Is this thing on....

Ok, this is more for me than anyone else, because it's been 17 days or so since I added anything, and more than a month since I added anything interesting, so I can't imagine anyone picking this up again.

The whirlwind Paris-Rome-Florence-Amsterdam trip is in the books. It's funny to be able to say, "It's nice to be back home in Manchester" since I'm really only 1 degree more comfortable here than any of those aformentioned cities.

The trip was great - we sold out every show and the crowds were real friendly. I think we'll get some bigger gigs in Paris next time we go back. And it looks like we're about to be huge in Belgium.

But, there was little internet access to be found, and even less time to use it. So, I couldn't even begin to try to write some stories about the trip while it was in progress. Piece by piece I'll upload some stories before heading to DC, where I'll have almost no internet access. My aunt doesn't have broadband, and few coffeehouses have free wi-fi, so i'm going to be on an webless island again. So, I should probablytake this chance to wish everyone a merry xmas.

But, let me throw out a few bullets while I sit here procrastinating:
- I love that all chairs outside French coffee houses face the street.
- The Louvre isn't just big, it's impressively enormous. Maybe my expectation was set low, but the thing takes up several city blocks. I don't know if you could walk through the whole thing in one day if the walls were bare and you were just looking for a restroom. Stopping to admire the art would just take all week. I didn't go in, but put it on my list of places I need to spend an 8-5 day in sometime.
- The Eiffel Tower is much more impressive at night than during the day.
- Everyone in Europe has a fake burberry scarf, umbrella or purse.
- In terms of conciously wanting to rip off tourists, there are no worse people in the world than Italians in Rome - even worse than Mexican street merchants. These are the least trustworthy people I have ever met. At least the Mexican street merchants and you have an understanding that this is a barter/haggle arrangement. For example, the italians cab drivers are just flat out liars and cheaters. Almost made me hate the whole city.
- But I love the fact that in Italy you can get a $1.00 cappucino made with cream so thick you have to eat the froth with a spoon.
- Some Florence street merchants are so congenial and funny that they are a joy to haggle with. It's great when your purchase also comes with a little entertainment rather than annoying bartering.
- There is something marvelously ironic about Amsterdam, where they have this efficient mass transit system that Seattle would be jealous of, and yet everyone is consistently stoned. Maybe Seattle's executives and politicians need to hop off the caffeine train and smoke a few joints so they can come up with some sort of logical transportation plan.

More to come as I get all packed up. Today's Sunday, and I leave Tuesday morning, so the next 36 hours are really an effort in fitting 8 suitcases full of garbage into 3 suitcases. I have a feeling some of my U.S. bought stuff is going to find a permanent home in a UK rubbish dump.

Absolutely Worthless Musings

When you are in a place that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving, and try to read Web sites from a place that does, you realize what it means to "phone it in." What a bunch of worthelss sludge made its way across the column inches of cnn.com et all. And then I realized that when there's no real news to cover, and no one to read it anyway, well you just kind of make stuff up.

And so in honor of Thanksgiving, I present useless content that has no rhyme, meaning or artisitic value.

Things about Manchester that make me smile:
- Grown men cried (I actually saw one) when former Manchester United star George Best died last week. Since I didn't understand it, they explained to me that it was like Michael Jordan dying. But if you said to them, "Well, kind of, except Jordan didn't quit at age 28, then drink himself through both his original liver and the new one they gave him," they look at you like you said the queen was a prostitute.
- However, we must give credit to Mr. Best for his legendary quote, "I spent a lot of my money on birds, booze and fast cars. The rest I just squandered."
- The girls here have accepted that its cold, and now wear leg warmers under their mini-skirts.
- I live between 2 train stops (Oxford Road and Deansgate) which are each about 300 meters in opposite directions. I have travelled by train to Edinburgh (north), York (East), London (South) and Liverpool (West) and not once has the train I needed to be on been scheduled to stop at either of these stations.
- Our apartment has a combination washer/dryer which I have dreamed about for decades. Just think how it easy this would be! You can maybe wash a pair of jeans, 2 pairs of boxers and 2 t-shirts at once, and the whole cycle takes 3 hours. And the machine locks itself shut, so there's no way to heht anything in or out unitl the process is complete. Mucking with the dials just pisses it off and it shuts down until you apologize and leave the flat.
- We had a huge Tree Lighting festival last week in the Town Square to celebrate the beginning of the Christmas season. Huge event here - kind of a poor English version of Rockefeller Square. And the celebrity guests to throw the switch were.....wait for it......the characters from Madagascar. Yes, the 90 minute Disney movie. About zoo animals lost in Africa. Connect the dots for me here.
- The same town square is now hosting the crafts fair that it does every year. Full of German food, crafts and gifts. German marketplace. In Manchester. For Chrstmas.
- If you want to get Internet access from a company that is not British Telecom, you are certainly able to. But to sign up, you have to give them your BT number. Which means in order to get a service that competes with BT, you first must be a BT customer.
- I love English TV. Some shows start at 6:20,some at 7:10 and some at 8:30. There seems to be no such thing as the half hour block.
- The big TV show here is Coronation Street, which is a half-hour drama that comes on at the randomest times during the week so I don't know how anyone watches it. And since there is no such place as Coronation Street in Manchester, as there is no Wysteria Lane in the U.S, they create the street for the opening credits. Except I swear it's a model town shot with a macro lens, just like Mister Rogers Neighborhood.

