Gwen took off yesterday to go back to "the States". She'll be staying in Pittsburgh and taking her boards there on Wednesday. On Monday night, she's taking her dad and step-dad to the Steelers game against the hated Ravens. I don't believe either of those men have ever been to an actual Steelers game live before - a fact which seems nuts to me because both have lived in Pittsburgh almost their entire lives and been long-standing die hard fans. (Her step-dad is a retired steel-mill worker for Christ's sake.) Regardless, Gwen bought them the tickets as a combined birthday and Christmas gift for the both of them (one of the coolest gifts ever, I might add). They're going to be about 12 rows up on the 35 yard line behind the Steeler's bench, so if you're watching MNF this week, see what you can see. (I can imagine a tenacious Gwen, all bundled up in the 20 degree weather, waving a terrible towel with such zeal that one might think that the evil Ravens were the embodiment of one George "W" Bush himself at that moment and a Steeler's victory would mean his instant impeachment...)
The highlight of my weekend came after I dropped Gwen off at the airport yesterday. It just so happened that prior to departing I loaded up the BMW's CD player with "driving friendly" music and as I sped back onto the autobahn for the one hour, fifteen minute drive home, the one and only Transformer's Soundtrack queued up. Within minutes I was rocking out and driving like a maniac to "You got the Touch", "Dare", and the rest. I didn't break my old speed record (for which I blame the thick fog), but I must have averaged like 95 mph the whole trip home, gripping the steering wheel, weaving around traffic, and envisioning that Starscream himself was in the sky above, hot on my tail and strafing the singed asphalt I'd left behind only milliseconds earlier. But in the end, I schooled him of course, delivered the "plans" safely to Optimus Prime, eventually foiled Megatron, and proved once again that: You can win if you dare.
The rest of my Saturday was pretty subdued. Other than a brief workout, I spent most of the day playing ridiculous amounts of Madden. Unfortunately, I had one of the more crushing computer defeats that I can remember. It was the NFC championship game. My 16-0 Giants had steamrolled the hapless Seahawks 63-10 in the divisional round, and were thinking pretty highly of themselves, perhaps even starting to argue about where they'd be regarded amongsth the other all-time great teams, when the next best NFC team, the 13-3 Panthers rolled into town. The Panthers were solid, of course, but nothing that the G-men, led by 2000 yard rusher and league MVP Tiki Barber and all-world tight end Jeremey Shockey couldn't handle. (Not to mention the league's best defense, number 1 against the run AND the pass, and in points allowed, and home to defensive MVP middle linebacker Antonio Pierce, record breaking sack leader (26) Michael Strahan, and three pro bowl cornerbacks in the secondary.) I mean seriously, did the Panthers even have a chance? What transpired, though, was like something out of the twilight zone. Early on the game was a grudge match. The Panther's defense proved stingy, and Eli and corps had trouble moving the ball. (I credit a computer John Fox for putting together one hell of a game plan.) On the flip side, the Panther's offense was putting up miracle plays involving all sorts of missed tackles, weird deflections, and other CRAP which led to a 17-10 Panthers lead at halftime.
Not fazed, however, I made sure that the hideously pixelated computer Tom Coughlin gave the boys a fiery half-time speech and resolved to come out in the second half and take it to 'em. Unfortunately, things didn't start out too well. The G-men got stuffed on their opening possession, then gave up a 92 yard run to Nick Fucking Goings (the third string rusher - both Foster and Davis were out). Then Eli got intercepted for 6 on the the next drive. Before I knew it, Carolina scored again on a deep pass (where all-pro Will Allen fell down) and it was 38-10 Panthers with like 3 minutes left in the third quarter (in a game with 6 minute quarters).
Resolute, I rallied my boys and started to storm back. It was sluggish, but the next drive featured FOUR successful FOURTH down conversions (the last of which was a phantom pass interference call possibly called in by a computer Paul Tagliabue to appease the vast New York market share...), the Giants pushed it in for a touchdown and had given themselves the emotional spark they needed. The defense tightened up and before I knew it I had scored again with maybe 3 minutes left in the game. Another Carolina 3 and out, another Eli touchdown (to fan favorite Shockey no less) and it's a 7 point game with about 2 minutes left. After ANOTHER Carolina three and out (and after using all three time outs) the Giants got the ball back with about 1:30 left deep in their own territory.
Eli started moving the ball downfield again, hurrying up to the line, and keeping things moving. With about 30 seconds left the G-men had worked it down to the Carolina 30 yard-line using a brilliant array of crossing patterns and sideline work. Then, the Panthers tightened up one final time. Eli made a critical mistake and took a sack on third down from the 21 yard line. With no time outs, everyone scrambled back to get set. With 2 seconds left, the ball was snapped - Eli dropped back and launched a desperate arching pass in the direction of Plaxico Burress but the Panthers had him double covered. The pass was swatted away harmlessly to the turf in the endzone as the clock hit zero and the Giants undefeated season came to a brutal halt. As computer-Shockey and computer-Eli moped off the field with their heads down, I couldn't help but feel ultimately responsible. (The lesson is: Never let a 16-0 season go to your head. It's meaningless unless you win the Madden Super Bowl.)
In disbelief, I just sat and stared at the TV for a few minutes. Then, after learning that the next week the Panthers LOST the super bowl to the 13-3 Kansas City Chiefs, (a team which I had thoroughly dismantled earlier in the regular season), I saved the game, shut off the power to the playstation, and went and fetched a beer. Oh, the heart break of Madden. I haven't had this big a loss to the Madden computer since Kerry Collins got intercepted from 5-yards out against the Rams on the final play of the NFC championship game in 2002 (trying to hit Ike Hilliard on a slant on a 4th down going for the win). I can't lie. It hurts. It hurts bad. But there's always next year.
