Edinburr-uh

Edinburgh textural intersection

It's been a very not-summer-like June in the Netherlands. Dutch people I've talked to just respond 'for how many Junes have you lived here?' Apparently, 50-60F and rainy is pretty typical. Other than for roughly a week in late April (or was it May...), we haven't had much of a semblance of summer. Of course, once it does eventually get sweltering (we had about a week of unbearability last year), I'll just miss the cool dampness. But along with an actually hot summer come elements I'm currently missing: more outdoor meals, 'beat the heat' cool and fruity drinks, regular shorts & sandals-wearing, etc - all things that help you appreciate the passage of time: you must go through a 'proper' summer in order to properly appreciate the transition to fall and winter. If you don't experience the hallmarks of the stages of the overall cycle, then you just end up feeling out of sorts - disjointed - like you slept through something important and regretted it later.

And to 'get away' from this current non-summery climate, where did we venture? Scotland. Perfect. Good thing the trip wasn't actually intended as any kind of escape; rather, it was just, we've wanted to visit Scotland and this was good timing to do it. Three-day weekend, decent airfare, available b&b. We got pretty much what we expected: rain, mist, other degrees of mist and rain, but also delicious whiskey, cask ale, hard cider and hardy comfort food beyond our most stereotyped dreams.

No Rick Steves this time, either. Portugal was great with Mr. Steves close by our side, dictating many of our stays, eats and doings with his pithy and experiential advice. But for the better part of three days in a country that for the most part speaks English, we figured we'd be fine exploring on our own.

So explore we did, spending most of our time on foot, outside, trying to avoid getting sucked in to the super touristy attractions along the 'Royal Mile' of heavily trafficked street between Edinburgh Castle and the Queen of Scotland's residence.

As always, we did some pretty solid food tourism. Katie tried some prepare haggis (with a cracking Pimm's Cup, no less) for lunch one afternoon, while at the same meal I went for a lamb shank shepherd's pie (mated to a tasty pull of Brewdog's 'Alice Porter'). Consulting our handy whiskey bible, we sampled a couple scotches that we'd only ever read about and aren't likely to find (at least as cheaply) in the NL or US.

One of Katie's favorites was the lighter Dalwhinnie 15 year old, while I really enjoyed the heavier, spicier (but not too heavy or spicy) Glenlivet 18YO. A true find, though, was not a scotch, but a limited edition bottled beer: the Innis & Gunn (local Edinburgh crafter) Canada Day 2011 Scottish Bourbon Oak Cask-Aged Beer. In addition to being a pain-in-the-mouth to order at a bar (fortunately, we were seated and I could just point to the menu), it was incredibly tasty. Consistent with whiskey barrel beers I've had before, it was dark, rich and robust, imparting plenty of sweet, smoky bourbon flavor without being overpoweringly boozy. It struck a great balance of its parts, which I think spells success in any drink.

But back to the city: yes, we did more than just eat fried food and drink whiskey. We saw the street where Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was born, climbed lush hills, wandered through ancient parks, gardens and cemeteries, chatted with a precious gem excavator/jewelery designer-street vendor who lives in an actual tree house outside of Edinburgh, strode through a vintage Bentley car show, spoke of buying kilts and other tartan accessories but never followed through on the threats and reflected on how bagpipes sound much better from far away than up close (which must explain the popular iconic imagery of a solitary piper on a bleak highland bluff).

Since I don't have that much space on Flickr yet, I've posted pictures from the trip on good 'ol the facebook.

Less traveled?

We now interrupt your regularly scheduled Portugal programming. There are a few more days from the 'Week in Portugal' series yet to go and, believe me, they're on their way. If anyone reading needs instant Portugal trip recap gratification, here is a public link to one of my many photo albums on the Facebook. Should keep you busy for a while.

In the meantime, however, I just wanted to wax ever so slightly philosophical. This morning I went for a long run (1 hour is pretty long for me) into the large, grassy park just on the outskirts of Den Bosch called Het Bossche Broek. I've walked and run around parts of it several times, though my typical, shorter route just takes me around have of Den Bosch itself. But that's not important. Since I had decided it would be a longer run and I didn't have anything for which I needed to be back home at a certain time, I decided to follow some paths I hadn't been down before and explore a little more of the 'broek' (which actually means 'pants' in Dutch, but apparently has a different usage here).

Most of the paths crisscrossing the Broek are paved, though a few aren't - and seem like they may be less traveled by common recreationers because they more provide access to the grazing areas for cows and sheep than easy, flat, traversing. As I got to the back of the Broek (as it approached a major roadway on one side), I saw what definitely looked like just a service road of trampled grass leading straight into some trees. I kept on the paved path, even though I hadn't been on either before, and at the moment it reminded me of how basically every canned graduation speech I've ever heard has somehow referenced Robert Frost's 'The Road Not Taken'. More than almost any other time of the year, graduation time just gets me reflective.

What interests me, I guess, is what graduates are really supposed to get (and are actually applying) from that poem. Right, right, we all know the closing: 'I took the one less traveled by,/ And that has made all the difference.' What I remember from speeches is kids saying that this is a metaphor for not just taking the easy way out, that once we graduate from whatever institution we happen to be sitting in the large athletic arena of, the 'next stage' of life isn't going to be easy and so, rather than just sit on our laurels and coast through this 'next stage' like, presumably, every one else, we should go for the less common approach of digging in, grinding our noses and not slacking off ever, and ultimately we'll feel better about that course of action.

