tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-184014132024-03-19T04:49:59.863+01:00agaetis blogjunMarkhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.comBlogger149125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-1842226727631705652011-09-24T02:47:00.001+02:002011-09-24T02:47:39.178+02:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-61247830368136709972009-03-28T22:15:00.002+01:002009-03-28T22:17:50.993+01:00Estoy buscando la comida mexicanaAnother in an occasional series on adapting to life in Vermont:<br /><br />Back when Howard Dean was running for president, I remember people voicing their concerns that he didn't have the background to govern a country as diverse as the US. I read one news report at the time that said that the population of Vermont was 96% white. I thought, "No, that can't be true!" Well, it's not. It's closer to 98%.<br /><br />It's been a bit of a shock moving from Oakland to one of the whitest states in the nation. And I'm not sure what this says about me, but I think the thing I miss the most about moving to a less culturally diverse place is the food.<br /><br />Needless to say, there isn't much Mexican food to be had around here. Because I grew up in Nevada and lived for so long in California, I kind of took for granted that there would be a Mexican place in every town. Even when I lived in Washington, all it took was a drive down South Tacoma Way to find it. But the closest thing within hailing distance that we've found here is a gringo-friendly burrito place in Middlebury. The nearest place we've actually eaten Mexican food is an hour and a half away in Albany, NY.<br /><br />Rumor has it that there are a handful of Mexican workers in the dairy farms in the county north of us. Because so many are undocumented, though, it's not really clear how many there are. Nor is the population particularly settled, so none of the trappings of an immigrant community have followed them: things like ethnic groceries or taco trucks. God I miss taco trucks.<br /><br />We do a reasonable job of making Mexican food at home, and we probably make it once a week or so. But there's nothing quite like a taco al pastor from the taco wagon, dripping with pastor juices and juice from those cute little limes that you can only seem to find at the taco truck. My cravings have gotten so desperate that I even went to Taco Bell in Rutland a few weeks ago. What's worse? I kind of enjoyed it.<br /><br />So that's the state of things here in Vermont. There are certainly a lot of food-related benefits to living here, like knowing the farmer who grew your vegetables and being able to afford enough space to grow them yourself. I guess it's just up to Anne and I to turn those vegetables into Mexican food on our own.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-26084639970530675302009-03-15T23:25:00.002+01:002009-03-15T23:29:26.187+01:00Four SeasonsWhen I lived in California, one thing that always drove me crazy was people grumbling about how California didn't have any seasons. When I found out that we were moving to Vermont, people would often say was that they were happy for us because we were moving somewhere that had "real" seasons. As an ecologist, I would argue that a region's climate is its climate, and you shouldn't try to shoehorn the weather into some preconceived notion about how the seasons should change. And by that reasoning, coastal California does have seasons, if only two of them: rainy and dry.<br /><br />But now we live in a place with four, legitimate seasons. We moved to Vermont in the summer, which is pretty miserable. It's hot and muggy (though not as hot and muggy as places further south of us). The fall, by contrast, is great. The weather is cooler and drier, and the leaves are as dramatical as everyone says they are. Winter is great, too (if a bit long), especially because we can walk to work and don't have to drive in the snow too often. Spring on the other hand, is the biggest let-down because the part we routinely associate with spring (trees leafing out, flowers blooming, etc.) lasts about two weeks.<br /><br />Of course, Vermonters aren't satisfied with having only four seasons. Oh no, that would be too simple. Summer is just summer, like everywhere else. The fall, on the other hand, gets subdivided into two distinct parts: leaf season (when the leaves are colorful) and stick season (when the leaves are gone but the snow hasn't hit). Oddly, winter, even though it lasts about six months, is just winter.<br /><br />Which brings us to our current season. The late winter/early spring also has its own name: mud season. This comes at the point in the year when you're most antsy to get outside because it's starting to warm up (it was in the 50s today). But there's absolutely nowhere to go that isn't covered in knee-deep muck, or a hybrid of unmelted snow and knee-deep muck. Snowshoe and ski season has ended, but hiking is out of the question. So we Vermonters just grit our collective teeth and grumble about the fact that summer is just around the corner but that the corner seems to be constantly just out of reach, like something you can only see with your peripheral vision. In a month or so, the leaves will be back on the trees, and we'll be surrounded by a green of seizure-inducing intensity. In the interim, I'll try to appreciate this mirror-image of stick season and enjoy the fact that my down coat has (hopefully) been retired for another year.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-40818784828876320482009-03-07T22:30:00.001+01:002009-03-07T22:33:00.164+01:00Yo! Spring Beak!We Green Mountain Eagles have next week off for spring break, and every year around this time "Yo! Spring Break!" by Justin Time flashes into my head. What? You say you don't remember it? To be honest, I don't know why I do, because I only remember seeing it once or twice on Yo! MTV Raps at Roger's house. But I decided this year I would see if I could track it down, and thank you internets, I found the video on YouTube. I don't think you can say 1990 more convincingly without Dwayne Wayne's flip-shades.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kTxagpT8T6Y&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kTxagpT8T6Y&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />Extra special kudos to anyone who can identify the hook that's sampled under the chorus. It's some classic rock staple like Foghat or BTO, but I can't quite place it.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-38370914490485161552009-02-15T23:30:00.000+01:002009-02-15T23:31:08.915+01:00Happy (belated) Darwin Day!I hope you all had a nice Darwin Day on last Thursday (2/12) celebrating the bicentennial of Darwin's birth. (And Abraham Lincoln's, too. What an odd coincidence.) I made cupcakes for my history of science class and we watched part of a NOVA video on Evolution that includes some entertaining re-enactments of Darwin's life, including Darwin wooing his cousin (ew!) Emma Wedgwood. Hopefully they'll remember the cupcakes when I make them read <i>On the Origin of Species</i> later in the semester.