(Interestingly enough, "next year" started this morning...)
Almost time for real football.
I'm a Sold-ja, I thout I told-ja....
So Gwen has been ordered to go to Iraq again. The details of all this are on her blog, which I've also linked to on the side.
(When reading, keep in mind that Gwen's blog was designed for our parents and other assorted family mostly, and thus it lacks some of the sass that I think it would otherwise have. Despite this, Gwen's hatred of the military comes out in flying colors, and it should prove enjoyable for those who know her. She's also one of the best writers I know.)
She's supposed to deploy in January, as of now. However, there are no orders currently, and there is a segment in the command who feel that the unit she is PROFISED (attached) to may not go at all. So it's all up in the air again. The key word, of course, is again.
I started a much longer post about my latest thoughts on being in the military, but I'm too tired to really finish it. Perhaps another time. (Here's a preview, though, being in the military EFFING SUCKS!)
In other news, the Giants had a sweet come-from-behind win on Sunday night that had me all sorts of pumped. I was watching the game at about 2 am, Monday morning, live, and doing everything I could on that last drive to keep quiet while Gwen was sleeping upstairs. Unbelievable. And as happy as I was with that, only hours earlier I was left shaking my head in disbelief when the Chargers failed to finish off the lamest team in the NFL. Oh the ups and downs of another NFL Sunday. Nothing beats it, I say.
I'm tired this week from the hospitalist call. My team is a depressing lot of mostly social cases. There's 6 people currently - 1 end-stage cancer patient, 1 drunk, 1 surly homeless guy with a debilitating stroke, 1 essentially helpless to move himself 400-pound guy, 1 morbidly depressed old German lady with a urinary tract infection, and 1 demented-as-hell old guy with nowhere to be placed (on hospital day 120) all while his dead-beat family steals his service checks and never comes to see him. Ah, to be a healer, people. Can't wait until Friday when I go off service.
Let's take this time, here at the end of the post, to review the Army Values (no shit here - there's a poster in the hallway outside my office):
Leadership
Duty
Respect
Selfless Service
Honor
Integrity
Personal Courage
As a soldier, it's my job to always keep these in mind - even when invading foreign lands solely for profit.
Out.
Hey Funboys! Mach Scnell mit mein AUTO!!!
When I moved to Germany and decided to become a Funboy, I quickly became aware that in order to properly infiltrate the greater world of Das Funboys, it was imperative that I get a car that "works it". And, to my credit, I think I've succeeded. Now, when I streak by orange-wearing Euromen with my techno blaring, they may very well think I'm one of them. (Kind of like how Diane Fossey infiltrated the realm of the gorillas.)
My sweet ride:
A BMW 740i, 1995, manual transmission, 6-speed. Roughly 200,000 Kilometers on it.
(click on each pic to enlarge)
Driving on the autobahn, as advertised, is pretty nutty at times. You can't go as fast as you want everywhere, and there are more speed limits on that road then you would think. Between large cities, out in the open, however, is where the Autobahn really gets its name. At other times, near cities, there are often long "Staus" (traffic jams) and lots of other restrictions. The speed limits may drop all the way to 80 km/hr (~48 mph) for seemingly no reason. Also, there are high-speed cameras on the road near cities which will take your picture if you're speeding and then mail you a ticket. I have gotten one of these so far, but it wasn't on the autobahn.
My car actually IS pretty sweet. BMW's handle extremely well, especially to me after driving a truck and an SUV for the previous 14 years.
My personal best with my car is 220 kph, which is roughly 132 mph. This speed is pretty ridiculous, but my car handled it like a dream. (I however, was scared to turn the wheel even a millimeter for fear of sending the car into a spiraling death crash...) I only maintained that speed for like 5 seconds, but it was pretty nutty. Now to see if I can break that record...
Other News:
-I'm starting back up on call tomorrow for another week.
-I'm officially a board-certified Internal Medicine physician. Proof that you can actually cram for and pass the ABIM exam, even while studying in a wet army tent on a rickety cot. Not that it's recommended. But it is doable.
-Speaking of the Army, I got the lucky opportunity to take another retarded Army PT Test yesterday, in 45 degree rainy weather. Awesome stuff, people. I'm telling you - if you're not already in - go see your recruiter today!
-I've updated the links on the side - check 'em out. (A personal shout out to my boy James who started up his blog last week...) There's some other stuff there I scan on a regular basis as well.
Captain Funboy out.
My sweet ride:
A BMW 740i, 1995, manual transmission, 6-speed. Roughly 200,000 Kilometers on it.
(click on each pic to enlarge)
Driving on the autobahn, as advertised, is pretty nutty at times. You can't go as fast as you want everywhere, and there are more speed limits on that road then you would think. Between large cities, out in the open, however, is where the Autobahn really gets its name. At other times, near cities, there are often long "Staus" (traffic jams) and lots of other restrictions. The speed limits may drop all the way to 80 km/hr (~48 mph) for seemingly no reason. Also, there are high-speed cameras on the road near cities which will take your picture if you're speeding and then mail you a ticket. I have gotten one of these so far, but it wasn't on the autobahn.
My car actually IS pretty sweet. BMW's handle extremely well, especially to me after driving a truck and an SUV for the previous 14 years.
