July 2, 2008 Post
Its Hot Over Here!!!!
Hello everyone!
Greetings again from the far side. I'm actually telling the whole truth when I tell you that I was scrambling around for aloe last Saturday in an attempt to balm a wicked sunburn… acquired whilst playing American Football down in central London no less. As you can imagine… on a beautiful sunny day, we spent more time politely asking bewildered park goers to place their picnic blankets outside the orange cones demarcating our playing field. Apparently, the 2 minutes of strategizing between each 6-and-a-half second play left most people wondering if they were watching a sport or some bizarre form of collaborative yoga.
For those of you in tune with the financial markets, you've seen that England is sliding down the same slippery ditch that the U.S. has been digging over the past two years like a pack of rabid dogs looking for bones buried back in the 90's. I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to find the money to pay Ryan what's due for graciously taking my half of our house off my hands. Even GE, my beloved alma mater, put out its first profit warning since the Eisenhower administration, which analysts seem to take as a more convincing harbinger of a long-term economic bloodbath than the collapse of Bear Stearns, the credit market crisis, $140 oil, $5 gas, $1,000 gold, and an utterly shameful $1+ to purchase a single Canadian Dollar!!!
As I reflect warmly on the recent tax season, I am reminded once again how lucky I am to be a citizen of the only country that expects you to pay taxes when you don't live there. I guess we all have to do our part in supporting a comprehensive, gracious and effective foreign policy that continues to endear us to the international community. Ah - but who am I to complain… every time I arrive at JFK, I get a warm smile, and an invitation to stay indefinitely… unfortunately, I still have to wait for Susi to navigate the gauntlet. Last time we arrived in the U.S., she opted for the thumb-screws and water-boarding combo package which took over three hours!
Susi and I recently returned from an exhilarating long-weekend in Mallorca. I wonder if we should've been clued-in when it turned out one of our plane tickets cost three times as much as our 4 nights at a full-board resort in the burgeoning village of Magaluf. While we may not have found the romantic getaway we were looking for, I did find a solid candidate for a bachelor party weekend. Imagine a beautiful beach backed up to a never-ending boardwalk of bars offering all-day English breakfast and two-for-one beers. I'd describe it as a comical caricature of a culturally-stunted English college student's Shangri La. Interestingly enough, the guidebook we began reading after arriving in Mallorca said pretty much the same thing - without the gratuitous alliteration. Arguably the best entertainment we encountered was provided by one incensed local woman's indignation and threats of legal action whilst witnessing the spectacle of three inebriated, thong-clad Englishmen simulating a copulatory act upon each other that shall remain (and probably is) nameless.
With three hours left in our trip to Mallorca, gravity and poor lighting played an evil trick on my beloved Susi as she sprained her knee taking a much larger-than-expected step down from a pier. As I camel-backed Pina Coladas from a nearby beach bar back and forth to her resting place, I took heart in knowing that upon our return, Britain's complimentary health care system would ensure that Susi receive only the finest treatment. To make a long story short, Britain's health care system is absolutely ideal for hypochondriacs like me. Those actually suffering from a real ailment, however, may wish to seek treatment elsewhere. To put it in perspective, my last bi-annual "physical" was conducted over the phone, and, in another instance, I was cleared of cancer, malaria, diphtheria, Hodgkin's, pneumonia and Alzheimer's by a doctor's mere glance up from the Sunday funnies. Unfortunately for Susi, we visited three doctors who all ensured her that the pain was a figment of her imagination, the pronounced swelling an optical illusion, and distinct limp a machination.
And finally - do we ever get enough about the differences between British and American English? We all know that the British alphabet ends with the letter "y", and that they have incredibly obscene foods like Bubble and Squeak (essentially, leftovers), the Pork Faggot (offal meatball), Bangers & Mash (sausages & potatoes), and Spotted Dick (currant-laced 'pudding'). But here are a few lesser known jewels of the English lexicon (apologies to the few non-Americans on this distribution :-):
Fit: 1. In a state of having overcome an immense hangover 2. still hung-over, but ready to hit the pub anyway
Example: Man… you were slathered last night… are you feeling fit?
Local: An integral piece of infrastructure necessary to hold together the very fabric of its host community
Example: Shall we head down to the local for a pint?
A Quiet One: An indeterminate number of drinks from 12 to infinity (syn: "a pint", "one for the road", "a quick one")
Example: Shall we head down to the local for a quiet one?
Going For It: Attempting to find that perfect balance between consciousness and having one's stomach pumped.
Example: Blimey! We just came down here for a quiet one… but, crikey!... He's really going for it!
And before we go, lets just give a shout out Scotland's most favourite protected species… the Great Tit: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/tayside_and_central/7423903.stm
But as you know, there's more to England than off-colour food, crazy vocabulary and wanton pub patronizing… and when I figure out what that is, I'll be sure to tell you all about it in a future update :-)!
On a serious note, Susi and I hope everyone is doing well!! Things are great in England, and we look forward to seeing many of you during our next trip home in July!!
Cheers,
Rich & Susi**
**The opinions, "facts", and otherwise offensive material contained herein does not in any way represent the views or opinions of Susi. She says "hello!" and begs your forgiveness.
