Tag Archives: portugal

A Very Lisbon Day

Twas the eve before flying back to Jersey, and all through the nest, not a creature was stirring, ‘cept for that lizard that peeks his head in through the hole in the ceiling.

I tried to call audioblogger to do the deed, but no dice. Hence; no accented BM shouting “I HEART XTX” or “Tracy! Ttothe33! Word to ma Gramma!”, and no audio thank you to my favorite blogger of the Chicago area, for his product placement in his photo which appeared on Busblog. I guess I won’t be able to podcast until I’m states side. Which reminds me of my new desire for the world: broadband as a human right! YES! Right next to food, water, shelter, and expression. I’d like to be the first shallow blogger to put BROADBAND right there on the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. You don’t agree? Try using broadband for 4 years, and then going back to dial-up, it’s a crime against humanity. And I demand liberation world-wide.

Managed to spend the after noon with that infamous wordsmith J.P. We had a Mozambican lunch, just outside the castle walls (yes Lisbon has a nice big one), which hit the spot. The conversation was as colorful as ever, with JP only mentioning assassinating or torturing world leaders a handful of times. Turns out, JP lives next door to the Vatican mission/consulate thingy. If I were him, and maybe he did this already, I would keep my naked bum pressed against the glass as often as possible. I would also dress as Satan, ring their doorbell, and propose holding peace talks.

I?ve taken piles of photos, mostly of the Lisbon Metro which, in my experience, is amongst the coolest in the world. Some telemarketing whorebag tried to stop me on the street and ask me to sell my soul on her clipboard . She starts by walking alongside me and asking if I?m a student or employed, I answered in proper Portuguese, that I?m a tourist. She gave me the ?you’?re an asshole? look and said ?You?re a tourist and you?re Portuguese?? I stopped walking, opened my eyes wide and nodded ? ?That?s right sister!?

So the Portuguese fisherman and ministry of agriculture are on TV all fussy about the EU fishing policies. Apparently the EU decided not to protect certain waters, including lots of Portuguese waters, from overfishing. They made some relatively symbolic reductions in quotas, but all-in-all, it?ll be excessive fishing as usual in Portugal.

What gets me is how unsustainable these guys are. All they care about in the short term. Fish fish fish? doesn?t matter if Cod or Swordfish are on the verge of extinction, they just want to keep pretending the well will never go dry. Once again.. I hate this bullshit narrow-minded economic outlook.

Meanwhile in Amsterdam, Ms_thingk is selling everything.. and returning to Holland…. Michigan. Tune in ma?ana for my jetlagged tribute to her.

Today’s Sounds: RPL – Radio Paris Lisboa (it’s in Portuguese and French!)

Time Warp

Being the good Samaritan that I am? I traded my window seat to the mom who wanted to sit next to her cute little girl. In exchange, as usual, I got to sit next to the alcoholic and the neurotic. He came on to the plane smelling like beer, and he didn?t let a flight attendant walk by without asking for another. She was constantly taking off and putting on layers, and picking at the pathetic egg-sandwich thing that is supposed to pass for Portuguese-cuisine. I kept thinking of Jamie and his friend Brian, taking the Thalys to Paris, hoping to sit next to models or moviestars.

The only consolation was that I messed with their damaged minds? I arrived first, and began reading my French weekly newspaper. Soon after I switched to reading Bukowski (in English), and spoke to the passenger behind me in Dutch. The lush seemed really eager to classify me? possibly Dutch? or maybe Belgian because of the French language item. I really threw him for a drunken loop when I spoke to the flight crew in Portuguese, and then asked for the best Portuguese newspaper of all time. Oh he wanted to start a conversation? so he could put me a little box, like the neurotic lady to my left. But I wouldn’t say more than two words in any language to that sloppy bastard. And fuck? can they put economy class seats ANY closer together?

One final air travel note, my horn traveled first class to Lisbon. We?re all packed in like sardines, while there is practically NO ONE in first class, but that never matters does it? When I did my usual: ask female flight attendants in a na?ve manner where they can stow my horn? then bat eyelashes and be very polite; they seemed quite puzzled. So? they buckled my baby into first class. I was proud! We lemmings may not be allowed to sit up there, but my horn didn?t pay a dime, and got drunk on champaign and caviar. DAM THE MAN.

So here I sit on top of the world, in my apartment that has always been affectionately called ?the Nest?.. because it?s made of twigs, is almost destroyed by heavy winds, and sits above the Tagus river.. where I can watch the sun set. Lisbon is just as I left it? full of classic urban ironies. My neighbors barely recognize me, probably because they?re all pushing 90. The only person my age, cutey working-student girl downstairs, seemed shocked to see me? almost as if I had ruined her secret plan to marry me by moving to the ‘dam. That would have been nice, we?d then have a two floor apartment and a building full of geriatrics, on the verge of collapse.

