A while back I said I would start a series about blogs in my blogroll and why I have them there. A type of explanation as to what I like about bloggers in my neighborhood, because I feel they deserve not only more attention, but to know why I appreciate them so. This will be my first entry in the “Who are the Bloggers in your neighborhood” series. Each post will focus on two blogs starting from the top (alphabetical sort of) where it says “blogolas”.
First blogger on the list is Indiana’s own Mr Hugh of Three Bed Two Bath, a blog titled after an advert of the house he was buying or sold, can’t quite remember which. I also don’t remember exactly how I found 3B2B, but I do remember that in early 2004, when I kicked blogging into high gear, I took notice of this blogs honesty and writing that simply appealed to me. I later came to realize we don’t share similar politics, or views on many things, but I wasn’t looking for someone I agree with. I like this blog for its stories and simplicity. And I mean simplicity in the greatest sense of the term, a good guy with daughter #1 and #2 and the wife who occasionally guest blogs. While I may not read it with a fine tooth comb, I definitely browse it regularly, as I have for over a year now, and will continue to do so.
Second blogger on my list, and a true blog celebrity, is internationally celebrated The Accordian Guy, Joey Devilla. Funny thing, a case of one of those bloggers who I’ve never spoken with, but know much about his life. I enjoy the fact that he plays accordian, and I like following the course of his life, including his job with Tucows and his beautiful relationship-soon-to-be marriage with another blogger. Add to this the fact that the Accordian Guy lives in the greatest city in Canada, Accordian City (toronnnno), and there is little doubt why he’s immensely popular. He often posts audio and video specials for his readers, and my favorites are when he posts video of himself playing accordian in the middle of a street festival somewhere in Ontario. Most recently, Joey, being Philippino as well as Canadian, taught me all about those beautiful shirts – barongs. Even the title rocked “If Alternative Formalwear is Barong, I Don’t Want to be Ba-Right.” I definitely want to wear one around Amsterdam now.
So there you have it, the first two reviews of the Bloggers on my blogroll. Go forth.. browse.. read posts.. dig through archives. As I’ve said before, they get my seal of approval for a reason — they appeal to my tastes as a reader and a weirdo.
Today’s Sounds: Al Pacino is yelling in that movie City Hall
It makes my heart skip a beat to see photos of him. I’m not making this up. I get hyper. It could be 3AM and I could be dead tired, but getting new photos of my nephew gives me a jolt of happiness that is like nothing else. I’m across the ocean, but I’m right there with him, y’know? And when I see those new and bright white teeth, and him standing up and almost walking, I feel just as excited as almost a year ago when he was born.
And you know I have this vision that when he’s old enough to read, he’ll be right here on uncle BM’s blog laughing and making fun of the sappy way his uncle used to talk about him. (laugh it up kid, you know you love when your crazy uncle from Europa comes to visit)
AudioCommuniqu? #25(mp3)
Sometimes, when I realize it has been awhile since I spent quality time with my love, I ride around town and take random pictures of her. Amsterdam doesn’t change all that much over time, canals, 15th century houses, bicycles, boats… repeat. Randomly insert ugly and occasionally interestingly designed buildings. But for me, 3 years into it, she never gets old. I could take that same picture of the keizersgracht, with its bridges lit up at night, over and over. And that’s exactly what I was doing after drinks and mexican with RocknRoll Amy, the bicycle repairess, and friends…. riding home.. stopping every few meters to “make 
And as usual, something happened. I noticed in the darkening sky that the night had not completely fallen, but I was indeed witnessing and smelling a huge fire. It was the nightclubby area known as Rembrantplein, and the nosey journalist in me decided to ride over the bridge and get a closer look. And sure enough, this is Amsterdam, there were tons of bikes stopped and onlookers were taking part in the international tradition known as rubbernecking. For those who don’t know the term, it’s when you just HAVE TO stare at an accident and wait as if something it going to happen which you need to see. 
And indeed things happened. I was enjoying the lady next to me who decided I would know everything about that building and why it was on fire. I played along, trying not to say too much to give away my accent. Told her it was the ABN building and the fire seemed concentrated on the ground floor. She trusted in me as a local, I could feel it! Then came the other middle aged male experts in business suits, yapping about what the firefighters will have to do. Just in front of the police baricade, an angry local wants to get by to get into his house or his favorite nightclub I guess. As he’s getting angrier, one of the horsey cops charges his horse into the poor guy. I was paralyzed… wanted to say “HEY WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” but then I pictured the horse charging into me, and I didn’t want to smell like horse, or be trampled, so I just shut up and watched with frustration.
Me and local dutch woman hung out a bit more, she with her camera phone, I with my digi, we snapped shots as if we both had photoblogs in need of material. Hmm.. maybe we both did? Anywho, just as the orange flames began bursting towards the emergency crews a cop told us in both Dutch and English, in case we’re tourists, that the air quality was unsafe and that we stayed there at our own risk. I love this city… 
mr. president says he wants to stay in power til he’s a hundred.