Ok, so that should be enough words to get me past my drunk editor who is probably asleep watching football anyway.

Birthdays and Thanksgiving

Ok, let's be honest. Getting lost in places you've never heard of is WAAAAAAYYYY easier to make funny than a writing papers in rainy Manchester. There are only so many ways to make fun of the people trapsing through my house every day. So once again we're going to have to combine two days into one and pretend it all happened together.

In an incredible quirk of fate, Augustin and I share the same birthday, so we threw a little gig over here at The Hacienda. People are slammed right now with school work, so we expected a nice, small affair. And it was your typical night at our flat, where a variety of countries showed up with wine bottles and a few stories. But then it differentiated itself.

My roommate Guillaume has elevated himself to the level of "Nicest human I know" without even meaning to. I wish we could clone this kid , who I already liked before. We've had a number of birthday parties this year, and they are all the same, just a reason to hang out and eat cake. No one ever gives presents. But just as Gus and I blow out the candles (a task made significantly easier when there are 2 people), here come the Chinese girls with two wrapped boxes. Guillaume had gotten everyone to pitch in and give us Manchester United and Manchester City jerseys with our names and #107, which is our flat number. In the world of unexpected nice presents, this ranks near the top for me (even if they did accidentally get the old jersey from a few years ago...)

And so it was with a feeling of international satisfacion that I awoke on Thanksgiving Day, or as the Brits tend to simply call it, "November 24." Earlier this year I met up with some other Americans, Courtney and Kimberly. They're from Virginia and Alabama, and you really don't here many southern accents out here, so they tend to stand out. Anyway, I headed over to their place to celebrate proper Thanksgiving with them and about 10 English folks.

The only problem with such a strong class full of international students is that you forget you are in England. It's like moving to Manhattan and working for the United Nations - you don't actually meet any New Yorkers. So this was really one of my first true experiences in a British flat with a roomfull of British blokes speaking real British. I gotta tell ya, I couldn't understand a bloody word they said. One on one, they sound fine. But when they all start blabbering without even bothering to mix in a consonant for variety's sake, well they're damn near unintelligble.

Of course, we Americans lose all credibility when we try to answer the simplest questions like, "How did Thanksgving start?" First off, they are puzzled why we celebrate a harvest in the beginning of winter, which is a valid point I didn't have an answer for. Then you have to run throught he whole Native American debacle and try to explain the legalities of Tribal Casinos. By the time you get through trying to explain how marshmallow yams could have possibly been around in 1621, you're ready to stick the bird on someone's head.

But the Brits thoroughly enjoyed the Thanksgiving feast Kimberly and Courtney whipped up, and I must say they did a fine job. Saturday we're hosting our own belated T-Day Saturday for the exchange class, and everyone can be thankful that I have absolutely no responsibility whatsoever. It's Dan's project and our place is simply the environment. Apparently my poor cooking skills are now so legendary, that I wasn't even made aware when dish responsibilites were being doled out. I mean, even the Canadians have responsibilities for certain entrees. But me, well I just gotta unlock the door when everyone gets here.

Unfortunately, this week is more of the same - papers, papers, papers - then I get interesting again in Paris, Rome and Florence the week after.

A Night at Old Trafford

Let's face it. If you are going to call yourself a real sports fan, and really sit down and debate sports with guys who think they know their stuff, there is a certain list of requirements you need to have accomplished in order to qualify.

For example, despite what you'll hear from people in the Pacific Northwest, you cannot make blanket statements like, "Husky Stadium is the best place to watch football" if the only places you have been are UW and Bellevue High School.

There are some events you have to see in person to make honest comparisons and some places you have to go for actual context. For example, in baseball, it's Wrigley (check), Fenway (check), Yankee, and you can maybe add Safeco and Pac Bell (check check).