My personal best with my car is 220 kph, which is roughly 132 mph. This speed is pretty ridiculous, but my car handled it like a dream. (I however, was scared to turn the wheel even a millimeter for fear of sending the car into a spiraling death crash...) I only maintained that speed for like 5 seconds, but it was pretty nutty. Now to see if I can break that record...
Other News:
-I'm starting back up on call tomorrow for another week.
-I'm officially a board-certified Internal Medicine physician. Proof that you can actually cram for and pass the ABIM exam, even while studying in a wet army tent on a rickety cot. Not that it's recommended. But it is doable.
-Speaking of the Army, I got the lucky opportunity to take another retarded Army PT Test yesterday, in 45 degree rainy weather. Awesome stuff, people. I'm telling you - if you're not already in - go see your recruiter today!
-I've updated the links on the side - check 'em out. (A personal shout out to my boy James who started up his blog last week...) There's some other stuff there I scan on a regular basis as well.
Captain Funboy out.
It's a mad, mad army....
It's been quite a week. For those not aware, here is the quick recap:
On Wednesday, after returning to work (following my sick day Tuesday), I was in the office no more than 20 minutes when my boss came into the room and shut the door behind her. (This little act, which I now have a Pavlovian-like response to, may very well leave me in the fetal position under my desk when it occurs again in the future.)
"Mike, there's been a tasking..."
And there it was. First I realized I was to be deployed. Second, I was to be deployed to Pakistan with a MASH unit for earthquake relief. Third, as the day progressed, I was told I was to leave in the next 1-2 days for up to 3 months.
You could say the floor dropped out at that point. It's this sort of near-weekly earth-shattering news that makes life in the Army Europe difficult at times. I had to see a patient immediately after learning all of this, and sadly, my mind was racing with all the other news and I ended up just going through the motions during that visit. In retrospect I'm sure the patient thought I was completely mindless, but oh well.
The next 48 hours brought about a flurry of activity. I went to "SRP" the next morning in a large gymnasium full of other Army soldiers. After standing in several lines, getting several shots, filling out several health questionaires, talking with JAG (military legal) about whether or not I wanted a will, receiving anti-malaria medication, and several other things, I held in my hand a sheet of paper with lots of check boxes on it and a final box labeled "Deployable", which was checked.
Then, I received a packing list and off I went to make sure I had all the appropriate issue gear, cold weather gear, and hundred other things that go along with being deployed "down range", or "to the field", or whatever it is the Army calls it.
Then there was the Gwendolyn angle - she was having a tough time, as I was, with the sudden-ness of the news, and we were both emotionally exhausted in a manner of hours. By late Thursday night, though, I think we were coming to peace with the news.
For one thing, going to Pakistan to help Earthquake victims is a GOOD thing, in its essence. It's a nice example of the Army using its vast resources for, as my friend Fwats put it, "pure good". Medically, it sounded intresting and noble - the kind of thing I would have no problem being a part of - helping kids and displaced folks as best we could. And it was only to be 3 months (at most) away from home. This would have been sudden but very doable. (Also, it would have pushed me down "the list" to go to Iraq in the near future, which would have been nice).
The remaining difficulty with the news was the sheer speed of its onset and the minimal time to departure. It felt impossibly fast to get ready that quickly. To pack my bags, pay the bills, set up autopay for everything, figure out fantasy football, all of it. And then, be on a plane speeding toward Pakistan with a full mobile hospital. That sense of my whole world coming to an inevitable head was nuts.
By late Thursday night, though, just as everything was settling in, and I was starting to get it all together, I received a phone call, also from my boss, stating that another doc from my clinic, an Air Force physician who spoke the Pakistani language, who was generating all sorts of command interest because the mission had, as an e-mail put it, a "critical language shortage". It looked I he was going to be switched in for me. But the swap was still up in the air. He was an Air Force doc, trying to fill an Army position. This created vast paper work difficulties, of course, but with the high European brass all behind it, it seemed doable. I was told that I would probably not go, but that I had better be ready, just in case something fell through. So I waited, most of this weekend, while talking with Fareed (the guy who actually is going), trying to see if I would remain here and go back to work on Monday, or, be on a C-130 speeding toward the Middle East in the next 24 hours.
As it turns out, the weekend now having come and gone, it looks pretty sure that I will remain. Fareed is supposed to be on a plane tonight, and the moment he leaves I will officially be off the docket for this one. Again, it's been a little emotional and very hectic, trying to figure all this out.
The lesson, as always, there is just nothing secure about being in the army, especially over here in Europe, which is so close to the front of these sorts of things. I could segue into a rant about the army here, but I'm not really pissed at the army on this one. The earthquake happened fast and thus a fast response is best. But in the context of other recent taskings and untaskings, I am definitely getting tired of the runaround and sense of unsteadiness. But again, I suppose I'm the IDIOT who signed up. (Ah to go back in time).
As it stands, the weekend is coming to a close and its almost time for football. In the meantime, it's looking mostly like things will go back to a relatively normal state. But regardless, all my shit is still in the corner of Gwen's dining room, just in case that phone rings again....
On Wednesday, after returning to work (following my sick day Tuesday), I was in the office no more than 20 minutes when my boss came into the room and shut the door behind her. (This little act, which I now have a Pavlovian-like response to, may very well leave me in the fetal position under my desk when it occurs again in the future.)
"Mike, there's been a tasking..."
