:) THE NON-BLOG BLOG
Many of you have asked us why we don't have a blog. Our only response is that we don't have time for it. However, you've correctly pointed out that we're already doing it via some of the "Blackberry Messages from around the world" that some of you receive.
We've decided to post the ones with the most comments received:
:: 'The Facebook'-
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Not a week goes by when someone does not ask me: ‘Why aren’t you on Facebook? You, out of all people…’ Yes, for quite a while I’ve been fighting this one. I know all the Kool Kidz are in it. I know what great tool it is to keep in touch with people you know and even those whom you just met the night before. I know it is a great way to track old flames. I know what a thrill it is to hear from someone you have not heard from in a long time. Yes, I can see how funny it is to put a ‘quirky’ picture on your profile. I know it can be fun to troll thru the friends of others and see who is hot (like most of Maria’s friends!). I also understand it is a way to protect one’s identity and reputation (Cesar) I know it’s a good way to communicate big news to a lot of people, like getting engaged (congrats Teeny and Dos). Yes, it is also a great device to share pictures with others (thank you Nissay and Eddie). Still, like a Republican in San Francisco, I’m not entirely comfortable in this area.
Yes, I was also apprehensive about the Palm Pilot (thank you for constantly reminding me of this Brian and Catalina). But as you know, I still cling to old fashioned ideas like disposable cameras, and yes, I still buy CDs (to your dismay Casey) To the former, I say there are few things as exciting as going to the local Walgreens after waiting 24 hours for the film to be processed and see which one of the 27 exposures actually made it (plus, I get to mail a copy to someone I care about while never having to worry about losing a fancy-pants digital camera). To the latter, I say it is still exciting to see which songs are going to be good in the entire album, not the single you can buy on iTunes -another passing fad of the interweb. Plus, half the excitement comes from winning the battle with the security wrap! I’m a late adaptor, but once I get into something I get into it full force and perhaps that is what I’m most afraid of, how much I’m going to get into it. Many of you have acknowledged the issues with ‘The Facebook’: ‘It is the biggest time dump.’ This is usually followed by ‘At first you’re all into it, and then you get used to it and just check it once in a while’ and by ‘once in a while’, they mean once every few hours. Also, there is the underlying factor of the number of ‘friends’ one has even if we don’t actually want to have a lot of them or some of them are frenemies! (M) To paraphrase an American King: “I dream of a day that my kids will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the number of their friends on Facebook” Part of my apprehension could also be the definition of what a ‘Friend’ is all about. This used to be who would bail me at three in the morning, until I realized that most people would come to your rescue at this time even if you haven’t spoken to them in a while. Try it. Perhaps I would be more comfortable if you had the option to select ‘Friend’, ‘Close acquaintance’, ‘Co-worker’, ‘Complete stranger’, ‘She’s dead to me’ or ‘Never liked him’. Don’t even get me started on the ‘status’ part. Who gives a $#i+! that your skinny vanilla venti latte did not have enough foam this morning?!! Or ‘Hey! Look at me! I’ve just washed my Segway!’ Seriously, with all the issues facing us, why don’t we see: ‘Sorry, I can’t view who just uploaded some pictures from their partying last night because I’m trying to find a way to help out the homeless in my city’? It was General Gao, or someone other brilliant warrior who said ‘If you can’t beat them, join them’. Maybe there is a way to create a Facebook Group for those who don’t want to be on The Facebook. In the meantime, I will get out of my comfort zone, try something I haven’t done before, and sign up. Please don’t get offended if we don’t become immediate BFFs. If you’re my friend you should know it by now. If not, you’re with the terrorists and we’ve got some work to do! |
:: Salaam Aleykum Friends-
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There's an old joke from McCain's 2000 campaign that said he wasn't milking enough his POW experience, so when asked anything he should answer the following way: "Senator, what do you think of our education system?" McCain: "We'll, as I was drinking my own pee for five years, I had a lot of time to reflect on that issue…" So, how was Tunisia? As I was laying completely flat on my First Class Suite I had a lot of time to reflect on this…(I intend to milk this one for a while). First I learned that Tunisia means 'everything runs late here' in Arabic. Planes, trains, church services, concerts…at first this is annoying, especially coming from our American time conscious way, but then one makes the '15 minute adjustment' and everything is OK. Spending Easter in a Muslim country is not easy. I had been lucky to find a Good Friday service in Tunis, but in the small town of Bizerte it was another thing. When I asked for the one church they had in town, people looked at me like I was talking to them in Esperanto. Easter Sunday I did 18,342 steps, half of these looking around the area where people suspect this church existed. No luck, but fortunately my sweet baby Jesus resurrected without my direct intervention. Tunisia is a fascinating blend of cultures, languages and traditions. Just Bizerte, a small beach town in the north, was conquered by: Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans, Vandals, Byzantines, Aghlabids, Spanish, Ottomans, French, Nazis, back