Just Your Average 69-Year-Old College Freshman.
Joni Mitchell wrote a beautiful song about street musicians who play “real good for free.”
A Very Merry Christmas to you selfless volunteers, you unpaid artists and you all-around good guys.
Just Your Average 69-Year-Old College Freshman.
THE LAST RIDE — There’s a marvel of engineering under the streets of Barcelona. Massive in scale, it snakes from one barrio to another. No expense has been spared.
First some physics. The tunnels are huge cylinders through which pistons move in perfect synchronicity, building compression in front, a vacuum behind — the same principles the internal combustion engine relies on. Otto von Guericke, thank you.
The force of these vacuums is unfathomable. They reach up onto the streets — pumping and sucking their way into the vestibules of apartment buildings, up the stairwells and elevator shafts. They extract students, employees and retirees from their beds, dress them fashionably, caffeinate them and carry them to the underground cylinders that speed them blissfully on to their purpose in life.
Just Your Average 69-Year-Old College Freshman Studying Abroad.
A SATURDAY NIGHT — Just weeks ago there was a parade in the neighborhood where I’m staying. It’s a regular event in the many barrios of Barcelona.
People march through the streets costumed as devils, carrying live fireworks in their hands. The kids put on slickers and snuggle up close to these fine fiends from hell.
The bands, strictly vocal and percussive, put out a level of energy that goes right through you. The sound is amplified by the buildings and travels down the streets for blocks.
Side note: I always thought “barrio” is a word used to describe slums. Actually it just means neighborhood. Poor, middle-class or fancy— it’s a barrio.
Just Your Average 69-Year-Old College Freshman Studying Abroad.
It’s disturbing to see a man on his knees, begging in front of a line of tourists, in one of Europe’s fabled playgrounds — but there he is.
“A man his age should get a job.” a tourist protests to no one in particular.
It might warm her heart to know that not far away two young men are showing what personal initiative and responsibility look like. They’re in the field of Financial Acquisitions.
They greet visitors on the Metro and effortlessly strip the euro from their wallets before the doors close. They drop the wallets which are returned by bystanders within seconds — the money’s gone but credit cards (not worth the risk of incrimination) are still there.
Times are hard in Barcelona. Beggars and thieves are doing what they can.
Just Your Average 69-Year-Old College Freshman Studying Abroad.
We immediately became friends because of what sets us apart from the others in our class. Ricardo and I are not blondes, beautiful or from Northern Europe.
We talk about work, families, cars and food, always food — “Man V Food” is on TV here with Spanish voice-overs. The finer points of our conversations are lost somewhere between Portuguese and English. My Spanish still isn’t much help.
He bought lunch the last time, I owe him one. So, Ricardo, how about Chicago right after the holidays, when December’s heat finally lets up? That’s a Chicago joke, Ricardo.
