Tangueros en La Boca

Cristian sent me an SMS text last week asking me if I would attend a tango performace tonight that was very important to him - at La Ideal - one of the oldest and most classic milongas or tango halls in all of Buenos Aires. I took my second terrifying tango lesson there. That's another story. Sure, I dig tango. I'll go.

I met Cristian and Jessica pictured here, through Samantha, the tanguera that I fell madly in and out of love with when I first arrived. Doesn't even matter if she's gonna be there. I'll bring a wingman, Brian, my new friend, also a film maker. I don't even have any pesos, waiting for some checks to come in. Sure I'll go.

These are pictures (uncorrected) that we shot together about a month ago while on assignment for Rough Guide travel books. I am catching up on the Digital Work Flow to begin another job for them that will run through September. Then I want to drive around the world... maybe with a dog named Cheeto, probably not Cheeto.

Baseball is Life, Life is Good

Film Review and Commentary on ‘Game 6’

Directed by Michael Hoffman
Written by Don DeLillo
Starring Michael Keaton and Robert Downy Jr.

Don DeLillo hits a solid double with his first foray into screenplay writing with ‘Game 6’, starring Michael Keaton and Robert Downy Jr. The film is centered around game 6 of the 1986 World Series between the New York Met’s and the Boston Red Sox when first baseman Bill Buckner let the ball through his legs on what should have been a routine final out and the Met’s scored the go ahead run that lead them to win the series.

Robert Downy Jr. plays a reclusive and irreverent costume-wearing Broadway theatre critique, making or breaking a writers career with the drop of his pen and just one scathing review. “I tell the truth and the truth is usually painful,” he says, adding a subtle comedic genius to his role as usual.

Keaton plays a successful New York playwright whose wife is seeing ‘a prominent divorce lawyer’ and can’t talk to his angst-ridden daughter about it. Keaton is a devout Red Sox fan forced to lament over the history of his losing team. ‘Winning is easy, its losing that’s hard. There are so many complexities and layers to losing. The Red Sox’s have ways of losing that… that can keep you awake at night.’

I read my first DeLillo novel – White Noise – straight off the farm as a freshman in college English class at San Diego State University. There I also learned about film, my formative cinematic youth, studying ‘History of Cinema’ with Greg Kahn for two film-drenched years, semester after semester. Greg always said ‘cinema is like baseball’ and that we can compare the two when we talk about levels of appreciation and study them beyond the basics. For the first trip to the ball park for someone one has never been before, the first-time experience for the newcomer can be immensely satisfying – the sights, sounds and smells of the stadium, the hotdogs, peanuts and cracker-jacks, the roar of the crowd, the 7th inning stretch, the scale of it all. But for the avid fan, baseball is more than just a game as DeLillo suggests – the squeeze play, the stats, the decision to bring in an ace relief pitcher to close the game as the Red Sox did in the ’86 series game 6.

It is similar with film. For the novice watching a film they can be taken away into a world of fantasy, enjoying the moving images, the characters, the story. But for the serious fan of cinema the appreciation can run much deeper – the subtle nuances of lighting, the layers and layers involved in the film’s production, the use of the musical score, the performance commanded by the actors from the director, the mise-en-scene and how all these elements come together to speak to us beyond shear entertainment.

A true fan of baseball I am not, but fans of DeLillo, baseball and art are in for a treat with ‘Game 6’ as all three are interconnected around opening night of Keaton’s most personal and important work. Instead of attending his own opening night, he ducks out to watch the Red Sox lose again. Easy to pick apart as most other critics have done, DeLillo delivers, not needing to hit a home-run during his first at bat in the majors.

Restless in BA

I’ve been reading more this past year than in recent memory – currently, ‘Who Needs A Road’, by Harold Stephens & Albert Podell – about their Trans World Record Expedition back in 1966 in a Toyota Landcruiser and a Willy's Jeep. I also recently finished Rory Stewart's best seller, ‘The Places in Between’ about his solo walk across Afghanistan in 2002 in the middle of winter; braving snow, mountains, bandits and solitude, with the 120 pound Bull Mastiff that he was ‘given’ along the way – pretty damn inspiring and a real look inside Afghanistan, one that almost no one will every be able to do as he did. I also caught up on IanWalk’s blog about his journey from Tierra del Fuego to Alaska, also alone and on foot, inspired by a llama. He got to Columbia and had to break back to the States for lack of funds and is now substitute teaching somewhere outside of Portland.

