Changes in the American Dream

Gasoline prices reached a national average of $4 a gallon for the first time over the weekend according to a story in The New York Times. That's a lot for America but actually pretty cheap for standards in Spain and the rest of Europe. The problem is that a lot of the American lifestyle over the past half-century or more has been predicated on the idea of cheap gas. Americans have been foolishly buying enormous vehicles for the past decade without ever considering what would happen if the price of gas were to suddenly double, and it has suddenly doubled—and then some. Unwise choices have also been made in the area of housing.

Since the end of WWII Americans have been abandoning the cities to live in single family homes in the suburbs. Many people commute very large distances every day to reach their jobs so that they can enjoy the American dream of a single family home with a huge yard. With gas at $4 a gallon this whole house of cards is beginning to crash. People are finding it difficult to fill the tans of their gas-guzzlers, commuting is eating away at paychecks, and even mowing the lawn with a gas mower is beginning to sting pocket books.

I think that higher gas prices are the best thing that could happen to America. There's no other way to convince people to make sane decisions about where they live and what they drive. Higher fuel prices will force people to live closer to where they work and shop, it may even convince them to use a bicycle for transportation. What a hippie idea that is! Unfortunately, we should have allowed ourselves the luxury to gradually tax gas prices until they had reached current levels. We could have used the windfall from fuel taxes to build public transport and to create the necessary infrastructure for a more dense population environment. Right now we are just pissing all of our money away to the oil companies and OPEC. I suppose this is part of the Bush strategy of defeating our enemies by making them sinfully wealthy. Think about how rich Iran is becoming every time you fill up.

For a good part of my adult life I have chosen to live a fairly urban life, or one in which a bicycle is a logical mode of transportation. I don't own a car here in Spain and don't plan on it any time soon. My bike, the metro, and trains are all I need to get from A to B—not to mention walking. When I lived in Seattle I had a car but used it mainly for recreation. I would have preferred to take a train to visit the mountains near Seattle but train service is rather spotty there. Then and now I am not too concerned with high fuel prices. If you are commuting 20-30 miles a day I would imagine that you fuel bills are eating you alive. As with the mortgage crisis, I'm sure that conservatives in America are now blaming poor people for the poor decisions they have made in what they drive and where they live. I would say that they were just following orders.

Allowing Americans to come to informed decisions on matters effecting their well-being is not really part of the play book in the era of advertising. If this were true people would never buy anything they don't want or don't need. Where would America be if that were true? The entire retail house of cards would come tumbling down if everyone made wise purchasing decisions. Hell, folks might even start saving money if they'd stop buying crappy exercise equipment that they never use.

Had our government done something to encourage to people to buy sensible vehicles and to live in environmentally responsible cities we could have avoided the blackmailing being done by Exxon and OPEC. We can thank the conservatives for allowing this problem to be completely ignored in America. Ronald Reagan axed all of Jimmy Carter's plans to develop alternate energy forms. You can look it up. If we had continued along this path since 1979 we would probably be in a lot better position to deal with higher oil prices, instead we are bleeding from every orifice. Over the years conservatives have done a great job of making profane words like conservation and environmentalism. They laugh at global warming, one of the biggest threats to the human race. They deny the findings of a consensus of the world's scientists on this matter. Conservatives have fought against mass transit initiatives everywhere they pop up. Consequently, most American cities have pretty poor mass transit, if any at all. The chickens are coming home to roost as we hand over out national wealth for OPEC.

Fuel prices are causing problems here in Spain but they paid a lot for gas for a long time. Their lifestyle is already pretty stingy when it comes to energy consumption. I don't know anyone who actually owns a clothes dryer or an SUV. Most people here drive cars that make the new Mini Coopers look like stretch limos, walk everywhere, hang dry clothes, recycle everything, and basically live a pretty green lifestyle dictated by economic factors. Americans are going to be forced to swallow a pill all at once that Europeans have been chewing slowly for decades. I would say “better late than never” but there never was gong to be a “never” in this scenario. We all should have known this day was coming. It's fucking here, folks, and it's not leaving. Gas prices will never return to $1.50 a gallon. Get used to it. Trade in your V8 SUV for a compact...or a bike.

