Problem and Solution

so i finally managed to find a pair of basketball shoes that were long enough for my feet. they felt fine when i tried them on in the store. when i played in them for longer than an hour though, i realized that my exceptionally fat feet were being rubbed raw on both of my pinky toes. they looked pretty bad, but i needed to find a solution. lo and behold, farmacity had just the thing. these:

i'll keep you posted on how they go this saturday.

Bad U.S. Movies on Argentine Cable Series #2

with halloween rapidly approaching, the time is ripe for some scary movies on tv and our favorite film channel cinecanal has been running some every week for the entire month of october. looking for a good scare, we decided upon Stephen King's film adaption of his book "Pet Sematary" [sic]. even though we didn't recognize any of the names involved with this project in directing or acting, the Stephen King pedigree was good enough to pique our collective interest.

the film follows a husband and wife with two young-ish children and a cat who move to some remote town where high amounts of trucker traffic goes by the street in front of their house. the father, portrayed by a stiff piece of wood, meets the next door neighbor whom Liz picked out as Herman Munster. that was kind of exciting. i remember in elementary school that he illustrated some kids books that took various turns of phrase literally. i couldn't remember the title last night, but i have since found it at amazon.com. not long after, Monica spotted that the son is portrayed by the same kid who had some fairly memorable lines from the great Kindergarten Cop. the father, spending a fair amount of time with Herman Munster, finds out about the pet sematary being some Indian burial site (of course) that can bring whatever is buried there back from the dead. only it turns things worse, mean, or evil (or all three) when they come back. naturally, the young son experiences death by incompetent trucker. the father, not taking the loss very well, steals his son's body and buries it in the title of the film. this is the point that many bad things start happening.

i've never read any of Stephen King's books, but i've heard that they usually have some deeper point to them (e.g. "the shining" is about how alcoholism can destroy a family). i'm certain that the novel "pet sematary' is actually a wise meditation upon loss and how an inability to accept it and grieve can have disastrous consequences. this does not come across in the movie near as well and in its stead we get bizarre subplots regarding a dead guy (who is eerily reminiscent of Massive Headwound Harry) that tries to warn the father, the mother's traumatic experience as a girl with her sister's strange spinal illness, and some weird maid whom commits suicide and is not mentioned for the rest of the film.

i feel as if "pet sematary" the novel was buried in the indian ground and came back as the worse, mean, and evil film "pet sematary." somehow, it managed to spawn a sequel "pet sematary 2." the first movie's tagline was "sometimes dead is better." i guess they didn't heed their own recommendation.

high point: SPOILER! when the son jumps out of the attic to attack the dad near the end of the film, it reminded me of the bunny from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." man, that bunny was HI-larious. END SPOILER!

low point: apparently the producers conned the ramones into penning and playing the film's title song that plays during the end credits. just read the lyrics here. if you can find a place to stream it, make you sure you have something near you to prevent the bleeding that will start from your ears.

"yeah, right" moment: when Stephen King makes a cameo as a priest. no religious body in their right mind would ordain someone that creepy looking.

Surprise Series #4

today the three of us took the bus out to a different part of buenos aires called matadero. a bit to the south, the barrio puts on a street fair every sunday that is supposedly "gaucho themed." sure enough, we did end up seeing people dressed in traditional gaucho gear, riding horses and doing feats of accuracy upon them, but this was not the surprising part (although seeing people in old clothes on horses riding them on paved streets lined with cars makes for a funny picture). on our way back to the bus stop, we saw quite the crowd gathered on a hillside watching something. that something turned out to be a dj with a guy playing master of ceremonies, soliciting members of the crowd to come up and dance. while this sounds harmless enough, the male m.c. only asked attractive female crowd members to dance to the raggaeton music, which for those unfamiliar, is latin-inspired rap for the most part. and so these female crowd members each took a turn gyrating their goods suggestively for the assembled crowd while the m.c. made off-color remarks, often embarrassing the girl. for me, this seemed mostly bizarre due to the fact that there were tons of people watching and it was only about 5 in the afternoon, but the first big surprise is that this was being attended by families. tons of little kids everywhere with their parents. i have no idea how this passes as family entertainment, but apparently it was. the second, and perhaps more astonishing surprise, was that in return for dancing in front of everyone, the m.c. offered them pirated copies of popular movies on dvd. i'm at a loss for what to make of this, but i guess i'm down here to garner new experiences, and this was certainly one of them. that is all.

