Tonight, we are headed to the Beltane Fire Festival. This is what it says on our tickets:
"Semi-nudity and uninhibited behavior post 9:30 pm. Beltane takes place on a crowded hilltop and involves fire performance. Attendance at own risk."
Sounds like a winner.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
An anonymous tip led us on a desperate search for American-style pancake mix. Left temptingly on Jonmikel's blog site, the tip just begged us to move out, Marine style, and find us some buttermilk goodness. Well, ok, we're way far off from buttermilk country, but still... the thought of thick, fluffy pancakes was well worth the search. The tip mentioned that Tesco's pancake mix was similar to that of the Americans, as opposed to the crepe-stuff we've been coming across lately. No offense the French and their woosy pancakes, but we wanted thick stuff. So we set out Uptown, where there is a small Tesco that caters to the college crowd-they even have microwave popcorn!
When we got there, the only mix would find was "batter mix." Now, I don't know if this is what our buddy anon. meant when he said Tesco pancake mix, but I certainly hope not. I'm hoping that he really meant "pancake mix" and that this "batter mix" was just a silly attempt by the British to understand the true nature of the pancake/yorkshire pudding cups. The first few we fried up were just like mini-crepes. So our solution, which always seemed to work with Bisquick, was to make the batter thicker. This was not Bisquick, however, but Tesco "batter mix" and thickening the batter just made the pancakes feel much like a tire when chewing. So we slathered them in maple-flavored goo and bacon. Seemed to work.
Aha! Status update on the pancake search: the Tesco website lists something called pancake mix that is NOT what we bought; in fact, this product is sold in one of those convenient shake-and-pour bottles, you know, handy for camping, just add water and all that. Perhaps this is what our buddy anon. meant.... hmmmmmm.
When we got there, the only mix would find was "batter mix." Now, I don't know if this is what our buddy anon. meant when he said Tesco pancake mix, but I certainly hope not. I'm hoping that he really meant "pancake mix" and that this "batter mix" was just a silly attempt by the British to understand the true nature of the pancake/yorkshire pudding cups. The first few we fried up were just like mini-crepes. So our solution, which always seemed to work with Bisquick, was to make the batter thicker. This was not Bisquick, however, but Tesco "batter mix" and thickening the batter just made the pancakes feel much like a tire when chewing. So we slathered them in maple-flavored goo and bacon. Seemed to work.
Aha! Status update on the pancake search: the Tesco website lists something called pancake mix that is NOT what we bought; in fact, this product is sold in one of those convenient shake-and-pour bottles, you know, handy for camping, just add water and all that. Perhaps this is what our buddy anon. meant.... hmmmmmm.
Monday, April 21, 2008
License to Watch
We don't have a TV.
We used to get shocked laughs in the States, you know, the kind where people allow a shrill chuckling bubble out before stopping it upon the realization that you might not be kidding... followed reliably by either "Wow, how do you do it?" or "Good for you. Americans watch too much TV anyway." But we never really missed it. Battlestar Galactica and Star Trek were all on DVD, so we watched when we felt like it or when it was well over the tolerable hiking ability-heat ratio (it was well over 100 degrees for a good chunk of the Yellowstone summer 2007). When there are rivers and mountains in your backyard, it's hard to justify wasting money on cable. It's even harder when you consider that half the people you know in Gardiner-the world's most over-educated city-have actually BEEN in documentaries. So well... we never got one.
We thought the reactions in the States were bad. Here, upon informing a Brit that you don't have a TV nor do you intend on getting one, the immediate response is to adopt the traditional anti-zombie attack pose-you know the one, Mile Jovovich does it all the time. Wide, wary eyes, slightly bent knees, twitchy trigger fingers, backing away slowly and ready to leap to safety at any moment. Yeah, that one. Obviously, you cannot be human without a TV. They skip feeling sorry for you and slide right into Cylon Alert, level orange. Which brings me to TV licenses. It's more evidence that people take TV watching seriously. A TV license is how the British government keeps all channels running along the PBS model of television viewing: keeping real commercials down to a minimum so as to make room for infomercials about how drinking and driving kills babies and why you should not cheat on your TV license. To get the real, nitty-gritty and often down right inane (one involving Prom, Dr. Pepper and Dad trying to beat boyfriend at an impromptu wrestling match in the living room with the motto "What's the worst that could happen?" comes to mind...) British commercials, you have to go to the movie theater. Never having a TV here to being with, we were pretty shocked to get the letter informing us that they were going to fine us 10,000 pounds because we hadn't bought a TV license. We call them up, and they, too, seem downright horrified that we don't have a TV. They sound incredulous, and keep giving us the option to let go of our obviously criminal denial and get a license. Not having a TV is the epitome of un-British, as far as I can tell. You can even hate football and rugby, as long as you watch silly British shows.
