tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82598525295173538582024-03-13T03:27:43.497-07:00C Benny C's Journal of DiscoursesA selection of my more entertaining journal entries describing my life overseas in the Middle East.CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-896744303401236762011-07-03T05:23:00.000-07:002011-07-03T05:38:53.246-07:00How to get people to come to my blog pageI just discovered the "Stats" tab on my blog dashboard page, which keeps track of how many people view my blog and what countries they live in and what pages they are viewing. I was surprised to discover that the posting I made last year about my beard (<a href="http://curtcannon.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive.html">click here</a>) was BY FAR the most viewed page. It's not even that good.<br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>When I found the "traffic sources" tab, however, I had an explanation. This link tells you what sights people come from when they are directed to your blog. For some it is not surprising: Facebook and email, as I put those up, as well as the blogs of friends and relatives who may have put up a link to mine. </div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>However, the number 1 source of traffic for my blog BY FAR was google searches. Specifically, people searching for Zack Morris. Here was the breakdown of Google search terms that led to people coming to my blog: <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 333px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625103420782913954" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9xy4et76WeA/ThBhwhSZqaI/AAAAAAAABbc/c5GRBqKKylU/s400/MyBlogStats.jpg" /><br />I would like to thank Zack Morris for sending so many readers my way. Also a minor thank you to Crown Prince Hamdan and to Really Fat Santa (which likely leads them <a href="http://curtcannon.blogspot.com/2010_10_01_archive.html">here</a>) for their contributions. And to the 3.7% of readers who are going to the effort of googling my name. <br /><br /></div><br /><div></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-22309078916002721102011-07-01T09:27:00.000-07:002011-07-01T10:19:16.144-07:00Flat Stanley comes to Visit!My niece Grace sent me her friend Flat Stanley so that I could take some pictures of my life here in Dubai. Like a true consultant I put the presentation into PowerPoint and have uploaded the slides as JPG images. I had meant to post these pictures shortly after back in 2010, but never got to it (I have a large backlog of uncompleted posts). I figure every now and then it's good to have a second grade level reminder of what you're doing with your life, and lots of this was news to my sister and mom when they saw the Flat Stanley presentation, so maybe I should share it with anybody else who might care. The beard has since gone by the wayside as I recorded at the time (<a href="http://curtcannon.blogspot.com/2010_05_01_archive.html">click here</a>).<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EqGZbjnfKTg/Tg3_ggYyDII/AAAAAAAABbU/eOeSh1epSGA/s1600/FlatStanley17.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 237px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624432443570392194" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EqGZbjnfKTg/Tg3_ggYyDII/AAAAAAAABbU/eOeSh1epSGA/s400/FlatStanley17.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0nFoYLP0SWE/Tg3_gWN85FI/AAAAAAAABbM/YGv0zfH1I8I/s1600/FlatStanley16.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 220px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624432440840610898" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0nFoYLP0SWE/Tg3_gWN85FI/AAAAAAAABbM/YGv0zfH1I8I/s400/FlatStanley16.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TDqKXvJqRuQ/Tg3_WYB3tfI/AAAAAAAABbE/k9XC6uNdTVw/s1600/FlatStanley15.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 226px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624432269528118770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TDqKXvJqRuQ/Tg3_WYB3tfI/AAAAAAAABbE/k9XC6uNdTVw/s400/FlatStanley15.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zgFBJKS_LPg/Tg3_WAq-1mI/AAAAAAAABa8/6G3tSURByoQ/s1600/FlatStanley14.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 383px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624432263258101346" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zgFBJKS_LPg/Tg3_WAq-1mI/AAAAAAAABa8/6G3tSURByoQ/s400/FlatStanley14.jpg" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bQFQsv_q9JA/Tg3_VoB0QCI/AAAAAAAABa0/FIv5dMQaVdA/s1600/FlatStanley13.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 277px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624432256642990114" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bQFQsv_q9JA/Tg3_VoB0QCI/AAAAAAAABa0/FIv5dMQaVdA/s400/FlatStanley13.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fDRpO5Thp0g/Tg3_VGamt3I/AAAAAAAABas/DyZnDgiw_X4/s1600/FlatStanley12.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 307px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624432247620155250" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fDRpO5Thp0g/Tg3_VGamt3I/AAAAAAAABas/DyZnDgiw_X4/s400/FlatStanley12.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H1DM4c-X2eU/Tg3_VFShQ-I/AAAAAAAABak/FSE1xfIoRrs/s1600/FlatStanley11.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 221px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624432247317808098" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H1DM4c-X2eU/Tg3_VFShQ-I/AAAAAAAABak/FSE1xfIoRrs/s400/FlatStanley11.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6NBFHOhWsi8/Tg39AAtZbYI/AAAAAAAABac/Hvv4izzY6VI/s1600/FlatStanley10.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 273px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624429686287854978" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6NBFHOhWsi8/Tg39AAtZbYI/AAAAAAAABac/Hvv4izzY6VI/s400/FlatStanley10.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8FtrbE9PYtU/Tg39AG1LMpI/AAAAAAAABaU/C6KDVgsqSLc/s1600/FlatStanley9.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 318px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624429687931089554" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-8FtrbE9PYtU/Tg39AG1LMpI/AAAAAAAABaU/C6KDVgsqSLc/s400/FlatStanley9.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z-bo-2H6tAY/Tg38_7XbbwI/AAAAAAAABaM/G4JfTnfSTso/s1600/FlatStanley8.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 310px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624429684853534466" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z-bo-2H6tAY/Tg38_7XbbwI/AAAAAAAABaM/G4JfTnfSTso/s400/FlatStanley8.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zg5fHSblOvE/Tg38_Xj90hI/AAAAAAAABaE/I3Dj0ferLnU/s1600/FlatStanley7.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 264px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624429675242443282" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Zg5fHSblOvE/Tg38_Xj90hI/AAAAAAAABaE/I3Dj0ferLnU/s400/FlatStanley7.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TPRahv4aBE0/Tg38_X5WZGI/AAAAAAAABZ8/RixL8ZtxPWQ/s1600/FlatStanley6.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 296px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624429675332133986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TPRahv4aBE0/Tg38_X5WZGI/AAAAAAAABZ8/RixL8ZtxPWQ/s400/FlatStanley6.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BJxTKLKCk0I/Tg36LQnFxhI/AAAAAAAABZ0/Xwju0iDJsaU/s1600/FlatStanley5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 242px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624426581000046098" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BJxTKLKCk0I/Tg36LQnFxhI/AAAAAAAABZ0/Xwju0iDJsaU/s400/FlatStanley5.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m0F-FdihDbg/Tg36LMsYYBI/AAAAAAAABZs/O2eLsnpl4yo/s1600/FlatStanley4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 278px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624426579948494866" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m0F-FdihDbg/Tg36LMsYYBI/AAAAAAAABZs/O2eLsnpl4yo/s400/FlatStanley4.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5KxOhp4l38s/Tg36KxlmMmI/AAAAAAAABZk/c80fG2jJ4Z4/s1600/FlatStanley3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624426572672283234" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5KxOhp4l38s/Tg36KxlmMmI/AAAAAAAABZk/c80fG2jJ4Z4/s400/FlatStanley3.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sH_dGC2a3aE/Tg36KE6g9FI/AAAAAAAABZc/0C2KfOC0atE/s1600/FlatStanley2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624426560680424530" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sH_dGC2a3aE/Tg36KE6g9FI/AAAAAAAABZc/0C2KfOC0atE/s400/FlatStanley2.jpg" /></a> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LQupWt7LkD4/Tg36KImL4AI/AAAAAAAABZU/YHePLEK3SZ4/s1600/FlatStanley1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 337px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5624426561668898818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LQupWt7LkD4/Tg36KImL4AI/AAAAAAAABZU/YHePLEK3SZ4/s400/FlatStanley1.jpg" /></a> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-40471394053416887252011-02-25T10:19:00.000-08:002011-02-25T11:41:13.988-08:00The Grand Camel Prix<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GDkbtu1tRFQ/TWf776_gPhI/AAAAAAAABWs/f98dp6_RUL0/s1600/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B170.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577703670388112914" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GDkbtu1tRFQ/TWf776_gPhI/AAAAAAAABWs/f98dp6_RUL0/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B170.JPG" /></a>Camel racing is touted in most UAE tour guide books as a "must see" experience for any visitor to the country. However, it is next to impossible to get information about it from anywhere. There is no designated website, I couldn't find any blogs or anything that confirmed that anybody had actually ever been to one, let alone information about a scheduled race. My theory is that the people who are actually into camel racing (mostly UAE citizens) don't have much interest in making it a big public spectacle and they figure anybody who should be at the race will generally know when it's supposed to happen. I had made three trips out into the desert to see them, but each time I was disappointed when the workers at the tracks told me they weren't happening that day. <div><div><div><div><div></div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577710905568589858" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fR4T-DXqNa4/TWgChEI8-CI/AAAAAAAABXU/DjJNNi6BSJw/s400/To%2Bbe%2BOrganized%2BFeb%2B1%2B141.jpg" /></div><div>However, the third fruitless trip, I found a printed schedule in Arabic informing me of the race days. So on my fourth visit I finally saw the races, which kick off early in the morning on weekdays, and a glorious spectacle it was. </div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577703660793430210" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-K_NauOzi21E/TWf77XP9AMI/AAAAAAAABWk/FilKWFxnfaU/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B127.JPG" /></div><div>They line the camels up:</div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577701769539843538" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pN0h38zzBSM/TWf6NRx9ddI/AAAAAAAABVs/POVv4FOGrCU/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B132.JPG" />And off they go:</div><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577701774057387138" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hha6Q_MvzII/TWf6NinBtII/AAAAAAAABV0/KJ_IwiUhmvQ/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B134.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577701778593279906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kqlsSV1oMxQ/TWf6Nzgd76I/AAAAAAAABV8/R-oeKpkZ6pI/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B135.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577701778527694834" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vT4gAiOoKvw/TWf6NzQ1L_I/AAAAAAAABWE/I-rz7yqM5pI/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B136.JPG" /> <div></div><div></div><div>Now it used to be that they had small children be the camel jockeys, usually imported from some low income south Asian country or another (Bangladesh for example). However, this inhumane practice has been replaced by robot jockeys, which are just as awesome as the name implies. They're typically small boxes with a little whip that smacks the camel's hide: <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577701229160693458" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KKjKhaDJnp4/TWf5t0th_tI/AAAAAAAABVE/-2JlJIyqGzI/s400/To%2Bbe%2BOrganized%2BFeb%2B1%2B142.jpg" /></div><div></div><div>Of course, the robot must be controlled via remote, which means along side the entire dirt track there is a paved road, where a fleet of SUVs follow alongside the race with all the owners, trainers, video crews, and general camel papparazzi. Which itself is a spectacle almost as fun to watch as the camel race itself. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577703655650646850" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bc5B6Z7QVgQ/TWf77EF0W0I/AAAAAAAABWU/i-R5RDt7xDk/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B111.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577713650666215314" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ppydYy8J2zQ/TWgFA2bOl5I/AAAAAAAABXk/UsT8Fb9hhGs/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B152.JPG" />Because the track is too big to see the majority of the race (there's a 4 km track and an 8 km track, or 2.5 and 5 miles), the video crews in the cars film the race for the excited crowd of spectators. Meanwhile an announcer, who I can only assume is the Dubai version of Marv Albert, narrates the race excitedly. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577701242908006578" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ixdufl03YOg/TWf5un7JWLI/AAAAAAAABVc/hb9L7crPRaQ/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B122.JPG" /> Afterwards the owners all jump out of their cars and hurriedly congratulate each other on the results (the most important victory went, to nobody's surprise, to the Crown Prince Sheikh Hamdan). </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577703656084059362" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JRO5X6qvN4Q/TWf77FtJtOI/AAAAAAAABWc/3C_RpiJG6bs/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B116.JPG" /></div><div>Then the next race begins, and at some point while the next heat is down at the far end of the track where no one can see them, the winners, adorned with flags and some kind of orange paint, are paraded out to everyone's applause: </div></div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577701246220204898" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VYgNopCEQQ4/TWf5u0Q1e2I/AAAAAAAABVk/aXNxZsS-7dg/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B144.JPG" />The season is almost over for camel racing, but the nice thing about visiting the track is that on almost any morning, you can go see the camels doing their training and really get up close and personal with them. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577701232587034594" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9mLTo0wNbVQ/TWf5uBebz-I/AAAAAAAABVM/SPL80GT6QXY/s400/To%2Bbe%2BOrganized%2BFeb%2B1%2B138.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577701239487344002" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xmsq7P0fXnE/TWf5ubLmLYI/AAAAAAAABVU/iTfuMz154ZY/s400/Camel%2BRacing%2Betc%2B196.JPG" /><br /><div>Occasionally, you can even challenge them to a race of your own.<br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fygt_poZqw0/TWf909uwg2I/AAAAAAAABXM/-cvVBo4XXZ8/s1600/Chad%2527s%2BPics%2B376.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577705749887353698" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fygt_poZqw0/TWf909uwg2I/AAAAAAAABXM/-cvVBo4XXZ8/s320/Chad%2527s%2BPics%2B376.jpg" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nVegHDZ428A/TWf9vRYRplI/AAAAAAAABXE/AqegQlaRtAY/s1600/Chad%2527s%2BPics%2B382.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5577705652082550354" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nVegHDZ428A/TWf9vRYRplI/AAAAAAAABXE/AqegQlaRtAY/s320/Chad%2527s%2BPics%2B382.jpg" /></a></div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nVegHDZ428A/TWf9vRYRplI/AAAAAAAABXE/AqegQlaRtAY/s1600/Chad%2527s%2BPics%2B382.jpg"></a></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nVegHDZ428A/TWf9vRYRplI/AAAAAAAABXE/AqegQlaRtAY/s1600/Chad%2527s%2BPics%2B382.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nVegHDZ428A/TWf9vRYRplI/AAAAAAAABXE/AqegQlaRtAY/s1600/Chad%2527s%2BPics%2B382.jpg"></a></div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div><div>Coming soon to a track near you: Man v. Camel.</div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-27350788686552577072010-11-23T07:25:00.000-08:002010-11-23T07:45:15.571-08:00Curtis Goes Fashionista, Part 2On a previous posting I thrust myself into the hitherto unexplored world of fashion: <a href="http://curtcannon.blogspot.com/2010/03/curtis-goes-fashionista.html">http://curtcannon.blogspot.com/2010/03/curtis-goes-fashionista.html</a><br /><br />By way of update, I would like to break the good news that, seven months after going public with the yellow pants purchase, I have gained my first convert to the world of yellow skinny pants. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm round of applause for Bekah Ellsworth. Upon her brief (26 hour) layover in Dubai she could not resist purchasing the same "Original Military First Men's Jeans" that I had. Though, in the words of Will Smith, the difference between she and I is she makes this look good. For more details, you can visit her two postings on Dubai at:<br /><a href="http://chilebek.wordpress.com/2010/11/21/hello-dubai-a-k-a-the-tale-of-two-cities/">http://chilebek.wordpress.com/2010/11/21/hello-dubai-a-k-a-the-tale-of-two-cities/</a><br /><a href="http://chilebek.wordpress.com/2010/11/21/dubai-top-ten-a-k-a-addendum/">http://chilebek.wordpress.com/2010/11/21/dubai-top-ten-a-k-a-addendum/</a><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542767733047444626" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOvd4ujKRJI/AAAAAAAABTk/wSQxQKKHYDw/s400/BekahYellowPants2.jpg" /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOvd7fPzCII/AAAAAAAABT0/YRY08PVmZIg/s1600/BekahYellowPants34.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542767780479305858" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOvd7fPzCII/AAAAAAAABT0/YRY08PVmZIg/s400/BekahYellowPants34.jpg" /></a> <div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOvd6pFm00I/AAAAAAAABTs/V4nOiUrtcC8/s1600/BekahYellowPants4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542767765941048130" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOvd6pFm00I/AAAAAAAABTs/V4nOiUrtcC8/s400/BekahYellowPants4.jpg" /></a> <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542767727923072482" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOvd4bdajeI/AAAAAAAABTc/Mt5DV4VarOY/s400/BekahYellowPants1.jpg" /> <div><div><div><div>For those of you who need to cool down a bit after witnessing the collective fireball of hotness which is encompassed in the prior four pictures, fear not, I offer some relief as we also managed to capture a more chill side of the Dubizz: </div><div> </div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOveJDB7wfI/AAAAAAAABUE/Bj7cDWwwx8A/s1600/Sweetsyles1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542768013423133170" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOveJDB7wfI/AAAAAAAABUE/Bj7cDWwwx8A/s400/Sweetsyles1.jpg" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOveEsEP1NI/AAAAAAAABT8/dowT5YXhi8c/s1600/Sweetstyles2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 268px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542767938539345106" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TOveEsEP1NI/AAAAAAAABT8/dowT5YXhi8c/s400/Sweetstyles2.jpg" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-61526607691120249852010-10-28T12:13:00.000-07:002010-10-28T14:07:18.537-07:00Why Can't I Quit You?I'm normally adverse to discussing my relationship issues on my blog. There's either too much drama or too little. Plus talking about my dating life can get tricky; people's feelings get hurt. Some day I will write my memoirs on the topic elsewhere. It'll be called "Sitting to the Left of Awkward." I have a knack for getting myself into awkward situations when it comes to dating. I've come to the conclusion that such situations should be embraced. <div><div><div><div><div><div> </div><div> </div><div>However, there's one relationship that I feel I need to be discussed openly, mostly because until recently it has never gotten awkward. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>This isn't a relationship with a girl. No. This is a much more constant companion. One that gives it all and never takes anything. One that never complains or cancels. One that doesn't fade out when you try and push things to a new level nor freak out when you don't. One that looks good in the morning and great in the evening, with no need of makeup or touching up. One that supports me in my late nights and stands by me when the rest of the world is laughing. I'm speaking, of course, of the Real Thing: Coca-cola. </div><div> </div><div></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 157px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533187662887004226" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnU3QH0KEI/AAAAAAAABS8/b1KAKuxs91M/s400/coke.jpg" /></div><div>Good ole Coke has been with me through thick and thin and never failed to come through when it counted. I have savored it, cherished it, and loved it with all my heart. It has picked me up when I felt down and loved me when I felt lonely. As the following collection shows, it has been with me in literally every corner of the globe. </div><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnRiEDwI5I/AAAAAAAABSM/jVgMlgU6vw8/s1600/To+be+Organized+Mar+22+184.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533184000336602002" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnRiEDwI5I/AAAAAAAABSM/jVgMlgU6vw8/s320/To+be+Organized+Mar+22+184.jpg" /></a><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533179946130279234" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnN2E9pC0I/AAAAAAAABQ0/2OHvUgv7AdE/s320/Picture+287.jpg" /> <div><div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnRhRCk6UI/AAAAAAAABR8/oydf9SOYRRE/s1600/Chad%27s+Pics+476.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533183986641463618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnRhRCk6UI/AAAAAAAABR8/oydf9SOYRRE/s320/Chad%27s+Pics+476.jpg" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnOxzJHzPI/AAAAAAAABRs/PY-D_j_gdqE/s1600/DSCN3404.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533180972138745074" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnOxzJHzPI/AAAAAAAABRs/PY-D_j_gdqE/s320/DSCN3404.JPG" /></a><br /><div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533179960197718402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnN25XlIYI/AAAAAAAABRE/ELrfV8uWexQ/s320/Picture+264.jpg" /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnRhEhvg1I/AAAAAAAABR0/tP5cA9-adOA/s1600/Chad%27s+Pics+304.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533183983282520914" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnRhEhvg1I/AAAAAAAABR0/tP5cA9-adOA/s320/Chad%27s+Pics+304.jpg" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnOxW8KgHI/AAAAAAAABRk/L3TOH5JMepo/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+286.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533180964568203378" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnOxW8KgHI/AAAAAAAABRk/L3TOH5JMepo/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+286.jpg" /></a><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533179938885730434" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnN1p-aAII/AAAAAAAABQs/_CGY3U20jgw/s320/Picture+151.jpg" /> <div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnOw4W4UWI/AAAAAAAABRc/im9faTx1D9M/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+350.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533180956358758754" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnOw4W4UWI/AAAAAAAABRc/im9faTx1D9M/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+350.jpg" /></a><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533179954547240530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnN2kUZrlI/AAAAAAAABQ8/SkPnBPzDuNc/s320/DSCF0279.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div><div>I should be a model for Coke. And no, in no way do I find it pathetic that in all of these pictures it's me and Coke, and not me and "some hot girl with whom I am in a relationship." This is a true love affair that has transcended time and place. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Not that I was addicted. I have taken breaks from Coke and had no noticeable impact on my body. I once stopped drinking soda altogether for 2 months, and kept a six pack of Vanilla Coke under my desk just to prove that I could do it even when it was staring me in the face. I proved two points by doing that: the first being that I could go without, and the second being that the only thing better than an ice cold Coke is an ice cold Coke when you haven't had one in two months. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>However, recently I have had to grips with the fact that this is, literally, an incredibly unhealthy relationship. As I get older my metabolism is slowly turning the dial down. This became painfully obvious about ten months ago when I started receiving a strange question, one that I haven't ever heard in my entire life. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>"Curtis, have you gained weight?" </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>The first three times it was sort of humiliating because it was a question that came from attractive females. Nevertheless I sort of found it a little flattering that they would notice. Then, however, I started having other people ask. Fat people. A real wake up call came when a very large Saudi man with whom I had been working said to me after not seeing me for a week, "Curtis, you are looking fat. You've been in Saudi Arabia too long." <br /><br />All of this was shocking in that I didn't think such comments and questions were allowed. I NEVER ask people if they've put on weight. Taboo. Still, I had to reckon with the fact that it was true. I had in fact put on about 25 pounds in 4 months since I started visiting Saudi Arabia. <div> </div><div>This caused a bit of an existential crisis. How could I leave my beloved Coke without betraying all that I stood for? I might as well renounce my citizenship. It would be like cheating on an old lover. Nevertheless, I had to face the music. I had to confront the fact that with all of these pictures of myself drinking Coke, I might indeed become a Coke advertisement, but not of the kind I had originally wanted to be: </div></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 279px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 222px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533189017033397938" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnWGEteVrI/AAAAAAAABTM/Jqm4Q6NQvfU/s400/CurtisFatSanta1.jpg" /></div><div> </div><div>So I switched. On April 19, 2010 I became a Diet Coke person. </div><div> </div><div>It was traumatic. I couldn't believe it the first time I heard myself order one. People told me condescendingly that things would work out. "Give it a few weeks, Curtis, and you won't ever want to go back to regular Coke." Sort of like when you go through a break up and people spill out cliches about how there's "someone special out there for you" and other fishes in sea (why would I want a fish anyway?). However, they were wrong. I still maintain that the only thing better than a Coke is a Coke when you've been awhile without. </div><div> </div><div>Now perhaps after 6 months it is premature to pass judgment. They say that the time it takes to get over a relationship is half the time that the relationship lasted, which means I won't be able to truly distance myself from Coke until the year 2024. Still, after 6 months I can only say that I have grown accustomed to the Diet drinks, but it is a cold dispassionate relationship in which there is no love. We stay together because I like the cold fizzy feeling it creates in my mouth, but I feel no loyalty, no passion, no excitement in my stomach when I see the logo. I don't even care which Diet drink it is. To me they're all kind of the same. </div><div><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnUAz1RkAI/AAAAAAAABSc/9SCACOqt-r4/s1600/diet-pepsi.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 131px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533186727580110850" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnUAz1RkAI/AAAAAAAABSc/9SCACOqt-r4/s200/diet-pepsi.jpg" /></a> <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnUqSQ6qxI/AAAAAAAABS0/XttUDZR8bj8/s1600/DietCokes.