<br /><br />Anne and I also went to a Darwin party that night at our friends Erin and Lindsey's house, where we feasted on finch wings (ok, they were chicken) and a tortoise-shaped cake and drank Captain Fitzroy's rum and Cokes. They probably didn't have Coke on the Beagle, but no need to deprive ourselves. We had a couple rounds of Darwin trivia and even played a rousing game of Pin the Beak on the Finch. I did ok with the trivia, but not so well with the beak game. Maybe next year....Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-3596795509302109862009-02-08T22:48:00.001+01:002009-02-08T22:49:56.496+01:00The Rest is NoiseI've been meaning to pimp a book that I read over the break, and I've finally gotten around to writing about it. It's a history of 20th century classical music called <i>The Rest is Noise</i>, and it's by Alex Ross, a music writer for the New Yorker. I've always been interested in "modern" classical music, but I didn't know much beyond Shoenberg's twelve tones and John Cage giving concertos of radios tuned to different stations. I read a flattering review of the book on Salon, so I figured I'd read it and learn a little bit more. One of the things I particularly liked about the book was Ross' ability not to just write about the way the music developed throughout the century, but to tie these developments to the social and cultural changes that accompanied them. For example, he has three sequential chapters in the center of the book that describe the way that the twin forces of government funding and censorship impacted the composition and performance of classical music in Stalin's Russia, Nazi Germany, and the US during the New Deal.<br /><br />All of this would have added up to an interesting and informative book, but what really put it over the edge and made it blog-worthy was the <a href="http://www.therestisnoise.com/audio/">companion website</a>. Each chapter gets its own page with linked video and audio. So while reading about the dissonant sequence during the Rite of Spring that sent Parisian audiences into a frenzy, you can go to the website and listen to a clip of the same section. I thought this was a great example of using multimedia to expand on the printed page, and it really enhanced my reading of the book. I was even inspired to go out and buy a couple CD's of music that I'd read about in the book, and I doubt I would have done that if I hadn't had the music clips to round out my experience.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-26601538105037184902009-01-29T02:50:00.007+01:002009-01-29T03:02:53.707+01:00Happy Birthday Mac!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMacGWL4atAdJ2T4oyRqMEwLHPLunG7YRCGFn5dNCXx5Y8FOWOyLJ4EigUPci1IoUgI54E8WsSv8GcLIrgGCeqhpVOSDW51Qw0eEzzsDhtqwF4lBIiU53b-XJv1sR1kIZcttlG/s1600-h/138398-happymac_original.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 165px; height: 210px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMacGWL4atAdJ2T4oyRqMEwLHPLunG7YRCGFn5dNCXx5Y8FOWOyLJ4EigUPci1IoUgI54E8WsSv8GcLIrgGCeqhpVOSDW51Qw0eEzzsDhtqwF4lBIiU53b-XJv1sR1kIZcttlG/s320/138398-happymac_original.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296529867533459026" /></a>Last Saturday marked the 25th anniversary of the first Mac, ushered in by <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OYecfV3ubP8">that famous Super Bowl commercial</a>. I've only been a Mac user for the past year and a half (or a mere 6% of the lifetime of the Mac). But at risk of sounding like a total fanboy, I haven't enjoyed owning a computer this much since my Commodore 64. If you want to wallow in fandom like me, MacWorld has some bite-sized features covering the history of the Mac over at <a href="http://www.macworld.com/article/138340/mac25anniversary.html?lsrc=mwweek">its website</a>. Anyone else remember <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shufflepuck_Cafe">Shufflepuck Cafe</a>?Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-2035541611402752832009-01-22T04:55:00.005+01:002009-01-22T05:07:13.881+01:00Dr. Evil and Aretha's hatAm I a horrible person for being unable to resist the impulse to blog about Cheney leaving the inauguration in a wheelchair? There's just something too poetic about the image of him being wheeled away, clutching his cane, while the vigorous, youthful Obama's stood on the Capitol steps to see the Bushes off in their helicopter. I can't say I buy the story about hurting his back while moving boxes, either. Maybe moving boxes of documents to the shredder, but I doubt he was actually hauling around his dishes. Perhaps a more plausible scenario is that the demon that was possessing him for the last eight years has fled back to it's hell dimension, leaving his body weakened and bent. OK, that was definitely out of line....<br /><br />But what else can I say about yesterday's historic inauguration that hasn't already been said? That hasn't already been said by the New York Times alone, which included a separate section in its print edition today titled "President Obama." I wonder if this will become a permanent part of the paper. "Hon, I'll trade you the Business section for the President Obama section if you're done with it." Still, reading those two words together without an intruding "-elect" in the middle brought a big smile to my face.<br /><br />My other major highlight of the inauguration (other than the obvious) would have to be Aretha Franklin's hat. The Queen of Soul got style.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-18546952826897177182009-01-20T01:06:00.004+01:002009-01-20T01:14:59.445+01:00Yet another piece of advice for the incoming presidentThere has been a seemingly endless parade of advice for Barack Obama in the lead-up to his assumption of the presidency. The most recent bit I read was a detailed economic plan from Paul Krugman in <i>Rolling Stone</i> of all places. I heard the funniest (and probably grossest) bit of advice <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=99552957">this afternoon on Day to Day</a>. I particularly liked the bit about Johnny Depp, although I never knew he'd slept in the White House. On a related note, I'm going to savor the next half day while Obama's still Obama the idea and not yet Obama the actual president-who-has-to-do-stuff-that-I-won't-agree-with.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-79439296974952577192009-01-14T23:45:00.002+01:002009-01-14T23:48:42.059+01:00Crank fiends stole my medicineAs an allergy sufferer, I've been a long-time fan of Sudafed. It's one of the few things that actually helps alleviate my symptoms without incapacitating me. Now as you probably know, the main ingredient in Sudafed and its generic analogues is pseudoephedrine, which can be used as a precursor in the synthesis of methamphetamine. Because of this, pseudoephedrine-containing drugs have been slowly getting harder and harder to obtain. Nowadays (at least here in Vermont) you can only buy them from a pharmacist (although you don't need a prescription).<br /><br />I came down with a cold this week, and since it was mostly hovering around my head, I decided I would try to combat it in part with Sudafed. We'd run out, so Anne graciously went to the store the other night to stock up on medicine. Unfortunately, our local supermarket doesn't have a pharmacy, and our local pharmacy keep bankers hours. The best she could find was something called Sudafed PE, which had some non-meth producing antihistamine. It didn't do a damn thing.