A Book and An Album

Two Mini Reviews for you tonight.

i recently finished reading "the jungle" by upton sinclair. i had never read it in high school and had heard many good things. conveniently, Monica had also brought it with her and we only have so many english books. following the story of a lithuanian immigrant named Jurgis Rudkus, i was generally disappointed in the first third of the book, which is where the much heralded exposure of the improprieties of the meat packing industry takes place. while done effectively, the narrative often lagged at times and became a laundry list of the various abuses. the second third picked up significantly and was easily my favorite piece of the novel as the plot started to go places and moral questions about what a person should do to survive moved to the forefront. however, my hopes were dashed by an extremely lackluster final third that was, more or less, an informational tract about the glories of the socialist party. while i can recognize why this book is regarded well, i found most of its prose stilted and the plot too dry. you can take it or leave it. i kind of wish i would've left it.

the album i recently acquired was "in rainbows" by radiohead. quite a bit of hubbub surrounds this album since radiohead is not currently signed to a record label and decided to distribute this entirely through their website at any cost one so chooses, even zero. as long as you don't spend an exorbitant amount on this, the album is worth every penny, and probably much more so for many people that only paid a penny. while many of the songs sound wonderful individually, they work more cohesively as an album. "15 step" and "bodysnatchers" gently build into the core: the darker, beautiful "all i need." a tight sound works its way throughout the rest of the album with gloom around the edges and culminates in "videotape." albums like this make me sad for other groups because they likely can't live up to it. definitely worth checking out.

Surprise Series #3

coming down to argentina, i was excited at the prospect of getting to play basketball while down here. when i was in england, i was forced to take up soccer/futbol. i was going to have none of that down here because, although it is the land of futbol, argentina is the reigning olympic champion in basketball and claims several nba players including manu ginobili, walter hermann, andres nocioni, carlos delfino, fabricio oberto....the list ends at about right there. surely i would be able to find some place to play pick up games. surely enough, i did.

however, i haven't had a legitimate pair of basketball shoes since i played my junior year in high school and currently don't even own a true athletic shoe. to remedy this, i decided to swing by one of the several shoe stores that line the street around the corner from my house. i knew how to ask for basketball shoes but decided i would look around on my own until i was approached by an employee. every shoe seemed to go to about 12 and so i shortly inquired with a staff person. in the first store it turns out they had nothing larger than 12.5. i went to the next store. they took me to the xxl section and showed me size 12s. two other stores had nothing larger. i am a 13 minimum and 14 depending on the brand. needless to say, i'm still looking for shoes.

people here aren't exactly short, so i'm chalking this up as (unpleasant) surprise #3. feel my pain.

Bad U.S. Movies on Argentine Cable Series #1

adding to the somewhat surreal mixture of culture that can be found in argentina is the prevalence of u.s. movies on argentine tv. as i have been trying to keep costs down for the most part, many nice, quiet nights have been spent in the apartment and what comes on tv is a veritable grab bag. this series, inspired by Nathan Rabin's fabulous "My Year of Flops" on the avclub.com, will seek to break down these bad movies to see if they posses any redeemable qualities.

first on the docket is 2005's "Cry_Wolf." that is not a typo. cry underscore wolf. this movie boasts such talent and notable names like director jeff wadlow and actors julian morris and lindy booth. now you know why the movie poster has nothing but the movie title on it. i cannot tell you how overjoyed i was when gary cole, bill lumbergh from office space, appeared in a supporting role. i cannot tell you how crestfallen i was when job bon jovi also appeared in a supporting role. seeing job bon jovi in a film is akin to reading Dante's inscription over the gates of hell: you know only worse is yet to come.