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 96px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533187440123751186" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnUqSQ6qxI/AAAAAAAABS0/XttUDZR8bj8/s200/DietCokes.jpg" /></a></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 125px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533186822248029874" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnUGUf3XrI/AAAAAAAABSk/wKbBNqm8bsM/s200/cokezero.jpg" /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /><p>I mean, they're ok. The one upside is that they are all equally unsatisfying. Diet Coke, Coke Lite, Coke Zero, even Diet Pepsi (I won't touch the regular stuff). But it's like making out with someone you don't care about in an attempt to mend your broken heart. It's sort of fun while it lasts but ultimately leaves you feeling empty with a funky aftertaste in your mouth. </p><p>Truth is, I'm still in love with Coke. Every now and then I go back and pay it a visit. And it's SOOOO good. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 139px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 127px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533187675176960562" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnU395-AjI/AAAAAAAABTE/j-wD64hIgG0/s400/Coke2.jpg" /></p><p>The other night, while up late working, I discovered at the restaurant in my compound in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia, tha tthey serve Coke floats. I had to have one. And yes, ironically, that is a really really fat man in the background of this picture: <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533179935335606466" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TMnN1cv_aMI/AAAAAAAABQk/q3KzUhX5csk/s320/082.JPG" /></p><p>And so I struggle to redefine this new relationship. We can't go back to just being friends. We've progressed way beyond that. And even though I have started a new open relationship with its ugly cousins, my heart still lies with regular Coke. So I must declare it publicly. </p><p>"Coke, I love you. Even though we are sort of divorced, you will always have my heart."</p>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-29715991659437741692010-08-10T08:30:00.000-07:002010-08-10T14:35:30.891-07:00Cooling Off, Dubai Style (Part 2)Oftentimes the best way to escape the heat in Dubai is to just leave. Most people get out of "Dodgebai" (ok it's a stretch but I make it a habit to play with my city's name as much as possible) for at least part of the hot summer, which lasts from end of April to around the middle of October. Usually that means heading to Europe or the States to really actually get out. <div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503895095559090242" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGHDbbPQcEI/AAAAAAAABP0/gRtJGIuT-m0/s400/DSCN2212.JPG" /> <div>Counterintuitively, you can also head south, to southern Oman. There is a slice of the Arabian peninsula which actually gets part of the southwest monsoon which gets India. This creates a rainy season which lasts about 2 months from July to September, which turns everything lush and green. Of course, 30 kilometers inland the rain peters out and it is desert like the rest of the Arabian peninsula. But for the lucky peeps living by the sea, it's the best time of year. We were there in late July, which is fairly early in the green season. By end of August and early September it's probably amazing. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503816052084094210" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF7ifWQtQI/AAAAAAAABOU/19urUurMtfU/s400/DSCN2208.JPG" /></div><div></div><div>For those of you who are Mormon or into Mormon things, you'll also be interested to know that Book of Mormon scholars reckon this might be the "Land of Bountiful" spoken of in 1 Nephi 17. For those of you who aren't Mormon or into Mormon things, there is a story in the beginning of the Book of Mormon about a man named Lehi and his family who leave Jerusalem, travel through the desert for 8 years, then come to a Land of Bountiful on the coast, where they build a boat and sail to a distant "promised land." It was called the Land of Bountiful because it had much fruit. We enjoyed this fruit. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503806816227224434" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGFzI5GY63I/AAAAAAAABM8/hlvU5-IfacE/s400/DSCN3857.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503806824292952082" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGFzJXJaKBI/AAAAAAAABNE/ED94PxnqCwc/s400/DSCN3862.JPG" /></div><div>Here is a sheltered inlet fom the ocean where one scholar speculated that Father Lehi's ship might have set sail from. I don't know how accurate this is and am generally skeptical of such claims to places being "The Place" where something happened. It was 2600 years ago! But it was still a cool place and a good opportunity for some spiritual reflection. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503810322903562706" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF2VAfLedI/AAAAAAAABNc/SmxyB08DoXI/s400/DSCN3910.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503810338048622434" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF2V46Cv2I/AAAAAAAABNs/h60KVS2Ys48/s400/DSCN2150.JPG" /></div><div>We also found some old forts which, according to our guidebook, have no particular signifance. Tim, for some reason, decided that Oman would be a good place to don his green shoes (see my post about Dubai fashion); in combination with his red beard he looked like a giant Aussie leprechaun. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503816059150700530" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF7i5rEj_I/AAAAAAAABOc/BEA-h6R_-4o/s400/DSCN2228.JPG" /></div><div>In any case, what's actually more interesting is what is happening here today. You know there's something wrong when you get excited about going someplace that's damp, rainy, and 40 degrees cooler than your current location. But I was absolutely thrilled to get out of Dubai for the weekend. And I'm not the only one who relished the rain. Despite the fact that it was a misty rain the entire time I was there, everybody seemed to be out. Picknickers everywhere, on the side of the road, on the beach, up the mountains. Just out in their lawn chairs hanging out... in the rain. Unfortunately I didn't get any pictures of the picnics. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503806806937394034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGFzIWfhW3I/AAAAAAAABM0/a2H7AB8X-Ps/s400/DSCN3922.JPG" /></div><div>We did, however, stumble across what turned out to be the party of the year in Oman. It was the 40th anniversary of Sultan Qaboos (the ruler of Oman) to the throne. We noticed they were blocking off the streets so we got out to check out what was going on, next thing we know there's just masses of people marching in a huge parade, waving Omani flags and pictures of the Sultan. </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503810331549557458" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF2Vgsi4tI/AAAAAAAABNk/EZVOPW-Yt4s/s400/DSCN3876.JPG" /></div><div>Men waving swords, chanting and dancing.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503816066407164226" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF7jUtJaUI/AAAAAAAABOk/UuObD39sZnY/s400/DSCN2238.JPG" /></div><div>The women were out in droves too, mostly covered up by the niqab but still singing as cheerily as everyone else. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503824093888769714" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGGC2lZ57rI/AAAAAAAABPc/I_1HxhpZ3oE/s400/DSCN2299.JPG" /></div><div></div><div>One cute part of the parade was a pack of younger girls dressed in red, green, and white (the colors of the flag). Behind them you can see one interesting sign was one with large pink Arabic script that said, "Thank you dear Sultan for your support for the Omani woman and her improvement." <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503820302588997522" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF_Z5tmb5I/AAAAAAAABO8/xXEq_RB3avw/s400/DSCN2292.JPG" /></div><div>It was fun, and we could have made it look quite scary:<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503820305449109810" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF_aEXgSTI/AAAAAAAABPE/EfSor1DcZTs/s400/DSCN2305.JPG" /></div>Fortunately Omanis are super nice and down to earth and a lot of fun to hang out with in the rain. This turned out to be a great day, and we even got some great pictures of ourselves. See if you can play a little "Where's Curtis" in this picture...<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503806836909991410" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGFzKGJi5fI/AAAAAAAABNU/LTk9anWMD0Y/s400/DSCN3888.JPG" /> <div>Tim the giant leprechaun stood out from the crowd a little more. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503820288092173746" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF_ZDtSdbI/AAAAAAAABOs/N-lJ5ODF_bk/s400/DSCN2259.JPG" /></div><div>Below was the best shot of the day I think. You have the two Pakistani men in the foreground holding hands (public displays of affection between men are quite common in this region and are not an indicator of sexual orientation). Then you have the marching Omani patriots and then in the corner, our favorite Australian leprechaun, trying to blend in. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503820295303749570" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF_ZekqX8I/AAAAAAAABO0/Q-LDjM2Y3_U/s400/DSCN2275.JPG" /></div><div>We also made it up into the mountains, where we found some "sink holes," which are deep canyons where sometimes the water will create rivers and waterfalls. Again, we were a bit early in the year for the waterfalls, but was still pretty spectacular. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503886811800837202" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGG75P1YnFI/AAAAAAAABPs/jaN3imkA6S0/s400/DSCN2166.JPG" /> Past the sink holes we got above the clouds and rain, where we both found the end of the greenery, and some pretty cool views. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503816034420043378" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF7hdi0rnI/AAAAAAAABOE/Wd_dVuo4Uhk/s400/DSCN2189.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503895101676730226" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGHDbyB0N3I/AAAAAAAABP8/IN585l5iQgA/s400/DSCN2175.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503816039380867138" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF7hwBk2EI/AAAAAAAABOM/NVftLGO6Vlg/s400/DSCN2194.JPG" /> Maybe cliche, but I thought these were both some cool shots of some local tourist women.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503810353716589266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF2WzRk8tI/AAAAAAAABN8/rgTPN1zjkUw/s400/DSCN2172.JPG" /> Our final spot on our little trip was the Mughsayl blow hole, where the waves come in and crash into the rocky shore, which is very porous and so you have these random holes where the water will come crashing in and shoot up, geyser like, with each crashing wave. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503820314467671986" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TGF_al9sn7I/AAAAAAAABPM/-xir1cjQCYs/s400/DSCN2356.JPG" /> <div>The biggest one shoots up to 100 feet in the air. I got a video of some of the smaller ones to give a better sense of how it works. The best geysers are at the end of the video...<br /><br /></div><p align="center"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzImFQu1Za66c6k7_vXrWChhXss5XPjhFXWn1-zr1gjRUhcxEVfwT9Sh-nFdx-9Vd5b7AzWOiyRpXkXSKL8ow' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></p><br /><br /><div></div></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-44734664227411768412010-08-03T14:14:00.000-07:002010-08-04T04:10:15.015-07:00Cooling Off, Dubai Style (Part 1)<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501315626306185234" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFiZajdJKBI/AAAAAAAABKE/GuvrDgR0Cb0/s400/DSCN2130.JPG" /><br /><div>So summer temperatures in the Persian/Arab Gulf region are regularly in mid-40s Celsius (~110 Fahrenheit), and sometimes jump up to the high forties (approaching 120). Back in June, after a visit to the US, I landed and the pilot announced that the outside temperature was 117 degrees Fahrenheit. It varies from place to place, but is usually inversely correlated to the humidity. Dubai is slightly cooler than inland Saudi Arabia, for example, but the humidity makes it worse. I have heard that southern Iraq and Kuwait are the worst because they're both humid and super hot. </div><div> </div><div>The Gulf water itself reaches temperatures above 90 degrees so going to the beach and jumping in the water doesn't offer much relief. However, Dubai has in its ridiculous manner developed a solution: Snow. After all, snow can't heat up or it turns to water. So when things get too hot here, we just hit the ski slopes at the local Mall of the Emirates. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501503594261521410" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFlEXup-JAI/AAAAAAAABMc/2bNYAouvOH0/s320/skidubai_800x600.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501508629686192770" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFlI81ExCoI/AAAAAAAABMs/MaLSgyT4Hok/s320/DSCN2137.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501494501784273650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFk8GeidwvI/AAAAAAAABMU/S44UYFuNmZs/s320/DSCN2136.JPG" /></div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501503594900345202" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFlEXxCR0XI/AAAAAAAABMk/QTpZKCPKs9w/s320/view-of-ski-dubai-in-mall-of-emirates.jpg" />I recruited my friend Tim and we hit up the slopes so that I could fulfill my lifelong dream of learning to snowboard in July. (OK it's only been my dream for the last couple of months). It was strange putting on my running tights and long sleeved rowing shirt when it was 117 degrees outside! SkiDubai is, by actual ski slope standards, pretty small (think Chickadee at Snowbird then shrink it to a tenth of that size). However, it's indoors so it's an amazing hill. The entire thing is kept a few degrees below freezing all the time, and at night artificial snow is added to keep it snow friendly. Your lift ticket (around $50) includes the snowboard / ski rental, along with boots, snow pants, and parka. They also have a glove and hat store. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501494476521582322" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFk8FAbXrvI/AAAAAAAABME/P9lFjxgOMnY/s320/DSCN2116.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501494471793531554" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFk8Eu0HWqI/AAAAAAAABL8/fEG2deAxNCA/s320/DSCN2115.JPG" /></div><div></div><div>Now I've been skiing my entire life, and grew up in a house in Utah that was less than 30 minutes from about 7 different world class ski resorts, so even for the 2 hour ticket I was bound to get bored. However, in spite of always wanting to give it a try, <strong><em>I have never been snowboarding. </em></strong>Every time I've had the opportunity to try it in Utah I have always figured that I didn't want to waste a good ski day to learn to snowboard. So, ironically, I tried it out for the first time in the hot July desert heat. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501315619246798194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFiZaJKDdXI/AAAAAAAABJ8/ZBm2VcoIDLY/s400/DSCN2119.JPG" /></div><div></div><div>Needless to say I thought this would be fairly easy. I have been wakeboarding before. I'm not used to feeling like I'm completely and utterly uncoordinated, but this was one case. The first attempt down the mountain was one constant FAIL, sometimes on my keyster and sometimes on my face. This, of course, was much to the amusement of the other 100 or so people in the facility. Unlike most ski resorts, where you can find someplace fairly isolated and away from the lift, at SkiDubai the whole hill is right under the lift, so you always have lots of witnesses to your falls to provide encouragement and / or mockery. At one point after a nice faceplant I looked up and saw between my snow-frosted eyelashes that the source of one particularly loud outburst of laughter was coming from four pre-teen Arab girls on the lift. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501315640801901474" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFiZbZdMO6I/AAAAAAAABKU/_XE9a1pktmI/s400/DSCN2141.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501315629673910578" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFiZawAEkTI/AAAAAAAABKM/aujcXr9fBqs/s400/DSCN2125.JPG" /> <div></div><div>As if being a Utah boy learning to snowboard in Dubai wasn't ironic enough, being a Utah boy getting made fun of by some 12 year old girls in hijabs for not knowing how to snowboard took the irony to a whole new level. These girls weren't even there to ski OR snowboard! They were there to experience the novelty of snow, and never got off the lift!</div><div> </div><div> I felt so good about myself. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501330625977345714" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFinDplbZrI/AAAAAAAABLU/Bu0B5ZCLr-8/s400/DSCN2127.JPG" />We had part of this run on video but it was too large to upload. Thanks to Tim for taking the pictures and providing me with some good coaching. Each run I gradually improved, and by the end of my 2 hour session could actually make it down the mountain without falling, though that was if I stuck to a "falling leaf" pattern on the heelside of the board. Toeside was a different story, as it usually ended in a faceplant, but towards the end I made a couple of toeside turns before running out of time. All in all though, I claim victory.<br /><div></div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501330617741543810" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/TFinDK53CYI/AAAAAAAABLM/dP_xrDxLodE/s400/DSCN2133.JPG" />Perhaps the best part about skiing in the mall is that you don't have to deal with ski traffic when you leave. In fact, you just return your rented gear and walk back out to the food court and get TGIF or Chilis or whatever other you might get a hankering for. We ate, then marched across the hall to the cinema to see Inception. I wonder if this entire place is just one big dream and Leonardo DiCaprio is using it to steal something from my mind...CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-1906158595119800842010-05-12T03:54:00.000-07:002010-05-17T11:55:08.309-07:00On Molestaches, Bed-Beard, and Saloons<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S_GBET3UYqI/AAAAAAAABH0/5Y9w9IxUbjg/s1600/Bashar.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472296933283619490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S_GBET3UYqI/AAAAAAAABH0/5Y9w9IxUbjg/s400/Bashar.jpg" border="0" /></a>Periodically throughout the Middle East you see the posters of the leaders. In some places, like Syria, they're EVERYWHERE. At first it's kind of eerie, but after awhile, you start to become somewhat attached. During my month in Syria back in 2007, Mr. Bashar al Asad became like a father figure, a reassuring presence. You even want to emulate them. Not by becoming a mildly paranoid dictator, but through their style. I briefly flirted with copying the Syriastache:<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S_GCc_E3F7I/AAAAAAAABIU/SgMDtg6DkkA/s1600/Bashar3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472298456711632818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 265px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 315px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S_GCc_E3F7I/AAAAAAAABIU/SgMDtg6DkkA/s400/Bashar3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S_GCHYVAsFI/AAAAAAAABIM/H7EJBCmH8FA/s1600/moustache+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472298085533134930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S_GCHYVAsFI/AAAAAAAABIM/H7EJBCmH8FA/s400/moustache+004.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Maybe it's the blondness, but I didn't think the molestache works on me. Of course, now I'm in Dubai, there's a different breed of leaders whose pictures adorn the freeway billboards. Here what's fashionable isn't molestaches but beards. Manly DuBeards like that worn by Sheikh Mohammed, or "Sheikh Mo" as we respectfully like to refer to our fearless leader.<br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qcqlbiqzI/AAAAAAAABHc/UhzqQ_9UeDU/s1600/Dubai+2+006.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470356952810957618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qcqlbiqzI/AAAAAAAABHc/UhzqQ_9UeDU/s400/Dubai+2+006.jpg" border="0" /></a> Now I had never in my 28 years successfuly grown a full beard. I had pulled off the goatee and the Fu Man Chu "Trucker-stache," but never the full beard. But I wanted to give it a try. At first, I think I did okay:<br /><div><div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qSgteXCcI/AAAAAAAABHE/tiuiLRyVhxc/s1600/To+be+Organized+Apr+16+005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470345788055292354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qSgteXCcI/AAAAAAAABHE/tiuiLRyVhxc/s400/To+be+Organized+Apr+16+005.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qSgOv5jCI/AAAAAAAABG8/Thec2XTDQ8E/s1600/Abu+Dhabi+Mosque.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470345779807357986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qSgOv5jCI/AAAAAAAABG8/Thec2XTDQ8E/s400/Abu+Dhabi+Mosque.jpg" border="0" /></a>Not bad, especially with magic aviator glasses which make anybody look cool. Cops pull over for ME when I put them on.<br /></div><div></div><div></div><div>Now eventually beards outgrow themselves. However, having one is like being in a relationship which you know is not good for you. The longer you're in, the worse it gets, but the harder it is to emotionally let yourself get out. In your head you know you should cut the rope, but you can't bear to actually do it. The beard starts getting curly and gross, but you've put so much in and you keep hoping you can work something out!</div><br /><div>Until one morning you wake up and look in the mirror and are so shocked by what you see that it spurs you to action. I didn't know one could get "bed-beard!" <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470345796173874674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qShLt-xfI/AAAAAAAABHM/M7mwiJe2moE/s400/To+be+Organized+May+5+Flat+Stanley+%26+such+020.jpg" border="0" />Maybe not as creepy as the "molestache" but still pretty bad. </div><br /><div>Fortunately, I'm in Dude-bai, which is full of "Saloons" where you can go to get your (facial) hair done.</div><div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qPi04Pv0I/AAAAAAAABG0/_-m5q1Wy3Nw/s1600/2457066-A_barber_saloon_in_Karama_Dubai-Dubai.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470342525867769666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 301px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qPi04Pv0I/AAAAAAAABG0/_-m5q1Wy3Nw/s400/2457066-A_barber_saloon_in_Karama_Dubai-Dubai.jpg" border="0" /></a> Now "saloons" in Dude-bai are not the seedy establishments of the Wild West where you can get in a shoot out and drink whiskey. No, these are places of high fashion, places that manage to combine tackiness and style in a way that the city excels. You can't help but be drawn in:<br /><div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470337358582651810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qK2DPeG6I/AAAAAAAABGU/Kc-ZFhn0lA8/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+030.jpg" border="0" /> Of course the men's is wide open but the women's is covered. Anywhere else if you saw a "Ladies Saloon" with opaque windows you'd assume it a place of ill repute, but I actually think that the "Instyle Modern Ladies Saloon" is actually quality establishment to get one's hair done.<br /></div><br /><div>Let's just take a moment and admire the fine models they get to advertise these places.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470337344755752706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qK1Pu4XwI/AAAAAAAABGE/lqpM-Bjszao/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+027.jpg" border="0" /> Cuz you know the ladies want to get a haircut where they can't see through the hair. Let's get a close up on that bombshell, who vaguely resembles a brunette Lady Gaga. </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470337943456914930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qLYGEXHfI/AAAAAAAABGk/Pyukphzoa4c/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+028.jpg" border="0" /></div><p>Of course what I was interested in was not the women's hairstyles, I wanted to look like a man. Like this guy preferably, because who doesn't miss Zack from "Saved by the Bell?"<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472310640929203602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S_GNiM0s5ZI/AAAAAAAABJc/ua0eHMg0E24/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+023.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470337362906284674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qK2TWTgoI/AAAAAAAABGc/YgLQibnnkEo/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+026.jpg" border="0" />Who knew that Zack Morris from Saved by the Bell had a doppleganger? This is awesome. Zack Morris, is, after all, a superhero. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470341642809276162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qOvbOsdwI/AAAAAAAABGs/sKZMvE3wUaI/s400/superzack.jpg" border="0" /></p></div></div><p></p><p></p><p>Of course, that would mean I'd have to grow my hair out, and we all know how that worked out circa 2001: <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472305318987196770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S_GIsbC2aWI/AAAAAAAABJM/M1COSFl0woA/s400/WaltzShmaltz.jpg" border="0" /></p><p></p><p>No I didn't have time to go for the Zack look, but fortunately, at the bottom of my building, is the "Hair Fiesta." What better way to honor Cinco de Mayo?<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470345804355809442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qShqMtMKI/AAAAAAAABHU/zI-4PBejTUk/s400/To+be+Organized+May+5+Flat+Stanley+%26+such+028.jpg" border="0" />Fiesta indeed. Shaving's never been so fun and smooth as with a for reals straight blade razor.</p><p></p><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qiHdPU2GI/AAAAAAAABHs/_APZ8ZOrGTQ/s1600/To+be+Organized+May+5+Flat+Stanley+%26+such+092.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470362946386581602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qiHdPU2GI/AAAAAAAABHs/_APZ8ZOrGTQ/s400/To+be+Organized+May+5+Flat+Stanley+%26+such+092.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qg6vRdblI/AAAAAAAABHk/5-DcN9OVTJ4/s1600/To+be+Organized+May+5+Flat+Stanley+%26+such+090.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470361628377443922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S-qg6vRdblI/AAAAAAAABHk/5-DcN9OVTJ4/s400/To+be+Organized+May+5+Flat+Stanley+%26+such+090.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>So what's next? No Asad Syriastache and no Sheikh Mo DuBeard. Perhaps instead of the Sheikh, perhaps I should go with the "Chic" photos that adorn the major roads in Dubai. Crown Prince Hamdan, perhaps, the heartthrob of all Emirati ladies?<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472307379904153586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 311px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 309px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S_GKkYjvh_I/AAAAAAAABJU/3ocmjiz4d_0/s400/sh-hamdan.jpg" border="0" /></p></div></div></div></div></div><br /><br /><br /><br />Sigh...CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-51113126331574223912010-03-30T13:13:00.000-07:002010-03-31T05:06:26.185-07:00Curtis Goes Fashionista<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Nobody has ever accused me of being overly fashion conscious. I mean, I hardly remember clothes. My mom gave me the same button down shirt three Christmases in a row because I kept leaving it my closet, unworn. Not that I didn't like the shirt, it's just that clothes don't occupy a very large spot in my brain.
<br />
<br /></span><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">However, just because I’m not into fashion generally speaking doesn’t mean that I don’t recognize AMAZING fashion sense when I see it. And Dubai is full of it. Just take this chap: neon yellow shoes with matching neon yellow shirt. I won’t even comment on the fact that he has a hoodie vest with fur lining on it, the matching yellow is enough to make me want to stand up and clap.
