was rewarded with...blank stairs. When I asked if they understood, it became clear that they did; they just thought I was an idiot. All except my brand new student, who had her head down on the table. She was crying from laughter.

I have a new favorite student.

Jazz Bar

After much wheedling, I agreed to take some of my students to a "jazz bar". By some of them, I mean 8 promised to be there and only one showed up, the ringleader of this little shindig. Fortunately, she dragged along 2 of her friends as well. One of them couldn't speak a lick of English. My roommate deigned to meet us at the club as well, mostly because begged.

I took them to a place called the Cornelia Street Cafe, just off Bleecker Street in the West Village. I had been there for brunch before, but things looked a bit different by nightfall. I dragged them around a few block pretending I knew where I was going, until we hit Gay Street, right next to Stonewall.

The students found this quite hilarious. I should mention, by the by, that the majority of my students from this class are Korean, and found out about the school from their church, and evangelical Korean church, to be exact.

I chuckled nervously and led them on. We passed a sign for karaoke, and my student asked if we could go there later. I told them it probably wouldn't be a good idea without explaining the term "drag queen" to them.

The club, however, was surprisingly a blast. I didn't expect too much from it, but it ended up being a nice spot with decent drinks, and the music was good. Really good, in fact.

After the set, I led the students down to a restaurant that had some more music. I wasn't up to eating though, so I let them be. Turns out that venerable George Garzone, who had regaled us with tales of his learning sax from his Uncle in a pizza kitchen, had a similar idea. I haven't seen the pictures yet, but apparently he was mobbed by Koreans at that very same restaurant. What a coincidence.

Poor Charlie

This is pretty much what I do. Every morning at 6:30 I get on the subway and spend 1 1/2 hours riding to Flushing, out in northeast Queens. After teaching, I take the subway 1 1/2 hours back to Brooklyn. Then, in the evening, I take an hour ride to the Upper West Side, then an hour back. In other words, I live on the subway. I have surprisingly few interesting stories about it. I get to read a lot. I once got to hear a guy "sing" in a monotone chant about how girls loved his "sexy voice". I sure did.

Bonus points if you get the reference in this title. I'll send you a MTA Christmas ornament or something.

Return of the Rat

So, yes, I've decided to write again, thanks to the outcry from you, dear readers.

By "outcry" I mean one person mentioned it a couple of weeks ago.

Anyway, this is where I live now.










And this is the French restaurant I live above. I'm working on locating an accordion. And possibly some Godard films.
















This is Prospect Park. They have this thing called "autumn" here. It's pretty. Other than that I spend a lot of time on trains. But not the good time. The stinky, cramped subway kind. Which I guess kind of is the good kind.

The Arc de Trriomphe

I'm in France! Or, wait crap this is just Grand Army Plaza in Brooklyn. Sorry for the confusion folks. More later.

Damn Yankees

My buddy Eric flew in from San Francisco and took me to my first and last game in Yankee Stadium. There's no way I could have afforded the incredibly expensive tickets to the last homestand, so thanks to Eric for his charity. The game was set for Friday night, and after an hour of standing around in a stupid looking $5 poncho, the game was called off.














Last night we made it to the makeup game. Because of the rainout, the stadium was only half full and half the regulars were on the bench, but it was a great game. I somehow managed to check off almost everything you would want to see in your first and last game at Yankee Stadium.

Grand Slam landing in our section? Check
Appearing on the Jumbotron? Check
A Nathan's Coney Island dog? Check
A Mariano Rivera save? Check
Derek Jeter scoring the game-tying run thanks to his hustle? Check
Crazy woman behind us yelling about how she was going to "Bite Derek Jeter's ass"? Check (unfortunately)
A-Rod striking out on a called third strike in a clutch situation followed by the entire stadium booing him? Check

Apologies, Dear Readers...

I've been incommunicado.

Turns out there's not much to write about when you spend all your time job hunting.

For those of you who don't have much regular contact with me, here's the latest:

I'm finally gainfully employed. I'm teaching at 2 different private language schools. The first is in Flushing in the morning. It takes me 1 1/2 hours on the subway to get there, but the class is nice. And it pays ok. In the evening (and Saturday morning) I'm teaching on the upper west side. That job's only 1 hour away. 40 hours a week, but 5 hours a day commuting between the two jobs. That will change soon. Once I can afford my own place, I'll probably dish out the cash to get an apartment closer to the night job so that I only have to commute in the mornings.

