Weber on the Computer

ok, I found an amazing internet cafe very near my hostel that actually a huge gaming facility. This means several things: 1) 24-hour operation. 2) super-fast computers with loads of cool programs. 3) impossible to keep the heat down (we're talking 60+ speed-machines, that's a lot of power).

SO anyway, in addition to downloading a copy of the Jason Segel Dracula Song from Farewell Sarah Marshall (Oh sweet thunder, it's only 1:25, but I just keep repeating...), I also thought it would be fun with my spare time to make a little graphic for this website.

As you may or may not have caught, the name of this blog is a misnomer in lots of ways. The Saying, "...On the Lam" is used to describe someone who is on the run, specifically from the police or other authorities, a fugitive. Now, when a monkey repeatedly escaped from a zoo in Wisconsin (August 2007 - present), the Colbert Report picked up on it for a segment hilariously called "Monkey on the Lam."

So I decided to ride those coattails with "Weber on the Lamb" (sic), which I justified to myself would work so long as I had a graphic.

Well good news everybody, thanks the "Web Fast" cafe, such a graphic now exists. On the downer side, it won't fit into the dimensions required for page headers, so this is your one and only chance to enjoy my web neurosis and Paint skills. Ok, it's at least your last chance to see my Paint skills.

Weber (on the lamb)

Ta Da - (more) Weber in Greece

just a quick hello to everyone. 

 

Not only did I finally figure out the timer function on my camera (Look Ma, 2 hands); I also got myself a hat.  Interesting (and short) story there.

 

So I looked all over the market for a hat I liked.  I'm very picky, even when on vacation.  Finally, I saw one I liked, I payed my 8 Euros (a little steeper than the 6 I was willing to pay), and I got my hat and put it on.

 

Later that afternoon I realized that it had rips intentionally made in the top to show a red/black skull and cross bones lurking beneath the fabric.  Now I just think that's trying so hard to be cool that it's lame, so I sewed most of the gaps shut (one was too large).  It also has crossed clubs on the front- I'm working on finding a better patch to replace that.

 

So anyway, the hat is now keeping my face in shade, and my evenings occupied with sewing/improvement projects.  Next step (while I look for a patch) is to burn a hole for a small carabeaner so I can belt-clip when indoors.

 

I love small projects, hope you enjoy the snapshot.

 

Weber (on the lamb)

A Taste of Greek Democracy

actual: 29 May, 2008

so there I was, waiting with some 20 other Athenians for the bus home. It's 4 pm and the bus just isn't coming. 10 minutes, 15, 20. People look impatient, flagging down cabs. They keep asking me (in Greek) where the bus is. I neighter know, nor know how to respond except to shrug my shoulders and hope they get the idea. I'm no bus god.

Suddenly, it's not just buses that stop coming around the corner, it's everything. The taxis, the cars, even the motorbikes disappear from in front of Stygtama square. That's odd. It's a major metro station, and borders the Greek Parliament building. Then we start hearing the chanting.

It turns out, I got to witness a full-fledged Greek student protest, marching down one of the busiest streets in Athens during a Thursday rush hour. I later asked another Greek why Thursday (in Britain they love protesting on the weekend), and he told me, "people have (fun) things to do on the weekend. On week days, they get to skip school or work to go protest." He also mentioned how great Easter is, because after the official religious holidays, the city gets further paralyzed by demostraters for several days on either side of May Day (May 1).

Anyway, I was there, and more than just a passive observer. With my trusty audio recorder in hand, I followed the march as it processed around the large square, past parliament, and back to Athens University where I presume it started. It was like most other protest marches I've seen: lots of people, large banners, chanting, etc. But it had a few special, Greek features. For example, when passing the park several young men with their shirts pulled over their noses (universal sign of hoodlum-ery) took hammers to the park corners and broke off large granite chunks, then disappeared back into the crowd. The police were nearby, but stayed in formation (riot gear on) and marched parallel to protest. Then people started stepping out of line to hurl the chunks at local businesses. I don't know if this was targeted (a link between the banks/stores hit and the government), or just random vandalism (I suspect the latter), but it was odd to watch. Odd because I'm accustomed to more passive protests, which this one closely resembled, except for this small cadre of radicals (who were cheered on by the rest of the crowd).