You know what the oddest thing is? We actually WATCH more TV now than we ever have, thanks to the beauty of online video streaming-legal, of course! Most main US channels are putting their shows online, so we can get Family Guy, Battlestar Galactica, South Park... Lost, well, we're having some issues with, but I'm sure it will be forthcoming! So, here's to free online TV and VPNs!
We used to get shocked laughs in the States, you know, the kind where people allow a shrill chuckling bubble out before stopping it upon the realization that you might not be kidding... followed reliably by either "Wow, how do you do it?" or "Good for you. Americans watch too much TV anyway." But we never really missed it. Battlestar Galactica and Star Trek were all on DVD, so we watched when we felt like it or when it was well over the tolerable hiking ability-heat ratio (it was well over 100 degrees for a good chunk of the Yellowstone summer 2007). When there are rivers and mountains in your backyard, it's hard to justify wasting money on cable. It's even harder when you consider that half the people you know in Gardiner-the world's most over-educated city-have actually BEEN in documentaries. So well... we never got one.
We thought the reactions in the States were bad. Here, upon informing a Brit that you don't have a TV nor do you intend on getting one, the immediate response is to adopt the traditional anti-zombie attack pose-you know the one, Mile Jovovich does it all the time. Wide, wary eyes, slightly bent knees, twitchy trigger fingers, backing away slowly and ready to leap to safety at any moment. Yeah, that one. Obviously, you cannot be human without a TV. They skip feeling sorry for you and slide right into Cylon Alert, level orange. Which brings me to TV licenses. It's more evidence that people take TV watching seriously. A TV license is how the British government keeps all channels running along the PBS model of television viewing: keeping real commercials down to a minimum so as to make room for infomercials about how drinking and driving kills babies and why you should not cheat on your TV license. To get the real, nitty-gritty and often down right inane (one involving Prom, Dr. Pepper and Dad trying to beat boyfriend at an impromptu wrestling match in the living room with the motto "What's the worst that could happen?" comes to mind...) British commercials, you have to go to the movie theater. Never having a TV here to being with, we were pretty shocked to get the letter informing us that they were going to fine us 10,000 pounds because we hadn't bought a TV license. We call them up, and they, too, seem downright horrified that we don't have a TV. They sound incredulous, and keep giving us the option to let go of our obviously criminal denial and get a license. Not having a TV is the epitome of un-British, as far as I can tell. You can even hate football and rugby, as long as you watch silly British shows.
You know what the oddest thing is? We actually WATCH more TV now than we ever have, thanks to the beauty of online video streaming-legal, of course! Most main US channels are putting their shows online, so we can get Family Guy, Battlestar Galactica, South Park... Lost, well, we're having some issues with, but I'm sure it will be forthcoming! So, here's to free online TV and VPNs!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Beer
Lesson learned today: do NOT forget that the beer in is the freezer.
Also, I watched a fantastically funny episode of South Park that was actually prevented from ever airing again after its premier; it was on Scientology. I have to admit, I, too, think Scientologists are a mite crazy, with all the space aliens and such. But their behavior is at worst really annoying. At least they don't go around killing people for not believing like they do, which is something that cannot be said for ANY of the major, and most of the minor, world religions. Though I do think it's sad that we can air as many shows as we want insulting Muslims, but as soon as one insults Scientologists, who nobody like anyway, airs, they have to pull it from the channels. How bogus is that? A show that insults everybody should not be censored for one group; equality is of the utmost importance here.
Censorship is for Cylons.
Also, I watched a fantastically funny episode of South Park that was actually prevented from ever airing again after its premier; it was on Scientology. I have to admit, I, too, think Scientologists are a mite crazy, with all the space aliens and such. But their behavior is at worst really annoying. At least they don't go around killing people for not believing like they do, which is something that cannot be said for ANY of the major, and most of the minor, world religions. Though I do think it's sad that we can air as many shows as we want insulting Muslims, but as soon as one insults Scientologists, who nobody like anyway, airs, they have to pull it from the channels. How bogus is that? A show that insults everybody should not be censored for one group; equality is of the utmost importance here.
Censorship is for Cylons.
Friday, April 18, 2008
The Days are Getting Longer
I've been in an Alaskan summer, where the sun never dips fully below the horizon, settling instead on a dusky midnight-Ancorage-or not settling at all-Barrow. I've been in an Norwegian Arctic winter, where twilight marks noon and drinking all day becomes the winter way of dealing with perpetual night.
What amazes me about being here in Scotland is that the transition between the two seems to happen overnight. Just last week I swear I never managed to leave the flat during daylight hours, always managing instead to meander out in mid-afternoon for class. Back when it got dark at 4. Yesterday, though, the orangey borders of cloud and sky still lacerated on the horizon at 9pm. Days seem to get longer in half-hour increments around here, daring you stay awake longer in the face of waning daylight. It tricks you, too, into thinking that you've been up for days by the time you flop into bed.