And there it was. First I realized I was to be deployed. Second, I was to be deployed to Pakistan with a MASH unit for earthquake relief. Third, as the day progressed, I was told I was to leave in the next 1-2 days for up to 3 months.
You could say the floor dropped out at that point. It's this sort of near-weekly earth-shattering news that makes life in the Army Europe difficult at times. I had to see a patient immediately after learning all of this, and sadly, my mind was racing with all the other news and I ended up just going through the motions during that visit. In retrospect I'm sure the patient thought I was completely mindless, but oh well.
The next 48 hours brought about a flurry of activity. I went to "SRP" the next morning in a large gymnasium full of other Army soldiers. After standing in several lines, getting several shots, filling out several health questionaires, talking with JAG (military legal) about whether or not I wanted a will, receiving anti-malaria medication, and several other things, I held in my hand a sheet of paper with lots of check boxes on it and a final box labeled "Deployable", which was checked.
Then, I received a packing list and off I went to make sure I had all the appropriate issue gear, cold weather gear, and hundred other things that go along with being deployed "down range", or "to the field", or whatever it is the Army calls it.
Then there was the Gwendolyn angle - she was having a tough time, as I was, with the sudden-ness of the news, and we were both emotionally exhausted in a manner of hours. By late Thursday night, though, I think we were coming to peace with the news.
For one thing, going to Pakistan to help Earthquake victims is a GOOD thing, in its essence. It's a nice example of the Army using its vast resources for, as my friend Fwats put it, "pure good". Medically, it sounded intresting and noble - the kind of thing I would have no problem being a part of - helping kids and displaced folks as best we could. And it was only to be 3 months (at most) away from home. This would have been sudden but very doable. (Also, it would have pushed me down "the list" to go to Iraq in the near future, which would have been nice).
The remaining difficulty with the news was the sheer speed of its onset and the minimal time to departure. It felt impossibly fast to get ready that quickly. To pack my bags, pay the bills, set up autopay for everything, figure out fantasy football, all of it. And then, be on a plane speeding toward Pakistan with a full mobile hospital. That sense of my whole world coming to an inevitable head was nuts.
By late Thursday night, though, just as everything was settling in, and I was starting to get it all together, I received a phone call, also from my boss, stating that another doc from my clinic, an Air Force physician who spoke the Pakistani language, who was generating all sorts of command interest because the mission had, as an e-mail put it, a "critical language shortage". It looked I he was going to be switched in for me. But the swap was still up in the air. He was an Air Force doc, trying to fill an Army position. This created vast paper work difficulties, of course, but with the high European brass all behind it, it seemed doable. I was told that I would probably not go, but that I had better be ready, just in case something fell through. So I waited, most of this weekend, while talking with Fareed (the guy who actually is going), trying to see if I would remain here and go back to work on Monday, or, be on a C-130 speeding toward the Middle East in the next 24 hours.
As it turns out, the weekend now having come and gone, it looks pretty sure that I will remain. Fareed is supposed to be on a plane tonight, and the moment he leaves I will officially be off the docket for this one. Again, it's been a little emotional and very hectic, trying to figure all this out.
The lesson, as always, there is just nothing secure about being in the army, especially over here in Europe, which is so close to the front of these sorts of things. I could segue into a rant about the army here, but I'm not really pissed at the army on this one. The earthquake happened fast and thus a fast response is best. But in the context of other recent taskings and untaskings, I am definitely getting tired of the runaround and sense of unsteadiness. But again, I suppose I'm the IDIOT who signed up. (Ah to go back in time).
As it stands, the weekend is coming to a close and its almost time for football. In the meantime, it's looking mostly like things will go back to a relatively normal state. But regardless, all my shit is still in the corner of Gwen's dining room, just in case that phone rings again....
Paris
Back from France. The short story is that Paris was pretty amazing. Unfortunately, however, the weekend ended with me getting a ridiculous case of food poisioning and subsequent gastroenteritis. Luckily, the symptoms didn't hit until 3 am or so Monday morning, so by the time I got wickedly sick it was time to go home. I still feel pretty shitty, and actually had to stay home from work today (and Gwen even brought me IV fluids from the clinic). Luckily, things appear to be on the upswing, but man - shellfish can be a harsh mistress indeed.
FRIDAY
Again, Friday was a training holiday, which is some military mish-mash for a "day off". (But hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, eh?) So Gwen and I boarded a train here in K-town at about noon and started rolling east to Paris. Found this sweet billboard at the train station while waiting to leave:
We got into Paris around 5:30 pm and immediately hit the metro system up to get to our hotel. (The Paris Metro is pretty sweet, akin to other well run big city metros). We went to dinner at a hoity-toity place called Market the first night. The food was good if not great - and it certainly wasn't worth the 180 Euro price tag for a dinner for two with one bottle of wine.
After dinner, it was about 10 pm or so and we began wandering around near Champs-Elysees, which is the big main street with the Arc de Triumphe. The weather was fantastic, cool but not cold - and a little foggy. It went hand in hand with the massive amount of Parisian fashionistas on display showing off all their hip fall fashions. In fact, two things that struck me about Paris were the amount of beautiful people (mostly women, but also lots of male-modelesque, lethally cheekboned men) and the sheer level of fashion in the city. It seemed like everyone was dressed to kill. It was all very cinematic. More Pics:
Following the walk down the Champs-Elysees, Gwen and I strolled upon a movie theater that was showing "Broken Flowers" in the version originale (In English with French subtitles). Normally, we wouldn't rush off to a foreign city to go see movies, but Gwen and I have been seriously movie-starved lately. After averaging like two a week before we left the States, we've seen exactly ONE movie in the theater since arriving in Germany, and THAT was the very lackluster "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory".
