Picturesque Ireland

London Calling

I think we came up with the idea of taking a photo near these red
phone booths. We are a clever lot.

A Mac and a Round Head

Germany puts a man through many changes.

See Yourself Shine

A commercial for Joy dishwasher detergent. I love the overacting of the 1960s.

Can't We All Just Get Along?

Can't We All Just Get Along?
Originally uploaded by macron

From graffiti in Rome. Was the artist expressing a political point, practicing English, or giving his condemnation of Lucky Charms?

No Vatican for You!

No Vatican for You!
Originally uploaded by macron

Evidentially, amputees cannot enter the kingdom of God.

Eric's Roman Statue Jamboree

Johnny C's Twin Statue

IMG_0126.JPG
Originally uploaded by macron

From a museum in Rome: I thought this statue looked similar to the actor John C. Reily.

Boys, Be Ambitious

Cupcakes

Cupcakes
Originally uploaded by macron

Kristie made lemoncello cupcakes for our dinner party tonight. I'm a lucky guy, having a wife who makes lemoncello desserts!

I'll make sure that Danny DeVito stays away from them.

Love the Teddy, Hate the Teacher

It's a religion of peace.

Colosseum in Rome

Just in case you didn't know, the Italians made it easy for you to
know where to snap a photo.

Is There a Difference?

For those who think all religions are alike: Take a look at this story.

Where are those voices rising up in protest at the inhumanity? Oh wait...nobody speaks out against Islam.

Here's another to review. I'm sure we'll see the outrage in the media on par with Imus and Michael Richards. You can't just go insulting Christians publicly, can you? What would happen if this Jewish man made comments insulting Islam?

You shall know them by their fruits...

Dummy

Dummy
Originally uploaded by macron

This kid could kill someone at night. Are the Irish afraid?

Oh Boyle!

We met my Uncle Tommy and his wife Carol on Friday night. We went to a pub, and it was exactly how I'd imagine it: regular customers, drunk men, barflies making playful comments with the bartender, and everyone knew Tommy. He was the Boyle Norm. Everybody knew his name.

One man, Mickey, came to the table and pronounced his love to Kristie. Normally, I'd be threatened, but this geezer had only two or three teeth, perhaps needed to chew the suds of his Guinness. Another man came up and pretended that I was Kristie's dad. He was a little man wrapped in the biggest, puffiest coat you could imagine. He looked like a hot dog wrapped in a loaf of Wonder Bread. If this weren't bad enough, he had the longest nose hair I have ever seen. It wasn't the usual curly ones that poke out, nor was it in a gang that sprouts. Rather, this was an inch-long string, like a repeller would drop down before exploring an underground cave. I was transfixed watching it sway with his breaths, like a metronome clicking to and fro counting time.

We went to my mom's house, school, and church, as well as visiting the graves of my grandparents. It was an excellent trip, perhaps one of the best.

Superhero Identity Crisis

What's wrong with this picture?

Upcoming Ireland

Kristie and I are going to Ireland, this weekend to visit my mother's hometown and her brother, Tommy. I've never met the chap, but I've had some interesting conversations with him on the phone. We are meeting them the night of a birthday party in a pub (I'm still not sure whose birthday it is). Imagine this: a loud pub, an uncle I don't know, a step-aunt who was my mom's friend as a child, throngs of strangers, and Kristie and me. That's a recipe for success! And what does one get an Irish stranger for his or her birthday? An Irish joke book? A Guinness key fob? Knickers?

I'll probably have a beer.

TeacherTube

Teachers are often six to eight years behind the popular culture, and this video proves it. Teachers are now talking about podcasting and blogging in the classroom as if they were invented last night. Perhaps this Johnny-come-lately attitude explains the dated fashions of American educators. If you don't believe me, stick your head in the next teacher conference in your town.

Rapping about perimeters is just embarrassing. No wonder the dropout rate is so high.

Word.

Updated Photos

Take a look at my updated Flickr page to see photos from the latest trips. They include Brussels, Madrid, Naples, and France.

Urinating Statues

Brussels:


Pompeii:


I appreciate good art.

More Madrid

See more of our Madrid photos.

A Starbucks Warning

This isn't a sign you see in the NW 23rd Starbucks in Portland.

Kristie and the Bloodthirsty Crowd

This is when we had enough of the event. Notice the guy to Kristie's right. I think Hemingway was there, cigar and all. My 10th grade teacher was right about Hemmy watching bullfights in Madrid.

The Bullfight

We thought it was a good idea to attend a bullfight in Madrid. They happen only on Sundays, so we took the train to the arena and bought our tickets. We found our seats, right next to another pair of Americans. Were we in the forign section so we can be outraged together?



The bull comes out and runs around while five men dance and prance to incite the animal. As the bull passes, they try to stab him in the back with daggers. Taunting the bull with pink capes and stabbing him with little swords hardly seems fair. The bull has five colored swords stuck in his back; he looks like a woman in curlers. I find myself wanting the bull to win. It's only fair that a man dies once in awhile. I'm not bloodthirsty or anything. I'm a fan of justice.



The matador then stabs the larger sword into the bull. Even from our far-away seats, we can see the blood. The bull is cornered and scared and weak. He stumbles around. The matador moves in closer to stare at him, displaying some kind of power. Finally, the bull falls and the crowd goes wild. Kristie and I look horrified. Another guy goes in and stabs the bull a few more times to ensure he is dead. The band plays fanfare, while the carcass is attached to horses and dragged around the stadium displaying the "triumph." Kristie was to leave, but I think we should stay for another. I hope the bull wins this one. As I learned from The Breakfast Club, "If you want to play with the bulls, you're going to get it with the horns."




I think PETA would have a problem with this. Last night, we walked by a McDonalds, and there was a protest by a group of never-do-wells decrying the treatment of animals. Perhaps those folks should be outside this arena as it is worse. At least people eat the McAnimals. Oh wait...It's acceptable to protest all things American, but not the customs of other countries.

The bull charged this guy and bounced him on his horns. He looked injured, andf I think that is only fair. There should be a circle of life here once in a while. I want the bull to be the victor like I wanted Russell Crowe to win in Gladiator. It's rooting for the underdog. It's rooting for justice in nature.

Here's an idea: match the matadors against the protesters. I'd pay to see that.

Mr. T, Madrid, and Me

I began the morning watching an episode of The A-Team dubbed in Spanish. Either my Spanish is better than I thought or the storylines for this show are thread-bare, but I understood the show. The voice dubbing Mr. T sounded like a monster from Clash of the Titans. Perhaps the Spaniards need some help with their stereotypes of American Blacks.

In the episode, Murdoch was injured, and the rest of the team tried to obtain medical supplies in the most complicated way possible. Interspersed were flashbacks to the good times the gang had with crazy-ole Murdoch. At the end, there was a montage of scenes of the guy-crushing between B.A. and Murdoch with a synthesizer-heavy ballad about being best friends.

If this is the start of our vacation in Spain, how can it get any better?