Check It, "The Knowedge" Drops on October 20, 2008!

A’ight, so it’s midterms week, which means I should probably be studying right now. But my first exam isn’t until Wednesday, so y’all know that I’m not going to even begin to think about partaking in any sort of estudiar action until Tuesday at some point. And if that horrid OMS 3001 class I took last semester taught me anything, it’s that past results are the best indicators of future performance. So if this fun little idea is to be believed, I should be fine cramming for three exams on Tuesday night and then for two more on Wednesday night.

Wow, I’m really a terrible student, aren’t I? Sometimes I wonder what I could do academically if I actually put forth some effort… but then I usually just see what’s on the TV and call it good. But alas, there’s no legit source of American TV here and my internet connection is as slow moving as I imagine a drunk John Goodman to be. Hm… is John Goodman still alive? I should probably Wikipedia that shiz to see. Hold on a sec, I’ll be right back. *wanders off into the interwebs* Ok, I’m aquí, again. Turns out he IS actually alive. Surprising, no? Although, the picture Wikipedia offers for him certainly gives one that idea that Mr. Goodman has indeed past into the beyond and the eternal land of chocolate rivers and delicious pastries – a place where no one’s even heard of “Roseanne.” *shudders at the memory of that behemoth singing the national anthem at a Padres game a few years back*

Anyways, the point with all this is that I don’t have anything to really do right now. So I’m blogging. Why the frigg not? There’s a few things that have been on my mind about this whole Spain thing since I got here, and today seems like as good a day as any to drop the knowledge on my one loyal reader (thanks, Amy! :-)). Ok, so I mentioned in my cargo shorts post about how all the residents of this crazy country seem to care a lot about fashion. Thus, doesn’t it stand to reason that they should be at least moderately aware of appropriate hairstyles as well?

I mean, I probably shouldn’t judge seeing as how I’ve rocked the same basic format of hair for myself since the Nixon administration. Although, now that I cut it short, it doesn’t suck anymore to look at (Hence, I officially apologize for my former atrociously long, crappy 1980’s south beach ugly manner in which I had my hair). Moving on, so what I’m getting at here is that the peeps of Spain have NO sense legitness in terms of their hair. Well, I shouldn’t say that; the DUDES have no idea what’s up. Now correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe that the mullet was ever something that one could deem as being appropriate. And that monstrosity is so prevalent here that I believe it’s actually the norm.

But even those guys that aren’t rocking the business/party look are way off. There’s an influx of rattails, faux-hawks, and other items that I don’t believe even have names. Living here and walking around is like being in a never-ending David Bowie music video.

I’ve said many times whilst here that Toledo (and sometimes Spain in general) is basically like a time warp. And that’s certainly true. I mean, this place has existed for over a thousand years and basically served as a military fortress like area for a lot of that time. Thus, the whole thing is cobblestone streets, rock faces, and just tight, old school purpose-serving architecture in general. But it’s basically life a time warp in terms of pop culture as well. I just talked about the hair, but I feel like I should mention the music as well.

Typically, it seems as if this country is just a few months behind the U.S. in terms of said pop culture. Like it doesn’t take too long for movies and music to filter over here, but there’s still some items that make you tilt your head about 38 degrees to the right, 27 forward, move it straight back about an inch and a half, furl your left eyebrow, raise your right one a bit, kind of purse your lips that awkward questioning way, and just direct your gaze directly forward. You know the pose I’m talking about. Try it in a mirror if you want to get an actual visual of what’s etched on my face several times a day here. Or just walk into a room where someone has recently farted. That should produce the same image on your cara.

Example, the other day in some bar I was privileged enough to see the video “Take on Me” by a-ha. ¿Qué? If you haven’t yet seen this video, please head over to youtube and check it out. And after that DEFINITELY take a gander at video that describes the literal happenings in the video. It’s awesome. I also saw a little “Like a Virgin” by Madonna too in a different bar last week. Now perhaps the bartenders or whoever was controlling the TV’s at the time were completely trashed. But nonetheless, seems a bit out of place, I’d say.

Ok, so that’s enough written about the idea of pop culture/hairstyle/and such for a while. Let’s walk down the path a little farther to something else that’s a commonplace in Spain: beggers. All right, so maybe I shouldn’t use that term as (1) the majority of them are offering something in return for money (although, what they’re offering is menial and unwanted) and (2) it’s probably not the most politically correct thing to say. But then again since I’m a terrible citizen, I’m not voting during this election, and thus, I’ll do whatevah the crap I want. Hm… that statement makes no sense at all on any level. *shakes head* Point is, there’s a lot of people around these parts trying to get something for basically nothing.

This was especially noticeable on the beach while in Barcelona. It seemed that our group couldn’t go for more than 8.pi minutes without being offered a massage by some random woman. The girls are consistent too, and a lot of them have their little basic anatomy charts to try and put for the idea of their legitness as well. Needless to say, I’m happier with my five euros.

There was also an influx of people just randomly selling purses and jewelry outside the mall in said city. I mean, it’s certainly possible that all these people were employed by some establishment and were working off commission or something to that effect, but nonetheless, I can assure you that I don’t have any need for a purse at this stage in my life.