We need to invent a new and improved American dream. Instead of the house in the suburbs with a picket fence we'll trade it for a city apartment within walking distance of restaurants and museums. Instead a huge car we'll start taking the bus. I've been living this way for a long time and I can tell you that it's a great way to live.

Eurocopa 2008

Euro Copa 2008 is underway which means a whole lot of football for the next three weeks until the final on June 29. It's an orgy of games, especially during the first round of the group selections when there are TWO games PER DAY! Sorry, was I shouting? OK, I have to calm down a bit or I'll never make it to the finals. A couple of deep breaths and I'll be completely composed. But then I start thinking about Spain's chances this year and their first game against Russia. Do you really think Spain can go all the way this year? Why not? Why the fuck not? Ooohhh, sharp stabbing pain in chest ... must ... eat... less... pork. Not to worry, I just needed to let out a big burp; too much junk food during last night's two games.

I would say that the mood here in Spain is one of very guarded optimism, and when I mean “guarded” I mean that the Spanish have put their optimism in a fortress with 50 meter walls and a moat around it and they are willing to throw their optimism—kicking and screaming—from the highest towers of that fortress at the first sign of defeat. I saw a video on youtube encouraging Brits to support Spain in the Eurocopa as their selection didn't qualify. I have also heard a song here to the tune of the Spanish national anthem that begins with words of hope for the Spanish team and then ends with Spain being defeated in the early rounds. The Spanish are then prodded to support teams that will still be in it.

It's going to be pretty frantic around here for the next few weeks so if you don't here from me just call 9-11 and send over an ambulance for me. Thanks. Until I do drop dead I'll be dividing my time between my apartment, where I can watch one of the daily matches, and the bars that have pay cable TV for the other game. It will be grueling—mostly for my intestinal track and my liver but this is when all of that training will really pay off for me.

Long Range Planning and Dead Ends

Long Range Planning and Dead Ends

I like to think that I take the long view of life, I see the big picture. I try not to let the splendor of the moment interfere with my obsession with eternal nothingness and death—whichever of those comes first. I think that enjoying the present gets in the way of my far-sighted goal of building a pyramid to honor my legacy when I am gone. I'm making it out of plastic water bottles so it won't erode like those low-rent pyramids made of stone.

I was worrisome even as a first grader. I remember my first trip to the school nurse after I cut my knee sliding after a ball on the asphalt playground. Most kids may have been concerned that the injury I received may have needed stitches. I asked the nurse to answer a simple question for me and not sugar-coat it: Even with this rather unsightly gash on my knee, would I still be able to have an open casket at my funeral, whenever that might be? If my injury would require that I be cremated, I don't know how I would be able to break this disappointing news to my parents. They just wanted the best for me and now another dream of theirs was shattered.

I just read a science article about how the universe is going to end. How am I supposed to act out this charade of a life even when we know that so little time is left? Scientists say we only have something like 15-20 billions years. I'm a realist so this probably means 15 billion years, tops. The Pollyanna's predicting 20 billion years just seem like hippie dreamers to me. I may as well max out a couple more credit cards; I won't be around to worry about paying them off thanks to this whole reverse big bang thing. I'll get a couple of pay movie channels while I'm at it. Fuck it, what's the difference?.

I was supposed to get a haircut today but why bother? I'll bet that even those plucky band members on the Titanic didn't bother getting a haircut after the shit hit the fan. Between sets the musicians probably took advantage of the Titanic's little-known post-iceberg-collision, open bar policy (as sad and depressing as it is to consider the fate of those valiant performers, I take comfort in the fact that since this was in 1912, at least they didn't have to play Hotel California). If there was any sort of decency in the world we'd have an open bar here on earth while we're sitting around waiting for the universe to come crashing in on us like a galactic tsunami. Instead, I'll cash in my retirement and just settle for happy hour somewhere. I hope there's a game on while I'm waiting.

I hate it that you have to buy 10-15 minute blocks of time at most parking meters. 10-15 minutes? Don't they know about the collapsing universe? Why can't you buy parking in increments of 10-15 seconds? What kind of person can plan ahead 15 minutes in these times of uncertainty and rapid change? I would feel like such a fucking idiot if I put 15 minutes worth of change in the meter and then an asteroid crashed into me at Starbucks. If I come back to my car and there is time left I will sit and listen to the radio until the meter expires. If I paid for it I'm going to use it.