One last thing, speaking of collapse, there’s no government here in Portugal. That’s right… the government resigned, claiming that it couldn’t go on after all the political infighting and governing mistakes they had made. I find this to be a beautiful thing, and an admirable tradition in many countries. Now, if only a certain spoiled rich-boy president, who bumbled his nation’s finances, education system, civil rights, foreign policy… you name it… why can’t American presidents ever throw in the towel anymore? Suddenly I miss Nixon!?

Today’s Sounds: The Roots – Tipping Point

Vacation in 5..4..3..

I tend to put my suitcase next to my closet two days before travel. The idea is somehow it will pack itself. While I sleep my room will get all Bedknobs and Broomsticks and Angela Landsbury will select my favorite shirts and boxer shorts… cause fuck it… thats all Im wearing this vacation. Oh wait.. it’s cold.

Yesterday was podcasting sunday, but due to special programming, I moved it to today… SEE! But no audiopost… I’m saving that for when I’m back on the Iberian peninsula drinking Portuguese Ice-teas, which -I might add- are my favorite in the world.

Well, I’m sorry to Dawn and Drew, my original favorites and still beloved, but I have a new favorite podcast. And this one doesn’t involve sex, barns, or animals (as theirs often does)… this one is all about Japan! Yes… Tokyo to be more precise.. TOKYO CALLING, which is entirely the work of Scott Lockman, an Northwestern American who has become my new favorite voice in MP3 format.

His podcasts are about many things… but overall.. life in Tokyo, where he has lived for the past 10 years or so. (i think) I totally enjoy the stories of his wife and three daughters, them going to the park, or what it takes to get into kindergarten in his area. (you wouldn’t believe the jumping through the hoops) This past weekend I was glued to my speakers as he takes the audience along on his ride to work. He describes all the bits and bobs of the transport system, and some of the people he sees. The best is when he pops into an electronics shop where the salesman explains how stuff works. I’m not sure what I like better about this podcast… the stories or the sounds. Maybe both. It’s great gratuitous Japan insight.. and even makes me curious to live there. (no such plan.. Im working on staying dutch for awhile and making some portuguese-dutch-american children… now taking applications for egg donors)

I bet my extremely under the weather friend in Philly, NoCoins, would love this podcast… he’s fascinated by Japan and occasionally shouts Japanese words.

Now I shall take my leave of you, practice horn for an hour and run to this play. As of tomorrow I’m a traveling blogger! – ain’t that exciting? Yes… I’ll be live from my apartment in Lisbon, Portugal.. stay tuned.

One final note… why are some people shocked at the news? Bush as Time magazine’s person of the year, is the equivalent of the Pope being the Catholic Church’s person of the year… no shocker. And yeah yeah.. I know the explanation about making news during the course of the year. I still think both the man and the magazine are corporate whores.

Today’s Sounds: Buddy Rich Big Band – Burning for Buddy

Politics with a genius

The communiqu? presents: a slightly edited version of an interview with my buddy JP who resides in Lisbon, Portugal, and can out curse a sailor when he wants to.

bicyclemark: Well… first off, welcome to the blog JP…

bicyclemark: So JP… do you recall around the time where you and I became pals… tell the tale for the audience at home….

J.P. : you were starting to work in that piece of shit school, it was around February 2002?

bicyclemark: True true.

J.P. : and, I don’t recall the exact circumstances

bicyclemark: Was it my keen vocabulary and style of clothes that led you to become my friend?

J.P. : that, and your politics, and your naivet?, and you having had dealings with the Cosa Nostra.

bicyclemark: I see. And you live in Lisbon.. a city that will forever own my heart… where people barely find the time, between eating, smoking and coffee, to go to work. Could you sum up, in four words… what its like living there?

J.P. : being buggered by apes covered in shit

bicyclemark: nice While we’re on shit covered apes… any words about the prime minister of portugal who just resigned?

J.P. : no words strong enough were invented for that piece of sewage in walking form

bicyclemark: I see… just one more in this subject area… any predictions for the future of portugal?

J.P. : when you flush the toilet you see and hear the future of Portugal.

bicyclemark: Excellent political analysis. Very late-modern.

bicyclemark: Moving on… I have a few Chinese readers.. and I recall your stories of when you traveled china…. when was that again? and why did you go?

J.P. : vacation, August 1996; Macao, Hong Kong, and Beijing

bicyclemark: I see, and there you traveled by train… what was it again? for how long? And what can you say about the experience?

J.P. : 3 days and nights from Beijing to Canton. It was a unique experience. I felt like a black person must feel in, say, Alentejo (who doesn’t know the language)

(editors note: Alentejo- vast rural area to the south of portugal. where portuguese hicks come from)

(J.P. : note again – many people of African descent travel through Alentejo, but mostly they speak Portuguese)

bicyclemark: I was expecting you to tell me to go to hell and defend your home territory.