In addition, I'm doing a little writing work for a friend (thanks Deb) and I'm just starting up some writing for a series of community newspapers under the moniker The Brooklyn Star and/or the Queens Ledger. I'll post links when I have some stuff printed.

So, them's the breaks. New York is great. Within a few weeks I'll actually have enough money to enjoy it. I spend a lot of time on the subway.

Yeah. But at least now I'll have a little time to write.

Take My Hand, It's Off To Nether-Netherland

I had been planning to write about the parakeets in Greenwood Cemetary. But Joseph O'Neill beat me to it in his latest novel "Netherland". To punish both him and you, I'm going to post an excerpt from his book, which you should all read. If you already have, read it again?

We drove through Park Slope. A plotter's grin formed on his face. We took a sharp turn, passed under a huge pair of arches, and halted at a prospect of grass and tombstones.

He had brought me to Green-Wood Cemetery.

"Look up there," Chuck said, opening his door.

He was pointing back at the entrance gate, a mass of flying buttresses and spires and quatrefoils and pointed arches that looked as if it might have been removed in the dead of night from one of Cologne Cathedral's more obscure nooks. In and around the tallest of the trio of spires were birds' nests. They were messy, elaborately twiggy affairs. One nest was situated above the clock, another higher up, above the discolored green bell that tolled, presumably, at funerals. The branches littered a stone facade crowded with sculptures of angels and incidents from the gospels: a resurrected Jesus Christ prompted Roman soldiers to cover their faces with their hands, Come forth, a second Jesus exhorted Lazarus.

"Parakeet nests", Chuck said.

I looked more carefully.

"They come out in the evening", Chuck assured me. "You see them walking around here, pecking for food". As we waited for a parrot to show he told about the other birds--American woodcocks and Chinese geese and turkey vultures and gray catbords and boat-tailed grackles--that he and his buddies had sighted among the sepulchres of Green-Wood during his birding days.

I was half-listening at best. It had turned into a freakishly transparent morning free of clouds or natural inconsonance of any sort. Huge trees grew nearby, and their leaves intercepted the sunlight very precisely, so that the shadows of the leaves seemed vital and creaturely as they stirred on the ground--an inkling of some supernature, to a sensibility open to such things.

There was still no sign of parrots. Chuck said"This is by the by. There is something else I want to show you."


That about sums it up. If you're still reading this, you get a cookie.

This is how New York makes me feel

Picture courtesy of James

The New Fero

His name is Bucky. And unlike Fero, he has a nasty temper. I'll see if I can get some video of him mauling me for no good reason.

So, Looks Like I Found A Job

FAO SCHWARZ FIFTH AVENUE SEEKS HAPPY, HELPFUL WORKERS WHO WOULD LIKE TO WORK IN THE BRAND NEW MUPPET WHATNOT WORKSHOP BEGINNING OCTOBER 2008.

WHAT'S A WHATNOT YOU SAY? WHATNOTS ARE THOSE ZANY-LOOKING EXTRAS YOU SEE IN THE MIDDLE OF EVERY MUPPET PRODUCTION!
AND FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, THE MUPPETS ARE INVITING THEIR FANS TO CREATE THEIR VERY OWN WHATNOT PUPPET, RIGHT INSIDE THE WORKSHOP AT FAO SCHWARZ.

LOYAL MUPPET FANS - AMATEUR PUPPETEERS - PUPPET COLLECTORS - HERE'S A CHANCE TO WORK IN A FUNKY, CREATIVE ENVIRONMENT HAVING SOME SERIOUS FUN.

DEMONSTRATE YOUR AMAZING ABILITIES AS YOU GREET PEOPLE, SELL GREAT STUFF AND ACTUALLY BUILD PUPPETS. CLIMB LADDERS! OPERATE A GLUE GUN! PERFORM THE BASIC SKILLS OF PUPPETEERING! NO TWO DAYS WILL EVER BE ALIKE IN THE MUPPET WHATNOT WORKSHOP!




Note: I will not be applying for this job

Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom

This is Minerva, the Roman goddess of wisdom. Some of you might know her better by her Greek name, Athena. Minerva stands at the top of the highest point in Brooklyn, known as "Battle Hill" in Green-wood Cemetery, right down the street from where I'm staying.

If you scroll down to the next picture, you might be able to make out the Statue of Liberty in the distance. Minerva is saluting the statue from Battle Hill. Some jackass tried to build an apartment building that blocked the two sisters, but thankfully somebody put a stop to that.