and yet, this movie has a premise that was bound to draw me in given my history as a camp counselor and avid game player. several snooty private high school kids get together to play a variation on the wonderful camp game mafia, which they simply call "wolf." who doesn't love mafia? when that gets boring, they decide to start a rumor in school about a serial killer who targets private school kids. and then the main character continually sees someone around campus matching that description. in case this actually sounds like a mildly interesting premise, jumpy camera work to disguise a lack of real action, stilted acting, and a lot of exposition that comes via chatting with instant messenger smothers any flicker of promise. like most suspense/scary movies these days, a plot twist is essential. however, when considering the twist in relation to how it would function in everything that happened in the previous 1.5 hours, it really makes little sense.

do yourself a favor and do not watch this movie unless you are a jumpy eleven year old girl looking to get scared but not too scared, you are with a bunch of friends playing the game mafia during a thunderstorm and you need something on in the background (though it pales to playing "clue" while watching "clue" in the dark), or your name is Lisa Schensted because you may actually like this.

high point: SPOILER! when jon bon jovi gets shot through the heart. i couldn't resist. END SPOILER!

low point: every scene involving any actor apart from gary cole.

"yeah, right" moment: when the imaginary serial killer "wolf" communicates via instant messenger, his or her screen name is "wolf." there is no way that this name was not already taken.

Surpise Series #2

while my friend down here Liz may have beat me to the mention of surprise #2, she definitely did not flesh out the story in its entirety. without further ado, the apple fish milk story.

within the first week in arriving, we had yet to make it to the large grocery store and were doing most of our shopping out of a smaller market ran my some kindly asian looking people. one of the first items on our list was orange juice. Liz made her way over to the refrigerated aisle and picked up the one that had an orange on the cover and said "naranja." seemed fairly fool proof. so we get home and crack it open only to learn that it really is an orange juice mixed with soy milk. while not bad, per se, it was not exactly what we had been hoping for. so at this point we were able to establish that sometime people down here will mix milk and juice. there was precedent.

shortly thereafter we go to the larger grocer and while the three of us are looking around, i spot legitimate orange juice, tropicana style. it wasn't in the refrigerated goods but with the rest of the consumable liquids. so we know that real orange juice exists.

a couple mornings later, Liz wakes up earlier than either Monica or me (this is not a rare occurrence) and decided to be so kind as to run to the store and buy some ingredients to surprise us sleepy heads with breakfast. hoping to buy some apple juice, Liz tries to be very careful not to get anything with milk in it. after thoroughly scouring the refrigerated items, she grabs the one box that has apples all over it. "surely," i can only imagine she thought to herself, "this can't possibly have any milk in it even though it is next to all the other milk products and not near any of the other normal juices. i shall purchase this post haste."

shortly after she had finished making breakfast, Monica and I arose to enjoy the fruits of her labor and extreme kindness. when Monica spys the apple juice, she double checks that Liz did not buy apple milk again. Liz quickly responds that "this is the only one i found that doesn't say milk on it." however, the box does advertise that it contains significant portions of omega 3, that fat that is supposedly good for you and most prevalent in fish. so i look at the box more closely and, sure enough, under ingredients it mentions both "leche" and something that i believe roughly translated to "fish paste." we pour it out and instead of the yellowish, clear liquid that one typically gets with apple juice, we instead find a milky white substance pouring into our cups.

to describe the taste of this is easy. imagine one part milk mixed with one part sour apple blow-pops flavoring. really, this item was a miracle of modern science that something that had the texture and look of milk could taste so fake-apple-ly. thankfully there was no lingering taste of the fish paste.....as long as you weren't looking for it. needless to say, neither Monica nor Liz were too impressed so i got to have a tall glass of apple-fish-milk to myself every morning for the next week.