For lack of a better metaphor let's just say that when the meter runs out for us in the universe you can be sure that tickets will be issued, there will be a fines to pay—at least if you believe in religion. I suppose that being an atheist is the moral equivalent of not paying for parking and gambling that there isn't a meter maid on duty.

Pervo Returns

He's Back!

Yes, after months of dormancy the public masturbator was present yesterday on the Carril Bici at Pinedo Beach. I wrote about this creep some months back. He likes to stand just off the bike path and wank off to unsuspecting cyclists. Most people just ignore him and keep riding but I like to think of myself as a bit more civic-minded than most folks. I also believe it is the duty of the strong to stand up to bullies. I don't think anyone really cares to see a middle-age man masturbating in public but most folks don't want to get involved or they feel threatened by this highly aggressive act.

The first time I caught him doing his show I threw some rather large rocks at him and threatened to kick his ass if he returned. He came back just a few days later. He either didn't believe me or he weighed in favor of getting his rocks off in public yet another time. The next time I had my camera and I threated to take his picture. This got rid of him for a long time...until yesterday.

There he was standing at the abandoned factory that the trail skirts on this section of the beach. He was going at it and apparently didn't recognize me. I immediately stopped, took out my camera, and starting shooting. I caught him just as he was turning around and running for his fucking life. “¡Corre, puto, corre!” I hollered after him (run, you little bitch). Someone has to take out the trash.

The thing is, there are plenty of places at the beach that offer privacy—at least from the general public's view. I'm sure there are spots at the beach where this sort of behavior is not only acceptable but welcomed, but not right on my bike trail. Sorry, pervo.

“Hey pervo, I hope your miserable parents see this photo.”

Músicos Callejeros

Músicos Callejeros (street musicians)

I have wanted to be a street musician in Europe since my first trip here as a college sophomore on a summer school program in Dijon, France. Another kid in the program played guitar and sang. He would sit in the courtyard of the Pompidou Center in Paris and play. He was a very good blues musician and he did pretty well, well enough to pay for his bar-hopping later in the evening. Another friend of mine in Seattle plays classical guitar and he will sometimes play in the street just for kicks. Once again, he's pretty damn good and he did pretty well on his street gigs. I think this is just about the coolest thing in the world and about the remotest thing in the world for me. I can't sing very well and I don't have the best of relations with my chosen musical instrument.

I remember several years ago I had just arrived in Paris from Amsterdam. I got on the metro from the Gare du Nord and a couple of gypsies entered the car and started playing violin and accordion. It was so utterly Parisian that I almost cried. Instead I butched-up and gave them a few coins. I think that I must be one of the few people in the world who actually loves accordion music.

Here in Valencia we have our fair share of street musicians. The kid in the photograph plays a great renaissance recorder. There are lots of gypsy-types playing accordion. I have found that most of the older accordionists you encounter in the street don't speak Spanish. If you want to know the name of a song they are playing you have a better chance of just pulling the name out of thin air than actually communicating with the musician.

I almost always give money to street musicians and sometimes I will even sit and listen to them if they are good. I was in a café listening to an old gypsy play when he played an old tango that I recognized but the name escaped me. I asked him and met with a formidable language barrier that I couldn't cross with any of the dialects I can manage. Luckily, one of the other café patrons recognized the name of the song as La Cumparsita made famous by Carlos Gardel. The old gypsy couldn't tell me the name of the song but he played it for me again. I haven't seen him around lately so I imagine he does what it is gypsies do best, he has moved on.

I saw a program on television the other night about a group of young street performers who live in an abandoned medieval village. Some of them perform acrobatics but most of the vagabonds are musicians who travel all around Europe throughout the year when they aren't squatting in the abandoned village. It looked like a terribly romantic life and something I'd probably like to try right up until I need a good, hot shower (or internet access). I also lack the required skills to make a living on the street.

You don't see many street pianists. I could probably push my piano into the hall and take it down to the street on the elevator. It would be a pain in the ass but I could actually do it. I certainly have heard worse music being played in the street than you'll hear coming from my instrument. I think what I'd really like to do is try my hand at the accordion. I'm not kidding. How hard could it be to play an accordion? The hardest part is convincing your friends your not some sort of spaz.