Reading about the Trans World’s trek through Egypt reminds me of the time I went to Egypt back in the early 90’s to shoot travel videos. They are all suffering from something they call ‘Cairo colon’, something I remember very vividly. We were in some government office building trying to get all of our confiscated video gear back when it hit – a god awful green spew coming from both ends of my body. Five days had already passed and we hadn’t shot one frame of video. We did ride horses across the Sahara, gambled at the posh tourist hotel across from the pyramids where we were staying, posed for pictures with camels in front of the pyramids and woke at dawn to the wailing calls to prayer. All I remember wanting was to stop shooting all of the tourist shit and pop into one of the smoky cafes that we rode past on horseback down some back alleyway, the back route to the desert. That’s what I wanted to shoot way back then.

And here I am, living large enough in BA with as many comforts as could be hoped for anywhere – a life that I could barely afford back in San Francisco, nothing romantic about it at all, more mundane than anything. And I’m sleepless, restless… longing for the road, longing to travel – for perpetual motion – for the journey itself and I’m mad at myself for wanting. And for perceived laziness and for such freedom to dream up such discontent.

Telefonica - Gallegos Hijos de Putas!

You think Sprint, MCI or AT&T are bad, try working with the local telco in Buenos Aires - Telefonica - a Spanish company reveling in the tradition of the conquistadors, raping and pillaging the poor people of Latin America 600 years later.

To avoid a lengthy and angry diatribe, here's the details en breve. We're fortunate here in the third world to have decent broadband internet. Fibertel and Multicanal are the two top providers in BA, but unfortunately here on my street in San Telmo under the ancient cobblestones, there is no fiber optics, only traditional telco lines and Telefonica is the only carrier available. When I first moved in I had to wait a mere six weeks before I could even order broadband (ADSL, 512K at best) because the Telefonica employees were on strike, don't even remember why, probably some kind of wage dispute.

After returning from California a month ago, I learned that my internet had gone down and thus began the nightmare. Daily calls to Telefonica for tech support all ended the same - "OK, please hold the line, don't hang up and we'll be with you shortly..." sometimes holding up to 30 minutes per call and then 'beep, beep, beep, beep,' that dreaded disconnect busy signal. Some days I would call up to 10-15 times a day and the result was always the same, many times getting the busy signal right up front. Twice I did get through and filed a report - my service is not working, ok... we're working on it - and still nothing ever happened and I could never get through again to follow up on my service report.

Begrudingly, I decided a trip to Telefonica's HQ in Microcentro was in order. After waiting in a short line I was directed to a longer line and told, "wait in this line and then use telephone number 8 to report your complaint." No. I'm here to speak with customer service, not to call them on the phone... I can wait on hold at home. After a bit of complaining, the woman behind the desk pulled me out of line and told me that she would make the call for me. After another 20 minutes on hold, she said something to the woman on the other line and passed me the phone and told me to have a good day. I explained my case again, that I wanted to discontinue their terrible service and get my three months of payments for no service refunded. Unbelievably, she asked me to hold the line and then after another twenty minutes on hold, the line went dead. Unbelievable!

I asked after the woman who had made the call for me and was told she had gone to lunch but would be back in an hour. I was forced back into line and had to wait to use telephone number 8 - dialing the same toll free number that I had been dialing from home over the past month. The man next to me slammed down his phone and started yelling, chanting and clapping his hands in the middle of the office, trying to incite a protest right then and there. I had read in the paper about a similar indident the week before at the local power company - Edesur. Apparently a man had a similar bill dispute and got so incensed that he shot and killed to employees in the office.

Finally, another woman came on the line, took down the same information I'd already given three times now and asked me to come back in ten days for my refund, agreeing to shut off my non-working broadband. Unfortunately, they shut off my phone service too, all but crippling my outside communications. The wife of the man who was chanting came up to me hurridly after I had hung up my phone and told me, "Telefonica son hijos de putas Gallegos, no son Argentions, eh?" - 'Telefonica are Spanish son's of bitches, not Argentines', just to make sure I knew the difference.

- Thanks to the Universidad del Cine or FUC next door, I've got a semi-stable wireless connection coming thr0ugh the heavy brick wall , keeping me barely alongside the Internet super highway, now reduced to mere dirt tracks headed nowhere throught the vast and barren cyber-desert landscape.

