Black Box Theatre...

So the main event for the tail end of the week was our outing to a local production of a play called, “Study of Young Men.”  The main attraction was that one of my classmates was the featured star. Anyway, I don’t think I’d ever been to one of these really intimate productions where the theatre is little more than a dark room with church pew-like seats and the show is done with a single set. And when I say intimate…I mean that in more ways than one.  Let’s just say I got better acquainted with the contours of the young lady sitting beside me than I really wanted to.  Apparently some people are more comfortable with sitting in tight spaces than I, as she didn’t seem to notice anything…not even the fact that she was practically groping my leg throughout. Perhaps the best part though, was when we were first establishing our seating arrangements, a group of four that squeezed in with our group of four on a bench that could comfortably seat six.  A girl in the row in front of us very nicely asked if the guy on the end of our row (a pretty boy that she apparently knew) would like to sit on their row because there was more room.  The genius replied something like, “We’re good.”  I could only shake my head. 

That bit of discomfort aside, the play was quite good and my classmate put in a very strong performance. I would say it was definitely Tony-worthy (ok, let me explain this what turns out to be an inspired bit of word play on my part, since none of you were there…his character name in the play was Anthony, which was often shortened to Tony by the other characters, and of course, you are all aware of the Tony Awards…I crack myself up sometimes).  Moving on, the consensus in our group was the first half was better than the second half. The first half was a lot more fun and filled with inappropriate humor…while the second half was more morbid and depressing. As I tend to like both inappropriate humor and morbidity…it pretty much worked for me.  Plus, there was a generous amount of loud, angry, profanity-laced dialogue…which is always exciting.  In fact, those type of conversations make me wonder just how sheltered my life has been.  Are those types of interactions at all realistic?  I can’t say I’ve ever even come close to any such interaction with anyone.  Perhaps I should add that to my New Year’s resolution list.  Participate in a real-life angry, profanity-laced tirade.  I honestly don’t see it happening…

It's been two days? Time for a recap...

Because I really don't have anything better to do...

-  Michelle and I were happy to finally return to our favorite Thai restaurant in Cambridge after a month and a half hiatus. We were very relieved that our favorite waitress was still there…Michelle thought she had heard her say at the end of last year that she was leaving. Luckily for us, she’s still very much around. Needless to say, our water glasses never dipped below the three-quarters full mark and our plates and silverware were quickly whisked back into their proper places if they were ever so bold as to slip into a less than perfect arrangement. Sometimes you forget how much you miss the little things…

Midweek review...

A brief recap of the almost half week that was...sandwich excitement, more difficulty with British coins, a review of The King's Speech, and much more (not really)...

Signs that you’re back in Cambridge after holiday…

Stock photo of Cambridge to make things marginally less boring (maybe)

-  You spend plenty of time in the Grads Café overlooking the River Cam pretending to study...but really doing more blogging and other stuff…while listening to Norah Jones on endless loop on the Café sound system.

-  When working out in the college gym, you can’t help but wonder how the undergraduate English guys develop such awkward physiques.  Skinny in the chest, shoulders, and lower legs…big thighs…and rather soft, but not really fat middles.  Perhaps it’s the unique and bizarre weight training exercises they employ…such as the leaping squat with barbell or ‘the stork’.

-  You’ve half forgotten the right-of-way rules for bikes and road traffic…leading to a few near misses.

-  Your lungs start burning about halfway through the bike ride into class and your rear end is sore from sitting on the bike seat for the first time since the first week of riding.

-  You’re regularly reminded that Avril Lavigne still rocks as hard as anyone alive (yep, stole that joke directly from Michael Scott…by the way, if you haven’t checked out her old hidden single ‘Why’ you should).

-  You can’t help but notice that all the tools are still found in their normal and expected places (and I don’t mean shovels and rakes).

-  You’re happy to be reminded just how much time students have to do as they please…despite what seems like an intimidating workload from the outside.  And you fear you’re getting too used to this.

-  You find yourself pronouncing the 'a' in the word tomato with an 'ah' sound rather than a long 'a' sound to avoid being corrected by the cafe barista.  You can't help hating yourself for it just a little more every time.

-  Speakers at CRASSH still can’t figure out how to use PowerPoint…probably.

It’s great to be back…seriously.

Bothar Reloaded: Storming the Castle

What you've all been waiting for (or not)...and this time it's the real version, not the other crappy one.

Scotland Days 2 and 3: St. Andrews and other stuff

As we were driving into St. Andrews along the winding and hilly roads, I had a weird sensation of finally visiting, for the very first time, a place I had known all my life.  A place I had grown up with.  One of my favorite yearly rituals, from when I was a kid up until just a couple years ago, was waking up at 5 a.m. (or earlier) for four days in July to watch the British Open golf tournament on TV.  Every year I was transported from my house in Titusville, or on a couple occasions I can remember my grandmother’s house in North Carolina, to Scotland…the old country…a magical land of rain- and windswept hills and golf with picturesque little towns along the sea.  Of course, the Old Course at St. Andrews was the crown jewel.  The unquestioned holy land of golf and the most familiar because the Open tended to visit every 5 years.  I knew practically every hole.  The double greens, the Swilken Bridge on the 18^th fairway, the indomitable Road Hole 17^th, the Road Hole Bunker, the Valley of Sin…all the history.  