to the French and finally in '63 the freedom loving people of the new Republic of Tunisia. All of them have left their mark. And lets not forget the pirates of the Barbary Coast -yes, yet another reason I decided to visit this area. The main language is Arabic, but almost everyone speaks French. In most places they guessed I was Italian so that's what we spoke. In my mind I had some Hebrew words, Spanish words of Arabic origin, French mots and then someone would want to practice their English and I would trade with some Arabic. All of these would seem to come out of my mouth at the same time. I felt like a walking Babel and there is something to be said about Esperanto after all. The Medina of Tunis had been highly recommended, it is a UNESCO World Heritage Site after all. But, I think that once you see a souk, you've seem them all. The regular markets and the malls are more interesting and give you a better sense of how people are and what they want. During a visit of the main mosque, one of the 'guides' starts telling me that there aren't too many tourists today because of the festival. What festival? The perfume festival! He wanted to show me this and a special panorama view of the old city. Of course. Fortunately I had read Paul Theraux's similar experience -described in 'The Pillars of Hercules'- where he got hussled into a special 'Berber carpet promotion' and they tried to get some money out of him. So even global explorers can get conned. I respectfully declined such a kind invitation and wandered about the medina. And by wander, I mean get lost. The lesson in all this: Sometimes you have to get lost to find yourself. Highlights: *Getting to the northernmost point of Africa by Cap Blanc. *Attending the opening night of the Festival Méditerrannéen de la Guitare (loosely translates to 'We're not Spinal Tap') and have written a non-blog blog entry on this one. *Taking five trains in one day to explore old Carthage and visit Sidi Bou Said (the Santorini of Tunisia) and La Marsa (a happening beach town). Having done another 18K steps, coming back to my hotel in a train and seeing a spectacular sunset overlooking the Mediterranean. B Overall: Marhaba al-wedke said! (Hellogoodtimes!) |
:: 20 Things I've learned about women through my car.
There's a great country song that says that "If it has tits or tires, it's going to give you trouble." For some time, I've been thinking about other things I've learned about women through my car, some are self-explanatory, but others require a bit more of an explanation. It is also worth mentioning that I have only owned two cars: 'The Blue Thunder', a trusted '95 Honda Civic that drove me cross-country and certainly my longest relationship lasting 10 years and over 100,000 miles. 'The Magnet' is a beautiful 'graphite gray' 2003 Saab 9-3.
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:: Festival Méditerrannéen de la Guitare
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On a recent visit to Tunis, we were lucky to attend the opening night of Festival Méditerrannéen de la Guitare (loosely translates to 'We're not Spinal Tap') The venue was the National Theatre right on Ave. Habib Bourguiba, the city's Champs-Elysées, a beautifully maintained Art Nuveau building from 1902.
The first performer was Anas Abid, billed as 'guitare hero-Rock'. He really was a Guitar Hero. He rocked it pretty well and did the whole 'guitare hero' thing perfectly for his young age -he's approx 19. His 'I miss you' was really good. He did such a good job that at the end the crowd asked him to play something again, this time live, because they did not believe that he was that good! He then plugged hard his MySpace page. Next was ZED. Five university aged kids, all coincidentally attired with shirts that spelled 'ZED'. Rola, female singer and only woman in the band, introduced all the songs in French, but then proceeded to sing them in English. So here she was, singing reggae and other styles in English with a French accent. They may have gone for two songs too long for the crowd, but they were still enjoyable. The final group was Samarabalouf from Paris. To explain their name requires a PhD in escargot and all things French. They were billed as 'jazz manouche'. Don't worry; we didn't know what it was either. Imagine bluegrass spiked with Maghreb magic and French flair. These two guitarists and bassist were awesome and used a bit of gypsy, rumba, jazz and other things to keep the crowd clapping. At first I thought this was one of the most random concerts ever. But all the pieces actually worked well together. Perhaps it was not a coincidence that just a few miles away was the Bardo Museum, the world's largest collection of Roman mosaics. Much like those small pieces, where individually they don't amount to much, but put together they actually create something extraordinary, so did these three performances. They brought different cultures, languages, traditions and ages together in an effortless way. This, in a nutshell is also modern Tunisia. |
:: 'The Conrad Effect' and other afflictions in Miami
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On a recent visit to Miami we experienced an incredible thing that we now call 'The Conrad Effect'. We were at the bar of the Conrad Hotel on Brickell on a Friday night -it was close to midnight. You'd expect the place to be crowded, but they had only 10 patrons. We were sitting at the bar (just two of us), but they had five people behind the bar. Ordering a drink was a game of telephone, one would ask the other, who would ask another to get us the drink! There were six waitresses hovering around. It was a contest of who could look busier. In the back they were setting up the dining room for breakfast and four people were eagerly arranging and rearranging the place sets -repeatedly.
