Effluvia

Two things from Salon today:






Bygone Days
Uncensored!

125 YEARS AGO
May 23, 1875

It is a sad thought that those Memphians who celebrated the Mecklenburg Centennial on May 20 will be unable to attend the next celebration in 1975.

But they can't, 'cause they'll be dead.




Siobhanorama

Siobhan has Hot phone sex!




One Year Ago
Black clothes and Backstreet.

05/23/2000
London, Part 2

I don't know what the fuck is wrong with my site, okay? I'm just going to post the London Journal until the goddamn motherfucking banners go away, okay?

Though I can say that now everything is working fine in Internet Explorer, but not in Navigator. Damn you, Microsoft!




12 March 2000
11:38 p.m. London Time
The Luna-Simone Hotel, Room 9
Westminster, London

Actually, it's very early on Monday morning now, but I'm on vacation. I can stay up late if I want!

So the Wife and I got up around seven or so Friday morning to take Roxy to Sonya's parent's house. It was an early beginning to a long, long day.

I should add here, for the record, that I did start a new job a month ago. The two weeks for this vacation were included in that deal, I assure you.

So Dawne, my beloved sister, picked me and Sonya up about 10:30 and, by a roundabout route, took us to the airport. She's a sweetie. The route included us ending up on the interstate to Mississippi; this prompted me to rewrite an Abba song:

"There was something in the air that night/the stars were bright/in Hernando..."

Hernando being a town right down the road in Mississippi. Well, it's funny if you live around here, anyway.

Dawne also admired my nails, painted black for the long stretch of non-work.

"Ooh, that's Satanic," she said admiringly.

We walked into the airport and Kent and James, our travelling companions, walked in right behind us.

A word or two on Kent and James, whom I think I've only ever just mentioned before:

Kent and James were living at the Gayoso House (another Downtown Memphis apartment building) back in '95 and '96, the same as me and Sonya. They have a Yorkshire Terrier named Nicholas whom I sould often se either Kent or James walking. Dog people being the the friendly souls that we are we got to visiting and we started hanging out. They've moved several times since then (they have excellent taste in both the purchasing and decorating of houses) and, since they have even more disposable income than we do, they were a natural to come along with us. So many of mine and Sonya's friends are single or newly married; it's nice to hang out with another Old Married Couple.

So we checked in for our flight to Minneapolis and went to Cheers, the Memphis airport's "homage" to the defunct TV series. Nachos and beer, buddy, 'cause we's on vacation!

The flight to Minneapolis was unmemorable, except for three things:

  • The four of us did not sit together; we were spread out across several rows. This is the Cheap Internet Ticket Effect. It will be mentioned again later.
  • The flight was incredibly bumpy - by far the worst turbulence I've ever experienced. This was bad, because
  • I had to pee almost from the moment we left the ground. Did I mention that I drank one very large beer at Cheers? I did, and for the three minutes when the "Fasten Seatbelts" sign wasn't on therewas a line to get in the bathroom.

We were greeted at the gate in Minneapolis by Katie, a friend of ours Sonya and I met in Chicago last year. We thought it would be fun to get together and Katie's friend, Miranda - who will be in London later this week - came along, too. We wanted to coordinate scedules and she wanted to show us her Placebo foto-album, which we looked over at a fine meal at Chili's. Miranda has a perky, Alyson-Hanigan-in-American-Pie vibe to her. She'll be fun to hang out with. They stayed 'til we got on the plane and I thought it was sweet of them to come see us while we passed through their chilly city.

So, the ride to London itself. Well, it was a big plane. And we were sitting on the very back row. Most of the plane (at least the economy section we were sitting in) had two aisles, with two seats by each window and five seats in the middle. At the back, though, there were only four seats in the middle. We spread out, made ourselves at home, took some Benadryl and tried to get some sleep.

Did you know that the liquor is free on Northwest's international flights? I didn't, not until we headed back, anyway. Not that I would have drank that much, anyway. Airplanes suck the moisture out of me, and hung over and dehydrated on a London morning that's the middle of the night as far as I'm concerned would have just sucked far too much.

