Dutch Lesson

Answers? Solutions? A few words to help the healing?

Nope.

At least, not yet.

I am not writing this for you. I am writing this for me. Read it, don't read it, that's your business. This is mine:

Since I got the news, I have been wondering what country I am in. I thought I was an American and I thought I knew America. I thought that Trump supporters were delusional. It's a bitter pill to find out that I am the one who has been delusional, that America is not the place I thought it was. I don't fit in the place where I thought I fit.

But you know what? Fuck that.

Fuckrag McClownhair won the election and there is not one thing I can do about that. I did what I could to support Hillary Clinton and it did not go my way. I feel like I voted reasonably and my state voted reasonably, but that doesn't matter now.

So, what matters now?

You.

I am a middle-aged, straight, white-ish artist. Chances are you are different from me. Yesterday, our differences were things I respected. You know what has changed? Nothing. It's you and me together in this sick world. It always has been.

I can't predict what is going to happen, and my brain is tired from trying to figure it out. I just want you to know what is not going to change. Me and you? We're Americans. We are staring into the eyes of a doomed administration and it will be up to us to put it all back together again.

And when we do, let's take their fucking guns away this time.

If you support the president elect, I have heard your voice loud and clear. If you have more opinions and you care about me, it's time for you to shut the fuck up. I may live in delusional subset of your America, but you sound like a hateful idiot where I live. I respect you too, but we don't have room for hateful idiots where I live.

If you are reading this and you aren't an American, I can't explain what happened. I'm so sorry. We don't have an excuse. Also, I would love to come visit you soon.

I think I want to learn to speak Dutch.

New Mexico is a really nice place to be today in spite of the news.

I don't know how to end this.

It's not over.

The Future

Look in my eyes. It's you and me. It always has been.

For the past five or six years, I have been sharing my silly thoughts with you any time I leave the country. I write a blog in an acceptably sloppy style from the perspective of a traveling or touring American. More specifically, I share my ridiculous thoughts as a regular guy from Albuquerque. I always say that when I go somewhere, I take Albuquerque with me.

That may sound familiar to you.

I have a weird and vulnerable dilemma. My statistics for this blog are pretty respectable. Last summer I had to change the address for the blog, I lost the archives, and my stats were still respectable. Do you know what I mean when I say respectable? I mean rock star. My dilemma is: should I continue to write this blog when I'm not on the road? Is it interesting to read about a guy from Albuquerque in Albuquerque? What if I lose my rock star stats? How many questions will I ask in this paragraph?

Juli wants me to keep writing it in America. That right there is enough for me to give it a shot. So here it goes. Let's have a shot together.

The US is going to have an election in a week or so. Look at you, all worried about it. I think it's pretty normal for people to worry that they are surrounded by idiots. It's like, "I know what to do, but no one else is as smart as I am," or maybe even, "We know what to do, but people aren't as smart in other parts of the country." I am here to tell you that you are not surrounded by idiots. Idiots are out there, but Americans will never, ever elect Donald Trump. You are surrounded by beauty and life. Most of the people around you are kind and have something interesting to say. Strangers seem scary and strangers are afraid of you.

I'm not about to dive into deep philosophy or try to solve social problems with my nonsense thoughts. I just want to remind you of some things you already know. We can all do better, we can all be better, we are all afraid of each other and ourselves. We will be better.

I just came back from the future and there are three things to know: Americans don't elect Trump, in fact "Trump" becomes a word that is a synonym for failure. You should take good care of the people you love. You should be kind to the people you don't love.

I only went one year into the future, so I can't report on flying cars. The only thing I can tell you about that is: not yet.

I am an American in America. Albuquerque in Albuquerque. I'm going to hang out here for a bit.

Wanna come?  

Talk About a Pickle

Sorry if you have heard me say this before, because I say it a lot, but people from different cultures strike me as having more in common than they have differences. Some people are really great, some people are terrible, but most of us are just kind of fine. For me the thing that separates the States from the rest of the world is not so much our great or terrible people, but that we put pickles in pickle places and cucumbers in cucumber places. It is, perhaps, our nation’s greatest collective ability. In the rest of the world you may find a cucumber on a burger or somewhere equally as strange.