So we sat in the (very) little French theater and took in the movie. I thought the US was bad, but the French theater had seriously like a full half an hour of previews and ads. There was even a little animated French boy who was some sort of French equivalent to the AMC Movie Guy, complete with his own retarded and blatantly unfunny antics.
The thing that WAS different about the French movie-going experience, however, was the amount of gratuitous nipple shots both in the previews and the ADS before the movie. It was definitely an eye opener when Monica Bellucci (of Matrix Reloaded fame) rolled onto the screen in a preview and the next thing I knew it was like watching some serious soft porn right in front of me. (This nipple-love extends deeply into french culture, actually. The French love of public titty was evident everywhere, from Magazine covers to billboards to all sorts of stuff. Let's just say that if the Super Bowl was played in France, the Janet Jackson things would NOT have been a big deal).
That being said, Gwen and I were both a bit disappointed by "Broken Flowers". It wasn't terrible, but I just didn't think it had the punch of Murray's other recent flims. The whole thing left me feeling very "meh".
SATURDAY
Saturday was tourist day for Gwendolyn and I, and we started off by hitting up the Louvre. For those who have never been, the Louvre is simply massive. It's also beautiful and very artfully designed. The exhibitions were pretty sweet. In general, I was a big fan. Plus, I couldn't stop saying "You can visit the Looouvre on one channel..." (of Cable Guy fame) over and over again until Gwen was essentially pleading for me to shut up. The highlights of the Louvre were many - the tour books point to the classics - the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, among others. There are too many to name. My favorite stuff was some of the classical sculpture - Winged Victory was especially cool.
After the Louvre, Gwen and I wandered off toward Notre Dame, which is a pretty cool gothic-style catholic cathedral. Again, impressive. And...pics:
After Notre Dame, we went back to the hotel, took a little nap, and then got up and had dinner in a really cool area of Paris called Montmartre. This is a trendy little area north of the city which had some amazing restaurants. My dinner, which is now infamous to me, was basically a bunch of shellfish, which I now realize was topped with bacteria. Luckily my symptoms didn't start until the following 24 hours, so the night was pretty sweet all things considered. After dinner we walked around a high hilltop and got some cool views of the city. There was some sort of festival going on and we mingled amongst the peeps for a while. Hell, we even stumbled on some sort of French Fun boy.
On Sunday, Gwen and I slept in and then hit up the Centre Georges Pompidou, which is a modern art museum. Following that, we hit up the Eiffel Tower. The Pompidou was a cool looking building. Inside, we saw some special exhibition on the Da Da Art movement - which was apparently some sort of rebellious anti-art movement circa World War I. To us, it amounted to a bunch of random crap - and I actually like modern art. The standing exhibit, which was called "Big Bang", was a different serious of more modern art works, and was also a much stronger exhibition.
(Mostly, I like modern art - but there is some serious CRAP out there. I mean anything that can be done in 5 minutes (like taking a urinal and mouting it on it's side) or that can be done by ME (like painting an entire 6x6 canvas dark blue and nothing else) is not anything special. Moreover, anything that requires an overly wordy and pretentions little blurb about the piece's composition, "inertness", or whatever, is hysterical to me. I may be overly critical here, but after coming out of the Louvre on Saturday and seeing genuine Michealangelo sculpture and the like and then following it up with and comparing it to some guy who drew slanted red lines on yellow paper (and nothing else), all the while feeling emblazoned by the passion of his "edginess", I must say that the latter is pretty funny to me and nearly impossible to take seriously.)
More pics coming in a minute, but that was basically it for our trip. We had a great time, before I got sick as a dog, and Paris is definitely a must-see city. On late Sunday night, my abdominal pain and diarrhea started, and the nausea and the rest followed. (Taking a 5 hour train ride with a GI illness - not fun). Last night I was at a temp of 101 with full rigors. Today, I had to stay home from work, which I hate doing, but I would have been useless. Gwen brought some IV fluids home and I already feel better after a brisk 2 Liters of normal saline. And there it is. Here are some more pics from Sunday and the rest.
FRIDAY
Again, Friday was a training holiday, which is some military mish-mash for a "day off". (But hey, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, eh?) So Gwen and I boarded a train here in K-town at about noon and started rolling east to Paris. Found this sweet billboard at the train station while waiting to leave:
We got into Paris around 5:30 pm and immediately hit the metro system up to get to our hotel. (The Paris Metro is pretty sweet, akin to other well run big city metros). We went to dinner at a hoity-toity place called Market the first night. The food was good if not great - and it certainly wasn't worth the 180 Euro price tag for a dinner for two with one bottle of wine.
After dinner, it was about 10 pm or so and we began wandering around near Champs-Elysees, which is the big main street with the Arc de Triumphe. The weather was fantastic, cool but not cold - and a little foggy. It went hand in hand with the massive amount of Parisian fashionistas on display showing off all their hip fall fashions. In fact, two things that struck me about Paris were the amount of beautiful people (mostly women, but also lots of male-modelesque, lethally cheekboned men) and the sheer level of fashion in the city. It seemed like everyone was dressed to kill. It was all very cinematic. More Pics:
Following the walk down the Champs-Elysees, Gwen and I strolled upon a movie theater that was showing "Broken Flowers" in the version originale (In English with French subtitles). Normally, we wouldn't rush off to a foreign city to go see movies, but Gwen and I have been seriously movie-starved lately. After averaging like two a week before we left the States, we've seen exactly ONE movie in the theater since arriving in Germany, and THAT was the very lackluster "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory".