It was tough getting to sleep, though. We left the ground at 8:00 p.m. - a bit before our usual bedtimes, to be sure. With the cabin lights out we all did our best to nod off, but planes are cramped, uncomfortable things. I slept fitfully for a while, listening to opera and Japanese pop hits pipes through the plane's headphones. James and Sonya both got a few solid hours of sleep while poor Kent couldn't sleep at all.

"How you doin'?" I asked him at one point.

"This is a nightmare," he said grimly.

I tried to sleep some more but that got shot to hell when, at 2:00 a.m. our time, the sun started to rise, lighting up the plane. The attendants served coffee, muffins and yogurt. It was morning. It was breakfast. It was hell.

So yeah, it was an eight-hour flight, but I slept on and off and I was excited, so it didn't seem that long. The flight back, I'm sure, will be long enough.

13 March 2000
Five-thirty-ish, in the P.M.

We walk into the terminal and James immediately says, "hey, you can smoke in the airport!" Those wacky Europeans - always with the cigarettes.

I went through customs right behind Sonya.

"You here for twelve days, too?" the Customs Guy asked me. I nodded. He stamped my passport and dismissed me with a quick "cheers."

The train ride from Gatwick to Victoria Station revealed suburban London in all its bucolic splendor. Sonya and I agreed: it looks a lot like Chicago out there. Still, I guess any two civilized neighborhoods built around train tracks would look somewhat similar.

We left Victoria Station (which, we would come to learn, is the center of the universe) and headed down Belgrave Street to our hotel. Unfortunately, our hotel was on Belgrave Road, so that added a few minutes (and miles) to our trip. But we finally made it, and after freshening up we were off to explore London. In quick succession, we saw:

  • Buckingham Palace - It's great big. And the gates are kind of gaudy. And the front yard is made out of gravel. I suppose the Queen thinks Prince Phillip would look undignified riding a lawnmower in front of the tourists. Very impressive, though.
  • Big Ben/Parliament - A nice-sounding clock and a very impressive building. A good seat of government.
  • Westminster Abbey - Easily the finest abbey I've ever seen. Open to tourists tomorrow, too. I'll go back.

Then there was the money issue. I had been trying various ATMs all day to make sure we could get our money, which I'd put in the savings account. I guess they don't have savings accounts in England, though, or a desire to check their balances, either. I'd put my card in and it would ask how much money I wanted. No other options. I freaked out about that for a bit but then I found a phone and, calling America, I made the transfer that way. Problem solved, thank you Jesus.

After a quick dinner of tasty Greek goodies Kent and James decided to retire for the evening, leaving Sonya and I to try out the underground on our way to a walking tour of Haunted London.

The tour was cool, even though I was stumbling towards the end from sleepiness. I had actually had a moment of creeping narcolepsy at dinner, but Sonya didn't catch it or she would have ragged me mercilessly.

The tour took us around the center of the City of London. We saw St. Paul's Cathedral (even grander than Westminster Abbey), St. Bartholomew's Hospital, the remains of Newgate Prison and several churches - including one that was bombed out during the war.

And that kind of impressed me. What must it be like to live in a country where war damage is still sitting all around you? I can't even imagine it - it must eat up your sense of security about where you live.

I saw an interesting sign at one of the pubs we passed on the walk. It said:

SOILED WORKMEN WITH DIRTY
BOOTS WILL NOT BE ADMITTED

That's blunt, isn't it? You'd never see a sign that said

NO FILTHY CONSTRUCTION WORKERS

in the United States.

However, I have seen several stores with signs that welcome workmen (or "builders," as they're quaintly called here). I guess it's a controversy.

Also, nearly every place I've been seems gleefully anti-handicap accessible. Every business, tourist attraction and tube station has lots of steps, narrow doors and hallways and tiny bathrooms. I can see the Daily Mirror headline right now:

LONDON TO CRIPPLES: PISS OFF!

Then we went back to the hotel and passed out. It was a long - but very cool - day.




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