This was too interesting to let go, so I stayed with them awhile. Unfortunately, those police stayed with us as well. Ostensibly they were keeping the protest from getting out of control, but they also served as a target for eggs, water bottles, and more rocks. I quickly realized that the worst place to be was between the cops and the protestors, so I went down a block to get ahead of the action. That got me to Athens U before the protest, and then something really weird happened.

It just stopped.

banners came down, chanting stopped, but the people just milled around. They slowly started drifting off, breaking into niches of friends and accomplices. I could tell by their demeanor that they were very happy with what they'd accomplished, and you could tell who the individual ring leaders were as they continued espousing their convictions to whatever small crowds gathered around them, but this wasn't revolutionary zeal, it was youthful self-righteousness, and I was surprised to differentiate it so easily.

Some groups tried to get the fire back, a local man in a suit (with a Greek flag lapel pin) approached the group to argue with them. That was exciting. By that time, local TV and photo crews had arrived to film this one middle-aged man arguing with a crowd of thugs. I didn't realize TV was there until I turned around, and saw all of them forming up a vanguard near the police, and me again in the middle. I casually ventured off to the side.

The argument continued, flairing up and down. The hot heads kepts approaching the man with threats and arm jestures, but some of the less radical students kept stepping in to separate them. What was funny (in a certain way) is that for all their bluster, the radicals were always the ones turned back by their peers. The man in the suit had no reason to back down. He was just talking, and he had a phalanx of police behind him if things turned violent. I'm not saying I would be doing the same in his place, or even that he was actually "safe" at all, but he played that bluff for all the chips. Finally, the argument headed rapidly in my direction, and an old woman nearby stepped in to ask the man in the suit to go home, which he did.

The students continued mulling about, no longer with any direction of what to do, and no apparent desire to get back to class. A few clashes broke out as the individual gang leaders argued over who was more effective, or some such squabble. Then it was quiet. Another afternoon on campus with smiling youth and their anti-establishment clothing.

What really struck me about it was two things: 1) I have no idea what they were protesting, but given the attitude of the other Athenians, I'm pretty sure it wasn't all that important. 2) Other than wasting time, shutting down traffic, and breaking about a dozen store-front windows, they didn't accomplish anything except to make themselves feel important.

I'm fully aware of the necessity and power of demonstration, but I'm being especially harsh here because I recognize a lot of these same motivations in myself. When things aren't the way they should be, we want to protest, we want to lash out because it feels like there is nothing we can do. But lashing out doesn't do anything either. It's a dangerous cycle in national politics, especially here where even the timid protests involve violence. On a personal level, it needs some more thinking. I'm a big fan of "fixing" things, but I'm not sure how to deal with things beyond my ability to control, especially larger social issues. I passionately feel certain things are Right or Wrong, and I make a point of being informed and having an opinion on a great variety of subjects, but what else? Often, I just ignore it. I could write my senator or join a protest organization, but what does that ever accomplish either? I'm still too young to be comfortable with my own powerlessness, so I keep ignoring these things. Well, I'm not coming up with a solution today, just something to think about.

After the protest I hit an internet cafe, and got myself all booked with travel and lodging for the week ahead. quick itinerary (posts coming) for where I am after leaving Athens:

1-4 June Thessaloniki

4-9 June Istanbul (with Jordan)

9-11 June Izmir/Selcuk/Ephesus (with Jordan)

12 June Riga, Latvia

13 June Tallinn, Estonia (start 2 week SCI youth summer camp program)

So that's where I am, what I'm up to, and where I will be.

All the best (And thanks for the patience)

Weber (on the lamb)

Life's a Beach

actual: 29 May, 2008

 

Having completed all of my "to do" list of Ancient Athens in one day (yes, I skipped some of the more obscure- but there's only so many non-descript piles of rocks you can find interesting, no matter how old or significant they are), I decided to venture outisde the city center and check out the nearby beaches.  I wanted a quick and easy trip, but everyone told me the best beaches were the furthest away from the city.  I compromised, and found a decent beach not too-far out on a train line.