But if you really want to have legs to stand on in the International scene, there are a set of stadiums worldwise that must be experienced. I know I'm leaving a bunch out, but Barcelona, Madrid, Milan, Arsenal and Liverpool spring to mind - and of course Old Trafford, the home of Manchester United.

Earlier this year, I attended a Manchester City game, and at the time I identified them as the White Sox to Man United being the Cubs. And now, that comparison still holds true. Going to a White Sox game is a good way to sepnd a Sunday morning, but going to a Cubs game is a true experience. Ditto Man City and Man United.

It's not just the history, the 66,000 people wearing red, or the constant singing. It's the entire, unreplicable atmosphere of being somewhere famous. It's that look of nostalgia that comes to a colleague's face when they say, "Oh, you've been to Old Trafford you have" just like two baseball fans reminiscing about an afternoon in the Wrigley bleachers.

And so a 0-0 tie did nothing to damper the enjoyment of landing in one of sports most hallowed fields for 90 minutes of football. There's no question I'd be a Man United season ticket holder if I lived out here. I honestly tried to go the way of "The City's team" but there's a reason Man Utd is so popular worldwide. You can't help but get chills in that stadium, listening to those fans - who according to the people next to us were a "terrible crowd." There's something you can't describe when an entire stadium spontaneously combusts into song.

(I have this argument with my good friend and US Soccer supporter all the time. When 66,000 people are singing the same song, it's cool. When 66 US soccer fans are singing all game long, it's annoying. So Sam's Army, I implore you, teach other people the songs before the game. And please, take a few minutes before launching into them consecutively like a musical AK-47 gone awry. We don't need them for 90 minutes straight.)

Although I couldn't understand one cheer from another, I swear they were singing, "Take me home Country road at some point." And if someone can explain to me how a flippin John Denver song became a staple at Manchester United football games, I'll happily buy you a beer.

So despite the fact an American owns the team now, and that it's the EPL "All-Star team" I have to tip my hat to Man United. If the Yankees had so much character, they'd be hard to root against as well.

(Unfortunately, the pictures turned out like crap - must have had the camera settings all fouled up. But here are the couple worth salvaging)

This Manchester Place is Kind of Cool

I think it was either Isaac Newton or Alan Greenspan who said that for every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction. Then by definition, by spending 4 straight weekends out of town, my knowledge of my adopted hometown is few and far between. So, thanks to a weekend full of class and dwindling back account, I finally got to spend a weekend here in Manchestah. And this really isn't a bad place.

On Sunday, we were forced out of City Centre to attend the Memorial service for Amit. There was certain Nick Hornby feel about 15 people who didn't know each other 2 months ago, taking a bus route we didn't know, wandering through a suburb we've never been, to visit a house where we didn't know anyone, to attend a service for a man we had only recently met. The only real common thread was the fact that it just didn't seem possible that someone our own age could just die in his sleep.

Earlier in the weekend, I was able to explore some other corners as well, as part of showing around a friend from Univ of Washington who was in town from Copenhagen. There's something nice about going out in groups of 15 people, but there's also something comforting about 2 friends wandering around a foreign city and telling old stories from UW, and find little places that don't need to satisfy a group en masse. It was a great excuse to duck into dive clubs playing loud music and chi-chi lounges offering overpriced drinks and the beautiful people.

The long and the short of it was simply getting to see where the non-students go in this town, and to be honest, it doesn't really look too much different than Belltown and Fremont. Some fun places in the Northern Quarter to look up if you get here are Centro, Odd, Bluu, and Night and Day. And if you have a good group and want to see a colussus dance club, check out M2.

It's hard to believe that school is in its final weeks, and everyone is kind of looking around the corner now. There's an unspoken feeling of disappointment as we see the real world trying to nudge itself out of the locked box we have it trapped in right now. So it's hurry up and panic time for a bunch of things.

Thus, I'm indulging on a birthday present tomorrow to see a Champions League match between Man Utd and Villareal. Man Utd needs the win and Villareal is on top of the group, so it should be a pretty exciting match. Plus Man Utd is fresh off the upset over Chelsea, so people are excited about them again. And I just couldn't forgive myself if I was in Manchester for 3 months without getting to Old Trafford. It's like living in New York all summer and not seeing The House that Ruth Built.

I'm becoming more and more fascinated by this $100 laptop MIT Media Labs and Nicholas Negroponte are trying to get built. In our current assignment we have to write a strategic plan detailing how Microsoft will respond. Let me know if you disagree, but we've decided they will publicly support it while going behind the scenes to absolutely destroy it through skunkworks, negative analyst reports and forcing key distributors to abandon it. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go to Google and type in "Negroponte $100 laptop Microsoft." It's a pretty interesting story.