<br /><br />Because getting lots of sleep is really the best way to fight a cold, NyQuil is another drug in my cold-fighting arsenal, and luckily Anne had also picked up a fresh bottle of it. I've been hitting the Quil every night this week, and I'm already feeling better. Typically when I have a cold, it only lasts a few days. As long as some redneck chemist doesn't figure out how to convert NyQuil into a controlled substance in the bathtub of his trailer, I'm hoping it stays that way.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-29478636378572926232009-01-06T22:50:00.003+01:002009-01-06T22:53:48.200+01:00There's always next year...I'm still coming to terms with the Vikings ignominious loss on Sunday. (I feel I use the words "ignominious" and Vikings in the same sentence far too often.) I won't bore you with my armchair general managing except to say that I was disappointed but not surprised by the outcome. Now that the NFL season is functionally over as far as I'm concerned, I guess I can turn my attention to the Premier League. I was happy to see today that my team, Fulham, has managed to stumble its way to the top half of the table. Skol Cottagers!Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-50261202460487360402009-01-04T16:29:00.003+01:002009-01-04T16:35:19.826+01:00Local TV blackoutMy Minnesota Vikings have one of their biggest games in a while this afternoon, with their first trip to the playoffs in four years. Unfortunately, the NFL blackout rules apply in our home for a very simple reason -- we don't have TV.<br /><br />Anne and I have always persisted stubbornly without cable/satellite TV. This worked out relatively well in Oakland. We could get most of the major networks (although the time that NBC moved its transmitter right before the Olympics was pretty annoying) plus a handful of local channels that showed things like Cantonese news and <a href="http://www.cheaters.com/">Cheaters</a>. We figured this was entertainment enough, so we never plunked down the extra money for cable.<br /><br />Things changed when we moved to Vermont. We could no longer rely on getting a signal with our set-top rabbit ears. I've heard rumors of getting PBS in Poultney, but haven't had any luck myself. Nevertheless, we decided to save the money and go without TV. Now it's not like we're those people who condescendingly say "Well, we don't watch TV" because the truth is we watch a lot of TV. We just have to watch it all on DVD. Like a lot of our neighbors, we are now devoted Netflix subscribers. This works out pretty well because it's about half the price of cable, and we get to choose what we want to watch. Especially now that Watch Instantly is available for the Mac, it's almost like having live TV coming into our house. OK, not quite, but it's getting there.<br /><br />But that still leaves us in the cold when it comes to live sports. I had to "watch" the Vikings finally clinch a playoff spot against the Giants with ESPN's ridiculous Gamecast, and had to put Matt and Cascade through the same to watch their beloved Beavers in the Sun Bowl last week. If you think football is slow and boring, try watching it this way. Unfortunately, the local pub is closed on Sunday and Monday (prime football watching days), so I have seen very little football since I moved here.<br /><br />[A funny thing happened to us shortly after we moved here related to our lack of TV. I got a call from AC Nielsen asking us to track our TV watching. I told the woman that we didn't have TV reception, so our data wouldn't be too useful. She seemed a bit bemused, but said to go ahead and complete the survey anyway. Now I've always wanted to be a Nielsen family and help influence which shows stay on the air and which get cancelled. I'm convinced that if I'd been tracking my TV viewing a couple years ago, Arrested Development would still be on the air. (Not that it would do me any good without television.) My stepdad suggested I fill out the form in the spirit of OJ Simpson: this is what I would have watched had I watched TV. Instead, I just left all of the time slots blank and sent it back. Anne and I were paid $20 for our trouble, which seemed like a pretty fair compensation.]<br /><br />There's a big TV antenna on top of our barn, and if I ever get the motivation, I might actually try to see if I can get it to work. We went ahead and got one of the government-subsidized digital converters for our analog TV, so we're poised to have television in our home again. In the meantime, Anne and I will make the trip up to Rutland and the nearest sports bar to watch this afternoon's game. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eiy1dceBs8s">Skol, Vikings!</a>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-51726649006930955122008-12-28T22:21:00.000+01:002008-12-28T22:22:24.373+01:00Embracing the holiday downtimeSo with the semester over and the holiday season upon us, I decided to revisit the ol' blog. It looks like my last post consisted of my indelicately comparing Sarah Palin to Fluff. Oh, what naive days those were.<br /><br />I seem to have a binge and purge pattern with this blog. I'll write a fair amount when school isn't in session, then gradually taper off and disappear for half or more of the semester. I thought this fall would be different. But it wasn't. So I hereby decree (because a statement like this needs the weight of a decree) that if I fall off the blogging wagon again this spring, I will shut down this blog for good. There's no point in my taking up space in your RSS feed reader with my silent blog, for those of you still reading.<br /><br />To avoid the fate of losing my one creative outlet (yes, I also need some more hobbies), I plan on banking some posts during the break. All of you suckers in the real world will surely be jealous to hear that we don't start classes until Jan. 20. Not that I will be able to get away without working at all until the 20th, but I should have a bit more time to write a few posts in advance, especially in the long-promised series on how Anne and I are adapting to life in Vermont.<br /><br />Hopefully this won't be the last post you read until June!Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-74806585193429802422008-09-04T04:52:00.007+02:002008-09-04T15:16:50.208+02:00Thoroughly vettedI hate to give the appearance that I'm obsessed with Sarah Palin, but I just listened to her speech at the Republican convention. It was the auditory equivalent of eating a jar of Strawberry Fluff. At least she calls snowmobiles "snow machines".<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPjnN1zyk4KFue8mnLmTaKEFDss0GMIR9phu198Izp4Lj_i6jkUpS4Wu-stMMdjrt-DEbi95Z1yf8wmjMP3cLd2yDf1A6DzNGRUA3g77cMg6_AXrDLzaHm7rxQC-UGJVniWIT/s1600-h/fluff.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0 auto 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtPjnN1zyk4KFue8mnLmTaKEFDss0GMIR9phu198Izp4Lj_i6jkUpS4Wu-stMMdjrt-DEbi95Z1yf8wmjMP3cLd2yDf1A6DzNGRUA3g77cMg6_AXrDLzaHm7rxQC-UGJVniWIT/s320/fluff.