MELAMED'S MEAGER OUTPUT

Whats your deal Melamed, where have you gone?

SIMPLE

I saw this editorial response from a reader and liked it. I don't know who is Bly.

Bly or Blyth?

I grew up in Madison, Minnesota. My school bus downshifted on the gravel road right in front of Robert Bly's familial home everyday for nearly twelve years. That area is my home and my people. I know them and I miss them. And far from what you imagine, they have plently of 'intellectual musings'. Far more than any genius found at Harvard or Princeton. Most of those folks don't need to contemplate anything any further than the end of their own grass and the gravel-covered driveway. They 'get' life. They just understand it without having to go to the farthest ends of the Earth looking for some way to explain it all. They just know it because they just do. Just because Bly didn't fit in isn't the fault of anyone out there. Those pointy headed intellectuals who feel they think 'differently' delude themselves into thinking they are the bright ones. Everyday, farm folks live their lives with just as much generosity, strength, savvy, and grace as you will see anywhere else you'd care to look. Those folks have more horse sense than all the intellectuals on Lowry Hill rolled into an oatstraw bale. Never underestimate the intellect of a farmer.

-Sue Conner Mills- Carver, MN

SO ABOUT GRANADA

Well let me say first that the ugly-urban-sprawl-depressing-I'd-rather-die apartment-complex-cookie-cutter American System has quite sadly spread rapidly to even the most quaint and historic Spanish cities. It's everywhere (at least in southern Spain); the centro commerciales, the four lane autopistas, the billboard skyline- everything except the green grass chemically-kept pathetic lawns seems to smell of a big old K-mart trend. Malaga was the worst of all- on top of half the population being sunburned seniors from Britian, the develpment was entirley depressing. I think even more so than here on Tenerife because Malaga has greenery and trees, so that the giant masses of dry chalky concrete seem even more unnatural covering what used to be eucalyptus infested forest and bushy undergrowth. Thats not to say that the places we visited were not breathtakingly beautiful- only that the full effects of old sectors of towns are dulled by what you've seen through the bus window on the way from the train station to the hostel.

My favorite place was Granada-perhaps because it had the strongest historic feeling to it- but also because of the awesome hostel in which we stayed. The Rambutan baby. My idea of the ultimate communal living space. First is location- it's situated half way up a steep hill overlooking the deep cut moat below and, at eye level across the drop, the impressive profile of the Alhambra Palace (Probably the most coveted of all arabic architectural masterpeices in Spain). Then there's the people...what a bunch of crazy interesting roamers, from Belgium, Germany, Ireland, Colombia, French Canada, Sweden, the list goes on. About half of them were University students taking a year off to travel Europe for a year. One couple told us about how they worked in Canada for six months, then left to travel the world for a year, using the money they had earned. Last year was Asia, this year is Europe, and next year is South America. All of us would gather around in the main room at the table and play risk or cards or exchange stories each night. The walls were covered with fascinating lines of grafitti and photos of former residents, the fireplace mantle stacked with books, and the air filled with light, sweet, smokey scent (hint hint, it wasn't tobacco).

I felt sort of a full circle effect being there. You see, much of my inspiration for this whole Spanish extravaganza of mine comes from the experience I had with my Great Uncle Bobby back in seventh grade, when I accompanied his school group from Boston on a seven day trip to France. I never forgot our three night stay in a hostel in downtown Paris, where the center terrace was filled each night with a crowd of students from all over the world. I hadn't felt that atmosphere again until last week at the Rambutan, talking with all of the travelers there, each on their own mission to see a part of the world.

And the three owners were hardly different from the clientel, moreover, half the people staying there were earning their stay by working for the hostel, so the cooperative feeling was really strong. Each morning and night you could order the daily home-made vegetarian dish, or, make your own food at one of the two little kitchen spaces.

I'm sure I'm leaving out all sorts of stuff (notably the incredable interior of the Alhambra which we gaped at for six hours straight that day), but I hope you get the overall idea of things. If you EVER are in Spain, I highly recommend traveling to Granada and The Alhambra and The Rambutan- it will be worth your while. Oh yeah, and the place cost a wopping $15 a night.

RAMBUTAN LINK

GRANADA PHOTOS

ALHAMBRA LINK

BACK ON BIG TEN

I'm sure that at some point I have mentioned some of the things I miss about my home in the land of ice and snow- Stan Jones, Music, flat land (for a change)-but it wasn't until recently when I returned from my ten day adventure traveling through Andalucia (in mainland Spain) that I had a chance to realize what I will so dearly miss about Tenerife when I leave at the end of June.