Now, this may be shocking, but it turns out that Battle Hill garnered its name because it was once the site of a major battle. Strange, but true. The first battle of the Revolutionary War, The Battle of Brooklyn, took place here. It is alternately known as the Battle of Long Island for those of you that give 2 craps.

During the Battle of Brooklyn, Washington, in his first military action as commander of the Continental Army, led 10,000 stout man to repulse the British invasion of New York. Unfortunately, the British had over 3 times as many soldiers and roundly kicked Washington's ass. Never fear, Americans, because our hearty commander led one of the bravest retreats in military history. According to the sign I saw, at least.

So, the goddess of Wisdom now stands in the spot to commemorate Washington getting knocked around by the British.

Somebody just confiscated my flag pin.

Many thanks to Mark for the amazing tour of the cemetery and 3/4 of the information in this post. I assure you, he presented it with much more grace and aplomb than my sarcastic, childish writing.

What Happens in Prague Stays in Prague

The view from my friends' apartment.

I could have definitely done a lot worse.

Notes from travel:

• Ryan Air just made my enemies list. They literally took every last dollar in my bank account to ship my luggage over.
• Guinness really is better in Ireland, even at the airport.
  
• Also, boxing is much better in Ireland, especially when you're watching it with gnarled old Irishmen drinking Guinness.
• No turbulence at all on my flight, but I managed to sit between two 35-year old men that needed some Ritalin. I thought there was a 5 year old kid behind me until halfway through the flight.
• "What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas" was the in-flight movie. Hi-larious. It seems that Ashton and Cameron accidentally get married in Vegas while drunk! OMG! And they're sentenced to try to make the marriage work by an wacky judge! Hilarity most definitely ensued, let me tell you. I don't want to ruin the ending, but let's just say things got a little misty. They should have called it "There Will Be Tears"
  

Tramspotting

Today has been my last day in Prague.

Last night I hung out with my Slovakian roommate, his Australian buddy, the first and only Czech golf pro (who we met at a Mexican restaurant), and a Brazilian guy, who the Australian had met the night before at a hostel in Croatia. The Brazilian fellow comes from Polish stock. His parents tried to emigrate to San Francisco, but after booking a ship to said city, they found themselves in San Francisco, Brazil by mistake and figured "what the hell..."

Today I wandered around and did my two favorite things in Prague. The first one sadly involves negotiating the droning crowds of people on the Charles Bridge. About halfway across the Valtava, it becomes quite worth it.
This is the "Bridge Band", a collection of fellows that play Dixieland on the bridge all day long most of the week. There's a trumpet, saxophone, tuba, washboard, banjo, and this old guy with a beard that mutters in Czech through an old brass megaphone. Despite the tourists, I'm a big fan of spending an afternoon sitting on the bridge in the hot sun and listening to these guys play.















My other favorite activity is riding and watching Trams. I haven't written about these before, but the streets are rife with them. In certain spots along the river you can watch Trams crossing multiple bridges, slinking their way up hills surrounding the city, or chasing the river down the banks. My favorite place to watch Trams, though, is a street in Mala Strana called Letenska. There is a building that stretches over the street and creates a tunnel, and the Trams, which barely seem to be able to navigate the space between buildings, pass through regularly. Most of the trams I catch to and from various parts of the city seem to pass through here, and it never gets old, whether I'm walking along the avenue or riding in a tram.



























It always seems a litte bit like a family theme park to me, only old, European and actually enjoyable.

You still have to stand in line, though.

Tomorrow morning I make for Dublin, and if all goes well I'll enjoy an hour or so in the city en route to New York.

Siamese Twins

Cat food or candy bar?

I still don't know. But either way I don't see how conjoined-twin cats are going to help sell a product.

New York in the NYC of Time

So it's official. I leave for New York City on Friday.

I'm sure that's a surprise to some of you, so let me summarize.

My hours at work were cut, I looked at my finances and budget, totaled the cost and process for a visa, and came to the conclusion that staying Prague would be incredibly stupid.

My choice basically came down to borrowing a great deal of money to stick around, which I might possibly not be able to pay within a year (dumb), live and work illegally in the Czech Republic (dumber) or cut and run. So I'm running.

I'm definitely not happy about it, but New York will be nice. I already have two job interviews ready to set up when I arrive. I have awesome friends there and a good support network. And it's New York for chrissake.

I'm not certain how long I'll be there, but let's just play it by ear.

As for Prague, it's a lovely city, I miss it already. I'll be trying to spend my last few days here in as grand a style as possible.