--------------------------------------------------------
December 25, 2007 Post
In support of the UN Climate Change Conference in Bali, Susi and I would like to wish you a personal one-to-one Merry Christmas (Happy Holidays if necessary, of course) with this state-of-the-art paperless Greeting Card. We have recycled the individualized hand painted, traditional Incan greeting cards as our small part in halting South American sub-equatorial deforestation.
Four months into our glorious British business venture, and tragically, I've gained more pounds than I've earned. While we are meeting our revenue estimates (we do not expect any revenue until March), a preponderance of English beer and rather-revolting-yet-strangely-comforting food has taken an unexpected edge against not having a car and the "European Lifestyle" by a slim margin. In this matter, for the record, I am only speaking about myself... Susi has a paying job :-).
Not helping the cause was our recent family trip to Italy. I had considered brushing up on my Italian so as to flaunt my ambassadorial prowess, but instead decided to employ the universally recognized communication method of Desperanto. As most of you probably know, rather than verbally articulating one's thoughts, Desperanto leverages a complex set of intelligible grunts, finger pointing and pained facial expressions to get around pretty much any country in the world, and the Italians spoke it beautifully... I wanted not!!
In my spare time, I have been waging an intense psychological war against my landlord in the hopes of removing my carpet, fixing the fridge and replacing the light bulbs in fixtures I cannot reach (which, admittedly, is most of them). As you know from my previous update, I started with a multi-pronged eMail offensive, followed by a barrage of left messages with his secretary. I've also launched several intelligence operations in an effort to turn his maintenance man. I expect him to break any day now.
In spite of the landlord offensive, Susi and I have made great strides in cultivating the kind of ambiance in our flat that we hope will please our many guests. We have implemented a series of decoratory and organizational initiatives that have rendered our flat quite hospitable. Nearly every piece of furniture has been covered with one or more layers of creatively chosen fabrics, we placed a small army of mini dehumidifiers around the flat, and have used creative storage solutions to eliminate nearly all of the clutter associated with flats of a.. eh.. compact nature. Outside, we took apart the garden - including the irradiation of the slug and snail problem and planting over 100 flower bulbs. In the event that these gentrifications fail to illicit the desired response, we do keep the liquor cabinet and fridge well stocked. I must disclaim, at the wishes (i.e. threats of severe bodily harm) of my beloved, that the flat does indeed look very good now - I've attached a couple before and after pics)
We are quite relieved to say that it took all of two weeks before we became completely immune to the sound of the trains rushing behind our house. Unfortunately, this Darwinian adaptation has resulted in a series of near-misses at railroad crossings and street crossings. I'm fairly certain that after natural causes and food poisoning, my grim reaper will most likely take the form of a Big Red Double Decker Bus.
Congratulations to Ryan, Jen, Matt and Carla on their recent engagements! ... and finally... Merry Christmas To One And All - And To All A Good Night!!!
Rich & Susi
---------------------------------------------
September 3, 2007 Update
Hey all -
Quick hello from sunny London. Susi and I just moved into a 'furnished' flat containing three old pieces of furniture, a table, and a broken vacuum cleaner. Needless to say, we've spent most of the last two weekends in Asda (Wal-Mart), Ikea and the long bus journey to and from. I herniated at least 4 disks yesterday whilst toting a Kornfuenffklob (desk) and a Liefericssonklim (bathroom drawers) plus a backpack full of essentials (you know - kriskristoffersonklacks, bennyandersoncliks, bjorkoffers and the like) back from Ikea. I've also spent a good deal of time sending hate mail to my new landlord since it appears that the combined effort of a dozen or so regurgitating elephants had their way with the carpet just before we moved in. Luckily we're pleasantly distracted by the railway just beyond our backyard fence. My first night at the flat left me wondering... Does that freight train ALWAYS come by here at 5:15 in the morning?? I've since found out that it is actually quite unusual - it usually comes around 4:30.
Immediate shocks aside, the flat is excellent by London standards. Its has one and a quarter bathrooms (the quarter bathroom has a toilet and a small window) and a pair of generous walk-in closets shrewdly marketed as bedrooms - one of which will become a true bed-room as it will have wall-to-wall mattress once our king-sized bed arrives. The kitchen and living room (save the biology experiment gone wild that is our carpet) are well put together and spacious, though I'd give my kingdom for a dryer and dishwasher. The garden (fully fenced in back-yard with no escape route in the event of fire or natural disaster) is actually pretty big and will be very nice once I find someone to lend me a shotgun and machete to bushwhack my way out to the rear fence and clear some space for living. We also have two amazingly well-endowed apple trees that are ready to be picked... I ate a couple last night and have been seeing double since. I'll try and bring some back for y'all in the states.
The location/neighborhood is amazing. We're a short walk to the tube (subway), and four very useful bus lines (believe it or not) stop around the corner from our front door. We're on a quiet residential street one block off a high road (main street) that goes directly into Central London. There is a tiny grocery store and/or restaurant representing every nationality that begins with a consonant or vowel other than U (and we are anxiously anticipating the opening of an Uzbekistani internet cafe later this month). Additionally, we're around the corner from a couple great locals (English pubs) that have reasonably-priced pints and solid biergartens.
I hope all is well with everyone - invitation is open after we receive our moving shipment (three or four weeks out).
All of my new contact information is below.
Cheerio,
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment