The Warsaw Open, a stop on the ATP Tour for some of the world's great female tennis players, commenced this week. The tennis gods smiled down upon tour organizers and this reporter when former world #1 ranked player, and Russian uber-babe, Maria Sharapova decided to use the tournament to launch her comeback from a shoulder injury that has sidelined her for over 9 months.
A couple friends and I hustled out of work in order to catch the end of her match against an Italian, Tathiana Garbin, and were lucky enough to see Sharapova blow three match points in the second set. This allowed us to actually find our seats and enjoy the third set which she ended up winning 6-3. The reigning queen of grunts did not disappoint:
She has been measured at over 100 decibels on the grunt-o-meter, the equivalent of standing near a police car with its blaring siren. The evolution of grunting in tennis is chronicled in great detail here by the BBC. Sharapova owes a great deal to the pioneer of the grunt in women's tennis, Monica Seles.
Also, last week, on a sun-drenched Friday afternoon, the hard-working folks at AS-dub convened for a faculty social at the nearest oasis, just off the bike-trail leading to school. We at the Chronicle would never condone drinking and cycling, and Polish law is quite strict in this regard, but there's great comfort to be found in enjoying good beer, good food, and good company after only pedaling a couple short kilometers from school. Patio culture is certainly one area where this country is leaps and bounds ahead of my former homeland.
The toughest part about working overseas is missing all of those special moments that happen in a family. It's a huge sacrifice and makes you appreciate the time you are able to spend with them even more. I've been living far away from the ones that I love for many years now and it never gets any easier hearing "You missed it!" after every birthday, graduation party, 4th of July, Thanksgiving, or wedding. Especially weddings.
You see my mom has four siblings, and as luck would have it, or what some might call a tragedy of epic proportion, the five of them gave their mother and father twelve beautiful grandchildren, eleven of them boys. As we all enter into our 30's, most of us, despite repeated warning, have sealed our fate by walking down the aisle. The byproduct of these ceremonies has been some legendary parties, which lead to some great family pictures, since these are the rare occasions when all of us are together.
Last weekend, my cousin Todd was the next in line to get hitched to his fiancee, Jill, and for months, much to my sorrow, I had been slated to miss this huge celebration because it just wasn't possible to get enough time off of work. I was resigned to the fact that AGAIN I would be hearing firsthand accounts of another reception that would go down in history. My brother Paul, however, had other ideas, and made a last minute plea for me to find some way to make the trip. After listening to his cajoling, guilt-inspiring phone call, I relented and made a quick search of the airfare sites. Well, somehow, the planets aligned and I was able to fly into Minneapolis on a Thursday evening, and hop the redeye back to Warsaw on Sunday night. For me, it was more like the "closed eye" since I spent the whole flight to Amsterdam (my first stop) in a deep slumber, reeling from jet lag, family fun time, and exhaustion. The best part was keeping this a covert operation. My brother and his wife Jennifer were the only ones who knew about this last minute change of plans. Everybody, including my parents, who I had just spent Spring Break with in New York a couple weeks earlier, were sure I was destined to miss yet another special occasion. Needless to say, it was something I will never forget, and one of the best decisions I ever made. I'm so glad that we were able to capture the look of both my grandma's and mom's faces when they realized I had made it home. Just make sure you have your box of tissues handy when you watch this video . . . and make sure you take your mom out for brunch today. Of course, don't forget about Grandma!
With the drop in airfare from Europe to the U.S., it was possible to spend spring break this year in New York City. This was my first visit to the Empire State and Luiza's first trip across the Atlantic. To make the trip all that much more exciting, we met my parents, brother Dave, and my two BFF's (that's best friends forever for you folks not versed in adolescent lingo) Brian and Jeff. Brian drove in from Pennsylvania with his girlfriend, Lindsay, and Jeff flew in from Minneapolis with his new cell phone.
We were pretty jet lagged to start things off but managed to go out on the town until the wee hours the first night in town. The next day, we took in the Easter parade before checking out Rock of Ages, a musical based on the music of my formative years, the hard-rockin, spandex clad 80's. If you grew up in that era, you will love this show starring American Idol alum Constantine Maroulis. It was a heaping helping of cheese, but who doesn't love cheese? They even worked in a four-pack of Bartle's and Jaymes as a prop.
The next morning, the boys left and we had been lucky enough to score tickets to Letterman. All of you High School Musical fans out there will be jealous to find out that I was seated only twenty feet away from Dave's first guest, Zac Efron. (queue squealing girls) It was interesting to get a behind the scenes look at how the Late Show is produced but it loses a bit of luster when you are being goaded into laughing and clapping. Don't get me wrong, I'm still a big Dave fan, but think he was much funnier back in the NBC days when the comedy was edgier and he interacted with the audience a lot more. Through the magic of youtube, check out the classic Velcro Suit, Marshmallow suit, and Chip Suit. Just the Chronicle's small contribution in keeping you productive at work. The rest of the week was spent just being tourists. We went to see Billy Elliott, the Tony Award winning "it" musical this year. It was spectacular to see all these kids performing some jaw-dropping dance moves with impeccable timing. Though I'm sure they've broken some child labor laws while preparing for the show since the choreography and songs were mind blowingly complex. One of the tiny ballerina girls who stole the show was only seven years old.
We saw our share of tall buildings, heading to the top of both the Empire at night, and Rockefeller Center during the day. If you only have time for one, make sure it's the "Top of the Rock". They've really streamlined the process by putting a time for you to show up on your ticket, and then showing a video detailing the building's history during your brief twelve minute wait. Mom and Dad tooled around Central Park in a bicycle cart driven by a Macedonian medical student. They learned all about Yoko Ono's dominance of the Dakotah Hotel (she owns seven apartments there) and how she blackballed Madonna from getting an apartment. There were many other trivial tidbits that escape me but my Mom can tell you more about them.
While they were learning the inside celebrity scoop, the proverbial cherry on our sundae happened on Saturday, when we just happened to ride our rental bikes through a shoot of "Law and Order: SVU". I just wish my parents, who are HUGE fans of the series, all three installments, were there to see it. I was hoping that Mariska Hargitay, who my father informed me is the daughter of famed pin-up gal Jayne Mansfield, would arrest me, but no such luck. The locals paid no attention, however, since the city is such a popular backdrop for both film and television.
Luiza, Dave, and I saw a show at the famed Comic Strip, but unfortunately most of the comics we saw were hacks, especially the final five we endured who were given just a few minutes in front of the mic to prove their comedic chops. All of them failed miserably and made me glad that I only have to make sixth graders laugh everyday. Comedy is not easy folks. It was cool to have this uniquely American experience since there is no stand-up scene here in Warsaw.
I feel really lucky to have had this chance to see my family (Chicky and Scrote too!) for a week and introduce them to Luiza. Having the time off in the middle of the spring to hop on an overseas flight and play in New York City is just one more reason I never take this job or the special people in my life for granted*queue the video*
Now this is more like it. Mother Nature has decided to let go of her lingering embrace of Jack Frost. The blizzard of "snirt" captured by my camera a couple weeks ago seems like a distant memory as the darkness of winter's tunnel has ceded to the inevitability of changing seasons, toasty sunshine, and the fairer sex shedding their winter coats in favor of something more, errrrr, revealing.
The first race on the burgeoning Warsaw running calendar came and went with lots of fanfare. The Carrefour (French supermarket chain) Warsaw Half Marathon, which is a distance of 21 km over here, not 13.1 miles, turned a crisp Sunday morning spent recovering from Saturday's rugby match into something akin to running through a crowd armed with bamboo sticks. Nobody was actually hitting me, but with every step on the uneven cobblestone streets jiggling my bruised, pasty-white thunderthighs (it's tough to run in the winter), it certainly felt like it. Special guest at the runner expo was none other than famed run-walk-run guru and U.S. Olympian, Jeff Galloway. I wanted to see if he remembered meeting me at the Portland Marathon back in 2001, but didn't see him after my finish. Maybe I should've looked around, but the post-race celebration at Rooster was calling. Last Sunday, it seemed like the whole city decided to spend the day outdoors, after the requisite trip to mass, with palms in hand. The Old Town was bursting with both tourists and locals queuing up for ice cream, sipping beers on the square, or capturing footage of their youngsters chasing each other around the fountain. Those of us who opted for a faster mode of transportation, the bike, cruised from park to park and over bridges in search of pubs and restaurants with inviting patios. From Pub Lolek to Metal Bar to the legendarily eclectic Spider Bar across the river in Praga, we cycled for hours, the last stop being my favorite spot for grub, Boston Port.
It's all downhill from here as we roll on towards summer like an 18 wheeler crossing North Dakota on I-94. This beautiful weather makes me so metaphorical. Anyway, check out this vid. Bluegrass music is taking this great nation by storm and I was one of the first on the bandwagon. It sounds great with Louie Armstrong lightly playing in the background. There is also a great clip of one of the funniest running costumes ever, second only to Mr. Blister and Captain Cramp in creativity, but definitely tops in degree of difficulty. Thanks for reading!
Nobody in this country cleans up after their dog. There are brown landmines of every shape and size littering the city of Warsaw. I probably have to dodge these lawn sausages at least a dozen times a day from the moment I walk out of the gate of my building until I ride my bike through the Kabaty Forest on my way home from work.
People really have no collective fecal conscience here. I'm sure they believe that these canine colon cannonballs are biodegradable and will eventually be swallowed up by the ground. Instead, they just lie in wait for some unlucky pedestrian to plant his painstakingly polished loafer into its squishy goodness. On a related note, did you know that through the power of the internet, you can send somebody (preferably someone you don't like) a bag of doggie duds? Check out this site . It's even been featured in Time and Maxim magazines so apparently someone is ordering enough to keep them in business. Too bad this didn't exist back when the Unabomber was terrorizing America. You can't be sentenced to life in a super maximum security prison for Fedexing dogcrap but it sends the same message as a bomb without the bloody mess: "You're not really my favorite person."
Anyway, the commercial crusade that encourages Poles to "Clean up after your dog man." has reached the airwaves of MTV. I haven't personally seen it, since that would require me to sit through some of their mindless programs (Tia Tequila? My Super Sweet Sixteen? Whatever happened to music videos?) but the magic of Youtube will allow you to watch it over and over.
It took fourteen hours and around forty people to film this one minute commercial. I was happy to be a part of something that gives back to society, something that just may make Europe (it will be shown in other countries) a safer place to wander around without constantly staring at the ground.
Last week, we had "winter break", more commonly known by its other name: Ski Week. Luiza and I were lucky enough to find a cozy little apartment nestled in the French Alps near the famous Alpe D'Huez resort. Click on the map to the right for a better view.
This was my first European ski experience and I found it much different than the U.S. Here, you are treated too much longer runs, some as long as 4-5 miles, but you are riding / skiing straight down the face of a mountaintop glacier rather than through powder-covered mountain runs carved out of vast stands of evergreens. Finding pockets of "freshies" can prove to be quite difficult, especially when day after day is bathed in glorious sunlight. I'm not complaining . . . it was just a bit, like I said before . . . different.
Also, rather than one ski lift taking you to the top of the mountain, you might have to hop onto an aerial tramway or gondola lift before jumping on a chair lift to take you to the peak. The area we were at reportedly has 93 different lifts. This may seem like a mind-boggling number of ride choices but I am thinking they are including surface lifts in order to inflate that figure.
The Dutch continue to live up to their reputation as a fun-loving, hard-partying bunch. We walked to the only hotel in Allemont for Après-ski and found out that it had been bought in the last year by an Amsterdammer. The place was filled to capacity by fifty of his fellow countrymen and boy did they know how to party. The hotel bar was packed with people dancing on tables (which included us after awhile) and singing along with the in-house band. Strangely enough, their well-behaved children, numbering at least twenty, were in the adjacent room having dinner while being attended to by hotel staff. After eating, they then left their parents to party while they went to bed, on their own! Not only do the Dutch know how to party but their children are self sufficient. Not bad. After five straight days of me riding my board and Lu on her skis, our bodies felt like one of those Stretch Armstrong dolls from back in the 70's. Next time we will enjoy more Apres Ski and less of those quad burner 10K long black diamonds. Though over here, they aren't diamonds, just black lines. However, you can't possess nearly the same amount of bravado when you tell your sporty friends how you were rippin' it up on the black line runs.
Anyway, hope that spring has almost sprung in your neck of the woods. We are still getting some dustings of śnieg over here in the Polska land. Oh, by the way, we wish you a happy Women's Day. This is the day that you honor the women in your life which means makeshift flower stands all over the city are having their best day of the year selling tulips and roses. So if you have a Polish woman (or one of Polish descent) in your life, make sure you surprise her by acknowledging her existence on this special day.
The feminists were out in force today, making sure their calls for liberation for Polish women were heard in the form of a live female rap group on the back of a semi truck. Yeah, I don't get it either. Whatever happened to the art of the protest song?:
The Warsaw Open, a stop on the ATP Tour for some of the world's great female tennis players, commenced this week. The tennis gods smiled down upon tour organizers and this reporter when former world #1 ranked player, and Russian uber-babe, Maria Sharapova decided to use the tournament to launch her comeback from a shoulder injury that has sidelined her for over 9 months.
