|
Monday, January 20, 2003 Had to send something off to the States today. Woke up early (after getting to bed real late – bleah!), dragged my little butt to the gym. Afterward, grabbed the Metro to a station that's a 5-10 minute walk from here, Alonso Martinez, to go to a nearby post office (oficina de correos). I walk there from the station, the p.o. building turns out to be closed down, locked up, dark. I find myself standing in front of it, confused, mouth hanging slightly open, wondering if today's a Spanish holiday of some sort I hadn't heard about. Then I note a sign hanging on the inside door stating that this post office has closed -- as in for good/out of service -- referring people like me to some other ones, none of which were close by. Turned around, came home. Will go to the main post office tom'w, a 10-15 minute walk from here, in a huge, beautiful old building with turrets, flags flying, the whole wazoo. Grand as all get-out, and kind of fun for that. Elections are going to be happening here soon and the campaign season began this last weekend. The head of the current center-right government made a major speech promising less taxes, more security, better standard of living (he left off the part about skyrocketing budget deficits) – one may have nothing to do with the other, it just felt strange to hear that on last night's news then run into an example of shrinking public resources today. With that closing, this barrio now has no post office. The barrio of Salamanca, east of here -- Madrid's swanky district, where my friend Jaime lives -- has several, including three within about a three-square block area. Hmmmmm. On the other hand, I got to the neighborhood churrería shortly after that, this time -- attempt #3 -- they had the goods! Major heaping piles of both churros and porras! Scored five porras, polished off most of them off as soon as I stepped in the door of my piso. Ahhhhhhhh, yeah. Then later, went back to the movie theater I was at yesterday, intending to see the film I'd intended to see yesterday, pre-ticket-mix-up. Went into the right theater, sat in a comfy seat, eavesdropping on nearby conversations – not difficult, given that Spaniards tend to blab at endearingly loud levels. Sat through ten or so minutes of pre-film ads, then sat through the film itself. There's a certain kind of movie you will only find over here. A bastard-offspring-of-Fellini/Bergman kind of affair, often from Italy, though not always. Heavy, serious, earnest, sometimes leavened with ironic humor, sometimes not. Generally well-shot, well-acted, with seriously convoluted story lines. Like this one – "My Mother's Smile." Paranoia, intrigue, a collapsing marriage, existential questions, moral hypocrisy, an affair with a beautiful woman, the machinations of an emotionally corrupt Italian family attempting to get their mother sanctified for entirely mercenary reasons, a plot that wandered through all sorts of odd scenes and dark corners, yadda yadda yadda. With moments of intentional laughter and a few of the more unintentional brand. Now that's entertainment – I wouldn't have missed it for anything. And speaking of intrigue, last night's game between two of Madrid's three fútbol teams – Real Madrid and Atlético Madrid -- ended in a 2-2 draw instead of the trouncing (by R.M. to A.M.) that many were expecting. Many – including the players and management of Real Madrid – are blaming the outcome on flagrantly incompetent officiating, and today's papers were filled with articles about the game and blissful, extensive coverage of the loud, roiling display of post-game outrage/disbelief. This is akin to a Yankees-Mets match-up in which the Yanks clearly expect to flatten the boys from Shea Stadium -- for nine innings, both teams whale away at each other, the Mets making a scrappy, desperate show of it, hanging on by their fingernails the entire time; the umps make a string of controversial calls that swing the impetus of the proceedings back and forth between the teams, finally permitting the Mets to tie the game in the last minute of play. And extra innings aren't allowed. Imagine the fuss in NYC after an event like that. Serious fun. Ah, life – I do enjoy Planet Earth's ongoing show. rws 3:40 PM [+]
Comments:
Post a Comment
|