<br /></span><p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454524388548459106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JdCDYiumI/AAAAAAAABC8/bg2H_-CIdzI/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+012.jpg" border="0" /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">I mean, this is beyond stylish. This isn’t tacky, it’s “OMG is he serious or joking? Cuz I hope he is serious!” However, Mr. Yellow Faux Fur was one upped by the Bumblebee Twins with their matching neon yellow pants AND shoes. Twinners, just on a little man date, rockin’ out in skinny yellow jeans at the Mall of the Emirates. </span></p><p>
<br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"></span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454524383251542978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JdBvpqM8I/AAAAAAAABC0/O4RsYBN6DMU/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+018.jpg" border="0" /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Yellow is apparently in style here. Even some of the robes come in it:</span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454524397684607298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JdClaxSUI/AAAAAAAABDE/DhVBKgrVly8/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+013.jpg" border="0" /></span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Then, of course, there was The Man with Golden Pants and Golden Shirt and Golden Shoes and <em>GOLDEN MULLET</em>. That thing is Pure Money. You stud, with your yellow everything and your posse of women. </span></p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454549263781994290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7Jzp-2YHzI/AAAAAAAABF0/xAtAdk8IiUc/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+236.jpg" border="0" /> </span><p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Of coures, it's not just yellow. It's anything colorful. This mulletman went with all white, except for the lime green shoes. I applaud him. </span></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454524408573483746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JdDN-4WuI/AAAAAAAABDM/xqfZBXb9hxw/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+017.jpg" border="0" />However, nothing compared to the breathtaking trifecta of matching shirt/shoe combos : a trifecta of matching shirt/shoe combos, Pink, Purple, Blue. </span></p><p>
<br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7J1nktnePI/AAAAAAAABF8/Eyxfd0ti7a8/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+014.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454551421429446898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7J1nktnePI/AAAAAAAABF8/Eyxfd0ti7a8/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+014.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JesfRN6KI/AAAAAAAABDk/OQ-LKkovfD0/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+016.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454526217100060834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JesfRN6KI/AAAAAAAABDk/OQ-LKkovfD0/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+016.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454525454759716466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JeAHVHZnI/AAAAAAAABDc/Lgycqp3PDKE/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+015.jpg" border="0" />Inspired. All of these, with the exception of the Golden Mullet, were captured in about a five minute span at the Mall of the Emirates. I felt like I was witnessing a fashion revolution. But where do they get these clothes? Recently I found it: a ghettofabulous market-place-cum-shopping center called Karama. It specializes in being cheap, tacky, and good for a laugh. It is a place where East meets West to produce some bizarre twists on globalization. All the stores, for example, are named after Western cities:</span></p><p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JzKPx-oUI/AAAAAAAABFk/KnibF2eBnws/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+178.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454548718571135298" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JzKPx-oUI/AAAAAAAABFk/KnibF2eBnws/s200/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+178.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"> </span><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JzJ_3fZTI/AAAAAAAABFc/OvYihvPnGpw/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+170.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454548714299286834" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JzJ_3fZTI/AAAAAAAABFc/OvYihvPnGpw/s200/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+170.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JvjcjaoZI/AAAAAAAABE0/ac7cF_wjPjw/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+169.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454544753449935250" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JvjcjaoZI/AAAAAAAABE0/ac7cF_wjPjw/s200/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+169.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JvjDNn_TI/AAAAAAAABEs/7rMvQvL-n18/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+168.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454544746647649586" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JvjDNn_TI/AAAAAAAABEs/7rMvQvL-n18/s200/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+168.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JviuqUEKI/AAAAAAAABEk/e-dloEH5JQc/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+164.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454544741130834082" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JviuqUEKI/AAAAAAAABEk/e-dloEH5JQc/s200/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+164.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JvhwcaSwI/AAAAAAAABEc/8cV9PV9wvL4/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+167.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454544724429523714" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JvhwcaSwI/AAAAAAAABEc/8cV9PV9wvL4/s200/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+167.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JvhSFNt2I/AAAAAAAABEU/jTlJT7vFI5Y/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+163.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454544716279166818" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JvhSFNt2I/AAAAAAAABEU/jTlJT7vFI5Y/s200/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+163.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">
<br />Among the various treasures to be found in this amazing place are “Tough” handbags, Super Mario boxers, and vintage NBA jerseys from the 1990s:</span></p><p><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JxcvckGdI/AAAAAAAABFU/QNu6rjaXLtk/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+166.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454546837285640658" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JxcvckGdI/AAAAAAAABFU/QNu6rjaXLtk/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+166.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JxcEJ9pPI/AAAAAAAABFM/VidSPLI0U8Y/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+182.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454546825664898290" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JxcEJ9pPI/AAAAAAAABFM/VidSPLI0U8Y/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+182.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7Jxbk0gF_I/AAAAAAAABFE/hddHWIOnSwQ/s1600/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+171.jpg"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454546817253382130" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7Jxbk0gF_I/AAAAAAAABFE/hddHWIOnSwQ/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+171.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></p><p><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">Good to see Scottie Pippen lives on. My favorite, however, was the Obama Buckle. Who says Arabs hate America?:</span></p><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454545463345005122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JwMxHlwkI/AAAAAAAABE8/PxG3c7wScM4/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+159.jpg" border="0" />Here, in this treasure trove, I found what I was a looking for. A veritable carnival of chromatic cornucopia. The colorful shoes:
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454528313383278354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JgmgiFVxI/AAAAAAAABEE/lqTBDprZfws/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+160.jpg" border="0" />The colorful pants: <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454528318352303234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JgmzCypII/AAAAAAAABEM/O99381dkH-g/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+176.jpg" border="0" />Of course, I soon discovered that the lure of the skinny yellow jeans went way beyond the aesthetic appeal. Read the label: <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454528285982827010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7Jgk6dTogI/AAAAAAAABDs/87bCQkKWU0s/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+173.jpg" border="0" />“The Original Military First Men’s Jeans: Brand Good Feeling Let’s Have a Good Workout Super Design FM” </span></div><div>
<br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">I mean, who can resist here? There’s something in that for every one: Design, Comfort, Working Out, implied Military strength durability. </span></div><div>
<br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;">I was hooked. Rarely do I feel the shopaholic compulsion to buy something where I feel like I have no choice, but this was once occasion. Then, of course, I had to complete the outfit, so I bought matching purple pants and purple shoes. Then I sat back and let the Original Military First Men’s Jeans work their magic.
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454528294718512786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JglbADnpI/AAAAAAAABD0/zBBgFdiipfE/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+149.jpg" border="0" />It didn't take long.
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454528306700074562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S7JgmHorvkI/AAAAAAAABD8/lZVfuc-SRQY/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+151.jpg" border="0" />Booyah! Who’s got a Brand Good Feeling now? </span></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>
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<br />CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-77285521936306311852010-02-02T11:19:00.000-08:002010-02-02T13:16:00.426-08:00Rwanda Rweekend<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iPKlBX5oI/AAAAAAAABAc/DRTJJCYZLKo/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+449.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433750362321839746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iPKlBX5oI/AAAAAAAABAc/DRTJJCYZLKo/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+449.jpg" border="0" /></a> I know some of you felt sorry for me after my post last week, but rest assured, my life is pretty sweet. Exhibit A: What I did over the weekend on January 29-30, 2010. I only have 3 things to say about it: <div><div><div>1. Tracking wild gorillas in the mountains of Rwanda is <em>INCREDIBLE</em><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>2. Baby gorillas are really cute while 800 pound Don Corleone Daddy Gorilla is freakin huge</div><div>3. To my mother: sorry I didn't tell you that I was going to do this, I didn't want you to worry and I only decided to go a few days before</div><div> </div><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iQ30pBV7I/AAAAAAAABAk/BcwNlSxuEh4/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+286.jpg"></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iODiTnfpI/AAAAAAAABAM/JEIXPv6SzqM/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+281.jpg"></a></div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iUJqMbe8I/AAAAAAAABA0/8Im6b-Tx9BM/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+281.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433755844088658882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iUJqMbe8I/AAAAAAAABA0/8Im6b-Tx9BM/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+281.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iU-mXcqGI/AAAAAAAABA8/SD93j76k88s/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+286.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433756753594198114" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iU-mXcqGI/AAAAAAAABA8/SD93j76k88s/s320/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+286.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_jiFESRI/AAAAAAAAA9c/opnnaWt3Q_Q/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+424.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433733198842710290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_jiFESRI/AAAAAAAAA9c/opnnaWt3Q_Q/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+424.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iCVm6MhUI/AAAAAAAAA-M/YThIENDahxc/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+375.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433736258156004674" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iCVm6MhUI/AAAAAAAAA-M/YThIENDahxc/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+375.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h-Cle9BOI/AAAAAAAAA9E/yEtU4ZpRO_I/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+350.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433731533309281506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h-Cle9BOI/AAAAAAAAA9E/yEtU4ZpRO_I/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+350.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iGYdJadbI/AAAAAAAAA-k/QiwDgQczhX4/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+304.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433740705121596850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iGYdJadbI/AAAAAAAAA-k/QiwDgQczhX4/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+304.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><div><div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iCVVm7iLI/AAAAAAAAA-E/v5XiIWosXWM/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+378.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433736253511796914" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iCVVm7iLI/AAAAAAAAA-E/v5XiIWosXWM/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+378.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_jDhWohI/AAAAAAAAA9U/D-IbdA0RdMA/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+477.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433733190639854098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_jDhWohI/AAAAAAAAA9U/D-IbdA0RdMA/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+477.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iCU_cF3SI/AAAAAAAAA98/MbiH3zUnLyM/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+419.jpg"></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h-CKtQnPI/AAAAAAAAA88/N2DLQHB5oNM/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+311.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433731526121528562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h-CKtQnPI/AAAAAAAAA88/N2DLQHB5oNM/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+311.jpg" border="0" /></a><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433729724042069810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h8ZRcCRzI/AAAAAAAAA8M/oRIIMPS-hmI/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+391.jpg" border="0" /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_kvUcUrI/AAAAAAAAA90/MZ79FF8DNNU/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+400.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433733219576730290" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_kvUcUrI/AAAAAAAAA90/MZ79FF8DNNU/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+400.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_kR34nsI/AAAAAAAAA9s/N4DYVX3ecHM/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+457.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433733211672321730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_kR34nsI/AAAAAAAAA9s/N4DYVX3ecHM/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+457.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_j5IWdiI/AAAAAAAAA9k/pN1gydl-9u4/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+448.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433733205030499874" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h_j5IWdiI/AAAAAAAAA9k/pN1gydl-9u4/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+448.jpg" border="0" /></a> <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iCWSR0BBI/AAAAAAAAA-c/UHBee-4LvMM/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+417.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433736269797786642" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iCWSR0BBI/AAAAAAAAA-c/UHBee-4LvMM/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+417.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iCV5FtzPI/AAAAAAAAA-U/q9SiBb2C4TQ/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+460.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433736263036161266" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iCV5FtzPI/AAAAAAAAA-U/q9SiBb2C4TQ/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+460.