At first it was amusing to see this, but then completely bizarre as we experienced a similar thing at Segefredo, Maison D'Azur and other places. What is going on here?
On top of that we experienced what we now call SAADD: South American Attention Deficit Disorder. It is almost a guaranteed thing to experience. You're talking to someone (waiter, concierge, etc.), you ask them a question, and right then someone else jumps in the conversation and they start dealing with them instead of you. This behavior is found in not just at bars and restaurants. We bought a shirt on Collins Ave. and as we were paying someone asked the cashier 'Hey, have you been to the Melting Pot? I'm taking my girlfriend there for Valentine's'. Well, Mr. Yelp starts chatting about every meal he's had there and forgets to take off the security tag. Guess who had to hammer it away at home, and guess who's sporting a hole on their sleeve?! (Full disclosure: We were actually perpetrators of this recently when we did not 'see' ten people waiting to pay for some t-shirts and we cut the line by simply handing our stuff to the cashier -who obviously was taking care of someone else. Fortunately a friend was with me and she told the slightly upset crowd that I always did this.) Finally, there is a cousin of SAADD, 'The Brickell Shift' (coined by Miami Mike). We Latin Americans tend to be very conscious about what is in vogue and eagerly follow trends and fashions. This also includes what is the hottest bar or restaurant. These are guaranteed to be packed the first couple of months after opening, but inevitably there will be something newer and then the whole scene moves elsewhere. It's like a school of fish moving from one place to the other. Yes, this happens in other cities, but the change is not as dramatic as we've seen in this town. We'd like to include a list of blogs from some of our Global Explorers™ and others we like: Paula Goldman's blog from her thoughts and life in London: manywaysforward.blogspot.com An incredible journey around the world on motorcycle, from Clara Lora-McCrea: motomoments.blogspot.com Cesar Amin's thoughts on Colombia and other things: cesaramin.blogspot.com |
:: MDW '07
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Hello Good Friends-
On my quest to visit all 50 states of our Great Union, I decided to visit three of the remaining five and check out Mt. Rushmore while doing so. I was half expecting it to be closed like Walley World, so I was extra happy to finally see it. It really is a special place worth the pilgrimage as it speaks not only about our great leaders, but also to the ingenuity, perseverance and drive of the average person who dreams great things and makes it happen while overcoming many obstacles. It also speaks about our Western expansion to these awesome lands. (No wonder the American Indians fought hard to keep them, but that is a different story). There is something about looking at vast endless vistas at sea, in the air or land that always lead me to introspection, or ?deeperspection?. Driving through the geographical center of the US, I wondered about what Salman Rushdie called the ?lottery of life? and what would have happened had I been born in Newell, SD? (?The Nation?s Sheep Capital?) Would you be reading this? Would the only sounds on my radio be Christian and country music with its superfecta of God, Country, booze and women? There is an elegant simplicity in the naming of some of the places I drove by: Horse Thief Ln., Crazy Woman Creek, Radio Tower Rd., Bad Route Rd. However, some names were a little off: The ?grasslands? of western North Dakota looked more like rocky-ridge lands. The ?badlands? of South Main Street in Deadwood, SD looked more like where all the hellogoodtimes really happened. (Incidentally, the town is named after the HBO show). The only thing crazy at the Crazy Horse Memorial is the crazy-talk that they are going to ever complete the world?s largest sculpture! Not all was fun, new facts and fast food: I killed a rabbit. Not with a varmint gun á la Mitt Romney, but with a Subaru Outback at 85 miles per hour. In my defense, I did try to avoid the poor little fella, but learned that swift swerving at high speeds is not advisable ?even for a graduate of the Ronin School of Driving. There could have been two road-kills that day. Being Memorial Day Weekend, I thought about our troops and all those who have made the ultimate sacrifice, be it Custer and his 200 men at Little Big Horn or the 100 troops that lost their lives in Iraq last month. Not sure about you, but I felt that I had not done enough to deserve a day off compared to what these men and women have done for us. If you did not visit a cemetery or see a parade today, you can still do something. I encourage you to visit one of these sites: www.yellowribbonfund.com www.fisherhouse.org www.dav.org |
:: The Focus Group
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So. A few months ago, a friend drags me to a City College class on making
a living by doing random things, "Get paid bowling!" was the synopsis and
I was hooked. We meet an old man who told us stories for two straight
hours on how he's managed to make a decent income doing random things like
mystery flyer (no wonder Pan Am and Eastern went out of business), movie
extra, substitute teacher, you name it, he's done it. At the end of the
class he hands out a list of focus group agencies that hire people who've
attended his class. Eagerly, I wait to recoup the cost of the class.