Hey everyone else in the world, I respect what makes you you and I appreciate when you extend the same sentiment my way. I am not criticizing your choices, I am simply pointing out that cucumbers are not pickles and you will never convince me otherwise. Certainly you have tasted pickles on a hamburger. Did you run out of pickles? Are you trying to trick me? 

Remember when you were a kid and you ate at your friend’s house and it tasted okay but a little bit off from how it was supposed to? Yeah, someone switched the cucumbers and pickles.

Let’s see what’s down this road.

One of my great uncles once told me that a person who speaks three languages is called trilingual, someone who speaks two languages is called bilingual, and someone who speaks one language is called an American.

It doesn’t matter how comfortable your bed is because it’s so much better than the plane.

Sometimes I want to take and post pictures with strangers who look like people I know back home. I would be like: here I am with Ukrainian Harrison, or: hey look It’s me and Dutch Laura. I do not do this of course because my friends might want to return the favor, and I don’t want to send them over to dudes who look like me. Me-looking guys are kind of scary, right?

For those of you who are keeping score at home, here are two items of interest. Catherine has gone back to the States, so Team Pom Pom is officially on hiatus. Without her, we are just three jerks. With her, we are four. The other thing is: I am still walking around with my fake wallet. No one wants to rob me for some reason. Maybe at our core we really are good.

Maybe I look like I would beat the fuck out of someone who tried to rob me.

I am in the market for some souvenirs. In particular I would like to bring back a treat for my pals Joanna and Abigail. If either of you are reading this, let me apologize right now for whatever stupid trinket I eventually bring you. What I am looking for is: a cat on a lyra that says Asia for Jo. For Abigail I would like to find one of those buttons that, if you push it, someone dies and you get a million dollars.  

The search continues.

Coffee in Krakow

Krakow, y’all. I do not know where to begin. To say that Krakow is wonderful is an exercise in redundancy. This city is the universal baseline for all things wonderful. Remember that first kiss with your one true love? Hell, remember your most recent kiss from your one true love? Remember finishing that perfect book and wondering if you should flip back to the first page and read it again? That is Krakow. It is a cuddle from a puppy. It is that time you got bumped up to first class. It is not the Amsterdam or the Paris, but it is the Krakow all its own.

I was talking to my pal Piotr last night and he asked me how Krakow has changed since the first time I came here. I told him there is coffee now. The first time I came here, I had to buy black tea to get some real caffeine in my American blood. I remember when they put a Starbucks in the Galleria, and now there are two Starbucks in there. There are cafes all over the place. I am doing my best to give them all my money. Another thing that has changed is so many people speak English. I’m not all, “Sup brah, gimme an extra shot and pour half of the milk on the floor,” but I am definitely, “Hello, may I please have a latte.”

                                                         These folks make coffee for me.

Afterthought: a barista in Kiev asked me if I wanted my coffee strong or soft. No musician from Albuquerque has ever gone to Kiev for a soft cup of coffee.

 For my most recent Polish lesson, I am trying to learn the phrase: “Oh really? Because your eyes tell me a different story.” I can think of many situations where this could come in handy. Polish phrases I already know include:

You look pretty.

I like your shoes.

I only speak Polish.

Pardon me, I am a redneck from America.

My Polish friends seem to particularly enjoy when I say that last one. My Polish is somewhat limited, but I have a good time. Speaking of good times, there are two shows left. Fingermouth is happening at 8:00 and The Reptilian Lounge is at 10:00. I have it on good authority that today is Thursday, but you can never be too sure about these things.

                                  This chick really wants me and Drew to go to the strip club.

You know how it is August so it is really warm in Albuquerque? Well, it is apparently not August in Krakow. It is almost October here and water keeps falling from the sky like Seattle in the autumn or winter or spring or summer.