However, it definitely isn’t fair that women get to carry such things around. They can put darn near anything they could ever desire/need for any situation in a purse whereas we as dudes have to fit our entire lives in like 10 square inches of leather… that’s possibly bound together via Velcro. But I digress; the day that I start carrying around a bag/purse-like-thing of any sort is the day that I’m wearing a fanny pack. And the day that I’m wearing a fanny pack is a hot summer Saturday in 1993 while I’m at the zoo with my family watching Sparkie the seal balance a ball on his nose while I’m sure he ponders how much he’d love to literally consume his trainer… or the día that I’m in a Richard Simmons “Sweatin’ to the Oldies” vid sporting a jheri curl, hot pink short-shorts, and an unquenchable zest for life.

But back to the matter at hand. I can surely say though that some of these personas are entertaining to watch. In several places in this country I’ve been witness to people who basically pretend to be statues. They dress up in some crazy attire, put on an absurd amount of makeup, and basically just stand still. Some act things out as well. One chap I saw in Barcelona was decked out perfectly as Edward Scissorhands and had all the mannerisms down solid. That was cool. But alas, I have a hard time giving money to people dressed as statues, because… well… they face some pretty stiff (ha – pun!) competition from the actual statues. There’s no way that I could bring myself to give currency to them when they’re clearly inferior to real thing. And obviously I can’t give money to the statues, because that’s both absurd and you know they’re not going to spend the funds wisely.

My favorite of all these people, though, had to be the African fellow in the Madrid metro station at 10:00 at night singing James Blunt’s “You’re Beautiful” in broken, off-key English. THAT guy almost got some change. Almost. And since I didn’t give this guy anything, I certainly can’t give anything to someone of lesser awesomeness than this guy. Thus, since there’s a fair/likely chance that no one will ever top this guy, then morally I can never give to a begger (terminology and semantics aside) in the future.

I should point out, though, that back stateside I have on multiple occasions given to people who’ve just out and out asked for money. My philosophy is that if they really need it, they’re not going to be the cat dressed like Gipetto from Pinocchio that hasn’t shaved since the Cold War who’s out everyday on the Washington Avenue Bridge with a bike, a violin, and a harmonica. They’re going to be real people who you’ve never seen before (and never will again) who look like they really try in life and have just been given a tough break. And they’re humble and genuine enough to admit it and ask for some help. I’ll give to those people darn near every time. But yeah, the peeps in Spain don’t really roll like that. A different item of interest around these parts is the vehicles people choose to conduct. Everything here is a stick shift, so that's actually pretty impressive given how unbelievably narrow, hilly, and curvy Toledo is (and how friggin' massive Madrid and Barcelona are). All the cars are quite small as well and seemingly much more environmentally sound than those that are comman in the U.S. Of course, there's always going to be some toolbag who drives a friggin' Hummer around anywhere you go, but those are definitely extremely rare.

The main tipo de carro that I want to talk about is the moped. They're EVERYWHERE here. And people who drive them show little to no regard for human life. They bust through crosswalks, stop signs, and anything else without any care at all. But whatevs, that doesn't bother me because you can usually hear their whiny sound from blocks away. What is a little sketch is the fact that people who drive them seriously think that they're intense, BA individuals. Sorry. It's literally impossible to have any kind of attitude if you drive a moped.Maybe when you work up to a legit motorcycle you can wear a leather jacket, rock a hardcore mustache, and sport a scowl. Until that day comes, you drive a moped. And no matter how cool you might be when you're not on it, it doesn't matter when you're riding. So don't come at me like you're legit. First, wipe the dribble off your face, have your dad teach you how to shave, and upgrade your mode of transportation. Perhaps a Segway is in order, ya whippersnapper.
Speaking of things that shouldn't really exist, another thing that I’ve noticed around these parts is that fact that seemingly every guy here will catcall any American woman. Now this catcalling bothers some girls a lot and others not at all, but the nonetheless, it’s a pretty inappropriate thing to do on several different levels. Obviously, it’s demeaning to the woman and a dirtbag thing to do. But c’mon, has catcalling EVER worked for anyone? Like is it a valid pickup line that I’m just not aware of? Is there some guy somewhere in the world that once yelled something along the lines of, “Hey, baby!” in his native tongue that actually ended with the female approaching said guy with an attitude that she was (to quote the movie “Swingers”) “ready to party”? Probably and hopefully not. Maybe just walking up to her in a non-threatening manner while in a comfortable setting and introducing yourself would be the best way to go about such a concept. But then again, that’s just me.
On a related note, I must say that someday I’d really like if some female on the street would catcall to me. That’s definitely a bit of a double standard in a way, but I just think it’d be cool as frigg if that happened. Many a girl has told me that she’s baffled that some guy can’t figure out she likes him even after doing all sorts of coy little things to try and get the message across to him. The problem is that guys are stupid creatures. Be direct with them. Make them aware of how you feel. If some girl catcalled to me, then I’d know (probably – I mean, I’m still a stupid guy, but that would make it a heckuva lot easier). Plus, it’d just be funny as crap, so the girl who’d do it would already have an in with humor. There you go. A little Dr. Date for any girls who read this. Like I said, dropping the knowledge today.

This is the part where I usually write something in closing to the post, but I’m thinking I’m just going to leave it as such (although, I realize that this is a closing, so yeah with that). At least it’s not going to go down like the end of The Sop...