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433729737033940386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h8aB1ifaI/AAAAAAAAA8c/3dXV3tdrLHY/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+412.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433742329430371618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iH3AKzbSI/AAAAAAAAA-0/IVA1F6DJ69c/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+430.jpg" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433742335890262290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2iH3YO9iRI/AAAAAAAAA-8/SfGqaF-jnfg/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+422.jpg" border="0" /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h8amdYJMI/AAAAAAAAA8k/kCKh62k13fI/s1600-h/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+467.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433729746864710850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S2h8amdYJMI/AAAAAAAAA8k/kCKh62k13fI/s400/To+be+Organized+Feb+1+467.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-48553912032524009632010-01-24T23:00:00.000-08:002010-01-25T16:12:40.335-08:00Dude-bai<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430824718383901986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14qTsCu7SI/AAAAAAAAA78/GnvoJu9um3A/s320/indian-restaurant-bur-dubai.jpg" border="0" />So I knew coming out here that Dubai would be a bad move for my dating life. I checked out gender ratios on the CIA Factbook to discover that the male-female ratio of people between the ages of 15-64 in the UAE is 2.74. Meaning that there are almost <em><u>3 guys for every girl</u></em> in the country. Further research revealed an even darker picture, as I discovered that the next highest countries on the list were Qatar (2.46), Kuwait (1.78), the Maldives (1.62), Oman (1.38), Bahrain (1.34), and Saudi Arabia (1.29). Meaning that not only does my new country have no girls, but neither does any of its neighbors.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div></div><div></div><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14ScptKAVI/AAAAAAAAA5M/WcBTzDFxJ20/s1600-h/Dubai-Laborers.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430798484096287058" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 175px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14ScptKAVI/AAAAAAAAA5M/WcBTzDFxJ20/s200/Dubai-Laborers.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div><div><div>The reason for this is that these countries import a lot of laborers from various South Asian countries to do all the blue collar jobs, but don't want the workers to actually settle so they don't let them bring their families. So if Pakistani construction workers is your target dating demographic, you're in business. If your target dating demographic is, well, female, then the odds are stacked against you.<br /></div><br /><div><br />I thought I had mentally prepared myself for this. After all, it was an adventure, and I have spent most of my 28 years being fairly content with my single dude status. Plus, gender ratios aren't necessarily a good or bad sign of somplace being a great place to move to: 2 of the top 3 countries with the <em>most favorable ratios</em> for men are Zimbabwe (0.81) and Chad (0.85), not exactly paradisiacal locations to cruise for chicks. </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><br /><div>However, I underestimated the strange behavioral difference it would make in me to not have a <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14dDs5wVdI/AAAAAAAAA6c/b_gumc7LD9o/s1600-h/young-britney-spears.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430810150085613010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14dDs5wVdI/AAAAAAAAA6c/b_gumc7LD9o/s200/young-britney-spears.jpg" border="0" /></a>proper gender balance. Not having girls around you start doing strange things. After about a month in Dubai I found myself on ITunes doing something I thought I would never do: <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/Sy8mfhA5wBI/AAAAAAAAA40/Q5xUz6gK2Ys/s1600-h/young-britney-spears.jpg"></a>downloading Britney Spears. At first just a few songs, then when I saw that I could have all 17 songs to complete her Greatest Hits album for only an additional $4.44, I went ahead. Then in a flurry of activity, I started downloading Katy Perry, Lady Gaga, Rihanna. In the space of about 15 minutes I ended up spending around $40 on songs that I think were written with a target audience of 15 year old girls. </div><br /><div>Not that this was entirely unprecedented in my life: I have previously admitted on my blog to listening to Madonna's "<a href="http://curtcannon.blogspot.com/2007/08/running-in-cairos-pavement-jungle.html">Material Girl</a>" and the disco classic "<a href="http://curtcannon.blogspot.com/2007/12/what-you-need-to-run-100km-on.html">It's Raining Men</a>" (click on the titles to go to confessions). In high school I may or may not have purchased a Spice Girls T-shirt and may or may not have stolen leotards from the dance team for my Halloween costume. But those things were done in a perhaps misguided attempt to get laughs. When I made the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGA07Zb9kNw">Backstreet Boys spoof </a>video it was entirely tongue in cheek: I didn't actually start listening to the band with any regularity. I never actively sought out or bought any Madonna music, it came on a compilation album. But this time, I'm not into Britney Spears to be funny, I'm into it for reals. </div><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14lFerZoiI/AAAAAAAAA7s/XJImEITImSU/s1600-h/Dudes+holding+hands.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430818976720069154" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 235px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14lFerZoiI/AAAAAAAAA7s/XJImEITImSU/s320/Dudes+holding+hands.jpg" border="0" /></a>All of this has prompted a lot of soul searching. One day, while at the gym on the rowing machine with "P-p-p-pokerface" pulsing in my ears while at the same time falling in love with Sarah Bareilles whose "<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qi7Yh16dA0w">Lovesong</a>" was playing on the television on mute, I started to wonde<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14gOxMI7SI/AAAAAAAAA7M/OiOrhj8bO60/s1600-h/Dudes+holding+hands.jpg"></a>r if the <a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14ZME6uZNI/AAAAAAAAA5U/bOGqz5ZQKys/s1600-h/Dudes+holding+hands.jpg"></a>Middle East was <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14dmHxTT5I/AAAAAAAAA6k/44XpmBfD-Lo/s1600-h/lady-gaga-bubble-dress.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430810741413466002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14dmHxTT5I/AAAAAAAAA6k/44XpmBfD-Lo/s200/lady-gaga-bubble-dress.jpg" border="0" /></a>really messing me up. After all, gender relations are notoriously complicated or backward, depending upon your perspective. Your "gay-dar" can really get thrown off: men hold hands and it's not a sign of anything other than friendship. It was in Egypt that I started reading the "Modern Love" column in the New York Times and dropped my "must be with a cute girl" rule for watching romantic comedies. Could it be that I am compensating for the shortage of female contact? Am I trying to create a 1 to 1 gender ratio within myself? </div><br /><div>I don't really have any answers, nor am I getting better. I now have Lady Gaga on three different playlists for my Ipod. Last month, however, I reached a new low. The Dubai International Film Festival was in town: dozens of international films playing, a chance to get cultured. Instead, I went with my [male] roommate to see "Twilight: New Moon." It was the only movie playing after 11 PM, so when I finished my work at 10:55 I literally raced sprinted to get there to make it on time. <em>I pushed my taxi driver to drive recklessly so that I </em><em>could make my man-date to see the biggest chick flick ever made. </em></div><div><em></em></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14hle0i41I/AAAAAAAAA7k/1Sh-9xb9l3c/s1600-h/newmoon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430815128467727186" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 141px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14hle0i41I/AAAAAAAAA7k/1Sh-9xb9l3c/s200/newmoon.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14uViV-mzI/AAAAAAAAA8E/Zy-Cwyqv1xw/s1600-h/robert-pattinson-edward-twilight-kiss.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430829148186516274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 140px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14uViV-mzI/AAAAAAAAA8E/Zy-Cwyqv1xw/s200/robert-pattinson-edward-twilight-kiss.jpg" border="0" /></a>As I came in to the theaterI told my roommate: "I hope you'll be flattered to know that going to see Twilight with you may be the gayest thing I have ever done." Then it occurred to me that we may have actually had a stroke of genius. I mean, could there possibly be a better place to meet girls? Based upon the descriptions I had read, the movie theaters everywhere else in the world were packed with young, attractive, single, lonely women. This is the crowd that reads Twilight, and aside from the confused looking woman at the front it looks like my target demographic: </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><div><div><div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430812673265499394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14fWket_QI/AAAAAAAAA60/nNZtcaSroFE/s320/8-19-09-twilight-crowd.jpg" border="0" /></div><div>Yet it was not to be. With a mixture of amusement and disappointment I ended up sharing a row with my roommate and three Egyptian men. Only in Dude-bai can you go to see Twilight and have there be more men than women in the theater. Go Team Khalifah. </div><br /><p align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14amNiNCeI/AAAAAAAAA50/tAyHE83Dx0A/s1600-h/Pakistanidudes.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430807444425869794" style="WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/S14amNiNCeI/AAAAAAAAA50/tAyHE83Dx0A/s400/Pakistanidudes.bmp" border="0" /></a></p></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-16431437190535776092009-10-04T22:24:00.000-07:002009-10-05T09:13:00.871-07:00Litter-Free PropagandaGrowing up in the States I was exposed at a young age to clever trash-free slogans like "leave nature cleaner than you found it." And man did this propaganda ever work. When I came to Cairo in 2007 I found myself paralyzed by the trash disposal system there, which is that you throw your garbage into the street. Unable to throw my food scraps or plastic bags, I would carry my trash in my hands for HOURS, just out of habit, thinking that maybe a garbage can would appear like some shimmering mirage in the desert. Inevitably some well-meaning merchant would take the trash off my hands, only to chuck it into the traffic-clogged street. I never got used to it.<br /><br />That was before the swine flu panic. Continuing its long tradition of genius policymaking, the Egyptian government prepared for the worst. Only two people have died from H1N1, but one province has actually <em>picked out locations for mass human graves</em> in case the pandemic reaches Pharaonic plague proportions. The national government has tried to stem the oncoming calamity by slaughtering all 300,000 of the country's pigs.<br /><br />Of course, the pigs were crucial for the garbage pickers, a small community of Christians who collect trash from off the streets (I think I paid around 90 cents a month for their daily doorstep services). Now that they are dead, they have no way of disposing with food waste, so they have stopped collecting it, and only pick up inorganic waste.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/20/world/africa/20cairo.html">http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/20/world/africa/20cairo.html</a><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388881015165820626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 249px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/Sskmu1XOHtI/AAAAAAAAA2o/0afGQ8YAdzY/s400/20pigs2_600.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p>Now nobody has ever visited Cairo and come away awestruck at its cleanliness, but there might soon be some new Pyramids. The goats just aren't cuttin' the mustard. </p><p>Dubai, to my knowledge, doesn't have pigs to eat its food trash. It does, however, have effective anti-litter propaganda.<br /><br />Take, for example, this amazing sticker which I found on my window when I moved in: </p><p align="left"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/Ssk5MCd7nnI/AAAAAAAAA3o/hKQMmUMRpEE/s1600-h/Dubai+2+133.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388901308109135474" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/Ssk5MCd7nnI/AAAAAAAAA3o/hKQMmUMRpEE/s400/Dubai+2+133.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/Ssk5tT-GMoI/AAAAAAAAA3w/dWritkj3e2M/s1600-h/Dubai+2+132.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388901879743132290" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/Ssk5tT-GMoI/AAAAAAAAA3w/dWritkj3e2M/s400/Dubai+2+132.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></p><br />It's non-removeable, as if I would ever want to peel off such a masterpiece of contemporary art. At first I thought the intended message was:<br /><br />VEILED LADIES, DO NOT THROW YOUR PURSES AT THE CREEPY LOOKING MAN BELOW WHO LOOKS LIKE HE IS TRYING TO STEAL SOMETHING.<br /><br />However, if you look closely you can see the writing on the window: DO NOT LITTER.<br /><p>Now I will admit, in spite of the puritanical litter-free-ness so deeply engrained in me, I do occasionally get a hankerin' to get wild and crazy and chuck my trash out my 28th floor window just to watch it fall. My inner mischief maker is dying to gleefully launch banana peels into the swimming pool or nail some unsuspecting sunbather with my empty milk cartons. Fortunately this sign is there to dissuade me, and dissuade me it does, a modern day eleventh commandment etched on my window and my heart. </p><p>Well played, Dubai. Well played. </p>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-75283757999040578322009-09-18T23:51:00.000-07:002009-09-19T00:16:38.760-07:00Distractions from the 30th floor windowSeptember 9th, 2009 (posted late)<br /><br />So I'm working from home today, which means I'm sitting in my friends' apartment, who were kind enough to let me house-sit while they went trekking in Nepal and Tibet. The thing is, I get distracted by stupid things while I'm proofreading some dry reports for work. Exhibit A: the round-about outside the apartment.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SrR_0S-nBZI/AAAAAAAAA1w/S2A4GM8vq6g/s1600-h/Dubai+1+002.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383067991038952850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SrR_0S-nBZI/AAAAAAAAA1w/S2A4GM8vq6g/s400/Dubai+1+002.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Even for a lifelong connoisseur of ways to zone oneself out, this thing is <em>RIVETING</em>. It's like staring into a fire. You just look out, see the cars going around, the people that occasionally wander out in the way, and BAM you're totally zoned out. It's the worst during the morning rush hour, but it goes on all day.<br /><br />Next is the window cleaners who came by and cleaned the 30th floor windows, also providing a convenient distraction from my job, as well as making me suddenly grateful that I was doing such dry work. I think this is going to be the first part of an ongoing series called "Jobs I'm Glad I Don't Do."<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5383069618278653954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SrSBTA6yYAI/AAAAAAAAA14/HdksopRGK8s/s400/Dubai+1+003.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Jobs I'm Glad I Don't Do, Part I: Window Washing on 30+ Story Buildings</p><p>Please note the cable in the background which looks like it's not quite taut. That's cuz it wasn't quite taut. For some reason the cord had gotten tangled, so when the man in the picture finished fixing whatever was going on (about 5 seconds after taking this picture) the entire side of the applepicking/windowwashing machine just dropped like six inches before the cord caught. I felt my own heart leap into my throat, and also nearly browned my shorts, and I wasn't even in the thing. I can't imagine how the man in blue and his unpictured companion must have felt. All I can say is "THIS guy is glad he's not THAT guy."</p>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-53088033603994922492009-09-05T07:02:00.000-07:002009-09-05T07:38:44.954-07:00Dubai!!!!<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SqJ2-2D-8jI/AAAAAAAAA1o/N0r1r1IAZiA/s1600-h/Dubai+1+012.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377991727069983282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SqJ2-2D-8jI/AAAAAAAAA1o/N0r1r1IAZiA/s320/Dubai+1+012.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify">After a long hiatus due to the general un-blog-worthiness of my life in Washington DC, I feel like it's time to revive the CBennyC Journal of Discourses so that any of you out there who might feel inclined to stay in touch has a little window onto my life. Just to fast-forward from the last post, we successfully finished our tour of the world last summer, visiting 15 countries in 6 weeks, including Egypt, Greece, Macedonia, Kosovo, Albania, Montenegro, Croatia, Bosnia & Hercegovina, Serbia, Hungary, Germany, Estonia, Russia, Hong Kong, and Japan. It was nothing short of epic. I then hung out in the SLC for a couple of months, spent the rest of the year in Washington DC, and am now back in the Middle East.