So we sat in the (very) little French theater and took in the movie. I thought the US was bad, but the French theater had seriously like a full half an hour of previews and ads. There was even a little animated French boy who was some sort of French equivalent to the AMC Movie Guy, complete with his own retarded and blatantly unfunny antics.
The thing that WAS different about the French movie-going experience, however, was the amount of gratuitous nipple shots both in the previews and the ADS before the movie. It was definitely an eye opener when Monica Bellucci (of Matrix Reloaded fame) rolled onto the screen in a preview and the next thing I knew it was like watching some serious soft porn right in front of me. (This nipple-love extends deeply into french culture, actually. The French love of public titty was evident everywhere, from Magazine covers to billboards to all sorts of stuff. Let's just say that if the Super Bowl was played in France, the Janet Jackson things would NOT have been a big deal).
That being said, Gwen and I were both a bit disappointed by "Broken Flowers". It wasn't terrible, but I just didn't think it had the punch of Murray's other recent flims. The whole thing left me feeling very "meh".
SATURDAY
Saturday was tourist day for Gwendolyn and I, and we started off by hitting up the Louvre. For those who have never been, the Louvre is simply massive. It's also beautiful and very artfully designed. The exhibitions were pretty sweet. In general, I was a big fan. Plus, I couldn't stop saying "You can visit the Looouvre on one channel..." (of Cable Guy fame) over and over again until Gwen was essentially pleading for me to shut up. The highlights of the Louvre were many - the tour books point to the classics - the Mona Lisa, the Venus de Milo, among others. There are too many to name. My favorite stuff was some of the classical sculpture - Winged Victory was especially cool.
After the Louvre, Gwen and I wandered off toward Notre Dame, which is a pretty cool gothic-style catholic cathedral. Again, impressive. And...pics:
After Notre Dame, we went back to the hotel, took a little nap, and then got up and had dinner in a really cool area of Paris called Montmartre. This is a trendy little area north of the city which had some amazing restaurants. My dinner, which is now infamous to me, was basically a bunch of shellfish, which I now realize was topped with bacteria. Luckily my symptoms didn't start until the following 24 hours, so the night was pretty sweet all things considered. After dinner we walked around a high hilltop and got some cool views of the city. There was some sort of festival going on and we mingled amongst the peeps for a while. Hell, we even stumbled on some sort of French Fun boy.
On Sunday, Gwen and I slept in and then hit up the Centre Georges Pompidou, which is a modern art museum. Following that, we hit up the Eiffel Tower. The Pompidou was a cool looking building. Inside, we saw some special exhibition on the Da Da Art movement - which was apparently some sort of rebellious anti-art movement circa World War I. To us, it amounted to a bunch of random crap - and I actually like modern art. The standing exhibit, which was called "Big Bang", was a different serious of more modern art works, and was also a much stronger exhibition.
(Mostly, I like modern art - but there is some serious CRAP out there. I mean anything that can be done in 5 minutes (like taking a urinal and mouting it on it's side) or that can be done by ME (like painting an entire 6x6 canvas dark blue and nothing else) is not anything special. Moreover, anything that requires an overly wordy and pretentions little blurb about the piece's composition, "inertness", or whatever, is hysterical to me. I may be overly critical here, but after coming out of the Louvre on Saturday and seeing genuine Michealangelo sculpture and the like and then following it up with and comparing it to some guy who drew slanted red lines on yellow paper (and nothing else), all the while feeling emblazoned by the passion of his "edginess", I must say that the latter is pretty funny to me and nearly impossible to take seriously.)
More pics coming in a minute, but that was basically it for our trip. We had a great time, before I got sick as a dog, and Paris is definitely a must-see city. On late Sunday night, my abdominal pain and diarrhea started, and the nausea and the rest followed. (Taking a 5 hour train ride with a GI illness - not fun). Last night I was at a temp of 101 with full rigors. Today, I had to stay home from work, which I hate doing, but I would have been useless. Gwen brought some IV fluids home and I already feel better after a brisk 2 Liters of normal saline. And there it is. Here are some more pics from Sunday and the rest.
Discoblog - the Evolution
As you can see, this blog is sort of undergoing a little renovation. New title. New description. New comments style. New template (sort of). And most of all, perhaps, new audience. Once upon a time, back in the day, this thang' was targeted exclusively at the San Diego faithful. And only they knew about it, frankly. Now residency is over and I live in Germany - land of the funboys. And it's time for all to share. Come one, come all. Med student peeps, ex-resident colleagues, and various others. You might say that old Stup is all growns'ed up. (With one look at that moustache picture, however, you'd realize you were completely wrong, but whatever.) In any case, welcome newcomers - and enjoy my (often inane) ramblings, pictures, and the rest of it. And don't be afraid to comment.
In other news:
1) I'm officially out of credit debt for the first time in like 10+ years.
2)I officially beat "Hulk: Ultimate Destruction" on my playstation last night - that game rocked.
3)Because of Colombus Day on Monday and a (hard to explain for non-military types) training holiday this Friday, we have a 4-day weekend coming up and Gwen and I are heading to Paris. (Looks like its officially time for me to bust out the leather American Flag jacket and sock it to the Frenchies but good.)
There's no such thing as Skotchtober fest...part 2
(A couple things: Make sure you read part 1 first. Also, I hope everyone is clicking on the pics, which are actually thumbnails. In some of the pics with lots of people, there's all sort of little things in every shot (which actually get blown up quite nicely) - including hidden funboys!)
