Magic Jewball

Boy, Rosh Hashanah is a long holiday! I haven’t been able to post in like twelve days. Oh, I kid, but I had other excuses. I was contemplating all my sins and how to be a better person. Yes…. that was it. It’s a long process, you see. What? WHAT? OK OK, I’ve been utterly drowning in my Greece plans. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing! This might be just dandy for other people but I am the sort who has my whole holiday planned down to the bus schedule between Penzance and St. Just. (That worked a lot better for Cornwall than Greece, thus I can’t reuse it). But I’m leaving in a week and I have no idea what I’m doing other than landing on a Delta jet in Athens. Lou my Greece expert has been very patient with me and all my indecisiveness but after weeks and weeks of conversation, it comes down to this advice: “Wow, Greece is fantastic! So many great places to go! So many things to see! Too bad you don’t have time to do any of them!”

But he’s right. I really don’t have time to do all that island hopping that everyone associates so with Greece. Instead I’ll be spending time in the charming (so they say – not Lou, though, he’s never been there) city of Nafplion on the Peloponnese peninsula. Or Nafplio. Or Nauplion. It’s like they have a different alphabet over there or something. It probably has three triangles in Greek. But I’m excited! I finally picked somewhere to go, a fun, non-touristy, visually stunning base for day trips. And there’s water, I like water (I know, so rare in Greece) . But then I realized that merely picking a city doesn’t actually find you a hotel or transportation. Yadda yadda yadda, I stayed at work till ten because I had fourteen FireFox tabs open and I knew I’d never find my way back to where I was.

I’m also staying one night in Athens and these two cities seem to have opposite problems. All the reviews of Athenian hotels were like “what a dump!” and “stay far away!” whereas all the hotels in Nafplion seem to be palaces. Sadly, I don’t have a royal budget. I gave up on finding something in Nafplion for this night but I did manage to pick a hotel in Athens. It was the one whose only bad reviews were that it was near a bunch of sex shops and that prostitutes were walking around. Coming from New York I call this “local charm.”

But back to Nafplion (that’s what my Frommer’s book calls it so I’m going with that). According to people on Flickr, it looks like this.

(pic NotiX @ Flickr)

And this.

(pic feuilllu @ Flickr)

And apparently it’s famous for its gelato. Mmmm, vacation.

(pic Kristie’s NaturesPortraits @ Flickr)

Not bad! I think I will finally be able to get away from it all there. And by getting away from it all, I mean all the planning it takes to get away from it all.

Title comes from The Marx Brothers’ Cocoanuts/Why A Duck scene.

As promised, here’s my special “written in advance” post. I know I said that I didn’t really know what to write on 9/11 but I did just want to comment a little about this fascinating PBS special. I am one of those freak documentary lovers who doesn’t shy away from using the words “fascinating” and “PBS” in the same sentence. And especially when I’m about to jet off to Europe in less than two weeks (with absolutely no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing, God help me) I thought this’d be a fun topic.

Hey, remember this? It felt good to be loved. America loved New York, Europe loved America, kumbaya, my lord, kumbaya.

Well, according to this program, it isn’t really like this anymore. Who knew? It was called “The Anti-Americans (a love/hate relationship)” and canvassed the people of three representative European nations to see how they think of us these days. I imagine you just have no idea how it went. Let’s see!

Here’s a lady in France. She’s OK with New York.

Not so much on the rest of the US. Wow, it’s exciting to hear that there’s no racism in New York… or France!

Here’s a drawing a French child did when asked what came to mind when he thought of the US. He was wearing a Gap sweatshirt.

Moving right along! How was your trip to the States, nice Polish woman?

(as an aside, aren’t most people in Chicago Polish?)

This didn’t get a subtitle, because we’re in England now, and we’re supposed to be able to understand. This is a sophisticated dinner party where the gentleman on the right bemoans Americans’ self-involvement and his quote as to our imagined headline is, “International news: American man run over in Frankfurt.” Great peals of laughter from all the other guests follow.

But I don’t want to leave you with the impression that no one likes us. In fact, the Poles all seemed to like us a lot, no matter how fat we are, and the thing the program would have us believe concerns the Poles the most about Americans is that we require them to have a visa to enter the US. I am going to transcribe the text to the following video, but I highly encourage you to watch it because this guy is a natural-born comedian and the way he phrases everything was worth the price of admission. Which is nothing, because I forgot to contribute to the PBS pledge drive this year.

