Update to Arles Update, Largely Involving Bobby Hill

I was slightly let down by my last post. Hopefully this redeems me.

In addition to eating and reminiscing about the genius that is Bobby Hill, we have actually done / seen stuff! What kind of stuff? How about the city of Gordes?!

How about the Abbaye Notre-Dame de Sénanque?!

Yes, if these pictures look old / weird it's because I'm messing around with the iPhone's fancy schmancy filter settings! I am very sorry to any actual photographers in the audience that actually know how to take real pictures sans Siri gimmicks.

Culinary Update from Arles

I have no idea what day it is blog-wise as I'm on holiday thoroughly enjoying bread, wine, and cheese. This is surely a valid excuse. Surely.

And the charcuterie. Oh the charcuterie. Specifically the saucisson pictured at the top right of this plate of delicious meat products.

Again, this blogger app is terrible so you probably can't see it in all of its cheesy meaty glory. Yes, cured meat fans, this combines delicious cured meat with Roquefort cheese. France is awesome. If I stay here much longer, gout will surely set in. Cue Bobby Hill in a Rascal.

Au revoir! 

Day 573 - C'est la vie

Tomorrow we head to France. Frankrig.

Will I bicycle around Paris with a mustache on my face and a baguette in my basket? Probably not. I'm ashamed that I cannot find EVEN ONE of the many Conan clips where he does THIS EXACT THING. Just imagine if you will. Conan is exhausted and embarrassed by my lackluster searching and my lack of creativity.

 I'm sorry Conan. So Sorry.

Day 571 - No Shoes? No Shirt?

No Problem!

I made this extra-large so you would extra-enjoy it! 

Danes have a serious problem with respecting personal space in places like lines, the metro, elevators. Stop the presses, we might have a serious solution! Just lose that shirt! Look how far back the guy in the camo shorts is standing! Did I use enough exclamation points?

Note, snagging a picture of the shirtless middle-aged man at the grocery store stealthily is both weird and difficult. I didn't feel very good about it at the time and I feel somewhat worse now.

Day 564 - T Shirt Wacky

It's always fun to see the random Dane wearing English language shirts. Often they contain random profanity! Yay!

This morning I saw a 50-ish / 60-ish man wearing the always fun;

What Happens 
in This Shirt 
Stays in This Shirt

I can only imagine what's happening in that shirt, because sadly, I will never know.

This afternoon at work I saw the also always fun;

D.A.D.D. 
Dads Against Daughters Dating

If it did nothing else, it reminded me of this.

We got new clothes from the donation bin! I'm a surfer! 

Look, Daddy, Todd is stupid and I'm with him!

Day 563 - METROSUCK

Today began some sort of Metro servicing / construction that renders the run from Frederiksberg to Vanløse useless. I don't know how long this will last. The replacement is METROBUS. METROBUS is terrible. Oh let me count the ways...

One! Ah ah ah ah ah! METROBUS is slow! So slow!

Two! Two terrible things about METROBUS! METROBUS is crowded!

Three! Yes THREE terrible things about METROBUS! Major major major pedestrian traffic around my apartment. All of those folks that used to ride the Metro? Now they're on METROBUS. And now they're above ground. And now they're everywhere. And it is terrible.

SHAKES FIST AT METROBUS! METROBUS.

Day 556 - People on the Bus

In 2008 I wrote the following thinking, hey, I should start a blog! This was the only entry! Lesson...I give up far too easily. Without further ado, the post no one asked for or probably ever read - completely unedited! Enjoy!


Every day I ride the bus to and from work. It’s cramped and usually uncomfortable, but it’s convenient and cheap. I find people watching unavoidable.

Hey look, there’s the lecherous drunk guy who details his sexual exploits to everyone on the bus! And over there, it’s the crazy guy who repeats the same nonsensical sentence over and over and over! And in the back, there’s those junior high school girls I’m terrified of, celebrating the latest ass beating they just handed one of their enemies at the playground!

Some days are more exciting than others. Today I saw someone less explosive, but no less interesting. I haven’t seen him in at least a few months. This is man in his forties, lunch bag in hand, NBA on NBC hat on head. Not once have I seen this man without this hat. This hat looks, or quite possibly is, brand new. I have no idea where one might get a new NBA on NBC hat, but I hope that John Tesh has an entire closet full of them. It’s really a shame if he doesn’t.