Flying over the mountains and city space which I have come to know so well, I suddenly got such a feeling of pride and excitement; like this is my home- I know this place-I can speak Spanish-I'm training in Europe! Being away from the language, my family, the ocean, my bike, and school gave me a much needed break. I got to step back and take a bigger look at my experience here- and I've felt a sort of renewed ambition to make the most of things and enjoy it while I can because when I leave my whole year here will fade into distant memory.

Virginia, the program director, spoke of our return to the U.S. at our reunion in madrid. She brought up and interesting point- which was that our first week home we will be big news; we'll be the novelty of the week. All of our freinds and family will want to know about our year in Spain. But after the initial excitement fades, life will sort of slide back into the normal swing of things. There isn't going to be anyone at home who can really identify with where you have been for a full year, who will understand what that time has fully meant to you. So thats another phenomenon that's given me a renewed dedication to making the most of things here.

Also, the two friends that I traveled with, Tobi and Amelia, had a stronger vocabulary and spoke better than I did in Spanish. (It doesn't help that Antonio insists that we speak English one week and Spanish the other). This pissed me off- which has given me a another spark of initiative to get things going. I've got to ask more questions.

So yes, I'm back. Yesterday and today were school-free because this week is Carnival, which is like Mardigras except bigger and crazier. The Carnival here is second in the world only to that of Rio de Janero (spelling?). I think tonight I'm going to one of the celebrations with Poli (we have to dress up like girls), and tomorrow with Carmen, Toño, and Pedro.

Monday I go back to school, three weeks later Lucy and Jac arrive for a week (there is no way I'm going to school then), the following week is free for Saint Week, and then I'll have about 5 weeks left of school. I get out about the middle of May and have about a month of beach time and bike riding que te cagas. Pops comes to meet me in Madrid, we travel around fro a week, and then its back to 3216 for the summer. So there's your overview.

ONE OF THE PRECIOUS CORNERS OF THE WORLD

I don't want to waste too much time here on the devil machine but I'm so sincerely happy in this location of the world right now that I just felt a need to write a quick little something about it. We're in the Rambutan Guesthouse of Granada in Andalucia, a city of breathtaking views (from the Alhambra to the grafitti on city lining city streets), tiny thin cobblestone streets, snow-capped mountains, and a rather progressive feeling about the place, an almost indectable feeling in the air.....I can't finish this now, I'm too excited about it all to write. I'll tell the story later! Tobes and I are going for a run now through the city center.

ON THE ROAD BABY

Well hello there my freinds, currently I'm 'en via' throughout the hills and villages of Andalucia, the southern province of Spain. Toby, Amelia and I are just rockin the town of Cordoba right now. Yesterday we saw the architectural masterpiece of 'La Mezquita', and then wandered through the tiny one way cobblestone streets of the old center, where our hostal also happens to be. Hostals are just so bloody wonderful here in Spain. Why anyone would ever need to stay in a hotel is beyond me. We payed 22 bucks each a night and put the ol head on the pillow inside some ancient restored old building that smelled delicious and was cleaner than I don't even know what. On top of that, the owners transferred the cable service temporarily from their own house above to our room (must have been magic) just so we could watch Valencia take on Real Madrid. In the end something was funny with the connection and it didn't work, but it was the thought that counted. Instead we crossed the street to the bar for a cold one spiced with a bit of lemon soda (which sounds groos but is a wonderfully delicious combo) and enjoyed the game with a bunch of crazed locals. What could be better? Yesterday was also a joyous day because now I know where the hell I'm going to college!!!!!!!I was in a running store (which I will always remember now) when I got the call on Amelia's cell phone from Antonio (my host dad) saying that I got in. I can't tell you where now, because I have to leave the supsense building up to the end of my little deal here. Read on jingus monkeys....

So anyway, my two travel partners and I embark today in train to go to Sevilla for the next couple of nights,which I'm sure will be just great.

And now some words from Tobias Jobber:

samwise gamgee. u´ve taught me so much in life: great vocab words.