I would also like to say with feeling: I miss proper seasons.
What amazes me about being here in Scotland is that the transition between the two seems to happen overnight. Just last week I swear I never managed to leave the flat during daylight hours, always managing instead to meander out in mid-afternoon for class. Back when it got dark at 4. Yesterday, though, the orangey borders of cloud and sky still lacerated on the horizon at 9pm. Days seem to get longer in half-hour increments around here, daring you stay awake longer in the face of waning daylight. It tricks you, too, into thinking that you've been up for days by the time you flop into bed.
I would also like to say with feeling: I miss proper seasons.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Art Deco and H. Sapiens
First of all, I would like to say that I have decided that "Art Deco" is really a euphemism for "Ugly and concrete, but old enough to be important, so we should call it something trendy." I mean really.
Also, I've decided I want to have children if only because I want to do all the things I miss but can't really do as an adult, like watching Disney movies, playing on high-tech playgrounds, and going to Children's Zoos. Tangentially related, we wandered out into the rain yesterday (it was sunny when we left, but I said the "zoo" word, and the suddenly the heavens drowned us for the blasphemy) to the Sheep Heid Inn in Duddingston, the oldest Public House in Scotland, dating from the mid-1300s. How's that for old? Someone has been getting drunk in that spot for over 700 years. Inside they have a collection of books of varying ages, and one old encyclopedia had this great little family tree of Homo sapiens. I heard once that these things existed (the book was from sometime after the Korean War in 1953 but before Alaska became a state in 1959-all this we figured out from the list of international flags in the book), but have never actually seen one: it had the "5 Races of Mankind" listed under H. sapiens, and had them splitting off from one another no less than 5 million years ago. Seriously. I found this fascinating, though not from a scientific point of view, but from a cultural one. As Jonmikel pointed out, if you have some kind of national political agenda, putting it in a text book is a great way to get the message out. It's funny how people will use science as a means to keep others down; one of the bases of the Civil Rights Movements: bad science.
Also, what made me think of playgrounds and kids: we found a great playground on the opposite side of Holyrood Park. It had a big jungle-gym type climbing thing, a big tire swing, and a zip-line. I mean really, how sweet is that? So we spent some time releasing our inner child and playing around, even though we were cold and wet, and even though neither of us was/is operating at 100%. And even though people looked ta us funny because we didn't have small children with us; apparently adults don't have inner children here accept when they get obnoxiously drunk.
Also, I've decided I want to have children if only because I want to do all the things I miss but can't really do as an adult, like watching Disney movies, playing on high-tech playgrounds, and going to Children's Zoos. Tangentially related, we wandered out into the rain yesterday (it was sunny when we left, but I said the "zoo" word, and the suddenly the heavens drowned us for the blasphemy) to the Sheep Heid Inn in Duddingston, the oldest Public House in Scotland, dating from the mid-1300s. How's that for old? Someone has been getting drunk in that spot for over 700 years. Inside they have a collection of books of varying ages, and one old encyclopedia had this great little family tree of Homo sapiens. I heard once that these things existed (the book was from sometime after the Korean War in 1953 but before Alaska became a state in 1959-all this we figured out from the list of international flags in the book), but have never actually seen one: it had the "5 Races of Mankind" listed under H. sapiens, and had them splitting off from one another no less than 5 million years ago. Seriously. I found this fascinating, though not from a scientific point of view, but from a cultural one. As Jonmikel pointed out, if you have some kind of national political agenda, putting it in a text book is a great way to get the message out. It's funny how people will use science as a means to keep others down; one of the bases of the Civil Rights Movements: bad science.
Also, what made me think of playgrounds and kids: we found a great playground on the opposite side of Holyrood Park. It had a big jungle-gym type climbing thing, a big tire swing, and a zip-line. I mean really, how sweet is that? So we spent some time releasing our inner child and playing around, even though we were cold and wet, and even though neither of us was/is operating at 100%. And even though people looked ta us funny because we didn't have small children with us; apparently adults don't have inner children here accept when they get obnoxiously drunk.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
A Concert 19 Years in the Making...
Not 19 years in the making for me. 19 years ago, I'm pretty sure I had no idea what a concert was, let alone any appreciation for music. No, this one was for Jonmikel.
He's a big fan female vocalists of many genres, and has been a fan of the Breeders since their first album came out 19 years ago. The Breeders are kind of an alternative, punkish chic rock band with interesting vocals and harmonies. I was never a huge fan, though I do remember some of their songs from back in the day (OK so no as far back in the day as Jonmikel's back in the day, but you know). But the deal was, I saw the ad on a Monday for their concert up at the ABC Hall (or something) in Glasgow (the music scene capital of Scotland) on Tuesday, and Tuesday afternoon we packed up and headed off. To be honest, I needed to getaway anyway; Edinburgh was starting to wear me out. So we booked a hostel right in the center of town and made a random road trip of it. While train tickets are more expensive than bus tickets, trains are way more entertaining and comfortable, so we just head to Waverley.