Andean Adventures - High and Low

The Coastline principals - Dave and Kimberly - finally huffed it down to South America with six month old little baby Wyatt and his giant stroller in tow. After some Buenos Aires highlights including large and luscious steaks at DesNivel, a jaunt down to Caminito in La Boca and then a few days off at one of San Antonio de Areco's excellent Estancias - El Ombu - they headed up to Mendoza for some R&R, more site seeing and wine tasting.

Low and behold, little baby W came down with a grave case of 'larangitis' in the middle of the night and the local doctor was summoned.

I flew up to meet them and thus began our journey into the Andean highlands, passing by the base of Aconcagua - the tallest peak outside of the Himalayas at 6,900m (22,000ft.) - and on to Barreal beyond. And what an adventure it was.
Coughing and wheezing on the bumpy and dusty 100kms of dirt road along the base of the Andes, little Wyatt was not a happy camper. After a few semi-traumatic stops in no-mans land, we finally made Barreal in the late afternoon just as the clouds began to part, reveling the majestic pre-cordilleras mountains to the East, newly dusted by a light afternoon snow shower.

Dave and I came down with similar ailments and coughed and whined as Kimberly drove us back across the great barren Calingasta dessert and on down to Mendoza. A grand and adventurous time was had by all and we made it back to BA safely and sanely, ready for some much needed warmth, food and sleep.

1 - For some reason, I've lost all control that I thought I ever had over photo layout within text in the new Blogger format. I think soon will come the time that I shift off of this platform altogether and try either WordPress or Joomla, perhaps in conjunction with www.grphoto.net.

Paths of Glory for Bonnie and Clyde

After a visit to the Rossi Diagnostic Imaging Center to pick up my films and then a trip to the German Hospital here in BA to have them read, I arrived home and stepping into my flat, the handle on my cane snapped in half - by chance. The doc says that I waited too long to turn myself in to the proper medical authorities but with some jump-start PT, I have a good chance of staving off a knee operation towards some sort of recovery. "Let's take another look at you in two weeks, after your therapy," he said. "But you're always gonna remember which knee it is," he added.

So I invited myself over to my neighbor Nat's place to watch a couple of flicks. Limping down to the corner video shoppe, we picked up Kubrick's 'Paths of Glory' with Kirk Douglas and then another classic American film - 'Bonnie and Clyde'. On the way home and directly across the street from our beloved Patios del Sol, the Universidad de Cine students were setting up for a night time shoot. Ironically, both films we watched ended tragically with key players being set up by the law and then shot to death. "Why don't you teach film at the cinema school next door?" Nat suggested. I think my love affair with academia ended long ago.

Live Video - La Bersuit Veragarbat

My first post to YouTube is very short due to bandwidth limitations but wow - check out what the new Canon SD-1000 can do. This was a short clip from the grand finale - look at all those people, upwards of maybe 80,000!!

Bersuit Vergarabat - EN VIVO!

The biggest stadium for the biggest band in Argentina - La Bersuit Veragabat - live in River Plate stadium in front of countless thousands... AND, we went in style in the most lujo private box in the entire place - patrocinado por Coca Cola!

How 'bout a spiked foot to the face?!

Argentine soccer (Futbol in all other parts of the world) gone dumb and DUMBER!!



Sessa kicks out - strike ultima.

Totally Experimental

Arriving in El Paso just on the brink of a huge West Texan thunderstorm, I limped my way through the airport amongst American GI's just returning from Iraq. There were also many German soldiers - something about training the American military for long range artillary.

My Dad picked me up and we headed back to base camp just across the border in New Mexico for a few days off before heading home to Buenos Aires. The big plan - to finally get to fly his Lancair ES - one of the best experimental aircrafts in the world.

Yesterday's weather was lousy but this morning, the sunshine broke through the clouds - here was our window of opportunity. BUT... due to my bum knee, the decission was made for me - Greg will not be able to fly today - just in case of an emergency. And that was it...

Maybe next time... que lastima!!

Southwest Desert Cacti - Anthony, New Mexico

Flying the Robot Glider - TH1

Cops and Coffee

So... staying on this boat on the Oakland estuary just inside the San Francisco Bay while visiting my home state of California from Argentina has been - splendid - to say the very least. Despite the cold wind-swept storms with the beautiful storm clouds bursting through and my bum knee and the damp-factor and no transportation to call my own, today is a lovely warm April spring day, the CA sun is shining and I'm stoked!