La Jetée

i recently watched the short film "La Jetée" directed by Chris Marker and released in 1962. topping out around 26 minutes, the film weaves an intriguing apocalypse/time travel plot through the use of still photograph, narration, and some ambient sound effects.

i had initially found out about this film several months ago when it was being highlighted and released by the criterion collection which noted that it had been the inspiration for Terry Gilliam's "12 Monkeys." this fact effectively piqued my interest though i was skeptical about how effective the story would be told given its unique presentation and short running-time. i also feared it would be dated (as most sci-fi films from the 60s are) which would dampen its overall impact.

the film, simply put, was dynamic. the black and white photography created striking visuals that immediately smacked of realism, placing this science fiction story into a believable setting. the shortened running-time yielded a strong, lean plot that was refreshing in its directness and lack of flourish. although i often tend to eschew narration in films as lazy storytelling and dislike the fact that it removes the audience from the mood, "La Jetée" overcame this trap through the use of the sound effects. every time the indistinct murmurs of the scientists arose or the ambient noises of Orly, i found myself successfully getting caught in the atmosphere of the story. the use of still photography also gave the film a timeless look that held up very well, leaving several pieces to the imagination.

i've avoided touching on the plot, by and large, for fear i would give anything away. at a very brisk 26 minutes, i recommend just taking the time and watching it. since it can be found in its entirety on the google video website, you have no excuse. see this wonderful exercise in science fiction, story-telling, and film.

Surprise Series #1

ah yes, it is now time for the first post in the surprise series - a group of posts that will reflect strange, surprising encounters i am having while here in south america.

shortly after moving into my apartment upon arrival in san telmo and with much time on my hands, one of my favorite activities was to walk around the city and start the acclimation process. san telmo was a perfect place to begin: old architecture, interesting cafes, bizarre antiques stores. while heading down calle peru one afternoon, i was taken aback at something i saw on the window of a small resto bar called the harlem deli. its logo had a very racist caricature of a black person. two days later at the grocery store, we found that the brand blancaflor also depicted a very outdated cartoon of a black woman on all of its various food products.

although buenos aires has the definite feel of a very cosmopolitan city, we have noticed a conspicuous dearth of black people and i can only surmise that the lack of that population allows this kind of stereotype to continue to be perpetrated in such pervasive ways. i don't know much about the history of racism against any group in argentina and i have had no indication that any is present, but it makes me wonder what i'm not aware of yet. IRregardless, seeing these kinds of images in separate places was off-putting and quite the surprise.

a misleading title that will give nothing away about the amusing nature of my anecdote and the resulting post

back in the days of my youth, many many moons ago, i spent several months of my life plying my basketball skills on the high school varsity team. early in the season at a weekend tournament, parents from the booster club handed a questionnaire for the players to fill out which would eventually end up in the programs sold at district games. the typical questions were all present including favorite music, school subject, food, etc. since i liked playing basketball but did not care for all of the silly frivolities that accompanied playing sports at a large high school, i paid very little attention to my answers while making sarcastic jokes about potential responses. i turned it in quickly and gave no thought to it afterwards.

when the district games rolled around and programs were sold, several of my friends from the JV team began to give me a hard time about my "player bio." among several straight-forward answers, apparently my response to the favorite food query was "RED MEAT!" now, at the time i was fairly sure that i had not included caps in my writing or an exclamation point and that i had been misrepresented. then i realized that i really do love red meat and didn't care because it was a stupid basketball program that only my parents would keep, probably thinking that i would one day cherish it along with my enlarged photo of me in action during a game. man, i hate that picture.

which brings me to the point of this post: i love eating red meat. i love its texture. i love its color. i love the way it melts in your mouth and the way the natural juices explode onto your palate creating a meaty, bloody mutant gusher that i wish they would've created (gushers being a candy from my youth, many many moons ago, that had a gummy outside and "fruit" juice innards). thankfully for me, argentina has red meat in spades and i have exposed myself to its various delights and incarnations since being down here.