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div align="justify">So where do I start with Dubai? My first impression was the tremendous heat. The day I left I checked out weather.com which told me that the high for that day in Dubai would be 104. Not bad. Except that underneath it was the little note: <em>feels like 129.</em>.. And it does. The humidity is killer. I ran a marathon in Death Valley when the temperatures soared above 130. And Dubai in summer is worse. My glasses fog up every time I go outside. It is nasty. </div><div></div><div><br /></div><div align="justify">The second thing about Dubai is the construction. Everywhere. The entire city feels like a giant construction zone. The view out my friend's window where I'm staying is of a place called "Business Bay" which in a few years will be kind of like the Manhattan of Dubai, a financial center of high-rises centered around a lake:<br /></div><div><br /></div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377986303286367746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SqJyDI5M1gI/AAAAAAAAA1Q/edVMiJYNxuU/s400/Dubai+1+001.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="left">Note the Swiss-cheese looking building in the middle. That is for real. I actually googled "Swiss cheese building Dubai" and the following article was the first to come up: <a href="http://www.building.co.uk/story.asp?storycode=3134358">http://www.building.co.uk/story.asp?storycode=3134358</a>.</p><p align="justify">Also, the malls are awesome. I hate malls except in Dubai where I think they're cool. Especially Dubai Mall, which opened 10 months ago. It is the largest mall in the world, even bigger than Mall of the Emirates down the road which has a ski resort in it. Dubai Mall has a skating rink, a theme park sponsored by Sega, and once all the spots open up, over 1200 stores. My favorite parts about it are the shark aquarium,: </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377989874714910194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 298px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 223px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SqJ1TBgHnfI/AAAAAAAAA1Y/Aj5jcOOvgxE/s320/Dubai+1+016.jpg" border="0" />and the awesome fountain shows which go on at night:<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377985256586068322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 255px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SqJxGNoZwWI/AAAAAAAAA04/5DcX3SCZ3_M/s400/Fountains.jpg" border="0" /><br /></p><div align="justify">After a frenetic week of apartment hunting, getting settled in at my new job, and general stress at moving and adjusting to a new place, I'm finally getting around to enjoying the place. And what better way to enjoy a place with nothing but luxury options than a trip to the pool? Note the picture on the right, where my camera lens, like my glasses, had fogged up due to the humidity. And also note the building in the background, the Burj Dubai, the tallest in the world. </div><div><br /></div><p align="left"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SqJxRkKzD4I/AAAAAAAAA1A/AkzxojpcAi4/s1600-h/Dubai+1+005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377985451614474114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 291px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 381px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SqJxRkKzD4I/AAAAAAAAA1A/AkzxojpcAi4/s400/Dubai+1+005.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SqJ2EpPARAI/AAAAAAAAA1g/l6RbaOLfr4I/s1600-h/Dubai+1+004.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377990727194133506" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 382px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SqJ2EpPARAI/AAAAAAAAA1g/l6RbaOLfr4I/s320/Dubai+1+004.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-3647577705511941462008-06-19T03:50:00.000-07:002008-06-28T06:21:04.678-07:00Macedonia and Kosovo<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFo7JHD-knI/AAAAAAAAAhw/jrVVKB0okfk/s1600-h/IMG_0758.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 287px; height: 216px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFo7JHD-knI/AAAAAAAAAhw/jrVVKB0okfk/s320/IMG_0758.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213544546335363698" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFo68HIKtaI/AAAAAAAAAhY/t2gNT9Tvp-4/s1600-h/DSCN0425.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 215px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFo68HIKtaI/AAAAAAAAAhY/t2gNT9Tvp-4/s320/DSCN0425.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213544323014636962" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>With a population of around 2 million, and not much to offer besides the huge Lake Ohhhhhhhhhhhrid, Macedonia was nonetheless a very fun visit. From there we rented a car (more smoothly than in Greece incidentally, and for much much cheaper) and used it as a base camp from which to run up and visit newly born Kosovo (though with the way Serbia is behaving it's sort of a half-birth thus far).<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFo68abchZI/AAAAAAAAAhg/53IsIFXjBQQ/s1600-h/IMG_0741.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFo68abchZI/AAAAAAAAAhg/53IsIFXjBQQ/s320/IMG_0741.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213544328195769746" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Unfortunately the computer here in Moscow (we're about 3 weeks behind on pictures) won't let me upload any more pictures, so this is all for now.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFo68fBCseI/AAAAAAAAAho/LvvxZ3bqfIg/s1600-h/IMG_0765.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFo68fBCseI/AAAAAAAAAho/LvvxZ3bqfIg/s320/IMG_0765.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213544329427202530" border="0" /></a><br /></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-92085236505603992432008-06-15T08:14:00.001-07:002008-06-15T08:35:47.789-07:00Dubrovnikking and Greece PicturesSo we have successfully been to Macedonia, Kosovo, Albania, Montenegro, and are currently in Dubrovnik, Croatia, where we are spending 2 days in a kind of break from our constant car trip. Needless to say the 5 previously mentioned countries have absolutely stunning countryside. The road trip across Albania was one of the most incredible mountainsides I have ever ascended, and the narrowness of the roads and the igloo shaped bunkers all over the place only added to the adrenaline rush of feeling like you were on top of the world.<br /><br />Dubrovnik is absolutely one of the most beautiful cities I have ever been to.<br /><br />However, the picture updates are behind the actual trip, so I'm backtracking to recount Greece.<br /><br />First, we arrived in Athens at 6 AM on the morning of June 8. We were unable to check into our hostel until noon, so we spent the morning completely exhausted and therefore slaphappy wandering around the Parthenon:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0uAYujnI/AAAAAAAAAgI/QRN9G1PvFYc/s1600-h/Parthenon+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0uAYujnI/AAAAAAAAAgI/QRN9G1PvFYc/s320/Parthenon+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212130108733558386" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0Uz7tQyI/AAAAAAAAAfw/2qgZPTKUIeo/s1600-h/Parthenon+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0Uz7tQyI/AAAAAAAAAfw/2qgZPTKUIeo/s320/Parthenon+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212129675893883682" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0Hv7UV5I/AAAAAAAAAfg/9T0E_UpjDzI/s1600-h/Parthenon+3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 310px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0Hv7UV5I/AAAAAAAAAfg/9T0E_UpjDzI/s320/Parthenon+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212129451480209298" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br />After which, we went and took a nap and awaited the arrival of our cousin Cole, who showed up for an evening exploring the ancient ruins.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0H88P2ZI/AAAAAAAAAfo/Kfdoa9UaI2M/s1600-h/Parthenon+4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0H88P2ZI/AAAAAAAAAfo/Kfdoa9UaI2M/s320/Parthenon+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212129454973770130" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br />The next morning we took our newly rented car (a tiny little deal, we had to stack 2 of our bags in between Heber & Ryan in the back, and Ryan kept hitting his head. It was one of those times I'm glad to be shorter than average. Also glad that I was navigator, which meant permanent shotgun status.<br /><br />We drove up through the beautiful Grecian countryside to a little town called Kalambaka, in the shadows of some monasteries built into very sheer cliffs. The whole area is called Meteora. The morning of the 10th was spent exploring the monasteries and hiking around, then we got a guide to take us rock climbing. Not a bad place for Heber & I to do our first rock climbing.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1GPtUanI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/XJx4IJmQjJY/s1600-h/Rock+Climbing+1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1GPtUanI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/XJx4IJmQjJY/s320/Rock+Climbing+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212130525163317874" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1G7jKnDI/AAAAAAAAAgo/LQjV8abNsO0/s1600-h/Rock+Climbing+4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1G7jKnDI/AAAAAAAAAgo/LQjV8abNsO0/s320/Rock+Climbing+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212130536931892274" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1G_CJyUI/AAAAAAAAAgg/TyDTwHDlD5o/s1600-h/Rock+Climbing+3.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1G_CJyUI/AAAAAAAAAgg/TyDTwHDlD5o/s320/Rock+Climbing+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212130537867168066" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1GaiwzeI/AAAAAAAAAgY/zgkh72vRdPo/s1600-h/Rock+Climbing+2.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1GaiwzeI/AAAAAAAAAgY/zgkh72vRdPo/s320/Rock+Climbing+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212130528071831010" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1HEBBqRI/AAAAAAAAAgw/voYiNO-K4uk/s1600-h/Rock+Climbing+5.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1HEBBqRI/AAAAAAAAAgw/voYiNO-K4uk/s320/Rock+Climbing+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212130539204618514" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU192XZtkI/AAAAAAAAAg4/VL9hsUn1pFY/s1600-h/Rock+Climbing+6.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU192XZtkI/AAAAAAAAAg4/VL9hsUn1pFY/s320/Rock+Climbing+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212131480433178178" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1-J-ffJI/AAAAAAAAAhA/eDXML2oxTCE/s1600-h/Rock+Climbing+7.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 211px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1-J-ffJI/AAAAAAAAAhA/eDXML2oxTCE/s320/Rock+Climbing+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212131485697408146" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1-CDDIUI/AAAAAAAAAhI/WJqIWVhnoGw/s1600-h/Rock+Climbing+8.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 284px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1-CDDIUI/AAAAAAAAAhI/WJqIWVhnoGw/s320/Rock+Climbing+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212131483569037634" border="0" /></a><br /></div><br /><br />After which we headed north to Thessaloniki, which was kind of unimpressive.<br /><br />On the evening of the 11th we jumped on the train up to Macedonia.....<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1-VPCGrI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/71iVOrnSJrc/s1600-h/Train+1.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU1-VPCGrI/AAAAAAAAAhQ/71iVOrnSJrc/s320/Train+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212131488719575730" border="0" /></a><br /></div>And as usual, the obligatory celebration of the artwork which is Heber's hair.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0t5peYqI/AAAAAAAAAgA/aexQms46nKo/s1600-h/Rat+Tail+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFU0t5peYqI/AAAAAAAAAgA/aexQms46nKo/s320/Rat+Tail+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212130106924753570" border="0" /></a>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-43979830491681897882008-06-12T14:09:00.000-07:002008-06-12T14:24:06.745-07:00Leg 1 Pictures: Egypt<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGT6IQi48I/AAAAAAAAAew/vknRiuzTe-M/s1600-h/Egypt+Pyramids+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGT6IQi48I/AAAAAAAAAew/vknRiuzTe-M/s320/Egypt+Pyramids+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211108870702949314" border="0" /></a><br />So here are some of the pictures from Leg 1 of the Cannonballz World Tour 2008. It started with Heber going to Abu Simbel with Mike Christensen. (I had to remain in Cairo to take care of th Russian visa).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGSiMNYKNI/AAAAAAAAAeg/X894g3GEdyQ/s1600-h/Egypt+8.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGSiMNYKNI/AAAAAAAAAeg/X894g3GEdyQ/s320/Egypt+8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211107359934916818" border="0" /></a><br />I then flew down and met them for this sweet overnight sailing trip on the Nile:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGRQx7Sa4I/AAAAAAAAAdw/apfCyeauR74/s1600-h/Egypt+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGRQx7Sa4I/AAAAAAAAAdw/apfCyeauR74/s320/Egypt+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211105961310317442" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGQ4Bbsq0I/AAAAAAAAAdg/-8W_K7mkdmA/s1600-h/Egypt+5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGQ4Bbsq0I/AAAAAAAAAdg/-8W_K7mkdmA/s320/Egypt+5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211105535976057666" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGRRPBFXfI/AAAAAAAAAeA/rOBbGstOKPM/s1600-h/Egypt+6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGRRPBFXfI/AAAAAAAAAeA/rOBbGstOKPM/s320/Egypt+6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211105969119256050" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />After which we visited Karnak Temple. I wasn't quite so reverent.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGQ4JG6pOI/AAAAAAAAAdo/UEIPWkMoWqk/s1600-h/Egypt+7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGQ4JG6pOI/AAAAAAAAAdo/UEIPWkMoWqk/s320/Egypt+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211105538036376802" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGShWfGhMI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/gSlcA9yjuNU/s1600-h/Egypt+Karate.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 274px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGShWfGhMI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/gSlcA9yjuNU/s320/Egypt+Karate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211107345513743554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGQ3ZlIyNI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/M4_zqOo4IiM/s1600-h/Egypt+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 259px; height: 194px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGQ3ZlIyNI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/M4_zqOo4IiM/s320/Egypt+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211105525278230738" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Followed by some lounge time and snorkeling on the Red Sea.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGQ3w-vXVI/AAAAAAAAAdY/9ps6V8pa9AE/s1600-h/Egypt+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGQ3w-vXVI/AAAAAAAAAdY/9ps6V8pa9AE/s320/Egypt+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211105531559632210" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And then the Pyramids and Cairo.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGShZqddxI/AAAAAAAAAeI/Y0hY3FyccII/s1600-h/Egypt+Pyramids.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGShZqddxI/AAAAAAAAAeI/Y0hY3FyccII/s320/Egypt+Pyramids.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211107346366691090" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGShiorn5I/AAAAAAAAAeY/e6kb5QALljs/s1600-h/Egypt+9.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGShiorn5I/AAAAAAAAAeY/e6kb5QALljs/s320/Egypt+9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211107348775149458" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And then we shaved Heber & I's head. For Heber we left this gorgeous rat tail. The razor gave out about 80% of the way through my haircut, which meant at the Pyramids I had random tufts of hair sticking out, but then I went to my barber and got it fixed.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGTgJ1MMAI/AAAAAAAAAeo/r-I-0o6KKME/s1600-h/Rat+Tail.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGTgJ1MMAI/AAAAAAAAAeo/r-I-0o6KKME/s320/Rat+Tail.