Years ago when Super Dave first bought his 29' Ericson next door, the Embarcadero Cove marina was a barren sailors hideaway. With Jerry Brown's mayorship of Oakland now past, his redevelopment legacy lives on - new walkways and parks are springing up all along the waterfront and the newest addition to this hidden marina is STARBUCKS coffee just onshore right next to us. Now, I've always hated Starbucks with a passion - over priced, over roasted consumerist coffee at best - but as I near my fortieth year I'm learning to love more than hate and have made amends with the WalMart giant of retail coffee.

Most mornings that I've slept on the boat, I've hobbled my crippled self up to the welcoming warmth of overweight Americans ordering ridiculous sounding 'specialty coffee drinks' - "I'll have a non-fat, four shot carmel machiatto with a chocolate scone. Did I say whip?" - you get the picture (or maybe not for those in Argentina, one of the very few countries I've been to with NO Starbucks- yet).

But the point is that its become a sort of coven for COPS! Not just local cops but cops from all over. On any given day, there will be agents from the Alameda County Sheriffs, Oakland Police Department (OPD), California Highway Patrol (CHiPs - like Frank and Poncherelo, from TV), Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) Police, special K-9 units from god knows where, Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA - NARCS), the fire department and on and on. But TODAY, there were these two rotund figures coming out of the trees and up the walkway towards Starbucks. At first I couldn't see them very well, and then realized they were in full green camouflage body warrior-type suites. One male, one female, just off of the Coast Guard zodiac parked at the next marina over - with the .50 caliber machine gun mounted up front - you know, for terrorists.

Just wanted to share this with you... the transformation of the USofA towards a full-on police state - thanks GW. Last time I flew into SFO there were military personal patrolling the airport with Humvees and M-16's!! If you need any more info on the loss of free speech in this country, please visit Josh Wolf's website to read about his 7 1/2 months in Federal prison for 'withholding evidence' from the grand jury. Wolf is the longest journalist to be held in contempt of court in US history WITHOUT BEING CHARGED FOR A CRIME! He was just released from prison on April 3rd, welcome back brother.

Bloggin' from Van Kleef's - OAKTOWN

Yeah... so my mobile road warrior wireless program has been great. One of my life goals - take my show on the road - virtual office. And they server beer here!

Unfortunately, I forgot a couple of necessary cables for my photography program - lame - and have had limited time and access to my images that I've shot while on this trip to California.

BUT... thank goodness that Sarah Wheeler busted out her... point and shoot at MT's 40th birthday bash. Here are a couple for the whole world to revel in. What else on the creative front?
Well... the bartertender here at Van Kleef's is a smash hit - Jesse Quattro - a one woman Oaktown wonder (props Jessie)!
Had dinner with my ex-girlfriend Jill Krueger today at Sushi Groove in SF. I'm getting into and out of Yelp.com real quick like. Still staying on a boat in the Embarcadero Cove Marina. Still hobbling around with a cane and moving very slowly. I'm headed to San Jose, CA tomorrow for two days.

I have a crush on Jesse the bartender (always have, always will). Jerry Brown, ex-mayor of Oakland used to sit right where I'm sitting (now top cop for the state of California). Sarah Wheeler rocks! (top pic left). MT's b-day bash was a smash hit (right on Sparky and Steele).

Talking Argentina with the other bar guy (Tom)... I think he's the brother of the other cute blonde bartender Robin (nope). She's heading to South America to visit me and then marry a mate farmer. I'll send her to Paraguay
Nick Cave is doing his thing on the in-house stereo.

Photo's Captions:

1. MT doin' his silly crazy cowboy with my 4x Stettson beaver hat. Sarah Wheeler on the left and Michelle Alexander to the right. HAAY!
2. That's Goyo on the left, sexy-Debra in the middle and the lucious Mei Mei Han on the right.
3. And there they are... the lucky couple. Sparky gave us her incredibly soulful rendition of Amazing Grace by Darren 'The Cool' Dentists backyard fire pit and MT (aka SUPER BLACKSICAN silently went to sleep).
   

Happy 40th my brother.