How good is Polish food? The answer to that question is 100. Polish food is 100 good. I would describe it to you, but that would just make you mad because look at that stuff you’re about to eat. Shame on you. You are in Albuquerque. Go eat something good.

I’ll tell you more later.

Gator.

Hey Kid, Get Lost

I am out in Kiev with Tricklock Company. While everyone is getting ready to perform Fingermouth and The Reptilian Lounge and a Ukrainian TV appearance out here in Eastern Europe, my homeslices Rhiannon and KatieP are touring the States with their show ELLIEIDA. Holy smokes, did I drop enough names in this paragraph?

I just wanted to draw your attention to Rhiannon and KatieP for a moment. They are young, they are women, and they are bad ass. Their company is Studio Playhaus with several other homeslices, and they are touring their original production. It's like Albuquerque is the Garden of Bitchin 'and we are all out planting seeds across the world.

When the crop comes in, it is going to be spicy.

I walked down to the square. Well, it's the square but it's not called that - maybe because it's a circle. If you can recall an image of Kiev from the news, there. I went there.

I was using Google Translate to try to figure out the menu of a sandwich place because the Cyrillic script is hard for me to read. A guy, who was probably the manager of the sandwich place, spoke very little English and really wanted to help me. Through a series of gestures and expressions and both of us repeating the word "good," I ended up with, what I think was, a ground chicken sandwich. I took a bite of it.

"Good?" He asked. "Good," I said.

Before I finish this story, you need to know that as much as I brag about my ability to speak French, it is actually very limited.

So I tell the guy that my sandwich is good and he says: "Bon appétit."

"Pretty close," I thought. "Pretty darn close."

The differences between a guy from the States and a guy from France are vast, and at the end of the day who gives a shit.

Here's a thought: we are able to travel around because of our ability to manipulate the decayed remains of dinosaurs.

I have been carrying two wallets - my real one, and the if-I-get-robbed one. The latter says AC/DC and sticks together with Velcro. It has a few bucks in it, an expired NYC Metro card, and some receipts. So far, I have not been robbed in New York or Kiev.

Stay tuned.

I was told that I have a weak hippocampus because of my reliance on technology. I guess we all do. A hippocampus, if you do not know, is how Sirius escaped from Hogwarts. I went for a walk earlier to strengthen my hippocampus, and promptly got lost. Luckily, Google Maps knew the way home.

Go get lost somewhere. I recommend it. 

Train of Thought

Sometimes I have million-dollar ideas. I tell you the thing, you run with it, everybody makes money. Perfect right? I had a million-dollar idea in Amsterdam for a small utensil that would remove the core of an apple. Apparently this device has existed for some time and is actually called an apple corer.

I totally want one, and everyone thinks it is just so hilarious that I was not aware of them. Catherine wants someone to invent some kind of wall portal that will keep her from being trapped in her house – like a window, but it goes all the way to the floor.

Everyone is a comedian.

Holland is just as pretty as ever. I took thousands of pretty pictures, and I look forward to showing them to you one day. Team Pom Pom stayed in one of those buildings you’re imagining.

 A

I  I

I  I

Juli and my room was in the top of the A, and we had to bend as we walked across it. Juli said it was like Harry Potter’s room under the stairs.

The woman who sold me coffee this morning sang to herself in English as she served me. It was kind of: “Now I give you the coffee… Now I give you a napkin…”

I am on a train on my way to Berlin. The only business I have in Berlin is to catch a different train. After Berlin I will go to some other place to catch a train, and then eventually I will get to where I am going. Kiev? Is that a thing?

 

Let’s find out.

Catherine and I are playing a game called If Jason Was Here. You can play at home if you’d like. Here is what you do: take any situation and decide how Jason would make it better if he were there. For instance, I am writing this blog. It’s fine. But if Jason was here, he would have chicken wings for everyone and a sweet mix of rock songs through the ages.

Sometimes Juli doesn’t LOL, but she LI (laughs inside.)

One last thing about Catherine: she always wants a cup of hot water. It might have something to do with saving money.

Here is everything I have learned about Ukraine so far:

... 