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211108424448487426" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGRRAcmOMI/AAAAAAAAAd4/VEPwU-7dmp4/s1600-h/Egypt+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGRRAcmOMI/AAAAAAAAAd4/VEPwU-7dmp4/s320/Egypt+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211105965208123586" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SFGRRPBFXfI/AAAAAAAAAeA/rOBbGstOKPM/s1600-h/Egypt+6.jpg"> </a></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-71146426982424608332008-06-11T23:09:00.000-07:002008-06-11T23:11:21.689-07:00Just to update everyone, we made it safely through Greece after seeing some amazing stuff. Highlights included Athens, rock climbing in Meteora, and some amazing drives through the Parnassos national park and the mountains around it. Yesterday we took a train from Thessaloniki and have now officially begun the road trip portion of the trip. We got to Skopje, Macedonia last night, and will be running up to Kosovo this morning, after which we will return to Macedonia and spend the night on Lake Ohrid, and then off to Albania and then Montenegro on Friday.<br /><br />Stories & pics to come!!!<br /><br />CurtisCurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-23738141943195896492008-06-08T14:01:00.000-07:002008-06-08T14:06:39.339-07:00So the Cannonballzzz World Tour 2008 is officially underway. Heber arrived in Cairo a little over a week ago, after which we did a quick tour of Egypt. First we went to Aswan, followed by an overnight sailing on the Nile on a felucca. We then continued downstream to Luxor where we visited the temples and the Valley of the Kings. After which we flew to Sharm el-Sheikh and spent 3 days lounging on the beach and snorkeling amongst the fishies. <br /><br />We then did 2 days in Cairo, and I finally visited the Pyramids. I had successfully avoided that circus for an entire year and 3 days. However, my last day in Cairo we went. <br /><br />Now we are in Athens. After a flight that left Cairo at 3:45 AM and landed in Athens at 5:45 AM, we came to our hostel (The Easy Hostel) and dropped our bags off. They wouldn't let us check in so Ryan, Heber, and I wandered about in a daze and went to the Parthenon and the Acropolis. We then went back and took naps while waiting for cousin Cole to show up. Now the 4 of us are ready to rock Greece. Tomorrow we will be heading north and doing some rock climbing at Meteora, after which we will be heading to Thessalonika. <br /><br />Pictures coming soon....CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-74256255922121431312008-06-05T14:00:00.000-07:002008-06-05T14:07:38.188-07:00Trilingual Bilateral Cultural Exchange Part 3So while I might have mastered the labyrinth which was the Russian embassy in Cairo, I failed to give myself adequate time to conquer the Chinese one. In spite of gathering all the documents which their website said was necessary (including bank statements, proof of enrollment at the university, hotel reservations, and $130), here were the excuses offered for not even considering my visa application:<br /><br />First visit: my bank statement was not actually from the bank, but printed off the computer (apparently the fact that all statements are now sent via the internet doesn't matter to China). <br /><br />RESPONSE: Dig up older original bank statement.<br /><br />Second visit: my current bank statement off the internet in combination with an original older bank statement doesn't work either: they need ALL my bank statements, original, from the last 6 months. <br /><br />RESPONSE: Have father overnight said bank statements to my roommate Michael who was coming out to visit. Michael brings statements, which I deliver to my travel agent, who assures me that this time, the third time, is the charm. <br /><br />Third visit: They inform me that I will have to extend my EGYPTIAN residency visa, which is good until the end of June, in order to qualify to receive a CHINESE visa. They could have informed me of this 3 weeks ago on attempt number 1, or told me from the start that I needed an Egyptian residency visa valid for at least 2 months in order to qualify for a visa application. You'd think my agent would have known these things. She did not get paid for anything, needless to say.CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-1742512042240942232008-05-29T10:45:00.000-07:002008-05-29T10:54:55.998-07:00ApologiesFor my lack of pictures lately. My camera has not been functioning properly, I think it got an amoeba or Cairo food poisoning or something. However, Heber has a camera for our round-the-world extravaganza, so we should have some good shots eventually.CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-25149850923019534212008-05-29T10:29:00.000-07:002008-05-29T10:42:21.338-07:00Trilingual Bilateral Cultural Exchange, Part 2It turns out that trilingual cultural exchange, like all things, gets tainted once you wrap it in a shroud of mysterious bureaucratic inefficiency. The Russo-Egyptian combo is lethal!!! My brother Heber and I have planned a trip for this summer, starting here in Egypt and ending in Japan where we will meet my parents and pick up my youngest brother from his mission. After much thought and debate we decided to visit Russia and China, with an overland journey through southeastern Europe on the way. Had I known how difficult the visas would be to get, I would have bagged all that and just gone to Thailand. But oh well. Heber got his visas taken care of at great expense; I'm almost there.<br /><br />Here is what it took to get a Russian visa in Cairo:<br /><br />$30 to have an agency "invite" me to Russia.<br />$75 to have said "invite" shipped to Cairo, as the embassy here requires the original copy.<br />5 total trips down to the consulate<br />12 hours of waiting time, 8 outside the consulate, 4 inside (over 5 visits).<br />$150 for the visa itself.<br /><br />Needless to say, I was never so excited to hand over the final $150 and have it be done. After 3 failed visits down to the consulate without entering, I found out which travel agency the university here in Cairo uses to get visas for its professors, and they said they'd be happy to help me. However, they apparently had never helped an American get a Russian visa before: the embassy has a rule that agencies MUST do single-day service, which for Americans comes to $550 plus insurance fees, meaning the total cost of my visa was going to approach $700. So last Thursday, being the last possible day I could apply for regular service and have it be done in time, I went way early and parked myself in front of the door 2 hours before it opened. My zealousness paid off, and I got in. I had to come back today, and I once again got in, but then had to wait inside for over 3 hours while they.... well, I don't know exactly what they were doing.<br /><br />Next up: Visa to China.CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-39658441044422573702008-05-13T19:20:00.000-07:002008-05-13T19:46:15.104-07:00Music Video<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpQedejVQI/AAAAAAAAAdE/Vs4SVaeMnnY/s1600-h/CloseupCurt4.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 129px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpQedejVQI/AAAAAAAAAdE/Vs4SVaeMnnY/s400/CloseupCurt4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200057203991729410" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpOWdejVLI/AAAAAAAAAcc/gz1-OXWPCbc/s1600-h/CloseupBrian.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 129px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpOWdejVLI/AAAAAAAAAcc/gz1-OXWPCbc/s200/CloseupBrian.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200054867529520306" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpOWtejVMI/AAAAAAAAAck/z_TIL87p8d8/s1600-h/Aaron+closeup.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 129px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpOWtejVMI/AAAAAAAAAck/z_TIL87p8d8/s200/Aaron+closeup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200054871824487618" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpOW9ejVOI/AAAAAAAAAc0/m-Vk3Ps4hNM/s1600-h/CloseupScott.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 129px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpOW9ejVOI/AAAAAAAAAc0/m-Vk3Ps4hNM/s200/CloseupScott.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200054876119454946" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpOWtejVNI/AAAAAAAAAcs/wuRTF2SRWnw/s1600-h/Aatif+Closeup.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 127px; height: 129px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpOWtejVNI/AAAAAAAAAcs/wuRTF2SRWnw/s200/Aatif+Closeup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200054871824487634" border="0" /></a></div>So as part of our effort to improve intercultural relations we made a video celebrating one thing Middle Easterners and Americans have an affinity for: trashy pop music. We downloaded a karaoke version of "I Want it That Way" by the Backstreet Boys, borrowed some cheesy lyrics from various Arab pop songs, and after some effort recorded it. "Shabaab al-Haara" or "Back Alley Male Youths" was born (we rendered a stilted translation both ways as part of the joke). <span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpQANejVPI/AAAAAAAAAc8/5RzR3JrUAGE/s1600-h/CloseupSilhouette.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 347px; height: 219px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_jEvZP08D7W0/SCpQANejVPI/AAAAAAAAAc8/5RzR3JrUAGE/s400/CloseupSilhouette.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200056684300686578" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGA07Zb9kNw">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGA07Zb9kNw</a><br /><br />Thanks to Aaron Rock, Brian Loo, Aatif Iqbal, and Scott Trigg for being part of the Male Youths, and thanks to EB Harper for letting us borrow her camera, and to Clay Adair, Mark Lomedico, and Dan Stoltz for letting us borrow their time to film us clowning around. <br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-77620228072958866342008-04-08T04:39:00.000-07:002008-04-08T04:53:18.766-07:00Trilingual Bilateral Culture ExchangeMany people thought I was crazy for attempting to learn Arabic: a foreign language with a different alphabet, totally different grammar, and even different sounds that just don’t exist in English (or any European language). <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Well now I am taking Russian, another language with another different alphabet. <span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">So how crazy is it that I'm taking the third language/alphabet in the second language/alphabet.<span style=""> </span>That is right, I am taking a Russian class explained in Arabic.<span style=""> It's left-to-right again, but explained in the right-to-left.<br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Needless to say it is quite an exercise in toggling.<span style=""> </span>All the words we learn we get the Arabic translation for.<span style=""> </span>However, Arabic is a terrible language to write down phonetics (how a word actually sounds).<span style=""> </span>So I’ve taken to writing the Russian word down with the Arabic translation next to it, but then writing the phonetic version of how it is pronounced in English letters.<span style=""> </span>It creates quite a headache sometimes.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><o:p> </o:p>EXAMPLE:</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="" lang="RU">Преподавательница<span style=""> </span>=<span style=""> </span></span><span dir="rtl" style="" lang="AR-EG"><span style="">مدرسة = prepadaVAtyilniitsa<br /></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p>“Teacher.”<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p>OR:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="" lang="RU">Откуда вы приехали?<span style=""> </span>=<span style=""> </span></span><span style="">Otkuda Vee Priyekhali? </span><span dir="rtl" style="" lang="AR-EG">من أين وصلت؟ <span style=""> </span>= </span><span style=""><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p>Meaning “Where did you come from?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p>However, the workout which is switching between my second language and third language while using letters from my first language to ensure pronunciation is nothing compared to the fascinating (and perhaps even more headache-inspiring) experience of being the foreigner in a class full or Egyptians.<span style=""> </span>At first our teacher, as much to show off to me his own language skills as to help me, explained everything in both English and Arabic.<span style=""> </span>This simply angered the other students who couldn’t understand his English.<span style=""> </span>To be truthful I couldn’t understand much of his English either; his Arabic explanations were much clearer.<span style=""> </span>I quietly pulled him aside after the first week and asked him to just explain things in Arabic, since I was trying to learn both Arabic and Russian.<span style=""> </span>He laughed and agreed, though I’ve had to remind him a couple of times since then.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="">Yesterday he taught us a phrase that means “Repetition is the mother of learning.”<span style=""> </span>The phrase rhymes in Russian so it sounds nice.<span style=""> </span>The teacher explained what it meant in Arabic but then rendered an English translation in his thick accent, “Rreapeating is mother of educating.”<span style=""> </span>I quickly said, “hey, no English” (in Arabic), and then thoughtlessly added (in Arabic) that “we don’t have a proverb like that, it’s better in Arabic.”<span style=""> </span>Of course, in retrospect, we do (“practice makes perfect.”) but I was simply stating the literal translation sounded weird.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p><br /> <br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="">However, then my friend Ahmed jumped in, “Actually, that’s not a proverb, it’s more of a saying.”<span style=""> </span>Then, he said (in Arabic) “in English you would call that an expression.”<span style=""> </span>He said “expression” in English.<span style=""> </span>This prompted Mustafa, another classmate, to wonder whether it would properly be translated as “saying” or “expression.”<span style=""> </span>After about 3 minutes of discussing the finer points of how to translate the various terms for “idiomatic expression,” “pithy saying,” and “proverb,” with additional discussion as to which category “repetition is the mother of learning” fit into, we finally were able to move on to the next point.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p> <br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="">Such is the nature of bilateral cultural exchange in a third language.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p> <br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="">I’ve learned some about Egyptian students.<span style=""> </span>Of course, I’m generalizing, but I think it’s a safe statement that observations which would be considered hurtful or lacking tact in the West are not that big of deal.<span style=""> </span>Here are some of the things my classmates have said about me either to my face or to other people about me.<br /><span style=""> </span><br /> “Curtis does not have very good pronunciation in Russian.” <br /> “Curtis, why do you not study very hard.”<o:p></o:p><br /> “Curtis, you are not doing very well, you should consider dropping out so as to not waste your time.”<o:p></o:p><br /> “Curtis is kind of lazy in Russian.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="">It kind of cracks me up, because I’m actually not that worse than my classmates.<span style=""> </span>I pronounce Russian terribly with an American accent, they pronounce it terribly with an Egyptian one.<span style=""> </span>However, since the rest of them are Egyptian and so is our teacher, I’m the one that looks bad.<span style=""> </span>As for the laziness accusation, it is true that I am a little bit less focused.<span style=""> </span>I’m learning more Arabic than Russian from these classes, and am just hoping to pick up a few helpful phrases.<span style=""> </span>The four of them want to become Russian tour guides by the end of the summer.<span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="">Of course, the whole tact thing doesn’t just apply to language.<span style=""> </span>My friend Ahmed has also said, at various points to either me or my friends:<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="">“Why does your hair always look so bad?<span style=""> </span>Why don’t you brush it?”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="">“You eat more than any girl I have ever known.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><span style="">“Clay you are very weak in Arabic language.”<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">To him, these are just statements of fact, objective observations; no insult or shame is implied.</span></p>Nor, for the record, is any insult or shame taken. Doing trilingual bilateral cultural exchange can't allow for it. <br /><p class="MsoNormal"></p><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><o:p> </o:p></span></p>CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8259852529517353858.post-53479981997353786852008-03-05T14:18:00.000-08:002008-03-05T14:20:15.431-08:00http://www.egyptianmarathon.net/result%20Pharo%2007/Result-Solo%2007.htm<br /><br />http://www.egyptianmarathon.net/Marathon%20Results%2008/Marathon%20results-Male%2008.htm<br /><br />That's right. I rule.CurtCannonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14201996797806856145noreply@blogger.com1