After we settled in to the table, we started ordering beers (by the STEIN!) and basically started watching the craziness around us. The tents DO have a center of attention - and that is the raised dais in the middle of the thing with a 20+ member band. Througout the day and night (we were in the tent for like 5 hours or so) the band would play multiple sets, roughly 25-45 minutes at a time, then take a 15 minute break, and then do it all again. The song list was interesting. It seemed to include many German classics (actually in German, and which we didn't know), multiple universally popular songs (to include Happy Birthday of all things, and others), and some extraneous things that made us wonder how they made the trip into German beer halls. From this last category stems the most interesting portion of the song list. We were all quite perplexed, for example, when they played (and multiple times) the John Denver song that goes "Take me home....take me home...to the place...where I belong...West Virginia.....take me home". Dude - unbelievable. What was even more nutty was that to a man EVERY person in the beer hall was singing this one - every German and tourist alike, making me think that this is some sort of crazy folk hit in Germany. I remember wondering if half the people in the place could even find West Virginia on a map. They also threw in "Living on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi at one point, which was classic. But that John Denver song - man that was surreal.
The people watching in the beer hall was second to none. Surrounded by old timers and funboys alike, the constant activity had all of our heads on swivels. During songs, between songs, the whole nine. I'm a little disappointed that my camera took so many blurry pictures. (I've found that my camera has to be perfectly still to do the job - it needs that two second time to auto focus properly when I push the button down halfway. If I rush it, as I was doing trying to catch funboys performing their varied antics at that specific second, then the pictures come out blurry. Also, whenever I give the camera to somebody else, the pictures come out blurry. Hell, maybe it's time for a new camera...) He are some of the goings on around us....some are a little blurry - but they get the point across.
Glad to see this lady out all the way from the shire....
I'm not good enough with words to describe this picture
It's like the camera was drinking too!
The food served in the tents is what you'd expect. A lot of large pretzels, but also some chicken dishes, potatoes, and other such stuff. The waitresses, whom were dressed in classic German lass apparel, were pretty quick and responsive, I must say. Our waitress was an older (say 40's) German lady who didn't take any shit from drunken idiots trying to get behind her. After she got bumped pretty harshly from behind at one point, she put down her tray of stuff on a table and promptly gave the offending funboy a solid two-handed shove. We all toasted to that.
Nearby youthful funboys enjoy the lack of a drinking age....
The beer on the left is called cola-bier, which is a 50/50 mix of cola and beer - it's very popular here. I haven't tried it yet.
Funboys everywhere..
.
Typical beer tent table
This guy posed a little too gladly - in fact looking back I should have been more frightened...
Jamie and Laurie
When songs came on it was very common for people to stand up on their benches and sing along and dance. Some people were more zealous than others in standing up. The guy behind me, for example, decided that he would stand up at the fucking drop of a hat and was on his feet more than 90% of the 5 hours we were in the damn tent. The consequence of this was that every time I turned my head around, I was staring directly into this funboy's ass. I mean - it was RIGHT there. And he was often dancing, gyrating around and shimmying his funboy hips - it was something to see alright. A little too much funboy (if that's possible). Suzanne, sitting to my right, had the same problem. Here's some documentation....
Umm, not good...
For five hours straight, I'm telling you...
Situation Critical!
All around, there were examples upon examples of funboys. Soon my criteria will be set in stone.
A prototypical funboy shoe...
And again at mid-range...
That's right - I'm not above making fun of people's clothes. Especially euro-clothes!
More pics!
This guy's dancing had a disturbing propensity to form wedgies...
Chris and I raise a glass....
Jamie keeps on drinkin'
Damn it feels good to be a funboy! (Check out the sweet painting in the background)
The only picture of our waitress, sadly blurry...
Smeagol's brother takes a leak! (Herren Pissoir - one of my favorite phrases)
We rolled out of the beer tent at about 8 pm on Saturday night. Man, was it nice to get out of there and into the fresh, smoke-free air. I think I consciously took deep breaths for like 5 minutes after we walked out. Following the tent, we were all pretty buzzed. Nobody was all that drunk, though - we took our time with the beers and generally did pretty well. Gwen and I went on some rides (see whirly picture from 2 posts ago) and just enjoyed the carnival like atmosphere. Following that, we all took off again, tired from a long day. Here are some pics of near the fest at night...
The Fest from Afar...
Cool statue...
And that's about it. We said goodbye to Jamie and the rest at their hotel room. Jamie gave us a stein (one of the many he'd stolen - I think he carted like 10 of those things back to the States on a plane the next day) and we took off for the night. Everybody was pretty tired but it was a damn fun time, I must say. Any day spent watching funboys in their element can't be bad, as far as I'm concerned. On Sunday, Gwen and I took in the breakfast again. Our train left at noon and we headed out. We got back to K-town (from here on out, my abbreviation of Kaiserslautern) around 5 pm and then settled in for a full day of NFL football. Gwen was pretty pissed when the Steelers lost to the pats, and then I was more tired than pissed when my boys lost to the Bolts (the game ended at like 6 am my time). Overall, it was still a sweet weekend. It was great to see Jamie and Laurie - we'd had so many fun times back in med school. It was cool to see Chris again as well, and meet his new lady. (And I'm glad I could share some funboy ass with her for 5 straight hours).
Oh yeah - here's two more funboys for the road:
I think this guy's on the official funboy council...
d
And of course, the biggest funboy of them all...