pomona

A QUESTION

I was pondering during my navigation south on bicycle today what it means to be 'natural'. What at first appears to be a simple question of organization of substance evolves into a more meaningful ethical dilemma. The particular definition of ‘natural’ with which I am concerned implies a non-man made composition or process. I think this is a fair characterization of the word. The key to my definition is ‘non-man made’. This strangely excludes man from nature, insinuating that a man-made material is not ‘natural’.
Well I jumped from this to thinking about banishing the incompatibility of the phrase ‘man-made’ and ‘natural’. That is, theoretically moving all things ‘man made’ from a separate category into a possible subcategory of all things ‘natural’. So that leaves ethics as nothing more than a framework for the behavior of one type of species called homo-sapiens. So if you look at the cosmos from this sort of omnipresent, supra-human perspective, all the silliness of do this and that, politics, table manners, spaceships, bicycles, nuclear war or whatever it may be can all just seep into the mucky muck of the world as a sort of wonderful non-partisan existence.
For example, George Bush can blow us all to hell and it’s a natural occurrence in nature, just as a nuclear warhead is equally natural as a toadstool. To believe this, of course, one must believe that mankind is not separate from nature. But of course, being a human, don’t I have some sort of obligation to my own set of ethics, and therefore must I consider myself as something apart from nature. Are the two things compatible?
Re-reading this, I see that my idea is completely incoherent, my writing poor, and lots of other bad things are happening. It makes sense beautifully in my head, so I will work on this and try to express myself better some other time.

EXAMEN DE FILOSOFIA

Holy cow I got a 6.5 on my exam (out of ten), meaning I finally passed one. I also passed the first trimester re-take exam for history of spain and philosophy. Only about half the kids passed this bugger, and I had one of the best scores! YES!

BICYCLE POEM

Break-neck speed breaking the tape,
skimming the smooth street,
leaving behind a slim slime line of rubber
and the air a bit agitated with eddies.

TIME TO EVOLVE

I'm wicked tired of not being sufficiently accessorized. I feel limited, slighted, and unfairly equipped to face the demanding electronic world of ours. My cellphone has a camera which records sound, video, and stills, built-in internet searching and email capabilities, a GPS system (for emergencies, obviously), text messaging, a playstation, a freaking song catalog and stereo system so that everyone and his brother hears my mental music tastes everytime I get a call, AND most importantly an assortment of little colored covers so that my cell phone reflects my personality, because thats important. I'M MISSING SOMETHING HERE FOLKS! Say hello to the new, 'how did I live without that before' feature for your 'mobile device'. It will be called The Olfactory Sense Tracking and Recording Inter-Listing System, or 'NOSTRIL'.

I can already hear you saying that this is a useless bunch of garbage, but more features for your own personal connection to the world is never garbage. I thought of this brilliant idea one especially inspirational morning on the bus going into school. There was a smell that I immedaitely recognized from my childhood days. This smell was from the glory days of Sam Starr Jr., during the reign of his iron fist empire over little unsuspecting Jackie 'Poodie' Starr. These were the days when I took such twisted pleasure in convincing my little sis that her favorite cat (our dear Bellie, R.I.P.) was in fact severely mentally challenged, and enjoyed other perversions such as temporarily deforming the rubber head of 'Sally' into grossly disfigured shapes, at which point Jackie would begin to cry, because no mother likes to see their child's head squashed between the hands of a masked assasin triumphantly commanding the lawns of 3216 with 'Batman'-edition Converse All-Stars. Let us return to the smell. It was the exact smell of the carpet in the movie room of the day care that at one time occupied one of the spaces of Ridgehaven Shopping center, not too far from where you can now enjoy the authentic tastes of Chinese Cuisine at The Wanderer's Buffet. I know you don't believe in the powerful memory of my nose, but I promise that this is true. This was the daycare with the opening lobby dominated by the half-pyramid of carpeted steps leading to the summit which occupied the northwest corner of the room. To descend the little mountain, there was a plastic slide down the center of the steps. This was the pathetic attempt of the care service to distract the brats who attended from the fact that their parents really didn't want them anymore. To enhance the effect, behind the entry room was the movie room which had similar carpet-steps to the far wall for quality viewing of the giant projection screen at the opposite end. Jackie and I quickly discovered, however, (being the sick and deranged bro and sis pair that we are) that the most intriguing room was down the forbidden hall from the movie room, where all the toddlers had their pit stops. Jac and I had a good laugh about all the POOOOP that we saw before running back down the hall in time to evade the daycare staff. We were lucky to catch the last 20 minutes of 'The Land Before Time' on the big screen, just before 'ol Lucy picked us up. (Do you know that there is a Land Before Time 8 now? Come on people, enough with the dinasaurs). I dont really even remember what the carpet smell of those steps was like, I suppose I would have to smell it again to describe it. The important thing to take from this little story of ours, is that smells like that can make your day. I had such a fun bus ride thinking back to that wonderful day with my lovely sister. This is the justification for the NOSTRIL system; imagine being able to go places and record scents. I think the olfactory sense is too often overlooked. I get a far more realistic memory of my sailing trip to the British Islands when I smell my 7-year old empty sun lotion bottle than when I look at some cheesy photograph. So when NOSTRIL becomes available, make sure you're not one of those left behind.


DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT own or use a cell phone. Cell phones give you cancer, and are evil wastes of money. This was soley for the purpose of this story.