That's all I got this weekend. Augustin and I share the same brithday (many, many years apart) so we're throwing a 70's/80's party Wednesday to celebrate Gus getting one year closer to my age (apparently, there's a loophole and if you' re in grad school AND over 30, you don't actually age.) Two weekends left in Manchester then two in Paris/Rome/Florence/Copenhagen/Amsterdam then I'm back in the States on the 20th, Seattle on the 24th. Has it really been 2 months???

A Tale of Two Cities

So, part out of laziness, and part out of a lack of creativity, I thought I'd combine Dublin and London into a single post.

The fact is that each one of these two towns are actually thriving metropolises. Dublin, as opposed to small Irish villages like Galway, is actually quite large, with a giant downtown shopping area and district called Temple Bar that rivals what used to be the French Quarter.

Temple Bar is so big and so touristy that it begs the question of whether visiting Dublin is really a representation of Ireland, or if you visit Dublin for the atmosphere of Temple Bar itself. Again, New Orleans comes to mind. For most people, a trip to New Orleans meant Borboun Street and a cheesy replica of a Paddleboat. The real New Orleans was quite different, but no tourist would enjoy the rest of what New Orleans had to offer. So I wonder if Dublin is the same way.

On Sunday night, Lisa and Pauline decided they wanted to take Dan to Gay Bingo and asked if I wanted to join. Now, I think this shows my maturity. I would have been perfectly justified if I had stared at Lisa for a moment and exclaimed loudly, "Are you flippin crackers? I'm sorry, has someone reached inside your skull, snatched your brain, and replaced it with a pint of Guinness?" But, I politely mutterred something about going to watch Irish bands. I felt bad for Dan who came over to me to me later and said, "You don't play bingo and you're straight, so I'm not sure why they thought you'd want to do that on your last night in Dublin." So, common sense seemed to prevail.

While the rest of the crew hit Gay Bingo, I ventured about 15 minutes out of downtown Dublin up to a local music venue called Whelan's, where I was soothed with the sounds of Irsh rock and rollers playing Johnny Cash. But the people were friendly in that "neighborhood out with their friends" kind of way. It made me think Dublin would be a pretty ok place to live.

Now, if you've been to London, then you know exactly how big the place really is, and I really don;t need to do any explaining. It's basically New York with older buildings, nicer taxi cab drivers and people driving on the wrong side of the road. If you've never been to New York, London or I imagine Tokyo or Hong Kong, you can't really get a sense of the scale.

We did the cheesy tourist things - Buckingham Palace, Parliament, Big Ben, the London Eye, etc...and you really feel the chasm between tourist and native. Tourists (like us) wander around without a clue, while Londoners are on guest lists at bars and plan nights out with precision so they don't waste money on excess cabs and trains. Nowhere have I ever felt so lost and hopelessly out of control of a travel situation - and we even had a great tour guide leading the way.

So I can understand why people live there and choose to stay forever. It really is an amazing mix of smart, talented people, in a city that's a 3 hour flight from EVERYWHERE, and where you can make a ridiculous salary. I definitely added it to my list of places to send resumes. It's expensive as hell, but the good news is that wherever you travel, you're getting a discount.

Here are some quick stats from the trip to London:
Citizens of London: 8 million+
Places to see: Thousands
Price of Zone 1 Daily Underground Pass: 4.70 pounds (US $8.50)
Favorite Underground Stop Names: Chalk Farm, Mornington Crescent, Elephant and Castle, Tooting Bec, Mudchute
Underground Miles Travelled: 2.6 million
Cost of Average Taxi ride: 10 pounds
Cost to get into a good club: 20 pounds
Cost to get into a bad club: 5 pounds
Amount of money we spent: Who knows?

I'll try to put more effort into the pictures, because words don't really adequately describe either city.

I'm in town this weekend for the first time in a month, so I'll try to find some funny Mancunian trouble to report on.

A Very Sad Day

It seems unbelievable to even type this, but today (Monday, 11/14) we learned that our exchange classmate Amit Gupta passed away in his bed in Manchester.

Amit was enrolled at Rotterdam Business School fulltime and a native of India. Of course, you can't really know someone that well in 2 months, but Amit seemed to be a very nice guy, 34 years old, looking forward to completing a Western MBA and return back to his wife and children.

We don't know anything further about what happenned because MBS has not released any information. Hopefully they'll tell us something soon.

But after all the joking about getting kidnapped in Latvia and other nonsense, it's a little frightening to think a guy in your class in Manchester, Seattle or just a 34 year old colleague at work could pass away in his bed. Will kind of shake you up a little.

To the side are some pictures of Amit from our trip to the camp in Dovenest at the beginning of the quarter.