Okay. The train. Y’all hear about this? After riding rails for 23 hours, we were ready to get off at the next stop, which was supposed to have been Kiev. It turns out, we still had another 24 hours to go. The mighty Team Pom Pom stayed strong and after 45 hours our asses are now in Ukraine. Teams Dragon and Radio Flyer have also arrived.

Sounds like a party. 

Stop Spreading the News I'm Leaving Today

“Excuse me, sir. Can I borrow you for a minute?” asked some lady I don’t know at the Newark airport. “Not really,” I said. I was screwing around with a pay station from the late ‘90s, trying to pay for a coffee from the mid-twenty-one-teens.

What decade is 2016? Someone get on that.

“You,” she said, pointing at me. “I said can I borrow you for a minute?”

I spoke loudly and clearly. “Not really.”

She left me alone.

Yeah, so New York City – la manzanita grande. It’s like the world decided to have one main city, and this is it. I had a fine time. I ate three salmon on bagels with cream cheese and avocado. Juli pointed out to me that I enjoy my sushi the same way. I took some trains and dragged some suitcases around. Team Pom Pom and Team Radio Flyer managed the Tricklock show at The Brick. The same folks had some alligator pizza with the Albuquerque transplants and some city folk.

Dude, Cuenco. How great is that chick?

I can’t be dropping all the names, but there were some swell people there. My night ended with a bottle High Life in my hand. Weird.

Juli and I went to go see Abigail Browde’s new work. That woman is pretty interesting to me. I have never been disappointed with any of her experiments. Unique new work.

Hang on a sec. Drew just came over and I’m going to let him read this and see if I forgot about anything.

Okay, I got a couple of notes. Drew didn’t quite get why I called 2016 the mid-twenty-one-teens, and he said, “They’re called lox.” I told him that I was pretty sure they’re called salmons.

Oh look. Here’s Juli.

She is satisfied.

I have no idea where Catherine is. We Pom Poms need a little time to call our sisters and such every once in a while.

I have no idea how I should plan my sleep time. I’m leaving for Holland at sixish and arriving at sevenish and checking in at noonish and the flight is sevenish hours. I have two sleeping pills and if I miss another free tomato juice on the plane, I am going to freak out.

Somewhere in New Mexico, my mother is praying for me. Please no one else pray for me. Let’s see if she can handle it on her own.

Later gators. I’ll see you in Europe. We could be euros just for one day.

Moving On

For the past few years I have been blogging on blog.com about travel. Remember all those good times we had? Uganda, Holland, probably some other places – I was there, and I wrote about it. Well, they are all gone now. The bidet in Berlin, the lack of deodorant in Poland – good times. Good times. Maybe they are gone for a while and maybe they are gone forever, but blog.com has not been loading for the past couple of weeks, so I am moving on.

Hello this site.

Now about you: welcome or welcome back! You are very pretty I hope you will indulge me as I blather about nonsense. You will? Gee that is swell.

About this blog: I am just a regular jerk from Albuquerque and I report to you as such. It is best for you to be from Albuquerque to fully appreciate my random silliness because I take Albuquerque with me wherever I go. If you are not from Albuquerque, you should probably come visit some time. We put chile on everything.

About me: I write this in hotel rooms and hostels and AirBnBs and airports and cafes. While I am a for-reals writer, I take liberties with spelling and basic grammar in this blog. I do not edit. I think this style allows a certain authenticity and it allows me to be lazy. The only type of editing this blog receives is from my wife who warns me if I might be being culturally insensitive, offensive, political, or use words like cuntrag. As in: Donald Trump is a cuntrag.

Okay, we are all caught up now.

I am in Albuquerque with most of my packing done. Tomorrow is the last rehearsal with The Reptilian Lounge House band. I will be playing the guitar for the Lounge on tour. Tricklock is also taking the shows Her Murder Ballad and Fingermouth to New York, Kiev, and Krakow.

Wanna come?

Oh good. I was hoping you would say that. Keep your passport in your front pocket and get ready to wash your socks in the shower. It’s time to get all cultural and shit.