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5241994578141688274" /></a><br /><br />[Update Thursday AM]<br />I wrote the above when she was halfway through her speech and was waxing poetic about her family. (For someone who would prefer the "East coast media elites" not talk about her family, she sure talks a lot about her family.) After posting, I closed the computer and started getting ready for bed. At this point, the speech turned *mean*. Overall, I was (perhaps predictably) disappointed and frustrated with the slate of speakers last night, but I'll save that for another post.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-26795631283178135672008-09-04T04:50:00.000+02:002008-09-04T04:51:03.160+02:00The Olympic HandoffI started writing this post over a week ago, then ran out of steam. I hate to see all that "hard" work go to waste, though, especially because Iceland is featured prominently. The political conventions have been distracting, and I just can't keep up with the 24 hour news cycle. So here, for your reading enjoyment, is an edited, week+ late, postmortem on the summer Olympics:<br /><br />Although I'm more of a winter Olympics guy (maybe it's my affinity for the Nordic countries), I was a pretty rapt follower of the Olympics the last couple weeks. Here are a few brief thoughts on the First Communist Olympiad.<br /><br />First off, the Chinese proved to be highly entertaining hosts. It's tough to pick a favorite moment, but the top two would have to be the (allegedly) underage gymnasts and the opening ceremonies singer that was <a href="http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/sport/olympics/article4512250.ece">too homely for primetime</a>.<br /><br />Of course, I don't watch the Olympics to see the host nation embarrass itself. I watch to see all of the weird-ass sports no one in America plays. And the prize this year has to go to Team Handball. I had no idea before I watched it online that team handball was even played the way it's played. I assumed it was somehow a variation on the sport the middle aged men play in the racquetball courts at the UC Berkeley fitness center every morning. But it's not like that at all. Instead, it's like a hybrid between basketball (albeit with rules against traveling that are even more lax than those imposed on stars in the NBA) and indoor soccer. The best part for me was Iceland's captivating run to the final game in the men's tournament. Sadly, they came up short in the gold medal game against France, but it was still pretty cool that the tiny island nation mustered a silver medal in a sport that is (allegedly) widely popular in the rest of Europe (if not much of anywhere else).<br /><br />Looking ahead four years, if the Olympic hand-off sponsored by London is any indication, I'm not optimistic for the upcoming games. For those of you who didn't see it, a key moment featured Jimmy Page playing guitar on top of an open-topped bus sided with neon umbrellas. David Beckham joined him to kick a soccer ball into the audience, apparently symbolizing ... something. I heard this portion of the ceremony <a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=93890833">previewed on the radio</a> a few days prior, and the commentator described how it would be "impossible for it not to be absolute rubbish." As luck would have it, I caught this spectacle on TV (in the grocery store of all places), and it lived up to the billing -- it was absolute rubbish. Becks feebly kicked the ball into the first row of spectators, alarming an unsuspecting gaggle of Japanese visitors. Jimmy Page looked on, a bit bewildered by all of the flashing lights.<br /><br />Luckily, the sporting events themselves always seem to transcend the setting of the Olympics. Here's to hoping the next summer games will be as entertaining as this year's and not absolute rubbish.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-5587168595442924102008-08-31T17:14:00.002+02:002008-08-31T17:19:37.858+02:00Piper at the Gates of DawnJust as the afterglow of Obama's convention speech was fading, I greeted the McCain camp's announcement of Sarah Palin as their VP pick with a bit of bemusement. I felt a little badly for the Republicans, having to elbow their way into the media spotlight between the Democratic convention and their own, with the Olympics still a recent memory. I have to say that, while I was desperately hoping for Mitt Romney because he's always good for a laugh, I was kind of surprised by their pick.<br /><br />The Republicans continuously harp on Obama for his perceived lack of experience. And yet they've chosen a vice president whose political experience is briefer than Obama's. I heard someone on the radio this morning attempting to defend her lack of experience in politics by saying that she's always "been interested in current events." I guess that means reading the newspaper qualifies you for the job that's a hearbeat away from the presidency.<br /><br />That said, I think experience is a bit overrated. What's more important to me is leadership ability and judgment. I can't say much for governor Palin's leadership ability, although I do have to respect her for taking on the old guard of Alaska Republicans. But I really have to question her judgment after seeing the bewildering names of her children (Track, Bristol, Willow, Piper, and Trig). Now, I've got nothing against Willow, as she was one of my favorite characters on Buffy (at least until the sixth season, although I don't think the last two seasons should really count. But I digress....) I find it particularly interesting that two of her children are in fact named after TV witches. Perhaps someone should start a chain email claiming that she's a pagan. I'm not sure if that's better or worse in the American public consciousness than being labeled a Muslim.<br /><br />One final note: I think the Republicans are making a bit of a mistake if they've picked a younger VP to try to deflect some of the reservations people have about McCain's age. Choosing someone who governs a state that's <a href="http://www.thingsyoungerthanmccain.com/?s=alaska">younger than John McCain</a> may just backfire.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-49176316695535425552008-08-22T23:24:00.004+02:002008-08-22T23:29:28.071+02:00This is not a blog about remodelingI promised before that this space wouldn't be taken over by remodeling pictures and stories (a remodelogue, if you will), but I couldn't resist this picture. My parents were here last week to visit and labor on the house. While Jack and I rebuilt our dilapidated porch, my mom and Anne repainted the kitchen. When we moved in, it was decorated with pink wainscoting below and (dark) blue and white striped wallpaper with a floral print above. Needless to say, it had to go.<br /><br />With the wallpaper removed, Anne and my mom set to repainting. In the middle of the transition from pink to green, I couldn't help but notice the two colors together were reminiscent of the cover of one of the greatest albums of all time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPiv1BnS-Wh7biXnb7ZCdvqjfBiej67cMVQBlFOeOIVIlHAhfu2VfOq7ONZj6FH3pKHMQNgkbxn_kUYHhZ5XzIhO9aHVjwWlTNSa-Ty8gEcS3gnMa04jvTCbaNtmjWiZ5lRgCH/s1600-h/Window.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0 auto 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPiv1BnS-Wh7biXnb7ZCdvqjfBiej67cMVQBlFOeOIVIlHAhfu2VfOq7ONZj6FH3pKHMQNgkbxn_kUYHhZ5XzIhO9aHVjwWlTNSa-Ty8gEcS3gnMa04jvTCbaNtmjWiZ5lRgCH/s320/Window.