J.P. : well, no – there are hicks in Alentejo, but most assfucking male-raping hillbillies that I know of live in Lisbon

bicyclemark: ouch. So back to politics, how bad did this last american election hit you?

J.P. : fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

bicyclemark: I see, so we could say.. not well.

bicyclemark: Hey before we go on… thanks for the Transmetropolitan graphic novels…very thoughtful of you on my bday

J.P. : Spider Jerusalem – a man with political ideas after my own heart

bicyclemark: I think he eats speed for breakfast and shoots people when it pleases him.

J.P. : and throws them turds and dog carcasses; his weapon of choice is lovely: the Bowel Disruptor

bicyclemark: sounds cruel.

bicyclemark: Well mr JP. Time to say thank you.. and well.. end this. Thanks for being on the show.

J.P. : I hope I was as helpful as you thought I might be

Today’s Sounds: Paul Simon – Graceland (now digging through landlord’s CD’s)

25 and still alive

The following is a very me-centered post, so new readers should be horrified at the shallowness.

Through careful ethnographic research I gathered the following information about myself at birth:

As far as I know, I was born on this day 25 years ago, at 15h EST, at some holy hospital in the Portuguese colony of the Ironbound, Newark.

I was a boy.

I was healthy except for the fact that I have two different ears. (one is pointy, the other is folded… just like A-Ren!)

My parents expected a girl, my name was to be “Tammy” which I suppose is short for Tamara. Just imagine visiting BicycleTammy.org to read my blog.

Big Daddy J, one of NJ’s finest delinquent bloggers, at the time 4 years old- was excited at the prospect of a playmate. He wanted my name to be Barney Rubble.. or Fred… something fintstonish.

I believe mine was the first birth that my father, also known as the king of portugal (in exile), actually witnessed first hand. After which he was so horrified he told my mom, no more children; he never wanted to see her go through that again.

They eventually named me bicycemark, in an elaborate ceremony written by Alex Haley, where my dad raised my naked baby-bum up to the heavens and shouted in Portuguese: “bicycle-mark… behold the only thing greater than yourself.” And of course this was Newark, so there was a lampost over us, and ever since I have a great respect for nudity under bright city lights.

Shortly after birth I started blogging. My parents were so proud. They bought a home-personal computer that took up the entire room. And well, for the sake of today’s post, the rest is history.

I meant to do lots of things with my birthday post, but instead I produced this digital poop-post. Should have made a list of what I have never done, like the world-reknown radiohumper. Ah well.

One of the coolest things about being me on this day is all the blog-comments and emails that I got today. What an honor to be honored in blog posts here, here, and who knows- maybe somewhere else. Did you see what my favorite blog mistress xtx’y wrote about moi!! *Blushin.* All I can say is, you guys rock the hiz-ous and meeting all of you thru this here bloggy was the best part of 24… that and the hookers.

Today’s Sounds: Mates of State – Team Boo (a couple from S.F.!)

Podding on the Train

No matter how old I get (5 more days to B-Day), I confess to you, I always get a little nervous when the rowdy teenagers step into the train car where I’ve been peacefully sleeping, reading, music-listening or staring out the window. You know the types – 14 to 16 years old, traveling in packs of 4, unable to speak quietly, baseball caps, big winter jackets, constantly throwing shit or about to throw shit, banging on things, and – I swear – they even smell funny. They smell like teenagers who don’t give a shit about the rules, and are just out for a laugh. And no matter what train you’re on, at what time, they show up when things are most peaceful.

I’m sure it’s very old man-ish of me, but I’ve been this way most of my life. I can remember, even as teenager myself, walking around small towns in Portugal and turning down dark alleys the moment I saw groups of teenagers walking my way. Come to think of it, maybe I’m what the french call “a wuss”.

Whatever the reason, there I was on the train tonight, hoping I was invisible and not a potential make-fun-of-him target. What with my word-filled papers, notebook, collared shirt, and pen. I tried to slouch a bit and be deep in thought, so as not to be noticed. I was also careful to not ignore them, in case the mere act of being oblivious would be an attention getter.

Fortunately for me and my neurosis, as BitchPHD has always told me – it’s not always about me. They chose instead to annoy the man seated behind them by excessively banging on their table while rolling up and down their window (yes.. its one of the old cars). Thankfully for him they got out at Antwerp, and I’ve never been so happy to see boring senior-citizen dutch couples, with their copies of the Davinci code, and bags of shopping, taking the seats around me. Oh hooray for the sound of snoring old passengers. Minutes later, I even joined in. So much for overcoming my irrational fear of groups of teenagers.

My only podcast recommendation for this week: Whole Wheat Radio; broadcasting from Talkeetna, Alaska. WW is super cool if you dig guitars and folk. Oddly enough, computer generated voices announce the songs and their online chat-community thing blows my mind. A robotic voice also announces on the air when their listeners’ blogs are updated. I’m not on their list…. yet.

Today’s Sounds: Ricky Lee Jones – Evening of my day