But it doesn't seem like just plain working hard to get ahead is so uncommon anymore. In fact, I can't say I know too many people in my generation I'd characterize as slack-offs or bums. Going somewhere is the norm. Don't get me wrong, I don't think people should stop going to grad school in droves or stop trying to rocket up their corporate ladders, continually striving to develop 'marketable skills'. I absolutely admire the sheer drive, motivation and execution I see in so many of my peers.

Maybe the message from Frost for grads of the moment is about taking risks. Entering a new phase of life is never without built-in risks. You can choose to venture after them or shy away and do something that seems more familiar. I certainly can't say that folks who go the law school route or the TFA route aren't taking risks. Those roads carry huge risks, not the least of which for the former are the risks of loss of sanity and financial independence, at least according to law school friends. But none of them has said law school wasn't worth it; quite the opposite.

I don't recall any outgoing seniors drawing this conclusion, but maybe Frost is saying that it's ok, actually commendable, to do something completely bat-shit crazy as you traverse, something people rarely do - really rock the boat or create something unique out of your action that's characterized by premeditated abandon ('I doubted if I should ever come back'). Because, like I said, forward progress to gainful employment and higher-higher education is much more the norm than it is 'less traveled' and certainly not 'not taken'. Not that there's anything wrong with that: I am DEFINITELY NOT taking a shot at anyone that may fit into one of the categories I've mentioned; NOR am I trying to indirectly boast that I think my decision to quit my job, move to Europe to follow my girlfriend and try my luck in a completely different career field is any better life choice to make or closer adherence to any of the interpretations of what we've so often made out to be an encouragement from Mr. Frost than anything my peers have done.

Maybe, Frost's poem just isn't cut out for a graduation speech. Maybe, there just aren't that many 'not taken' roads that lead to what most people set out to achieve when they graduate: financial, vocational, spiritual, domestic success - in a word, happiness.

I'm curious if anyone out there has any other thoughts about Frost's poem and how it relates to graduation, where folks go and what they do afterwards, and if Frost is actually trying to give advice, how should we follow it?

Fireworks?

Dan's hair was a little shorter

Happy Belated 4th of July! The holiday still means a lot to me, but I'll be honest, the day loses a lot of its charm and excitement when no one else around is involved with the celebrating. Like drinking alone. Besides spending the entire day relaxing on the couch with Katie and Season 4 of Dexter, a highlight was chatting with one of my best friends who is currently serving in Afghanistan. Through the Facebook. God bless technology, right? He wasn't in the field yet so had an opportunity to spend some time in an internet cafe on base, across from a TGIFridays. Sounds like a hard life. We didn't talk for very long, just some quick blurbs about this and that. But it was a little surreal to feel connection with him at the 'front', actually in the war. He wasn't doing anything special for yesterday, just getting on the road in/to Kandahar, I believe. He seemed nonchalant, just business-as-usual. It was both calming and frightening. I can't imagine going in to work in the desert in a humvee, in violent hostility. But I'm not him. It's not my job and it's not my war. I pray for him and the others. We wished each other a happy 4th, and happy Canada Day, and that was it.

A week ago - better late than never - Katie and I went to the city of Nijmegen, the Netherlands, for a second week of Summer concert festival. Previously it was 'Dirty Dutch vs. The World' dance-stravaganza (blogged it a couple posts ago) and this time it was 'Rockin' Park', a Sunday full of concerts. A couple big names: Ben Harper, Stereophonics, Rise Against, a little band out of Seattle named Pearl Jam. But we went for The Black Keys.

'I didn't realize how nerdy they are!' was Katie's first response to seeing Dan and Patrick walk out on stage. They were pretty signature: Mr. Auerbach in a western-check oxford shirt and Mr. Carney in a tiny vintage 'Ohio State Nat'l Champs' tshirt. And glasses. Yes, they looked a little nerdy. But nerds harbor some of the most angst in society. And nerdy angst is like lighter fluid for guitars and drums. These guys have been on fire for several years delivering soul-deadening blues-rock to the underground masses, though the world finally began to like them about a year ago. It's always bittersweet when a beautiful lesser-known group blows up but, greedily, I love that I could see them play in Holland.

The show was perfect. Their set lasted for an hour in the early afternoon of an unusually hot Dutch day. Everyone was already pretty dirty and sweaty, which is probably why folks didn't bunch up close to the stage like at the previous week's dance fest. It was nice to have space to rock out, mere feet from Mr. Auerbach himself doing the same. But the heat and grit went perfectly with their industrialized blues. Theirs is not a clean music, musically. And not necessarily fast. Katie remarked 'It's the kind of music you want to dance to somehow, but you just can't.' You can only bounce, juke and nod your head.

Theirs is the great-great-great grandchild of the Devil's music. Inspired by Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Junior Kimbrough and the like: the soul of gospel with the driving repetition of slave songs and the profound hurt of love gone bad; The Black Keys electrify the sounds of their founding blues fathers in a simple yet full way that just makes your soul heavy. Which happens to be the name of one of their songs.

They played a great mixed set, opening with half a dozen tracks from various albums. Later they were joined by a keyboardist and bass player to run down some tracks from their latest, Brothers, then closed out with another half-dozen with just the pair again. No encore, no stupid dialogue with the crowd, just filling up the whole hour with as much rock as possible. Later, from the beer table we saluted them, souls on the floor.

Pictures on the Facebook!

As seen in previous posts I haven't yet found a way to post pictures any larger than a few inches square. The Facebook is a little more friendly with space so I'm going to continue loading images there and publish the public link here. That said, I'll make sure to keep including appropriate and necessary visual aids actually on this page.


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