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237456556233548642" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKnfY1VHevPkz3ajWjT7ZcT4wYr0y7FRVOMzQoRKYIo2pimaaBKH1ugsAr5eEmYz2Q8tUQoetUmLvFbSv8Ige_-mCRAGvdU0hoyHx71BgMBDxgwR1mSxepMvpIN8_injwCuu2/s1600-h/LondonCalling.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0 auto 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlKnfY1VHevPkz3ajWjT7ZcT4wYr0y7FRVOMzQoRKYIo2pimaaBKH1ugsAr5eEmYz2Q8tUQoetUmLvFbSv8Ige_-mCRAGvdU0hoyHx71BgMBDxgwR1mSxepMvpIN8_injwCuu2/s320/LondonCalling.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237456564095365522" /></a><br />This fortuitous bit of rock and roll color concurrence was pretty cool, although as much as I love the Clash, the pink still had to go, and we now have a much more bearable, two-tone kitchen painted in green and white.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-14390625430343430382008-07-20T18:44:00.003+02:002008-07-20T18:48:17.515+02:00Back home againJust a quick note to say I'm back to hot, humid Vermont. I had a three-day layover in Iceland on the way home, and it was incredible. I've always wanted to go to Iceland, so it was a lot of fun to finally see it. In the next week or so, I'll be writing a post or two about the final days of my trip to Sweden, as well as my time in Iceland, but for now, I have some home improvement projects to tend to! For your viewing pleasure, I've added a few pictures from Iceland to my Sweden photo set on Flickr (now renamed <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/sets/72157605767846840/">Sweden & Iceland</a>).Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-70898231079995379492008-07-11T15:06:00.002+02:002008-07-11T15:11:22.751+02:00imeemI've been meaning for a while to pimp <a href ="http://www.imeem.com/">imeem</a>, an online music service I've been listening to for a couple months. To describe it, the best analogy I can think of is that it's a hybrid of iTunes and MySpace. Users upload mp3's of songs, and then anyone can stream them or even buy them. If you're a registered member, you can also create your own playlists. In addition to this, there's a whole social networking side to the site. I'm not really into networking online, so to be honest, I haven't really played with the features. My guess is that it's similar to MySpace. However that works.<br /><br />I should also add that part of my affection for this site stems from the fact that one of the first songs I looked for and found was "Vindaloo" by Fat Les, which I haven't been able to find on any of the major services. I like it because <a href="http://mpennanti.blogspot.com/2006/06/soccer-anthems.html">it's one of my favorite soccer songs</a>, and it brings back fond memories of Anne and my time in England during the 2002 World Cup. That said, I logged in recently, and I could only listen to a 30 second sample of this song (see more below). I'll assume that the reason I can't listen to it in its entirety is because I'm not in North America right now. If I get back to the US, and still can't listen to the song in its entirety, I may have to rethink this review.<br /><br />One interesting feature of this service is that you can basically listen, on demand, to any song that's been uploaded. As far as I understand, this contradicts the traditional model for online music (and both terrestrial and online radio) where the listener can't have the ability to predict what will be played at a specific time. (This is why DJ's will often say something like "Coming up, we have the new one from Santogold" while being deliberately cagey about when s/he'll actually play it.) This is also part of why you can't choose a specific song on Pandora.<br /><br />imeem somehow gets around this by only allowing listeners to stream 30-second samples of some songs. Whether or not a full length version of a song is available depends on an interpretation of copyright law that I don't really understand. (You can, of course, listen to full versions of any songs you personally have uploaded.) However, in my experience (at least my experience before coming to Sweden), most songs seem to be unlocked and you can listen to the whole thing.<br /><br />Aside from the issue of incomplete songs, I need to give one warning to potential users of imeem, the significance of which will probably vary depending on your personal preferences. The warning is that, from a design standpoint, the site is absolute ass. I'm sure you're familiar with how butt-ugly MySpace can be; well imeem seems to follow the same design principles. That is, it has none. There's no standardization in the design, except that all the things you expect to find like the controls, recommended tracks, and comments do tend to be in the same place on every page. But they all float ethereally above a user-selected background that is invariably made up of hundreds of tiny, moving bits. You also have to deal with ads of the "Someone in Poultney has the hots for you!" variety, but you're probably used to ignoring such impositions by now. At least I hope you are. (One funny side note, lately I've been seeing the same low-budget ads, but they're all in Swedish. Någon i Stockholm älskar mig? Jattebra!)<br /><br />The visual experience of any given page will vary from one track to the next, although you can probably guarantee that it will be ugly, visually distracting, and have little or no relation to the music being played. I once listed to a playlist on a page that had a creepy vampire's head at the top. The head was partially concealed by shadows, and it would move about and flash it's teeth in a roughly ten-second cycle. The band featured in this particular playlist: REM. Because nothing makes me think of vampires (or vampyrs, perhaps) like "Radio Free Europe."<br /><br />So with that warning, I encourage you to check it out. I think the main benefit of this site is it's on-demand feature. If you have a song stuck in your head and you need to hear it, this is the place to go. Or if you want to preview an album before going out and buying it, chances are someone has already put together a playlist of the whole thing. I think the site definitely has its merits, especially if you can let it run (hidden) in the background while you're working. Just try not to look at it for too long because it's guaranteed to give you a headache and make your eyes bleed.<br /><br />I mentioned Pandora earlier, which reminds me to pimp an application that my friend JT turned me on to. It's called <a href="http://bitcartel.com/pandorajam/">PandoraJam</a>, and it lets you access Pandora in a separate application instead of using your browser. The coolest feature is that it will automatically save to your hard drive all of the songs it plays. The quality is only ok (64 kbs), but the music is free after all. You have to buy a license to get unlimited downloads, but the unregistered version will work in 10-15 songs stretches at a time. And the best thing about PandoraJam ... ? It only works on a Mac.<br /><br />Sorry, I know <a href="http://mpennanti.blogspot.com/2006/09/making-switch.html">I've promised</a> I wouldn't let this blog go there.