Does he clean it compulsively? Is it that special? If so, why? Does he just really miss the NBA on NBC? Is this a silent protest? Maybe this is one of those, ship the “Chicago Bears: Super Bowl XLI Champs!” tshirts to Ghana and perhaps no one will see them kind of thing.

If anyone else was playing people-on-the-bus today, I would be right-side-of-a-fat-lip-guy. Did he get in a fight? Is it a cold sore? Is it infectious? Let’s move down a seat.

Sadly, it was none of these things. I seem to have an allergy to – of all things – corn.

When I was a kid my parents took me to an allergy doctor, a petite aging Scot, Dr. Maggie Burke. Dr. Burke tested me against all sorts of contact allergens – mold dust, plants, animals, you name it. To summarize, the wee doctor pricked my arm with the allergen to be tested, waited half an hour, and measure the size of the bump on my arm as compared to a control bump containing no allergen.

At the end of my appointment, arms covered in obscene welts, I moped back to the exam room. In many cases it was difficult to discern where one bump ended and the other began.

“Looks like you’re allergic to everything. You should avoid the outdoors. You’ll need to come in every week and get some shots”. Nothing says cool like weekly allergy shots and an order to avoid leaving the house.

As a rule, I’ve always approached allergies with a grin-and-bear-it approach. “Hey, this is pretty uncomfortable, but I can sort of breath. At least I’m not dead”. This served me well for activities such as mowing the lawn, petting the neighbor’s cat, or going outside in the fall.

Peanuts, however, are a different animal. You know that thing that happens to people that touch Rogue when she’s not wearing flapper gloves? That’s pretty much me after accidentally eating peanuts, things made out of peanuts, or things that touched things made out of peanuts. I can’t breathe and it feels as though something is actively sucking the life out of me. Sadly, this does not pass on my allergy to others for their own personal enjoyment.

As I had never actually been tested for food allergies, Emily suggested that I be examined once more. What if I wasn’t allergic to peanuts at all? Was this completely in my mind? Did I even want to know? It is perfectly fine to have a body that attacks a Snickers bar with extreme prejudice. It is not perfectly fine to have a mind that tells your body that said Snickers bar is deadly poison and deserves a world class freak out reaction. And also, if it turned out that I wasn’t allergic to peanuts, should I just start eating them? After enough pestering, I agreed to set up an appointment.

This involved a similar skin test, this time on my back. My entire back looked much like my arm, as if it was attacked by a swarm of angry mosquitoes hungry for human blood. Each bump received a score from zero to four – zero being “fine, go ahead and eat it” and four being “may as well be cyanide”.

Peanuts. Four.

Huzzah! I’m not crazy! But there was more.

Almond. Three.

Brazil Nut. Four.

I always thought that I was also allergic to other nuts, the test seemed to bear this out. The doctor gave me a list, essentially a food family tree. The idea being that if you were allergic to one food, you were probably allergic to other closely related foods. Interestingly enough, peanuts are actually more closely related to legumes than they are to other nuts. So, if you’re allergic to peanuts, you would be more likely allergic to soybeans than say pecans. I think of it as comparing chimps to humans and monkeys. Chimps my look like they’re more closely related to monkeys than they are to humans, but they are not.

Hazelnut. Three.

Pecan. Four.

Cashew. Zero.

WTF, I can eat cashews? Do I even want to?

Chicken. Two.

Potato. Two.

Corn. Two

At this point, I’m dismissing everything that’s not a nut. Chicken? Really? I eat chicken all the time! Corn!! Potato!!! Is there any food more simple than a potato? How can I be allergic to a freaking potato? This is crap. I’m eating whatever I want.

Fast forward to now. Lately, I had this sneaking suspicion that the corn chips I love were conspiring to kill me. I’d eat them and then my mouth was itchy and my stomach uncomfortable. Too bad stomach and mouth. I still love you Tostitos.

Last week, I made some polenta. Shortly after eating it, my face went red and puffy. I looked like Boris Yeltsin. Today, half of my lip swelled to twice its normal size after eating the leftovers. This is a serious problem that demands scientific testing that I’m completely unwilling to do.