at "la brigada" it was a t-bone steak with black pepper crushed on the exterior. while i typically order my meat medium rare, at this fine parrilla (castellano for "grill") they only give it to you "raro." i opted to take their recommendation since they seemed to know a thing or two about steak. it was immaculate. the best steak i've had in my long, long life. a couple weeks later at the same establishment, it was a circle cut rib-eye that makes my mouth water and fingers quiver to recall it.

this past week i had the luxury of eating at "la estancia." the restaurant is located on an exclusively pedestrian street and has two large windows as its main exterior. the large windows are needed to show off the flayed animals roasting slowly over a wood fire. i did not even need to see the menu; i was going to have flayed animal roasted slowly over a wood fire. and so i did. turns out it was goat, served on a sizzling hot plate that made the tallow sizzle where it touched. the cut included the bone in and allowed you to see the layers of the animal. additionally, this permitted me to get the perfect mixture of meat and fat that forms a beautiful combination along the lines of peanut butter and chocolate, freshly cut Minnesota grass and barefooted-ness, or sitting around the house and team DuSted. the whole dining experience was not hurt by the fact that i got to play clean-up duty on my companions' sirloin, t bone, and roast chicken.

the ridiculous bit about all of this is that red meat here is cheap. whether it's steaks at restaurants or ground beef and chorizo at meat markets, this does not set you back. this can be every single day if you want. i may one day have to retire back to argentina solely for the inexpensive red meats and wine, you know, assuming i ever get a job which would allow me to technically retire. and that may be asking a lot.

here is the picture of the actual meat from "la brigada." RED MEAT!

two genres for the price of one

some of the things that i hope do be doing with this blog is to record bizarre/interesting experiences that i'm having while down in buenos aires. another is to give mini-reviews about various books, movies, and music that i encounter while down here. well, tonight you get both.

compliments of my friend Liz's dad's cousin's friend who is an actor down here, i was able to acquire tickets tonight to a show being performed at the teatro maipo (for those of you who no hablo espanol, that means maipo theater). the provider of the tickets had told me it was a cabaret-esque performance. what i was unaware of until my arrival at the theater was that the players were transvestites. eight total: four men in men's clothes, three men in women's clothes, and one woman in woman's clothes. upon our entrance several of the queens had explosive wigs on and full eighties-style prom dresses. there was also one dressed up similarly to David Bowie from the 1980 "Ashes to Ashes" music video. and one in nothing but a loin cloth and masquerade ball mask. and one in a gorilla suit. they milled around, took pictures with the audience, sat people, and interacted.

the show itself then started and was a series of costume changes, dance, and lip-syncing, drawing mostly from u.s. and french popular culture. we were treated to rita hayworth, mae west, edith piaf, and marilyn monroe. we saw a re-enactment of the famous scene in sunset boulevard. we even got to experience a dance routine that featured a near-comatose woman in a wheelchair. and just to make sure we were all paying attention, most of the performances included someone starting in skimpy clothing or disrobing throughout the course of it. the best example of this reminded me heavily of the performance of the dude's landlord in "the big lebowski" as two men in thongs with gigantic cod pieces moved slowly to an instrumental as a camera moving through a forest was projected behind them.

is this a must see if you happen to come to buenos aires? most definitely not. however, i laughed, i cried, and i loved. ok, fine. i didn't cry or love. but i did laugh, so a good time was had by all.

the first thing that i see fit

i think i'm just going to use this primarily for the enjoyment of my friends Andrew and Lisa. although if anyone else happens to stumble upon it, so be it.

so you'll get to hear about random stories that i'm experiencing while i'm down in argentina. this will likely include at some point stories about milk that has apple taste and fish stuff in it. or about how we keep seeing the recurrent use of old black stereotypes as logos. or about really bad movies that we get to watch on our various cable channels and reviews of them.

perhaps i'll become so enamored with this format that i'll even insert pictures in these posts. but in the meantime, i just want to thank my sponsors for this, the lovely Andrew Schensted who is allowing me to be an honorary Schensted and piggy-back on his grand schemes.

word.