 

I know what you're thinking:  "Ryan, is a beach the best place to be 12 hours after you scald yourself red?"  Answer:  not really, but hey, when in Greece...

 

Besides, I was going to be in the water most of the time... and I had a hat... and I found some sun screen (a whopping 8 SPF).  So I was good to go.

 

Beach was fun, apparently the sun is eternal in the Greek summer (I think we're at like 15 days of no more than slight clouds).  Lots of people, but enough stretch not to be crowded.  I did some swimming, I dried off, I swam some more.  Yeah, beach.  A little tough that my swim suit is apparently 2-3 sizes too big for me, but with underpants larger than most men's swimsuit and an abundance of less-than-fully clad people around, my wet sagging suit was practically puritanical.

 

Around the end of my stay (and as it started to really boil), I sat down for a beer in the shade (pictured).  To all my detractors, let me assert here that they actually did have Smirnoff Ice available, and I elected to go with the Amstel.  So there, trying new things.

 

That closed out my time on the beach, and from there I intended to zip my way back to the hostel for a much needed shower and some laundry time, but something interesting intervened....  (see next post).

 

Weber (on the lamb)

Awash in Athens

actual events:  28 May, 2008

 

I am completely infatuated with Athens.  Today has been absolutely break-neck after last nights unintentional adventures (My directions to the hostel from the airport were inaccurate.  That caused much wandering and phone calling, but eventually and awkwardly I made it to my first night in a hostel).

 

Today I woke at the crack of 10 to begin my escapades.  I did further wandering until I made it into the heart of the city center, the Plaka.  And here's where navigation in Greece gets really easy.  All the buildings are 3-5 stories high, I mean all of them, but none of them are any higher (ok, some exceptions).  Point is, when you want to go to the Acropolis, you can see it from damn near any street corner.  And since it's just there, you just walk right up to it, which I did, by way of major thoroughfairs, side streets, back alleys, and I think at least one backyard.  But I got there, made the ascent, and didn't come down for almost 4 hours.

 

I loved it up on the Acropolis.  As a classics major, sure, it was a point of interest, but there was something more.  I just felt great being up there.  Clear air, lots of wind, and tons of sunshine.  Add in the free water and restrooms located on the summit (plus a touch of shade), and what reason did I have to leave?  I went tour-hopping, bouncing between French and English tours (the latter being much more informative for me) and catching a little something different each time.  These tourguides weren't following any formula, just talking about what they knew (or even just believed).  Fun.

 

the place is marvelous, and I could keep describing it, but you get the idea.  There's a plethora of photos you can look at on-line, and probably a virtual tour somewhere.  One thing I've found fun was the contrast between the British Museum and their Elgin Marbles exhibit, and the Acropolis guides.  Sure, they're on opposing sides of the argument, but I think it's clear that both has some good points, and some weak ones.  The Brits contend that if they hadn't "rescued" the classic pieces, they would have been destroyed by vandals.  They point to some examples where this did happen.  The Greek counter that the ones they saved are in just as good (or better) condition than the British marbles.  This is because the Brits recovered them in the 1800s, and used early archeaological techniques like bleach and wire brushes to clean/maintain them.  The Greeks didn't get started on preservation until the 1930s, and apparently primitive archaeology was worse for the marble than the intervening years in the elements.

 

Anyway, fun argument to hear (vehemently) from both sides, and a good case study in my "Everyone is always right with just the proper restriction of facts" theory.

 

With the Acropolis ticket you get free entry into other archaeology sites, so I had to take advantage of that.  Hadrian's Gate, Temple of Olympic Zeus, Roman Marketplace, Ancient Agora and The largely-complete Temple of Hephaistos (a personal favorite) followed.  And that was one long day.  I stopped off in the Plaka for a Gyro and to buy a hat.  Boy was I getting sunburned!  Also had to find some sunscreen.  The hat helped my face, but my arms were looking like Lobster claws.  Oh what a tourist I am.

 

That's all for now, more updates on the other days shortly.