Those French dicks, that hate you, they go to America whenever they please. They don’t have to show no visa, they don’t have to pay for the visa, they just show their French passport – that hates you, the passport hates you! – and they enter. And they can stay 90 days, 60 days. I have to apply for the visa. I have to queue. I have to pay like hundred dollars. To get it, or to lose my hundred dollars, because some red tape and they tell me no. So French don’t fight with you in Iraq, they don’t give you their hearts, but they get the visas, free access to America. We give you everything (sniffs) and we not getting anything in return. We like a woman who you beat.

Hey, I’d sponsor this guy. He needs a place on TV, if only for that shirt. But it did make me wish I was vacationing in Poland. I’m sure it’s just as pretty as Greece. Right? Right? But here’s the truth, Zybigniew. You’re going about this all wrong. See, the more you hate us, the more we like and admire you and want to be your friend. We like a puppy who you beat.

Razorlight – America

Today was a big day in New York and I didn’t really know what to write. But then I realized, it tied in with my theme o’the week, reflection. See, tomorrow evening begins Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish holiday that marks the new year, and it’s a time when Jews look back and forward, get whiplash, then eat a lot (you might recognize that last part from ALL Jewish holidays). As part of this, I looked at my post from last year. I remember writing it in like 15 minutes because I was running to Sister1′s for the holiday (running meaning running, getting caught in train doors, sitting for a while, etc.). Last year around this time was a frenetic period in general. I didn’t really have time for reflection. This year is much calmer. So, to reflect…

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Don’t rush me! This stuff is hard. Luckily, I actually have ten days to think about it. In the meantime, I’ll explain the title of the post. Challah, as bread-lovers know, is usually in a braid shape. For Rosh Hashanah, though, it’s round symbolizing how fat we get over the holidays. Wait, no. Actually, it’s round like a crown to symbolize God as the King of Kings. But I like round because it goes back to that whole reflection thing: looking back, looking forward, as Michael Kay used to say on YES Network commercials.

This evening I braved the madhouse that is the local Kosher bakery and stood in a throng of people as such things were shouted as “Raisin! Plain! Whole Wheat with Raisin! Lady, that one’s too hot to touch. No, we won’t be making more tomorrow, they won’t get any fresher.” I finally got my round plain (I hate raisins and whole wheat weren’t ready) and took it home. A funny thing happened on the way to Rosh Hashanah, though.

I think I’ve changed a lot since last year and become a better person. Except for this. I’m going to have to work on this.

I won’t be blogging over the holiday but if I have time I’ll whip up one of those “magic advanced scheduled posts” for oooooh, let’s say, Friday. Shana tova, everyone! (that means happy new year, or, two chicks’ names).

I was sure I wouldn’t be able to use one of my favorite songs ever, Tool’s Reflection, because Tool songs are never available on download services. But I was wrong! The lullaby version is available. I know these are good because I got the Radiohead one for Baby Owen.
Tool Lullabies – Reflection

Well, the most wonderful time of the year comes to a close today and although I’m excited for the big final (go No-Djoc!) I’m really sad that it’s all over. But, as I return to the world of baseball (Yankees have done OK while I was away, huh?), my faith in humanity is restored by this clip. I post it partially in response to the person who found my site by using the search term “joba overkill.” As if! Who could get enough of Joba? Joba Joba Joba. Job-a. Jo-ba. Joba. Joooooooob-aaaaaah!

Anyway, the set-up for this is that Joba Chamberlain’s Dad is paralyzed on the left side due to polio but yet he found a way to play catch with little Joba in the backyard. This weekend he was able to see his son pitch in the major leagues for the very first time when he schlepped (is that a word they use in the heartland?) from Lincoln, Nebraska (one of the places on my all-time must visit list, I’m not kidding, but that’s a story for another time) to Kansas City to see the Yankees play the Royals. Joba, as we all know, has an ERA of zero, and here is his father’s reaction to seeing one of the Royals nearly get a hit off his son, possibly a home run, only to then see it caught on the warning track to end the inning. Phew.

Now I not only love Joba, I also love Joba’s Dad.

http://www.magicjewball.com/wp-content/uploads/2007/09/MLB%20Baseball%20-%20New%20York%20Yankees%20at%20Kansas%20City%20Royals.flv

Feeling cool? Feeling swingy? This is the song for you. Actually, this whole band is for you. I don’t even know how to classify them, really, which is bad because I’m supposed to be writing a paragraph about this song. But this I do know; when I walk down the street and this song is on my iPod I just feel a swagger I don’t normally feel. That “move aside and let the man go through” thing is something I do normally feel while walking down the street, though. You’re walking too slow, people.

Anyway, just listen to that bass beat. Uh huh, that’s what I’m talking about.

Napster:
Soul Coughing – Super Bon Bon

Streaming audio available on the iPod Song of the Week page.