Months go by, and as expected, a surprise call from a focus group regarding a new mobile device. A woman says that before she can schedule me for the session (earning $150 for my valuable time) she has a few questions to ask: "Do I have a digital camera?" No. "Do I have a camera on my phone?" No. "Do I own a Tivo?" No. "A DVR?" No…A very uncomfortable feeling starts to creep in and the tone of her voice is not too helpful… In my mind I hear her say: "Do you own a color TV?"...she's probably thinking she's misdialed the idiot of an Amish village. After a few long seconds, she says: "I'm afraid you don't qualify for this focus group". She might as well have told me I had hepatitis B. Wait, that's a different story... Flash forward to this week when I'm notified that they could use me for a focus group on "never-before seen TV". 65 bucks. "Do you have eyes?" I qualify. Niiiiiice. I walk in this office and there about 50 people waiting in chairs. It has that vague feeling of a jury duty pool room/DMV wait area. You could not get a more random sampling of human beings. The bar at 'Star Wars' pales in comparison to the characters waiting. Bridgesetters, professional focus group goers, students, families, maybe a homeless person or two. What the hell am I doing here?! They take about 30 us per room where we sit on chairs, given a clipboard and hand a device called the "Perception Analyzer". Picture an old Atari joystick with a dial and a number that goes from zero to 100. We're supposed to start at 50 -neutral- and go up and down based on what we like. We're told we're here to give our thoughts on a new series on development called "Mr. and Mrs. Smith". Didn't they already make a movie with this title? Wasn't it awesome and do they really need to make a series out of it? The show starts…within three minutes I am bored. Dial down at 25. Suspend disbelief for a moment and think what would happen if Sidney from 'Alias' got married and you get the premise of the show. Mrs. Smith is a spicy little morsel and the show's saving grace. Dial at 70. Mr. Smith, an unemployed spy, is forced to play cards with the other housewives from the neighbourhood. Dial at 20. Mrs. Smith inexplicably has to go to Prague to deactivate a nuclear device. Mr. Smith suspects she might be having an affair and follows her there- by looking at her airline paper ticket! Who uses paper tickets anymore! Dial at 15. "Somewhere in Prague" looks more like "Somewhere off Melrose Ave.". Dial at 10. I'm starting to think I should pay them the $65 to let me leave now. Forgot to mention that there is a mirror behind the two TV screens so I can see the reactions from the rest of the crowd. Everyone seems to be just as bored as I am. Then of course I think we're getting Punked!. Who would come up with such a stupid idea? Mercifully the pilot episode is over. They ask us another ten questions. "1 to 10 -10 being the highest- how did you like the show?" A kid behind me whispers: "Can it get lower than 1?"…every question elicited such remarks and laughs. "Would you make time to watch this show?" I tell the girl next to me that now I really wished I had a Tivo! The people behind the mirror were probably not as amused. I hope they take our comments seriously and not air this show. Otherwise you've been warned and my 'Sunny Day Fund' has an extra $65! F |
:: Not Leaving Las Vegas
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Twice in one week, the Gods of Travel force me to change my plans. This
time, weather and Air Traffic Control did it.
I've been stuck in Las Vegas since last night on my way to Boston. But I'm fortunate, for some, the earliest they could get home was Christmas Day...three days later! It was like the last helicopter out of Saigon at most airports. Some of you that got my message from Italy should also find it amussing that I had commented on my lack of Vegas visit in some time Yes, ironic. And by lucky, I mean I'm now catching a red-eye on a middle seat at the back of the bus. Neverless, I made the most out of the stay. Saw "Bodies...The Exhibit". Two words: Fascinating. Contrary to what I thought, they are not Chinese prisoners. It takes anywhere from three weeks to a year and a half to 'polymerize' these bodies. Fact! However, I still get the feeling that these roving exhibits are like the 'Gypsy Kings' where any given night around the world you can find them playing -in more than one city! I also 'accidentally' ended up at 'Blondies' -a bar at The Aladdin. Had to confront three of my four weaknesses (blonds, booze, boobs). Felt like Superman around Kryptonite...ve-ry...weak...can't...con-ti-nue...ty-ping... I wish you better travels, Fernando |
:: A Night at the Opera
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So. Here I am in Buenos Aires. I've been told that a show at the Colon
Theatre is a must, so I bought an expensive tix to 'Boris Godunov'.