Weddings and Water

Living out of a rolling suitcase on a thirty-something foot fishing boat (big time thanks Matt and CONGRATULATIONS Sherry on the new family edition*) berthed in the Oakland 'Marina Cove' marina, suffering from an attempt-at-dancing injury last Thursday night while out on the town for Pete's 'last night on the town as a single guy' night, cutting a rug with MT at the Silver Cloud in San Francisco's Marina district and this pretty monster storm is blowing through and its damn cold. The head onshore at the top of what now seems like a long ramp seems really far away, and I can barely even walk. My knee just popped out, all of a sudden-like - sideways - and now I'm on the Disabled List or the 'DL', like those guys in the majors, awaiting proper treatment when I get back to Buenos Aires.**

But I'm wireless on the boat, works going well... and the catalyst that sparked this trip home to California was this monumental wedding - Peter Kruse and Blair Campbell are now MARRIED! And OMG... what a wedding it was. Not only was it a great party with all of my closest friends in beautiful San Francisco settings - The Swedenborg church Hotel along the cable car tracks, with a view across all of and then The University Club at 800 Powell Street at the corner of California on the side of Nob Hill, right below the FairmontSF's majestic skyline (pics soon) - but it was a great union between these two lives, crossing at this point and merging together.

Danny got the squirrel story wrong but it worked anyways, causing a low-level stir that began as a whisper, then rising to a hum across the room as the wedding-revelers dining gracefully at the lovely candle-lit white tables began turning towards one another with expressions of morbid curiosity and 'oh no... this must be a joke. He didn't really do that'. No joke people. We ate squirrel catchatoire down there in Cambria California at Matt's b-party. It was good, just perhaps a wee bit 'rabbity'.

Cal Santos wasn't even the drunk guy, it was Disco Bisket's guy from Ireland with the gay dentist downtown with all the broadway musical posters in his office. Everyone thoroughly enjoyed themselves, even the Shelves. Keith and Mandy hung tight, Fortner and Kimber looked bright and even Dukes and Harper stayed on throughout the night. Pato and I ended up with the latest of the late crowd at the Bamboodha Lounge, where my camera finally died. Pato tried and he tried (even told a couple of girls that I worked for the LA Times) but we finally gave up (last call) and off to the East Bay we did fly.

Now Pete and Blair are in Croatia. SUERTE!

* Sherry gave birth to her second baby girl this morning around 3:30am and all sounded well. Super Dave got called off the Res Ipsa next door to watch Violet Honeysuckle, their first daughter, while Sherry and Matt were down at the hospital.

** From what I've gathered up to this point, there's a one-two week period that patients wait through for the swelling to go down before any medical treatment is performed. If I had health insurance I'd go see a doctor. I was investigating different private health care options in Argentina before I left and was getting ready to sign up and I came back to CA. And in the USofA, helth care is fucking expensive, even if you have a good plan at your job.

*** Thanks to EVERYONE (yes Pato, you too) for all the helping hands since I've been back visiting California.

Coastline Design

sigh...

Epic Poker, Epic Spot, Epic Weekend

That's PTK on the right, with the beard. He's getting married in less than two weeks! One of my closest and dearest friends, he also hunts and eats arboreal, bushy-tailed rodents of the genus Sciurus, of the family Sciuridae - aka SQUIRRELS (best diet in the forrest - nuts and berries)! Go Pete GO and CONGRATS!! Super stoked I could make it up from BsAs for the festivities.

Overview of Tomales Bay, NorCal

Beautiful country indeed - Tomales Bay

Ken Shelf

Ken didn't like his last name and wanted to change it to something more... utilitarian, so he picked 'Shelf'. This picture was taken up on the CA coast at Dillion Beach near Tomales Bay, CA. Visit www.theshelves.com for more.

Carla in San Jose

I'm hot, I'm 22 and I'm Brazilian... ta bien?

El Farolito, San Francisco's Mission District

Some of the best Mexican food in the world is made in California... NOT Mexico and CERTAINLY not Argentina. Que viva carne asada burritos!

Ride the Whirlwind

It’s 1am - Buenos Aires - and I haven’t even started to pack. Since my Argentine visa expired a few months ago and I need to travel back to CA for PTK’s and BC’s wedding, I decide I need to be at the BUE airport early to deal with the immigration officials to ensure a successful departure out of the country… better leave at 4am for a 7am flight.

After a $50AR ($17USD) fine at the airport for the expired visa (sin problemas), more than twenty hours of flying on three seperate flights through Lima and then San Salvador (first time flying into Salvador after sixteen years), I finally make it back to my home state of California, just in time for a super carne asada burrito at El Farolito in the Mission and a Bohemia beer with Cal Santos, who graciously met me at SFO, not only providing a couch to crash on but an entire room to disengage from the whirl.

