Samiko

I'm pet sitting for a neighbor's boy cat named Samurai. I figure since he's got a Japanese name too, Tobiko will greet him with open paws... she's got a different idea:


Ha, I stared-ed him down. He go bye-bye now.


He cannot reached me. He iz clumzy.


He alwayz bother me so I gain ground.


No! He founded my toyz. Them are mine!


Wait, when did diz happen?!

Loch Ness Monster Debunked

Ponts de Lyon

I've only been two places in France - Paris, and now Lyon. While being very different cities in many aspects, the thing they have in common is that a river runs through them. Paris of course has the Seine and Lyon has Le Rhône. This means there are a lot of bridges (ponts) around and this is a thing to consider when navigating the city. I suppose it's like living in Brooklyn when you know what time of day to avoid the traffic on a certain bridge.

Our hotel overlooked the river and was situated close to the main town center and "old town" as the Lyons call it. Even their "new" town is of course, a lot older than anything we got going on here in the U.S.

This is one of those places that you constantly walk backwards with camera in hand to try to get all the spectacular architecture in the shot before you hit a building behind you. It's not often possible.

Just when you think you can look up and see some empty sky, there is another structure to defy that logic. But at least you always know what time it is.

There's always plenty of marvelous fountains around, in case you want your picture taken with some bad ass French dude who has a lot of horsepower.

Of course the English have no respect for French fountain art.

In old town, there's even less space to shoot a photo.

Just to prove I was there and didn't grab these images from the internet, here is SV and I dining in old town at, you know, that place on the corner of the cobblestone street.

On Kraków - Trip Report in Photos

And now back to our regularly scheduled program.

If you haven't ever been to Poland, you simply must go. Take it from me - Warsaw has got nothing on the second most popular city in the country - Kraków. If you want a city that's smokin', Kraków is the place to be. If you do get there, you must take the tour that I did. First of all, sign up here with these guys. They go see dead people:



For the trip, it's best to first take in some local flavors. You can usually find them in a place like this little hole in the wall:



If you're not sure what type of beer to order in Poland; a pilsner, stout, or wheat beer... may I suggest the third item down - it's pronounced strong beer in English:



Then you can feel like this guy:



Don't forget you need some good ol' polish sausage and fried cabbage to go with your beers. If you are lucky like me, the football game will be on TV so no one will notice you're a tourist taking pictures with your food.



Then once you got a full belly, you can go check out a castle like the Warwick one - it survived the Nazi's destruction and burning unlike Warsaw, so that's cool:



Stop and feed the pigeons on the way:



You might as well stop and get hitched or something while you're there because let's face it, there's no bad back drop for your photos:



Last, but not least, don't forget to take in some art while you're there, because the city is kind of known for it. Here's one by some guy that's making movies now about some Code with an Angel or Demon, or something:



All and all, it was a pretty amazing trip and I have to thank the Southern Poles for inspiring my next entertaining theme - a Pierogi Party!

Auschwitz Concentration Camp - Poland

I suppose I should write some kind of warning about the nature of this post because most my followers that click here probably expect to see more cat pictures, or the latest "Ho in Hockey" adventures, or what Coach Lance has said this time. The warning should be like the one at the short movie displayed at the entrance into Auschwitz - the largest Nazi Death Camp in Poland. The warning states no one under the age of 14 should be allowed to view the movie, and you might want to consider that because I posted a few pictures from that very place.


I confess that I didn't even watch the movie. Visiting this horrible place was enough emotional turmoil for me, and I won't do it again.

In life, I choose to focus on the positives, even when it is hard to find. That is why I'm the least politico in my family. When Bush won the last election, I shamefully just sort of tuned out, and tuned back in when I heard Obama's speeches about Change. I've never seen realistic war movies like Platoon or Saving Private Ryan, even though I know they are fictional. I prefer movies like Kill Bill, where the violence is so absurd, there's no way it can be real. As much as I try to avoid it, I do know it's important to know what horrors are going on in the world so that I can feel damn lucky about my own life and stand up for what I believe in.


I guess that is why I found myself alone, on a two-hour bus ride from Krakow to the town of Oświęcim, dreading the actual arrival to my destination. Proud of my decision not to join a huge tour bus that gives each attendee a little lunch bag on their way to a spot where over one million Jews and Poles were murdered, I rode the local bus in silence. At each stop, I intently searched the faces of the locals returning home from a hard day's work. I wanted to see if the elderly had a brow-line wrinkle which embedded the town's horrible history in its fold. I wanted to tell them all that I was sorry for their loss. But I stared out the window and prepared myself instead.


I knew I would be moved emotionally at this place, but I didn't think I'd cry, even though I heard it happens often. Afterall, the horror took place over 60 years ago and I don't know anyone personally who was killed. I thought crying is for the people who lost someone - maybe a grandmother, or a distant cousin. I was wrong.

I also didn't join a tour group at the museum but chose to wonder around on my own, reading the signs, and taking pictures. I avoided the large groups and entered the buildings on exhibition only when they were not crowded. I didn't speak to anyone. The gruesome details unfolded, just like the movies we've all seen, and worse. At times, it was hard to believe that it happened - that humans can be that cruel to their own race - like flying a huge jet into a building full of people, on purpose. But it happened.

I was feeling very sick to my stomach, but didn't cry when I stared at the millions of empty Zyklon B gas cans.


Or visited one of the crematoriums.


I didn't cry when I saw the ton of hair removed from the female victims that the Nazis were selling to the textile businesses.


Or the gallows in the courtyard (recreated) that is the site of the biggest public execution when 12 people were hanged.


I didn't cry looking at the torture room, the standing cells, or the room where the victims undressed before they were put to death, which is making me sick again as I write.


But while walking down a long hallway in one of the cell blocks, with victims' photographs plastered on the wall from end to end, I paused at this one, and that's when I lost it. Who was she? What would she have become? Who put this flower there? Did they know her? Do they miss her? I am sure she was loved.


People are capable of doing horrible things to each other, it's important to remember, even though I'd prefer to forget.

U R Leavin Me, I Nozit

Not happy boutzit.

Towanda!

Here's my first attempt at fried green tomatoes. I was going to call up my sister and ask her how she makes them, or search the blogs of those good cooks like Megan and Dr. Monkey. But in the end, I was in the kitchen hungry and just decided to wing it. Besides, you can't go wrong with panko, in my opinion. I used some really fresh green tomatoes from the farmer's market, dipped them in peppered flour, egg wash, and the panko bread crumbs, and they turned out great. They were firm, yet melted in your mouth.

In case you're wondering, I served them with my home-made saag, and some marinated shrimp escabeche à la Flay. So that's what you call some southern, Indian, French goodness.