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-61797039728681741822008-07-07T10:01:00.002+02:002008-07-07T10:04:37.091+02:00A heavy metal countryContinuing the Sweden travelogue, I think it's safe to say Sweden is a heavy metal country. This is in contrast to the US, which, despite a flirtation with hair metal in the 1980s, is decidedly not. Other heavy metal countries include Brazil (and most of South America for that matter), much of Scandinavia, and probably all of Eastern Europe. What do I mean by heavy metal country? Here are a few things I've seen since arriving here to give you an idea:<br /><br /><li>Posters advertising Iron Maiden's new greatest hits album in the window of mainstream music shops.</li><br /><li>The pub down the street from my apartment offers "heavy metal" karaoke two nights a week.</li><br /><li>Every time I walk by this same pub, they're showing not sports, but an Iron Maiden concert video on their TVs. Except the one time it was Black Sabbath.</li><br /><li>A record store devoted entirely to death metal in a somewhat upscale neighborhood.</li><br /><li>People (note the plural) unironically wearing Mötörhead t-shirts.</li><br /><li>A guy with a mullet wearing a White Lion European tour shirt.</li><br />And a final confirmation that Sweden is a heavy metal country? I went into a hip hop and turntablist-friendly record store in the part of Stockholm where all the hipsters hang out, and the proprietor (who happened to be scratching -- ineptly -- a record while I was there) had long, blond hair cascading down his shoulders and back, and he was wearing a shirt for a metal band (Dimmu Borgir, if I remember correctly). When even the hip hop headz look like roadies for Saxon, you know you're in a heavy metal country.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-44028569102224644582008-07-04T12:22:00.001+02:002008-07-04T12:24:16.033+02:00NPR townsI just listened to the podcast of <a href="http://www.npr.org/programs/waitwait/">Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me!</a> this morning, which broadcast live from Seattle last week. At the opening, the host quipped that, because of its coffee, bookstores, and cultural institutions, Seattle may be the "perfect public radio town." "With," he added, "apologies to Berkeley, California, and certain communes in Vermont." I had to smile because he'd just listed the last three places I've lived. (OK, so I don't live on a commune, but he needed the phrase for the sake of the punch line.) Perhaps it's no surprise, then, that I get all my news from NPR.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-64757400625229697122008-07-03T16:15:00.003+02:002008-07-03T16:23:13.395+02:00More blogs about buildings and foodOne of the most compelling reasons for subletting an apartment while I was here instead of staying in a hotel was so that I could cook for myself. This has saved me a lot of money given how expensive it is to eat dinner in a restaurant here. Nevertheless, self-catering is not without its challenges in a foreign country.<br /><br />Fortunately (at least for my shopping comfort level) Sweden seems to have embraced the US-style supermarket model. This is in contrast to stereotypical European model where everyone goes to two or three different places each day to buy that day's meal. There are a couple cool market halls that fit that mold, and I try to patronize as much as I can. But for the everyday stuff, I go to a small supermarket a block away. Because of the familiarity of the supermarket model, I haven't had many instances of complications arising from cultural or linguistic misunderstandings. On my first shopping trip, I did have a bit of a mix-up when I inadvertently bought sugar that also contained pectin. But other than my tea having kind of an off consistency, that hasn't been too big of a disaster. I swear the picture on the front of the bag depicting the sugar being poured into a saucepan full of jam looks like it's being poured into a cup of coffee, at least when you're looking at the bag in dim light (which is a common feature of all the Swedish supermarkets I've shopped at).<br /><br />Saturday, I did have a somewhat unfortunate experience at an outdoor produce market I like to go to. I got there right at closing time, and the fruitmongers were eager to get rid of their stock. Somehow, my simple request for a handful of green beans turned into a pound or more of beans, a leek, a couple heavy bags of plums, and a couple heavy bags of grapes. I tried to demure on some of the items, and did manage to keep from adding any berries or melons to my haul. Unfortunately, the guy was speaking very quickly in Swedish and seemed in a bit of a rush. My Swedish wasn't really up to the challenge of negotiating, and I got a bit flustered and speechless as I watched him bag up my fruit.<br /><br />Needless to say, the cost was a bit more than I'd anticipated for the half kilo of beans I'd wanted to buy (although a bargain for what I got). When he told me the final cost, I tried feebly to negotiate, but I was stuck in Swedish because the fruitmonger was an immigrant who may or may not have spoken English. That and he was Middle Eastern from a country that probably hasn't benefited from our foreign policy, so my switching to English would probably have backfired anyway. I got him to reduce the price a little bit, but I'm still stuck with about 10 pounds of fruit that's probably going to go bad before I can eat it all. It's now Thursday, and I would say I'm about a third of the way through, though the grapes are holding up remarkably well in my fridge. The plums on the other hand are starting to turn. It's beginning to look like buying the sugar with pectin wasn't such a disaster after all.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-72575950717643098072008-07-01T15:22:00.003+02:002008-07-01T15:32:24.407+02:00Weekend highlightsLast week was actually a relatively productive week work-wise, so when Saturday rolled around, I hopped out of bed ready to leap back into tourist mode. Here are some of the highlights:<br /><br />I went back to the hip, happening Södermalm to do some gift shopping. I'll be cagy about what I actually shopped for because certain gift recipients might be reading this blog. But I can say that I had a fun time browsing through stores, lunching and snacking at cafes, and just taking in the streetlife. It helped that the weather was awesome this weekend. One place I made sure to go was a highly regarded record store, called Pet Sounds (but I won't hold that against it). It was super cool; in many ways it fulfilled my platonic ideal of what an independent record store should be. Oddly, there was very little Swedish-language music. Also, I made a very unfortunate discovery. New CDs here cost up to 200 Swedish kronor, or over $30 US (and rising daily as the dollar continues its steady decline). As cool as it would have been to buy the new Sigur Rós disc in Scandinavia, I think it's going to have to wait until I get home.