Then there was one full day to debrief, fight off jet lag and then a good twelve hours of sleep before it was back it – up at 5:30am to catch a 6:20am train to San Jose, just over an hour south of San Francisco for non-stop meetings both day and night with other team mates from across the country. Then a Friday afternoon run back up to SF in hellacious Friday afternoon traffic, on to BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) and then over to West Oakland where DM was waiting in the BMW Z3, up to Pato’s place in Berkeley, hop into the Jag and on up to Dillon Beach on the California coast at Tamales Bay just an hour north of SF. What an amazing place - the northern California coast - like no other place on earth.

But enough about me… here’s some recent pics.

Bush is Back in Latin America

GW is heading south again but won't make Argentina one of his stops after his last visit in November of 2005 when Argentines took to the streets in protest and burned McDonalds and the Bank of Boston. Or perhaps the Bush twins made such a scene when they came here to celebrate their 25th birthdays - for two full weeks - that he's not too eager to return.

Check out this article on his jorney south, quoting the President saying "The working poor of Latin America need change, and the United States of America is committed to that change." Really?

The article also mentions Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez, "a fiery leftist who recently called Bush the "king of liars," [will] also will be on the road. He'll host an anti-Bush rally in Buenos Aires, Argentina, on Friday in advance of Bush's stop in neighboring Uruguay." Can't believe I'm gonna miss this one!

Bummer in the Bombonera for Boca Jrs.

Got up late, threw on some clothes and cruised down to La Boca with Luis to get tix for todays futbol match against arch rivals San Lorenzo. We found two entradas for $35AR each on the street, bought some Boca fanwear - gifts for friends back home - and sat down at the street parilla on Almirante Brown, the one set against the open fields in front of the stadium just down from the Casa Amarilla and macked downn on vacio (tri tip) sandwhiches. DAMN they were good!

This was my third Boca Jrs. match and I finally made it to the bara brava or La 12 or La Hinchada de La Boca, the hard-core Boca Jrs. fan base inside La Bombonera. Despite the riot cops scatterd everywhere, it was pretty tranquilo. I only saw one guy get robbed, no beatings, a few people nearly trampled when everyone is forced to jump, got pushed by the same riot cops with the batons on the way out, pero mas o menos todo bien.

Unfortunately, Boca got slaughtered 3-0 and it was painful to watch. Afterwards, we saw a gringo walking with a couple of friends amidst the throngs of people escaping La Boca get jacked by three dudes passing in the opposite direction. One guy grabed him around the neck and pulled him to the ground while the other two tried to strip his pockets of thier contents as his friends stood by watching, stuned. Just as I was about to run over to help, he struggled free, got up and they just looked around and walked away, with nothing.

We hit El Rincon Salteño for a couple of beers, a chori, grilled provoleta and some excellent french fries. Que dia!

The Great Continental Divide

Quick reminder - Argentina is the southern most country in South America, below Brazil in the east and bordering Chile to the west and Bolivia and Paraguay to the north and east again. South America, refers to the continent of South America, right? Actually, no... you see, it depends.

After hanging out one night at The Shamrock Pub in Recoleta last week, the continental dividing issue reared its ugly head in casual conversation with a couple of local porteñas asking me where I was from.

Geography Pop Quiz: How many continents are there? But wait... for all of you people up there in North America that just answered SEVEN, we, you're fellow Americans down here in SOUTH America classify Argentina as part of just - America. Argentines are taught that there are FIVE continents NOT including Antarctica.

The online dictionary.com site (Random House Unabridged, 2006) gives this definition of continent - "one of the main landmasses of the globe, usually reckoned as seven in number (Europe, Asia, Africa, North America, South America, Australia, and Antarctica)."

Several variations and definitions on how to define and count the continents exist. The best resource I've found is this excellent wikipedia article, saying that there are three models, five, six and SEVEN continents in the world.

One of my biggest shifts in perspective after having lived outside of the United States for over a year now is that I'm beginning to feel much more like a citizen of the world as opposed to my country of nationality - USA. Nationality in the 21st century has to be seen globally - perceptively speaking - IMHO.