The end.
After we settled in to the table, we started ordering beers (by the STEIN!) and basically started watching the craziness around us. The tents DO have a center of attention - and that is the raised dais in the middle of the thing with a 20+ member band. Througout the day and night (we were in the tent for like 5 hours or so) the band would play multiple sets, roughly 25-45 minutes at a time, then take a 15 minute break, and then do it all again. The song list was interesting. It seemed to include many German classics (actually in German, and which we didn't know), multiple universally popular songs (to include Happy Birthday of all things, and others), and some extraneous things that made us wonder how they made the trip into German beer halls. From this last category stems the most interesting portion of the song list. We were all quite perplexed, for example, when they played (and multiple times) the John Denver song that goes "Take me home....take me home...to the place...where I belong...West Virginia.....take me home". Dude - unbelievable. What was even more nutty was that to a man EVERY person in the beer hall was singing this one - every German and tourist alike, making me think that this is some sort of crazy folk hit in Germany. I remember wondering if half the people in the place could even find West Virginia on a map. They also threw in "Living on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi at one point, which was classic. But that John Denver song - man that was surreal.
The people watching in the beer hall was second to none. Surrounded by old timers and funboys alike, the constant activity had all of our heads on swivels. During songs, between songs, the whole nine. I'm a little disappointed that my camera took so many blurry pictures. (I've found that my camera has to be perfectly still to do the job - it needs that two second time to auto focus properly when I push the button down halfway. If I rush it, as I was doing trying to catch funboys performing their varied antics at that specific second, then the pictures come out blurry. Also, whenever I give the camera to somebody else, the pictures come out blurry. Hell, maybe it's time for a new camera...) He are some of the goings on around us....some are a little blurry - but they get the point across.
Glad to see this lady out all the way from the shire....
I'm not good enough with words to describe this picture
It's like the camera was drinking too!
The food served in the tents is what you'd expect. A lot of large pretzels, but also some chicken dishes, potatoes, and other such stuff. The waitresses, whom were dressed in classic German lass apparel, were pretty quick and responsive, I must say. Our waitress was an older (say 40's) German lady who didn't take any shit from drunken idiots trying to get behind her. After she got bumped pretty harshly from behind at one point, she put down her tray of stuff on a table and promptly gave the offending funboy a solid two-handed shove. We all toasted to that.
Nearby youthful funboys enjoy the lack of a drinking age....
The beer on the left is called cola-bier, which is a 50/50 mix of cola and beer - it's very popular here. I haven't tried it yet.
Funboys everywhere..
.
Typical beer tent table
This guy posed a little too gladly - in fact looking back I should have been more frightened...
Jamie and Laurie
When songs came on it was very common for people to stand up on their benches and sing along and dance. Some people were more zealous than others in standing up. The guy behind me, for example, decided that he would stand up at the fucking drop of a hat and was on his feet more than 90% of the 5 hours we were in the damn tent. The consequence of this was that every time I turned my head around, I was staring directly into this funboy's ass. I mean - it was RIGHT there. And he was often dancing, gyrating around and shimmying his funboy hips - it was something to see alright. A little too much funboy (if that's possible). Suzanne, sitting to my right, had the same problem. Here's some documentation....
Umm, not good...
For five hours straight, I'm telling you...
Situation Critical!
All around, there were examples upon examples of funboys. Soon my criteria will be set in stone.
A prototypical funboy shoe...
And again at mid-range...
That's right - I'm not above making fun of people's clothes. Especially euro-clothes!
More pics!
This guy's dancing had a disturbing propensity to form wedgies...
Chris and I raise a glass....
Jamie keeps on drinkin'
Damn it feels good to be a funboy! (Check out the sweet painting in the background)
The only picture of our waitress, sadly blurry...
Smeagol's brother takes a leak! (Herren Pissoir - one of my favorite phrases)
We rolled out of the beer tent at about 8 pm on Saturday night. Man, was it nice to get out of there and into the fresh, smoke-free air. I think I consciously took deep breaths for like 5 minutes after we walked out. Following the tent, we were all pretty buzzed. Nobody was all that drunk, though - we took our time with the beers and generally did pretty well. Gwen and I went on some rides (see whirly picture from 2 posts ago) and just enjoyed the carnival like atmosphere. Following that, we all took off again, tired from a long day. Here are some pics of near the fest at night...
The Fest from Afar...
Cool statue...
And that's about it. We said goodbye to Jamie and the rest at their hotel room. Jamie gave us a stein (one of the many he'd stolen - I think he carted like 10 of those things back to the States on a plane the next day) and we took off for the night. Everybody was pretty tired but it was a damn fun time, I must say. Any day spent watching funboys in their element can't be bad, as far as I'm concerned. On Sunday, Gwen and I took in the breakfast again. Our train left at noon and we headed out. We got back to K-town (from here on out, my abbreviation of Kaiserslautern) around 5 pm and then settled in for a full day of NFL football. Gwen was pretty pissed when the Steelers lost to the pats, and then I was more tired than pissed when my boys lost to the Bolts (the game ended at like 6 am my time). Overall, it was still a sweet weekend. It was great to see Jamie and Laurie - we'd had so many fun times back in med school. It was cool to see Chris again as well, and meet his new lady. (And I'm glad I could share some funboy ass with her for 5 straight hours).
Oh yeah - here's two more funboys for the road:
I think this guy's on the official funboy council...
dAnd of course, the biggest funboy of them all...
The end.
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