I have to admit, Glasgow has some ups. Well, one, which is that it feels like a real city. Which is a down after about a week. Not a big city girl. But it was neat to be somewhere that felt less touristy and more 24/7.
The set up of the ABC theater is quite nice: the dimly lit in shades of purple bar is in the back of the hall, so while you go up to get a (reasonably priced) drink, you don't miss any of the concert action. We managed to find some prime real estate close to the stage but off to the side. People were shying away from it because of its stage left location, but it turned out to be perfect. Up close and personal with the Breeders. Jonmikel seemed to enjoy it. :-) Admittedly, I was one of the youngest people in the crowd, which was odd considering the crowd wasn't all that old. When I'm the youngest person, it's usually because I'm at a Bob Seger or Steely Dan concert, and I'm out-aged by about 30 years. Here, though, I was obviously younger, but only but maybe 5 years. Most of the people were late 20s, early 30s, and most of the men looked a good deal older than Jonmikel despite being of a comparable age. Good for us. :-) And I was probably the only person who didn't know vitally important lyrics. But I really love live music. Of all kinds. I really enjoy people who enjoy performing. I've seen bands that I love perform live, and they've sucked because either they looked miserable up on stage or because I felt that I wasted $60 to hear what I could have heard back home on my couch. I like performers who engage with their audience, who smile and laugh and have fun. Generally, if they're having fun, I'm having fun. The first time I saw Counting Crows, I didn't really like them; but they're concert as excellent because they were having a great time up there. So The Breeders were great because they all seemed to be performing for the love of performing, not because record company said so.
Also, maybe this is a silly British thing and should go under that heading, but I'm not positive: there was no encore. Seriously. They did a last song and just... left. And so did the audience: they just started walking out. In the States, there would have been chanting and clapping and a general insistence that they play an encore, if not two or three. I mean really, where's the fun in just buggering off at the end of a set? If anyone has any insight on Britishness in this sense, let me know...
He's a big fan female vocalists of many genres, and has been a fan of the Breeders since their first album came out 19 years ago. The Breeders are kind of an alternative, punkish chic rock band with interesting vocals and harmonies. I was never a huge fan, though I do remember some of their songs from back in the day (OK so no as far back in the day as Jonmikel's back in the day, but you know). But the deal was, I saw the ad on a Monday for their concert up at the ABC Hall (or something) in Glasgow (the music scene capital of Scotland) on Tuesday, and Tuesday afternoon we packed up and headed off. To be honest, I needed to getaway anyway; Edinburgh was starting to wear me out. So we booked a hostel right in the center of town and made a random road trip of it. While train tickets are more expensive than bus tickets, trains are way more entertaining and comfortable, so we just head to Waverley.
I have to admit, Glasgow has some ups. Well, one, which is that it feels like a real city. Which is a down after about a week. Not a big city girl. But it was neat to be somewhere that felt less touristy and more 24/7.
The set up of the ABC theater is quite nice: the dimly lit in shades of purple bar is in the back of the hall, so while you go up to get a (reasonably priced) drink, you don't miss any of the concert action. We managed to find some prime real estate close to the stage but off to the side. People were shying away from it because of its stage left location, but it turned out to be perfect. Up close and personal with the Breeders. Jonmikel seemed to enjoy it. :-) Admittedly, I was one of the youngest people in the crowd, which was odd considering the crowd wasn't all that old. When I'm the youngest person, it's usually because I'm at a Bob Seger or Steely Dan concert, and I'm out-aged by about 30 years. Here, though, I was obviously younger, but only but maybe 5 years. Most of the people were late 20s, early 30s, and most of the men looked a good deal older than Jonmikel despite being of a comparable age. Good for us. :-) And I was probably the only person who didn't know vitally important lyrics. But I really love live music. Of all kinds. I really enjoy people who enjoy performing. I've seen bands that I love perform live, and they've sucked because either they looked miserable up on stage or because I felt that I wasted $60 to hear what I could have heard back home on my couch. I like performers who engage with their audience, who smile and laugh and have fun. Generally, if they're having fun, I'm having fun. The first time I saw Counting Crows, I didn't really like them; but they're concert as excellent because they were having a great time up there. So The Breeders were great because they all seemed to be performing for the love of performing, not because record company said so.
Also, maybe this is a silly British thing and should go under that heading, but I'm not positive: there was no encore. Seriously. They did a last song and just... left. And so did the audience: they just started walking out. In the States, there would have been chanting and clapping and a general insistence that they play an encore, if not two or three. I mean really, where's the fun in just buggering off at the end of a set? If anyone has any insight on Britishness in this sense, let me know...
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