Fin del Prologo The seat is closer to the Space Station than to the stage -a sherpa, not an usher, should have shown me to my seat. This seat is designed for half a hobbit. There is a brass rail conveniently blocking most the miniscule stage. Fin Primera Parte As the opera starts, I hope thingd don't get worse...but they start yelling in Russian! A small screen above the stage translates in Spanish. Repressed memories of 'War and Peace' come to mind. Fin Segunda Parte Forgot to mention that it is unusually hot in BA. I don't want to explain the laws of natural physics right now, but heat does rise, and I feel like I'm in one of the realms of Dante's Inferno. There's something about a runaway monk -couldn't really figure it out who, since the translating billboard is about two sentences behind- but the arrival of the commisars (commie-tsars?) to the tavern hinted that someone is in trouble. I'm the one that is in trouble!!! One of the old ladies next to me whispers that there are only three hours left...(I am not making one single bit of this story up)...The fat lady sung...the curtain closed...the lights went up and the first of four 20 minute intermissions started. Pushkin smushkin. I am out of here! I descended to altitudes where supplemental oxigen are not needed, and took one of the deepest breaths of fresh air on the street. (Picture one of the freedivers from the 'Big Blue' resurfacing after breaking World record). Merciful end of Part Three. WWARD? What Would a Russian Do? Drink. So, here I am, a block away from the 'World's widest avenue' (it does take you two light changes to cross it), drowning/trying to forget on delicious Malbec. It is very hard to be alone in this town -especially in a restaurant full of people- so I decided to type this on my BBerry while my steak (como se dice cholesterol watch 2006?) arrives. From Mi Buenos Aires querido, Fernando |
:: Hello from Rome
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Hello Good Friends-
Ciao from Roma! Once again, I find myself dining in a foreign place with my usual date: my Blackberry. She's actually not that bad: doesn't mind having my paws all over her, is always ready to go and likes being very close to my "woo-woo" if you know how I clip her. In my biography, these last few months should be called: 'Around the world with my special friend'...she's a constant companion, source of endless information and lifeline to my world. Who needs real people when you've got such a great thing in front of you? This guy!!! I'm not complaining. I've had some great business meetings (ABC, Always Be Closing, for those of you who don't think you're in sales). Airfare to Europe in 'the back of the bus' U$980. Dinner overlooking Campo di Fiori U$75. Seeing Mt. Etna covered in snow and spewing ash at the same time: priceless. I've also done some galavanting, and stumbled upon "The National Museum of Pasta"...again, I'm not making any of this up. Who knew that semolina played such an integral role in our spaghetti, or that fussili could be shaped into so many forms?! Since I haven't been to Vegas in a while, I wanted to go to Venice for the weekend. Surprisingly, Alitalia is going to strike tomorrow -yes, a strike in Italy, shocking! So, I've decided to make the most of it and uncover some Rome mysteries: how can all these hot chicks walk with high heels on cobble-stones?; what did Dan Brow get wrong in 'Angels and Demons'; how can these Italians not gain any weight? Just this week, with my 'Tripple P Diet' (Pasta, Panini and Peroni) I've gained like 10lbs...or 2000 kilograms (still trying to figure out the conversions) Hope you're well, and for those that believe in my sweet baby Jesus: Buon Natale. Fernando |
:: Book review of "War and Peace"
Normally we devote this space to recommend books we've liked. However, this month we'll highlight a book that only 0.002 of the population has read: Tolstoy's War and Peace. Someone at Hellogoodtimes may have lost a bet ("Loooser has to read War and Peace and write a book report if they can't find 10 people they know who have read it"). Kindly see below:
There's a reason why people have not read War and Peace. It is 1600 pages long (Modern Library Edition) and it could have been condensed by some 1000 pages! Actually, there is more than one reason people have not read this book. Como se dice: boring? It is Melrose Place on the frozen tundra of Russia. It has as many love triangles without the sexiness - or the sex for that matter. Trying to keep track of all those counts, villages, treaties broken and official edicts can be a full time job. |
© 2008 HelloGoodTimes
"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal,
that they are endowed by their Creator
with certain inalianable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness"
-Thomas Jefferson
with certain inalianable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness"
-Thomas Jefferson