<br /><br />Sunday was given over to museum-going. I first checked out the history museum. And anyone who knows me well could probably guess where I headed first: the Viking room! In many ways, it was a typical "stuff in glass cases" museum, so I wasn't really blown away. But two things stood out. First, the staging of the exhibits was very artfully done. The lighting in the Viking exhibit in particular was quite artistic, for lack of a better word. Second, it was one of the most postmodern museums I've been to. (Which begs the question, can you use "postmodern" in a relative sense?) There was a hall in the back of the museum that was all about how history is constructed. It was set up to mimic an airplane terminal (an interesting choice), with each "gate" leading to a different room that posed a series of questions about historiography, like one room that asked "Whose are all these objects? Why do museum collections look the way they do? How are the objects sorted and how does this affect history?" Another room discussed how contemporary perspectives on what defines a family determine how historians describe familial relations in the cultures they study. I've certainly never seen an exhibit like that in a history museum. Although the museum also had the obligatory "attractions" (like "Sweden's oldest preserved garment"), it was pretty interesting to see a museum tackle these "how the sausage gets made" type of issues too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2628128938/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3070/2628128938_2c25e71d34.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2627311637/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3193/2627311637_7075074883.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2628129202/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3118/2628129202_aeb07fffb2.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />After all that heady material, it was time to get outdoors. Fortunately, Stockholm has a great outdoor museum dedicated to the culture and history of Sweden. It's called Skansen, and I highly recommend it if you plan on traveling to the city. The museum is a large park filled with historic buildings from all over Sweden. In many of the buildings, there are people in period costume who will take the time to explain to you what the period they're representing was like. There are even artisans like potters and glassblowers making handicrafts by traditional methods.<br /><br />Reading about Skansen and hearing it described, I was a bit worried it was going to be kind of corny and Disney-fied. But the reconstructions were pretty faithful (as best as I could tell), in large part because the historic buildings were actual buildings that had been moved from their original locations from around the country. There was also a section devoted to the wildlife of Sweden, where I got to see a brown bear, some moose, and some reindeer, among other things. Sadly, the wolverines were in hiding when I was there.<br /><br />I had ambitions of checking out the art museum as well (mainly for its highly-regarded design exhibit), but I was pretty tired and it was already mid-afternoon. I still have a small handful of museums on my itinerary, although I have to be strategic about when I go to them because some have weekday afternoons when they're free. And when I do go, I'll be sure to write about it here.<br /><br />I'll leave you with some photos from Skansen.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2628129472/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3130/2628129472_0327f2f182.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2628129702/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3145/2628129702_5f8ca7a2fd.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2628130114/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3037/2628130114_02e0010c00.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2628130410/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3157/2628130410_1ba3028c05.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a>Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-79030683304971233072008-06-29T17:20:00.005+02:002008-06-29T17:33:06.125+02:00Friday night in StockholmThese past couple days were my first weekend here that wasn't a major holiday, so I was a bit curious to find out what Stockholmers do for the <i>helg</i>. It turns out one popular thing to do is go cruising. No, not that kind of cruising (although I'm sure that happens too -- I just wouldn't know about it). I mean the old-fashioned, <i>American Graffiti</i> style cruising. It appears car culture is alive and well in Stockholm. As evening fell on Friday, the street I live on came alive to the sound of car horns and squealing tires as a parade of classic, American cars cruised up and down the street.<br /><br />I was a bit surprised to see people driving their American muscle cars from the 50s-70s with no apparent purpose in a country where gas costs ~$9 a gallon. That said, there were as many or more people parked on the side of the street and chatting by their cars than there were people actually driving them. I'm not really into muscle cars, but I did get a certain feeling of nostalgia for the good ol' U.S. of A.<br /><br />There were a few things that stood out as unfamiliar, though. First, none of the cars had their stereos turned up very loud, and those that did were most likely to be playing some sort of rock. I didn't hear a single thump of hip hop. Also, the crowd had a decidedly middle-aged bent to it. It was definitely more <a href="http://www.hotaugustnights.net">Hot August Nights</a> than <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sideshow_(automobile_exhibition)">Sideshow</a>.<br /><br />My personal favorite car? A big grocery getter station wagon from the 70s painted jet black with flames on the hood. It had some glittery stickers below one of the back windows that said "Remember the 70s". Hell Yeah! Actually, I was only four when the seventies ended, so I don't really remember them, but ... Hell Yeah!<br /><br />Here are a couple non-scientifically collected statistics about the Friday night cruise on Sveavägen:<br /><br />Approximate number of classic cars cruising up and down the street: 40<br />Approximate number of classic cars parked on the side of the street: 50<br />Number of trunk-rattling jams heard: 0<br />Number of songs that sounded suspiciously like "Doctor Doctor" by U.F.O.: 2<br />Number of Volvos squealing tires when leaving a stoplight: 1<br />Number of horns playing "La Cucaracha": 2Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18401413.post-91313051477360626112008-06-25T16:57:00.010+02:002008-06-26T15:47:16.216+02:00At home he feels like a touristLast weekend I decided to take a break from work -- I'd been working for two days, after all :-) -- and took some time to play tourist. Saturday morning I grabbed my camera, some snacks (I can't afford to buy lunch in this town), and a guide book and headed toward downtown via some scenic side streets. Below is a picture of Johannes Kyrka (Johann's Church) and one of the aforementioned, scenic side streets.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2604453620/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3180/2604453620_9e9577cbf1.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2603625519/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3039/2603625519_41200f3e1e.