Michelle in eskimo garb tending the flag at the "Road Hole"...number 17 at the Old Course

Ireland: Days 6 and 7 (Dublin) and Scotland: Day 1 (Somewhere)

So this update will be short.  I have about 15 minutes left in this pub with WiFi and the bartender is staring at me ominously.  Plus, I thought up a whole bunch of great anecdotes to share on the blog last night while I was lying in bed, but forgot them all today...so instead you get this crap...

-  Yesterday we traveled down to Dublin for our final stop in Ireland.  Our hotel didn't have a bellhop (plus 1,000 points). 

-  Our main event was visiting the Guinness Storehouse.  We learned all about the canonization of Arthur Guinness...maybe not quite, but you would have thought the guy invented world peace rather than an alcoholic beverage.  The building was cool though and I'll throw up some pictures later on.  Michelle managed to choke down a pint.

-  We ate dinner at the Independent Pizza Company in Dublin.  Pretty good spot...one of my usual Dublin favorites.  The meals were good and the dessert was better.  Double chocolate cake with ice cream.  Michelle had to forcibly prevent me from licking the plate...yes, it was that good.

-  Today we flew out on RyanAir (known for its speed, efficiency, low prices, and utter disdain for safety regulations...not sure about the last one, but I just assumed as much).  Made it safely to Edinburgh in 40 minutes.  Then drove our rental car into some indeterminant Scottish wilderness.  We somehow managed to find our destination without knowing the name of the place we were staying or the name of the town it was in.  Impressive!

-  Sadly, no Bothar Reloaded yet...but it's ready for upload when I can find a good connection.

-  Until then...

Ireland: Days 4 and 5 (Ashford Castle and Enniskillen)

As I’m sure you all figured out after viewing “Bothar,” we were on the road yesterday from Ashford Castle to the Loch Erne Resort near Enniskillen, Northern Ireland.  The weather has been much better the last two days…allowing for some outstanding sightseeing.

Ashford Castle

World Premiere of the Dramatic/Comedic Short: "Bothar"

Next stop...Cannes Film Festival.  Since short films are generally rubbish...this probably stands a decent chance.

* A Michelle W. Knott joint, featuring Andrew B. Knott, with technological acquisition device compliments of Anonymous 1 and Anonymous 2.

Ireland: Day 3 (Cliffs of Moher and Ashford Castle)

Getting out on the open road in a foreign country can be very liberating...for the driver at least.  For the passenger...it's merely hours of torture with frequent flinching, seat grabbing, and frantic air braking.  Both Michelle and I experienced both roles today in our road trip from Enniskerry, on the east coast of Ireland, to Ashford Castle, on the west coast of Ireland, by way of Limerick, the Cliffs of Moher, and Galway.

Tower at the Cliffs of Moher

Ireland: Days 1 and 2 (Enniskerry and Powerscourt)

First impressions of Ireland, outside of the airport.  Narrow roads.  Pretty scenery.  Substantial amounts of Guinness.

Powerscourt Gardens

Don't wanna be an American Idiot, na na na...na...na na na na na na!

So yeah...tonight was a pretty good night.  American Idiot on Broadway...with Billie Joe Armstrong as St. Jimmy...my beautiful wife by my side...life doesn't get much better!  And then...Billie Joe goes and takes his shirt off in his final, masterful scene...how good is that?  (Does that seem weird at all...I don't think so.)

Anyway, where was I?  Yeah, American Idiot is a must see show.  If you get the chance, take it!  Great energy, great music, great visuals, and a spot-on commentary of my generation's contradictions and ills.  While I certainly haven't experienced much, if any, of the turmoil firsthand (despite observing and studying from the outside with fascination and an almost perverse sense of guilt the devastating toll our society's obsession with guns, violence, war, hedonism, self-righteousness, and consumerism has had) the themes define who we are as a society and a generation.  Seeing Green Day's American Idiot album acted out on stage...where it was always destined to end up...reminded me of just how amazing and transformative the album is and was. 

Happy New Year!!

A very Happy New Year to my legions of faithful followers out there in cyberspace!  You guys make this whole blog possible...(not really, as I could just as well write it for myself, but it's nice to know that I do have readers all over the world). 

You'll be happy to know that we completed our move yesterday and the new renter has now taken over our house.  Hence, we are homeless in the U.S. for the next week before shipping back out...not that being homeless in the U.S. is all that unique considering the lack of redistributive mechanisms (yeah, I went there).

Anyway, I thought...since I have a bit of time to kill...I would pass along a few suggestions for New Year's resolutions...just in case you were having trouble coming up with one.  These are a few that I'm toying with...