Unfortunately, because of rising prices and the new Schengen Zone regulation, it seems that Prague is no longer the welcoming city for non-EU citizens to teach English that it once was. Within a year I predict that it will no longer be possible for an American without a EU passport to teach there. That's how bad it's gotten this quickly.

So, there's the news. Expect to hear more as the week goes on.

Much love to Gabe for the assistance out of this joint, and to all in New York lookin' out for me. Or really, everyone who has been looking out for me.

Liver n' Onions

When I behaved badly as a child, my Dad would threaten us with liver and onion.

"If you don't behave, you're going to be eating live and onions for a week".

I had no idea what live and onions tasted like, but from his tone of voice I had a feeling I didn't want to find out.

This afternoon, I walked around the city a bit and ended up at my local. I was watching a Premier League game (Chelsea vs. Someone Crappy That Chelsea Tore Apart By The 15th Minute) and thought I'd have a bite to eat. I perused the badly translated English menu, and thought I'd try the first thing on the recommended list because it looked new and interesting, like something I had never tried.

I ended up with a giant, thin potato pancake, with a little cheese cooked in, folded like an omelet and filled with.....liver and onions.

Now, I saw both the words "liver" and "onions" in the description, but they didn't seem so close together. Maybe there would be some liver involved, and perhaps, on another portion of the plate, some onions would repose, but it never entered my mind that I was ordering them together.

Well, I'm in a different country, right? So I thought "what the hell" and figured it'd be good, or at least interesting.

It turns out there's a reason my dad threatened me with that dish.

Chic-Choc

Man, I've got a mean hunger for something sweet. What could possibly satisfy my craving?

Snickers?
Milky Way?
Mr. Goodbar?

The only thing that can satisfy this kind of hunger is Chic-Choc















Warning: Chic-Choc may taste like a crappy Twix bar.

I'm not kidding, this place is becoming really expensive

Bad news for chuckleheads like me. Prague is becoming much more expensive very quickly. According to this article, Prague was the 49th most expensive city to live in last year. This year it's risen to #29. It's really not that far away from New York anymore, which clocks in at #22. Prague is even more expensive than Lagos these days. Stupid Lagos.

Now I don't feel so bad for spending the last week more or less cooped up inside my apartment trying my best to avoid spending money.

That would explain the lack of fascinating blog entries. I know you've all been waiting with bated breath to hear more of my antics. Unfortunately, all you get is my whining about the cost of living.

Good news though. I start work on Monday morning, 7:30 AM. My first class will be 4 upper-intermediate students that hate participating. Their last teacher informed me that they spend a lot of time just staring at you.

At least it's only an hour.

Monday's my busy day. Two 60 minute classes and two 90 minute classes. The 90 minute ones are an hour outside of town, in podunk nowhere, nearly halfway to Pilsen.

At least I'll be making koruna, baby, mad koruna.

Goodbye to Fero and Hello to Indegestion

Little Fero left for Slovakia today....














But my sister Anne came to town.














I had a roasted knee of pork to cheer me up.














But pork knee does not cheer you up, it fucks you up.

All I can taste is pork.....

Graduation

No more stupid TEFL class for me. A weeks break and then off to work...

































For the record, we were each given a small bottle of this Czech sparkling wine. Southern Bohemia puts out some pretty decent stuff, actually.

I Got A Job

-a Chamberlain
But really, I seem to be gainfully employed in Europe, for the moment.

Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth With Money In My Hand

Many of you are familiar with city sponsered public art exhibitions. In Seattle, they had "Pigs on Parade", where artists painted paper mache pigs and set them around the city. Yesterday I stumbled upon Prague's version of that. Instead of pigs they have.....phone booths. For some reason.


















You can take a bath in this one! Kooky!

























This one is tiny!














I got sick of taking pictures of phonebooths so I took a picture of a swan.

























Um, is this supposed to be for Vampires?

























This one is filled with dirt. The hippies were not part of the installation. I think.


























Take that, capitalism!

Final Score:
Art-1
The Man-0

Pivni Pohotovost

"Dude, let's get more beers"
"But it's 3am, dude, everything's closed!"

In the U.S., those guys would be screwed,but thankfully the Czech Republic is a real country. And just to back that up, Staropramen, the 4th or 5th most popular beer in the Czech Republic, has the "Pivni Pohotovost". This translates literally to "beer emergency". 24 hours a day you can go to the Pivni Pohotovost and get beer.
Not only do they have beer in the bottle, but let's say for the sake of argument you throw a kegger and run out of beer.....what do you do? Once again, in the U.S. you're shit out of luck, but here in the civilized world, you can take care of your "beer emergency" and get a keg at any hour of the day.