So for now, I’d like the people on the number thirty-nine bus to know that I am not one of the crazies to stay away from. Please don’t judge me. I’m helpful, friendly, and uninfected. I just ate some corn. Really, cut me some slack. This is totally not my fault.

Day 552 - 4th of July Amager Style

My friend Anders happily informed me that there would be a 4th of July party at the Amager Bryghus. Amager makes some pretty badass beer, and really any chance to experience Amerikanerdag with some Danes is well worth it. Also, note, that's pronounced AH-mah.

I met up with Anders, his friends, and our friend Scott at Ølbuttiken, an awesome bottle shop run by Anders' friend Morten. Great stuff on hand, good atmosphere, good times. Morten referred to my small kroner as "washers" - they have holes in them - and it forced me to try to share the David Puddy Kroner awesomeness but I failed massively. Sorry Morten. Sorry Larry David.

We had some beers and some cheese / cured meat from Spain / cheese / olives / homemade liver paste / etc. It was great. I thoroughly enjoyed both of my beers. Specifically the Wookiee. It made me want to break it down like Chewbacca.

Next it was a train ride to the brewery...except...the train was broken! The train we attempted to take goes all the way to Sweden - it's a shared Danish / Swedish endeavor. According to the train staff, the Danish system was failing this Swedish train. Scandinavian squabbles! We sat on the tracks for about 20 minutes. This should have been an eight minute trip. The sent us back to the central station and we finally grabbed another train.

Finally, we made it to the brewery!

Yes, in case you didn't notice from my terrible photo, Amerikanerdag involves classic cars! It also involves rockabilly!

It also involves delicious beer!

Favorites of the day were No Rice & Curry and Shadow Pictures Double IPA. Shadow pictures was ridiculously good. I split a 12-case with Anders and I should have gone all Shadow Pictures. For shame.

I learned that until recently, it was illegal - without permit, and it might still well be illegal - to fly any flag other than the Danish flag. America. F&*K YEAH.

Afterwards, we hit Fermentoren - literally The Fermentor - for some nice beer garden chill. This place was great. Solid tap list. Solid prices, but really, the outdoor seating sold it. Perfect.

Thank you fellow travelers for an excellent day.

Day 551 - Storm in the Clouds

Emily's trip from Boston to Chicago took far too long. Here's a fantastic look at the why.

Day 550 - The Joy of the Underdog

America / Americans - often rightly so - face so many sorts of big-ugly-American stereotypes abroad. We're the biggest. We're the baddest. We know it. Absorb our culture at your own peril. You know you want to. If you don't want to, we'll happily do it for you.

It's rare that we receive underdog status, particularly in international competition. But then there's the World Cup.

Last night I watched some sketchy pirate feed from the BBC of the USA / Belgium match. Great, agonizingly terrible, but still great, match. Soccer is one of the few realms where we're not even in the conversation.

The English commentators, time and time again called out the American's grit and determination while we held on for dear life against a vastly superior, skilled squad. These were likely backhanded compliments, perhaps not. I'm taking them. I'm taking them well. They capture nearly all of that cliché that is America. We will outwork you. With whatever substandard flotsam we have. Git. R. Done. I'm more than mildly embarrassed by typing this. Mildly is putting it mildly.

That idea of America may not ring true today, but it's nice to think that it does. Hearing USA USA USA bouncing around the stadium as we attempted to rally back in extra time, well, it was great. Reports stated that about 30% of the audience were USA supporters, 10% Belgium supporters, and 70% other. That other...I'd like to believe that, based on the noise of the crowd, they were all-in for USMNT.

Country didn't matter. Policy didn't matter. American greed and arrogance and excess and obfuscation didn't matter. What mattered is that the US was over-matched and yet continued to work. Scratch and claw and grind and grit and grit and grind and etc. The audacity! Everyone loves an underdog.

Day 549 - When Blogs Collide

Our good friend Kevin will be blogging about his upcoming adventures in London, Europe, and then, eventually Kenya. You can check it out here. It's a very cool program. Wish him luck.

We're happy to have Kevin visiting us in the KBH at the end of the month. Blog-duel perhaps? Fun times ahead.