And what's up with Europe getting classified as a continent when the land mass continues into Asia? Again, it depends on your perspective, whether you're a geographer and see India as a separate continent, a plate tectonics expert looking beyond the visible land mass or grew up in Latin America which considers itself simply as American.

And what does it mean to be an American? Down here in South America, we feel just as American as those who think that being American means people from the United States only, surely a bit limited in perspective, no? Sure, we've all probably thought about this at one point or another on some trip somewhere (ie - is Central America part of North or South America)?

But when it comes up in the context of dividing continents for Argentines, they get very upset when I merely communicate that we in the U.S. learn there are SEVEN continents. They immediately and quite obviously perturbed answer back - "NO, you Yankee's can't go dividing up America. We're the SAME as you!" You see how this gets complicated? Also, in Spanish, the correct term for someone that is from the United States is Estado Unidense, literally a citizen from the United States. And there lies the dichotomy - there is no equivalent word in English - we just say American.

* - the photos above were both taken at the Valle de la Luna National Park in the North of Argentina on a trip with Dave and Mei last year.

Yo Tomo

"Tomo para no enamorarme. Me enamoro para no tomar." La Bersuit Vergarabat



IMHO (in my humble opinion) Bersuit is the best band in Argentina. Thanks for that tip Burro.

The Sheltering Argentine Sky

Laying on the couch, sweating my ass off from what feels like – from what I’ve read recently – Dengue fever, the afternoon wind lightly rustling the broad leaves of the twin palms out in the center of the courtyard patio, just cracking open David Foster Wallace’s Infinite Jest for the first time (very self-indulgent at 1,079 pages) and my lovely but sometimes slightly nutty neighbor Natalia nearly startles me to death as she enters the room through the door that has been left open to help cool this fever, standing there backlit and basking in the evening South American sunshine.

“May I store a suitcase in your place for just an hour… till Web gets here? The police may show up at my place any second now,” she adds matter-of-factly, in that lower-class London accent of hers, emphasis on second.

“What’s in the suitcase?” I ask, out of curiosity more than anything.

“Oh… just papers and such from the office, nothing much,” she replies with a devilish school-girl smile.

I chide her about making her whole international lawyer conspiracy drama into much more than it really is and the fact that her apartment won't be searched and she won't be hauled off to jail. She agrees.

Off she waltzs and I go back to the boat-anchor of a book to stave off boredom while sweating off this nasty fever and sore body. I had just finished Graham Greene's The Honorary Consul, set on the scenic shores of Corrientes, Argentina up on the Rió Paraná (1) across from Paraguay - the honorable Dr. Eduardo Plarr and of course the 'honorary' consul himself - Señor Charley Fortnum and his 'shipmasters measures' of whiskey. The first time I tried to read it I had put it down in disgust after 40 or 50 pages, not enjoying the writing style at all. No sense of place - I've been to Corrientes, spent the night there with Sam Slaughter on the way to Paraguay once - but now, the writing seemed too formal, dry... British. But the second time I picked it up I could hardly set it down and thoroughly enjoyed it, my first by Graham Greene.

Mr. Foster Wallace on the other hand, that's my contemporary meta-fiction guy. Two percent of the way into the book and I know I like it, maybe not quite as much if I didn't like tennis but probably still so. Its like a giant never-ending lollie pop as opposed to something not only just long but truly remarkable such as Gravity's Rainbow or even Don Quixote for that matter. I don't know. But I'm gonna make the time.

Natalia comes back in wheeling this enormous, larger than life GIANT roller suitcase, almost as big as herself, and carefully stands it up in the corner, all luggage and ID tags removed.

"So how you feelin' then?" she asks, looking at my pathetic figure sinking deeply into the couch. "Not so hot, eh?" pun probably not intended.



1 - These pictures were taken on a short road trip to Rosário, which is also along the Río Paraná but much closer to Buenos Aires than Corrientes.

Nothing….

Nothing to say, really… and I’ve got no new interesting photos to post either. I can say that I think the worst of the minor aches and pains and scratches from the car crash – more mental than anything I suppose - are over. And supposedly I get to pick up my repaired 17-40 f/4 wide angle zoom lens AND flash today from the authorized Canon service center here in Buenos Aires - $130USD out the door - cheaper than insurance!

Also, Boca Juniors soccer team lost last night during penalty kicks to their famous BA rivals – River. Other than that, I am both very thankful and relieved that these January mishaps are finally over and now its time to move on to February 2007… and happy 74th birthday Pop!