 

Weber (on the Lamb)

Britain's Got Talent

ok, imagine American Idol.  I know, I know, you've never watched it, right?  sure, whateve, but just try...  now, get rid of most of the singing, decrease the size of your talent pool by a factor of... I don't know, 100, and then keep Simon Cowell.  Oh yes, keep Simon.

what you get is a British TV sensation called "Britain's Got Talent," which is honest-to-god a talent show competition to see who gets to perform in front of royalty.  there is a large cash prize, so this isn't just about traditional loyalist underpinnings of the British society, and yet it's not absent either.

Here's the best part:  after 2 weeks of auditions, we're now into 1 full week of live broadcasts each night, with the winner decided by mobile call-in votes.  Want to see a half-decent Michael Jackson tribute?  How about drag queen singing?  Don't forget a dash of novelty children acts.  check.  If anything, Britain's Got Talent just helps to show how little novelty talent resides in the amateur english league.

But it does serve as a good intro.

Over the last few days I've continued journeying around London, with stops at the Tate Modern, Windsor Castle, and Shakespeare's (reconstructed) Globe Theatre.  the Tate was by far the most honest, showing a great selection of modern (and perhaps even too modern) art and performance pieces.  Honestly, I like the adventure of modern art, but 100 "musicians" standing in line and alternatively playing kazoos, eating their score sheets, and wearing the faux-tux t-shirts... well, it was mildly entertaining, but not especially enlightening - for me.

The Windsor is awesome in the true sense of the word.  It's large, imposing, opulent, and seriously ornate.  It inspires awe that it was ever built, that it wasn't razed during the civil war, and that it remains not only a regular weekend home for the royal family, but a cherished emblem of British patriotism.  What's tough is that they treat the site as both a historical location as well as living space and pep rally simultaneously.  Some rooms have been restored to their closest approximation from the 17th century (ignoring the rich history from before and after), while also (discreetly) accomodating modern comforts.  it's a compromise, and that's fair, but when each room alternates in order to represent only the periods in time in which the Crown was popular, it's easy to leave impressed, but hard to leave sans skepticism.

And that's just it.  Everyone's history has terrible bits that we're not proud of, from Japanese internment camps and the KKK to more modern problems with corruption and graft.  We don't like talking about these things, and I must admit that the British do a better job than most of mentioning, however brief, their negatives.  But the passion with which they pursue the positives, as if the good years equalize the bad, is a bit disturbing in its frenzied, almost manic, expression in every element.

So yes, after 5 days in London, I've surmised that the British love their royalty.  Shocking.

Hard to follow that revelation with anything equally ground-shaking, but let me add briefly that I did find Shakespeare's Globe to be even more entertaining that I thought I would.  It's just a building, and one that isn't even in the original location, but putting it all in context was great.  The structure (pictured above from a Gentleman's box stage left) was built in 1997 using Elizabethan technology, and the craftsmanship shows. 

I'm holding off on watching a show there until Shelley comes to London in August, but I'm getting very excited about that eventual plan.  the tour guides (who were very relaxed and knowledgeable) said something that I know I've heard many times before, but sunk in for the first time.  "In Shakespeare's day, people didn't talk about going to see a show, they talked about going to hear one."

When most companies, especially American theatre companies, put on Shakespeare, one of the first questions they tackle is setting.  Where, when, and what theme will be used.  If Romeo and Juliet, then pick a historical or fictional setting in which two families feuded, then just make the play fit through elaborate sets, props, and costumes.  Whether it's the Hatfields and McCoys spouting iambic pentameter over a Kentucky hilltop, or the epic Shakespeare in Space, these American portrayals all have their ups and downs, but ultimately they miss the whole point.  Modern reinterpertations of Shakespeare (or any theatre) do have merit, don't mark me wrong, but when most companies stage Shakespeare they focus on everything but the language, and then do whatever spectacle they can to distract the audience from this one crucial shortcoming.

but not English companies (that I've seen).  On several occasions (to be fair - usually touring), I've seen phenomenal Shakespeare performed with no pretense by a group of players on a bare stage, and I must say it's always been more rewarding.  How odd, given our national obsession with creativity and individualism, that when it comes to Shakespeare (a reference we as Americans embrace as a shared cultural treasure of english-speakers)  we cannot seem to trust our audience to imagine anything - except why Captain Oberon from the 24th century is using Cockney slang.  Yeah, that doesn't bother our suspension of disbelief one bit, so long as he's wearing some kind of metalic cape and has a green-skinned nymph nearby.

Well, enough rants.  I'm on vacation, and promise from here out to more about the continent more rapidly and spend time on this blog more judicisouly reporting what I'm doing, not just what I'm blathering about.

Thanks to the brave few who made it this far.

Weber (on the lamb)

London walks

here's a little something for everyone to mull over just in case you weren't already aware:  London is a big place.

now i don't mean it's a major city of the world, a huge population, or even a particularly impressive skyline, i assume everyone of even the slightest worldly experience is aware of that, what i mean is that the people who built this place brick by brick weren't acustomed, or perhaps even fluent, in the concept of limitations.  the only exception seems to be in their reverence for the Lord's blue sky.   Ok, ok, they have their few skyscrapers in the financial district, but it's on a par with mid-sized cities like Dallas.  For the most part, the city tops off around 5 stories, but those 5 stories strech out for miles and uninterupted miles of truly metropolitan expanse. 

This is not like NYC's fetish for height, or Tokyo's efficiency quotia, this is a very english acceptance of non-suburban sprawl.  it's urban sprawl, in the most true and accurate sense.  go as far as  you like, and it will still have tube stations, pubs,  coffeeshops, and abundant foot traffic.

ok, this is only mildly interesting, if that, but it comes into play as i spent my weekend seeing the sights of london, or to put it another way,  walking.

Don't get me wrong, London has a truly tremendous subway station.  It's clean, fast, and on-time, if not necessarily cheap.  And even with abundant tube stations around, it's still quite easy to walk ridiculous distances in the pursuit of nearby sights.

Take saturday.  my brother Duff (real name there folks) and his wife Larissa decided we should go see the sights.  I'd already spent 2 days at museums, so we elected to hit the non-museum sights.

we started walking around their neighborhood and into neighboring Chelsea.  it was lots of chic shops and questionably chic shoppers. As my brother points out, they like to spend money over here, and with no discount stores and a flaire for designer shops, it's not hard to achieve.  It's interesting because it throws American consumerism into sharp relief.  The british love spending large chunks of money on things they probably do need, but could certainly get cheaper.  Americans love saving as much per item as possible, but are equally gleefull to buy piles of junk they don't need at great expense, so long as they feel they're getting a good deal item-by-item.

So that's Chelsea.  From there it was off to WEstminster  Abbey and Parliament.  Impressive buildngs and thick history.  The meager peace protest out front (it's been steadily waning for the past 5 years) was a nice touch.

next it was to Trafalgar (for the toilets), then a refuel at Starbucks and we headed across the Thames to the Tate modern for a view of the weekend's BMX bike rally festivities.  Fun stuff.  We walked the millenium bridge to St. Paul's cathedral, then into the absolutely deserted financial district to get a closer look at the few big buildings.

we wound up at the Tower of London and accompanying tower bridge (pictured), which proved to be a good turnaround point except for one thing:  the tube was closed from there almost back to parliament.

we tried to catch a bus, or more accurately, Duff andLarissa adeptly weaved their way onto a packed double-decker, and I got squeezed off.

so off i went to get ahead of them by foot in the traffic jam.  that plan didn't work very well either, and the couple was kind enough to disembark at the next stop and join me for a long walk back along the Thames.  Once we made it home, it was time for a pub stop and some grub, and after that day, even teh blood pudding tasted decent.

so there's the narrative, my analysis of English food and their bizarre relationship with royalty (we visited Windsor Castle on Sunday) will have to wait for another day.

cheers,

Weber (on the Lamb)

the British (Museum)

over the past few days I've done a lot of walking, a decent amount of sight-seeing, and a whole lot of museum-going.    Most amazing is that despite all the time I've spent at the musuem, i've spent most of it at just one museum,  the British Museum.  As its reputation ranges from awe to infamy, I must say that it delivers on all points.  In its size, variety, quality and prestige it is a crown jewel.  I spent more than 8 hour wandering these massive halls, and especially enjoyed the Greek, Abyssinian, Egytian and Islamic galleries.    What a treasure of goodies, and what i find most interesting  is how they deal  with the modern controversy of what amounts to the holesale plunder of the cultural riches of other nations.   I mean lets face it, just because it's your empire doesn't necessarily give you the moral authority to remove enormous artifacts and monuments that have survived millenia of change.  now, to be fair, they probably did  have legal authority, according to the British law of the time, but that raises a whole new question about the legality of empire,etc.

Anyhoo, it's obviously a wonderful museum, but watching it try to deal with its own inherent conflict is fascinating, and the case of Lord Elgin's marbles are a good example.      The modern museum admits that it may have been questionable in its procurement, but at the same time it defends the actions as the best way to preserve the treasures.

Pretty tough situation to be in, but that's the cost of being an empire, not everyone likes you all the time.

my other activities all elaborated on this point, the National Portrait Gallery traces the full monarcy line, while the briefer  National Gallery just showed all the magnificent artwork collected since the middle ages. 

so yes, two full days of museum-going, tube riding, and just a few pints at the pub.  Ah London.

more reports as I get better rested and more active. 

The Flight

It occurred to me somewhere off the coast of Halifax, Nova Scotia that this was now the farthest distance I had ever been away from any location I have ever called home. Sure, I have a lot farther to go, in fact that observation came around 3 am GMT, when I was only about 1/2 way to my first of a half-dozen destinations.

Another simple illustration of my travel infancy was my seatmates on the two flights so far. Traveling to Cincinnatti the topic of convesation was my final destination, and everyone who was connecting to flights bound for Fayetteville was very impressed. contrast that with my seat companion onmy next flight, when most of the plane may not have been US citizens, and certainly all had traveled before. my seatmate was actually born in Zimbabwe, and was returning to see family now in Uganda aftter working as a nurse in minneapolis for several years. I do't know if I can fathom how large teh world is physically, but I definately know how big it is commercially. Whenever it takes 5 planes to go from point A to point B, and more than 1 of those is an overnight, your destination might as well be on another planet. You certainly won't feel human upon arrival.

As for me, the trip was pretty easy if long, and I was treated to the latest (and oddest?) pairing of the siblings Cusack. Look up "martian child" onimdb and just seefor yourself. Kudos Amanda Peets.

So what did I actually do in London on day 1? basically i just tried to stay awake. in doing so, I had a lovely walk through most of the remarkable Hyde park, saw the nearby Wellington Arch, as well as Trafalgar Square and buckingham palace. my "vegas luck" held and I happened by at the exact moment of the changing of the guard. I have long been a fan of good drill teams, precision marching, etc. but let me just say, some maneuvers make you look silly, no matter how many civilizations you repress, or how big and furry your hat is. All empires have their pomp, but when stoic soldiers skip like Red Riding hood, it loses some of that ferocious cultural imperviousness that would otherwise define this 5 o'clock whistle drill.

more from London yet to come, just watched Chelsea (adopted home team and passion for my brother and current landlord) lose the European Cup to manchester in tense last-minute penalty kicks.

Tough to watch, but it makes my cheers of "Go Spurs" all the sweeter. We're very competitive in our proxy sports.

the Gear

as in any great heroic contest, the first step is always the ceremonial process of girding the young heroe's supple loins, affixing the battle-tested armor, and usually the introduction of some mythical or historically-relevant weapon.
us
In my case, that means purchasing, fanagling, borrowing and finding all the right tech-toys, Universal cables, and various power supplies.

the resulting "package" that I'm sporting is theoretically hyper-flexible, uber-capable, and also travel-savvy. Heavy on the theory.

one further downside is that I'm having some challenges in getting all the toys to play nice together. This is my first post from "One Laptop Per Child" XO laptop, and it's great, but for the moment I can't post photos or upload audio, both of which will be a big part of this blog over the course of the summer.

so as i work on all these technical issues, get ready to depart, and cheer the Spurs on to their (potential) game 7 victory over the Hornets, I'll leave the blogosphere alone for a short while longer. by next post i'll be out of country, or at least further progressed in my arming sequence.

Girding underway.