Hallelujah!

Walking To Work

Down the hill by the castle and through Mala Strana, across the Charles Bridge and into the Old Town.



































































































Around here I realized I had no idea where the hell I was. The Old Town, like any Midevil city center, has a pretty confusing center, and I somehow found myself on the opposite side of town I expected to be. Ended up having to take a tram back to the city center and I was 15 minutes late to class.

Vowels Are Totally Overrated

I witnessed this word on the front page of a Czech newspaper yesterday:

"Ctrty"

Weird accent marks not included.

D-Fence

Prague is known for quite a few things. Kafka, castles, communism...

Maybe Mozart.

Possibly Prussians.

(I was reaching there)

For those of you familiar with the reformation, the counter-reformation, the 30 Years War, and European religious conflicts in general, Prague holds a central place in this part of history.(Hopefully, very few of you are aware of that.)

In that spirit, Prague is central to one of the most fun/morbid words in the English language.

I am referring, of course to "defenestration"

This word refers to the act of throwing somebody out of a window, usually as a sign of protest.

In 1483, in an act that precluded Luther's 95 Thesis, the Catholic Church burned Jan Hus, a Czech religious reformist at the stake for heresy. The citizens of Prague responded by throwing the town leader and priests out of the tallest window of the New Town Hall (Novomestka Radnice).

Let me pause to point out that Prague is old enough to have a "New Town" as well as a "New Town Hall" in 1483.

This act spawned the Hussite Wars, which more or less began the process of the reformation.

Below are the possible destinations of the defenestered.




























If you think this is the end of the nerdery, you are sorely mistaken.

When I Go Downtown, I Always Wear A Corduroy Suit

Note: Do not wear this coat in summer. Apologies to Gabe. Thanks to Deb.


I had an interview this morning. I left 45 minutes before the appointed hour and took the Metro to a part of town I had never been to, Praha 10.

Praha is Prague by the way. That's what the locals call in. Czech is "Chesky" though written in an entirely different manner.

I wasn't quite sure about the formality of the interview, but I figure looking sharp is never a bad idea, so I put on a decent shirt, some trousers, and as it has been raining the last few days and in the low 6os (albeit with serious humidity) I didn't think a blazer was a terrible idea either.

"Blazer" turns out to be an apt turn, because by the time I got out to the appropriate Metro stop, it was nearly 30 (for you uncouth yokels in the States, that's in the mid to high 80s...with humidity). This is a recurring problem for me, a complete an utter lack of ability to judge what attire would be appropriate to the weather. I maintain that this comes from living in Seattle for so long. Not until mid-July can you really count on summer weather. On the other hand, looking at the date....

Another problem I am continually having in this city (and which I am absolutely certain is not limited only to me) is my ability to judge distances on a map. Depending on the age of any given neighborhood, streets and blocks can be extremely short or unexpectedly long. I will look at a map (either a physical map or one online) and have difficulty determining whether the distance I have to walk from any given Metro station is long or short. The number of blocks seems to have absolutely no bearing on how fast one can travel. I know I'm not the only one that has this problem; most newcomers to the city have complained about it.

I carefully checked the neighborhood out on an online map, and as it was adjacent to a neighborhood I had visited earlier in the week, I more or less figured out how far I would have to walk. There were a couple of trams I could take, but I find it easier to orient myself in this city when I walk around, and I hate waiting 10 minutes for a tram to take me a 10 minute walk away.

As you might have guessed by now, the two block walk was not exactly 10 minutes. It was quite a few more meters than I had anticipated (really, do I have to translate everything for you people?) I arrived in Praha 10 with 20 minutes to spare, and ended up 2-3 minutes late to the interview, never a good sign. On top of that, I was soaked in sweat from wearing a long sleeved button up shirt and a courdoroy blazer in 30 degree heat. Quite a first impression.

The good news is that they actually seemed quite impressed and it sounds like I have the job, contingent on a test lesson I have to give on Tuesday night. It's going to a rough day....I have class for seven hours that day, which includes another lesson I have to teach, followed by my test lesson on the other side of town, followed by a private business lesson I have to give back downtown. The good news is that for the business lesson, all I have to do is help her translate Coldplay lyrics. At least I think that's good news....