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />I then passed through the city center, which was relatively quiet because it was a holiday. Saturday was Midsummer's Day, which is one of the biggest holidays on the Swedish calendar, reflecting the fact that Swedes are still in touch with their pagan past. Because of the holiday, a lot of shops were closed. Midsummer is a three-day weekend where Stockholm basically empties out as most people head to their houses in the country. Good luck buying a replacement fuse on the Thursday before Midsummer in Stockholm (long story)!<br /><br />One of the first stops on any tourist's itinerary in Stockholm is the Gamla Stan, or old town. It's the site of the original village and still has much of its medieval feel (with the possible exception of the ice cream shops). For those of you unfamiliar with Stockholm's geography, the city center and my neighborhood are on the mainland, while most of the rest of Stockholm sprawls across a number of islands in the brackish inlet between the Baltic and a large lake (called Lake Malären). The Gamla Stan sits on one such island, just south of the city center. It's connected to the mainland by a handful of bridges, one of which passes through the center of the Swedish Parliament.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2604460822/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3152/2604460822_44aaab16ed.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2604461488/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3195/2604461488_59cd52e05c.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />While there are a couple specific destinations on Gamla Stan, like the royal palace (Sweden still has a king and queen -- how quaint!), the main attraction for me was wandering through the narrow, cobblestone streets.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2603638033/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3033/2603638033_016535c7ae.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2603638789/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3136/2603638789_f1d5a14bed.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />In my perambulations, I also wandered onto a small, adjoining island that once housed a few noble manors, but is now home to a church and some government offices. The centerpiece of this island is the statue of Birger Jarl, the founder of Stockholm. Any city founded by someone named Jarl (pronounced Yarrrl, or at least that's how I think it ought to be pronounced) has my respect.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2604482614/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3100/2604482614_89faf8f05d.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />In spite of my best intentions of getting an early start, my internal clock was still a little wonky from residual jet lag (for fans of William Gibson, my soul still hadn't completely caught up) and the fact that it never gets completely dark at night here in June. While I had hoped to beat the tourists, they quickly caught up to me, and after a couple hours it was clearly time to move on. Fortunately, most of the visitors seem to cram onto one street in Gamla Stan. You know the type of street I'm talking about because every tourist zone has one. It's lined with overpriced restaurants, gift shops (in this case selling trolls and Swedish flags), and ice cream shops. But by noon, the spillover into the adjacent streets was getting to feel a bit crowded, so I headed south to the island of Södermalm (literally "Southern Island").<br /><br />Södermalm is allegedly the hip and up-and-coming part of Stockholm. You know the story: working class neighborhood gets "discovered" by artists and hipsters. As much as I aspire to be opposed to gentrification, it sounded like just the type of neighborhood I'd want to "discover" as well. Before I explored all of its hip offerings, though, I needed a snack that was more substantial than the cheese and crackers I'd packed. To the rescue came fried herring from a streetside cart. One of my favorite culinary explorations in any new country is street food. In part this is for practical reasons: I'm usually on a budget when I travel and street food is cheaper than restaurant food. Nevertheless, I think you can get a pretty good window into a country's food from what you can buy from a sidewalk kiosk. I walked up to a kiosk in a square on the north end of Södermalm and ordered the fried herring on a cracker. You probably know the type of cracker; they sell them in the US under the Wasa brand and they look almost excessively healthy. Anne and I call them "adult" crackers. Anyway, the herring was lightly breaded, fried, and placed on one of these crackers. It was then topped with marinated cucumbers, parsley, and red onion. It was heavenly, and only cost ~$5 US (a steal in this town where beer costs $10 a pint).<br /><br />After my fishy snack, I headed to a cliffside walkway along the north of the island that overlooked much of central Stockholm. In the photo below, the black steeple toward the right is of Riddarholmskyrkan on the island where Birger Jarl stands watch. In the background is central Stockholm. As you can see, the city has a relatively low skyline. It reminds me a bit of Paris in terms of its density (lots of 6-8 story buildings), although it has a smaller population; it's about the size of San Francisco. The cranes toward the center of the frame suggest that Stockholm might be prepared to start growing up, but for now most of the high rises are in the suburbs. On the left of the frame, the blocky, brick building is Stockholm's city hall. (If you want to see a more complete panorama, you can check out my Flickr photostream, where I've set up <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/sets/72157605767846840/">a Stockholm album</a>).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/21603139@N00/2604483250/in/set-72157605767846840/"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3034/2604483250_35e0e56b82.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />After enjoying the view, I headed to central Söder (as the hip locals call it, at least that's what my guide book says). Alas, almost all of the stores on the central shopping strip were closed for the holiday. There were still quite a few people out on the street (looking hip), even though none of the stores were open. At the southern end of the shopping district, the street opened into a big square adjacent to a bustling intersection. Here more shops were open, and I was able to get an (overpriced) espresso and some delicious (if also overpriced) carrot cake.<br /><br />After my snack, I hopped on the tunnelbana (metro) and rode back to my place. Riding the metro is right up there with street food on my list of priorities in a new city (I'm a bit of a public transit geek), and this was my first opportunity to do so since I'd arrived -- it's actually faster to walk to the university than to take the metro because of the way the routes are laid out. Anne and I were in New York the weekend before I came to Sweden, and I can only describe that city's subway as dank and decrepit. The Stockholm metro provided a perhaps predictable (given Americans' perceptions of Scandinavian tidiness) contrast.Markhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13980529913430633472noreply@blogger.com2