June 9, 2011

Things I've Neglected to Tell You: the German Expressionist version (you know, something with a circus, disfigurement, and disconcerting lurking)

As our time in Peru draws to a close, I realize how remiss I've been in my reporting. Thus, I am introducing a new series of posts entitled "Things I've Neglected to Tell You." Here is the first installment: the German Expressionist version (The working titles for future installments are Things I've Neglected to Tell You: things related to the radio, Things I've Neglected to Tell You: Half-O update, and Things I've Neglected to Tell You: I'm five months pregnant).

Act I

We went to a dog circus some months back. It was there in the parking lot of a frequented supermercado, and Half-O was intrigued. I'm not sure what I expected, but it wasn't:

Act II

The Archaeologist broke his pinky. He broke it hiking down from his site in the dark while carrying lots of equipment. He thought he had just dislocated it so had someone from his crew pull it out to set it. He had him try again. He then asked another crew member to give his askew pinky a pull and try to set it straight. Are you queasy yet?

A few days later he came home from the mountains with a swollen black and blue hand …and crooked pinky. It wasn’t just dislocated:

(and Half-O casts her solidarity)


Back in the beginning of 2010, The Archaeologist came down to Peru a month before we did to get going on a bunch of bureaucratic bunk and also find us a place to live. He found us a little house with a little yard for little rent.

A month later when we all arrived in the wee hours of the morning, we went straight to sleep, but the next day I got the tour and saw this:

It hangs in the room where Half-O sleeps (the other day I was asking where one of her toys had gone, and she said it was by Tom – it took me a while to realize she meant Tom Cruise). I figured I should finally mention/document it on the chance that, years from now, she moves to California and decides to try out a new religion where she needs to identify the traumas of her past … in, say, a dianetic audit, or something. The fact that she slept below this poster for over a year may come up. At the very least she can use it as an ice-breaker at the parties.

As for my Tom Cruise trauma: once, as a freshman in college, a guy came up to me in the cafeteria and asked if anyone had ever told me that I looked like Tom Cruise. It was unclear if he meant to insult or flatter me – or if he had had like a doppelganger eureka moment and was looking for confirmation. There was some Lost in Translation to it all too. I don’t recall any conversation following my “uh-uh” – I believe he left and my roommate and I returned our attention to Simpsons and our dinner. Oh – but later, I was relating the encounter to my aunt, and her response was “Well, he should have at least said Tom Cruise’s sister.”

March 19, 2011

We interrupt the regularly scheduled not posting anything on this blog for an overdue apology

So I don't recall why, but while The Archaeologist and I were talking tonight, I was reminded that in like 7th or 8th grade I rewrote the words to "Sounds of Silence" for a book report/project on 1984 . The Archaeologist, thinking I was just relating a random childhood story, complimented my bright idea. I proceeded to tell him that I then asked my dad to sing the new song into a tape recorder for me so I could then turn the tape in to my English teacher. The Archaeologist, thinking as the father of a daughter with a lot of my genes, looked at me with disbelief and a bit of horror in his eyes.

As all who are not 7/8th grade me can imagine, my dad was reluctant to do it. But as a kid I saw my parents do all sorts of unpleasant things all the time - plus, a lot of evidence seemed to indicate that they weren't prone to embarrassment. And he sang in the church choir ...and he kinda had a Garfunkel-fro back in the day - so no big deal, right?

Man, am I worried about the karmic comeuppance.

Especially because he did it. He actually sang a 13-yr-old's lyrics into a little tape recorder while the original played in the background knowing I was going to give it to another adult to listen to.

Since I haven't thought of this since Jr High, I've yet to apologize. The Archaeologist said I should make that apology a priority (and at some point in the story said that my dad better have a special place in heaven). So, dad: I am very very sorry! I now realize how much you really, truly, definitely did not want to do it. It is astounding that you did - knightly and selfless and frankly making me rethink trying to be like you as a parent because I so don't want to sing into whatever recording device is available 10 years from now to help Half-O with her school project.

(and no, I do not remember any of the 1984 lyrics - sorry. If, by chance, my Jr. High English teachers have found this blog and continue to read it despite my poor grammar, do one of you still have that cassette? and if so, could you please send me a transcription, and then destroy the tape for my dad? Thank you.)

January 22, 2011

The Seymour Chase Blog: Posting like it's Nov. 2010

I neglected to post about interesting or "interesting" events back in November and December. I plan to rectify that now - not as part of some New Year's Resolution to stop procrastinating or to be more organized. I'm not actually a fan of New Year's resolutions, except my sister Natalie's - but we can talk resolutions in March when I post about January. On to November:

My sister Natalie (of the good resolutions) came to visit for a couple weeks around Thanksgiving (which we didn't really celebrate - not because we're ungrateful or dislike the New World - I'm a Mayflower descendant - I love America - but The Archaeologist was up in the mountains and Nat had to catch a plane, so we ate at a gourmet sandwich shop - neither of us got a turkey sandwich). The visit was wonderful. We like when people visit us - you should visit us - especially those of you who live in Chicago and are currently concerning yourself with the very real possibility of frostbite if you leave your house without hat/gloves. Remember, it's summer here.

Likely the most post-worthy activity was our boat ride to some islands off the Callao port - one of which was teeming with sea lions - like thousands. As you can imagine (and I hope you are), it smelled awful. Then I donned a wetsuit and jumped in the Pacific Ocean to have a quick swim with them.

I believe the one furthest from the sea lions is me - though I thought better of that at some point - worrying that if I hung back too far, they might try to pick off the stray. In my defense, the sea lions were bigger then me and making all sorts of barking noises and defensive maneuvers to keep us from getting any closer to the island. They didn't want to swim with us, so I respected their space. It was pretty cool at any rate - less cool when I felt one swim below me.

And here's Half-O doing her best Kennedy-off-Hyannis-Port:

We did other stuff and there are other pics, but blogger or my connection is slow on the uptake tonight.

Next up: "Yule See"