The Emirates

September 30, 2009 | Filed Under Main | 2 Comments

At the end of another tour of the offices out here. Four seminars in three days. I may be saying goodbye to Dubai this afternoon. I haven’t been in Dubai in nearly a year and our office is but a shell of what it was. Had dinner at Waxy O’Connor’s last night (great food!) and may actually take the Metro to the airport. My room at the Burjuman was brilliant as always. Still a bustle of people out there and in the mall. No outward signs of the collapse are evident. But looking around our ghost-like office gives a pretty stark reminder.

So – off to the airport. And then….

Non-sequitur

September 26, 2009 | Filed Under Main | No Comments

Just read where some new dirtbag – who was a former contestant on some heinous reality show – killed his girlfriend in LA. One description of him is as follows:

“R. was involved in ministry as a mime and did “some evangelistic types of entertainment,” Schoonmaker said. He did not know when or where R. performed.”

An evangelical mime? I do not have enough imagination to envision that… nor do I want to…

Ikea

September 24, 2009 | Filed Under Main | 3 Comments

I went home for four days and went to Ikea three times. Does that sound logical? Flew 6,000 miles – through a number of times zones – to make the half hour/forty minute each way drive down the Jersey Turnpike three times. And since it is right next to the airport, you can almost look on it as if I spent nearly half my time home at the Newark International Liberty Hallelujah God-Bless-America Airport.

Yet I saw no football and only drank two beers. I could cry…

However, it was all for a good cause. On Saturday morning, I picked up the cargo van I had reserved and my son Chris and I went out to buy new furniture for his bedroom. And frankly – it was necessary. Surprisingly, he is nearly twenty years old (don’t ask me how) and his bed sits on a fold-up frame and each of his dressers are something Kerry and I had in our bedrooms when we were kids. And since occasionally he has friends over and isn’t living off campus in some loft on the lower Eastside that he’s paying for (yet), he really wanted something that matched and looked nice. Fair enough. Happy Birthday!

The shopping was fun and it was great to hang out with him. I’ve never watched him shop before. I haven’t seen him much at all during these weird years. He’s growing up and that’s a different dynamic. One I would like to be more a part of. Plus – I wouldn’t have to lift boxes by myself. We picked out two dressers, a bed frame and three book shelves (VERY heavy stuff). Then we made it home in time for him to shower and get to work. Sunday was the big Construction Day… after Chris cleaned out his room. Which took a good three hours since he had not even BEGUN to prepare for the onslaught of new furniture. It was three o’clock before we even opened a box. I thought we would start with the bed frame because it seemed simple and I could move the box-spring and mattress out of the hall. We made it all the way to the last page of the instructions… when we noticed this big piece missing. The center support did not come with the box.

And of course there was only one thing to do at 4pm on a Sunday in the middle of a piece of furniture – run back to Ikea to get the part. So – I jumped in my car. MY car. My 1993 Saturn SL1 which has been sitting in the driveway right where I left it three months ago. This is an old car – the first I ever bought with a car loan – but it is very reliable. Even drove it to Maine and back in 2005. I brushed the leaves and twigs off and disengaged the cobwebs around the door and took off. I stopped once to drop in some gas and again to wash three months of weather off the windows.

I must say that I did notice the battery light was on. But the Saturn had a number of idiot lights and one more didn’t phase me. I just figured it was mad at me for not taking it out more often. However, just before I hit Elizabeth, the radio started to cut out. The windshield wipers moved very slowly. Then the radio went dark… which I figured was a bad thing. I made it to the exit just as the gages started to flail about. Through the toll booth – I started praying. But I hit the red light at the top of the street toward Ikea and my little Saturn hit the wall and stopped dead. At least I was off the highway.

I had called home earlier to say this might be my fate, so Kerry was already in touch with AAA. Sitting off on the side of the road, I waited for the tow truck as planes flew overhead and the sun started to fall. While sitting in the tow truck an hour or so later, I saw no less than four billboards with the face of a cute little girl, an 800 number and a suggestion that you donate your used car. Time can be a harsh mistress – whether you’re a car or a collie.

Of course, the mission was not complete. Chris put together the rest of the furniture on his own (and they don’t seem to need an ‘allen-wrench’ anymore). But Kerry and I drove back out to find that we have to buy the center piece separately.

For $10.00.

Read that last line carefully. My tolls almost came to that. Ikea killed my car.

Schiphol

September 18, 2009 | Filed Under Main | No Comments

The flight home was on my dime, so we were flying economy. I got to Kuwait Airport about 3 hours early to be sure to get a parking spot (which were plentiful it turns out). However, it took me at least an hour to get through the lines at security. The airport was packed with travelers and their well-wishers. Everyone leaving on a trip had at least five people seeing them off and the airport security had to continuously move them back so you could tell those traveling from their entourage. In other words – the line was long (and not filled with Kuwaitis). The one thing you learn here about third world nations is that they are often crowded together, so there is no sense of personal space. It was literally skin to skin in the line, with many of them covering their mouths or wearing masks for fear of the dreaded “swine flu”.

My first destination was Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport. We arrived approximately 5:30am. I had choosen a seat on the plane near the window, hoping to snooze against the cabin wall. But there was a power box under the seat in front of me so I couldn’t really find a comfortable position. And since I wasn’t in business class, I didn’t have access to the KLM lounge. However, Schiphol has a couple of areas on the second floor where there are groups of lounge chairs for stretching out and napping. I had a five hour layover and my favorite bar/restaurant was still closed. I found my place in a bank of chairs facing the runway and went to sleep.

When I woke up – little over an hour later – it was light out. I was in the back row and I took my time reaching full awareness. I stared ahead – taking in the light, the movement, the horizon. I caught a glimpse of movement ahead of me – in the front row. These chairs (a bad term – they were more like isometric beds) were grouped in twos with a small Lucite table in between. I watched a hand with a small makeup brush reach over toward the chair next to her and brush something on the other person’s face – very delicately. Then the brush withdrew and a pencil appeared. After moving the other person’s hand away from their face, the pencil was applied. Turns out I was watching a women apply makeup to her mother, who was lying next to her. After the pencil came lipstick. It was an amazing and touching act to watch. A very private act. There are a lot of people and a great many stories around you in an airport such as Schiphol. It is a hub of many destinations and quiet moments such as that are always happening if you watch.

When I decided to finally move, I went over to my restaurant. An hour or so earlier it was closed. Now it had many patrons. And at 8:30 in the morning, I ordered ham and eggs and a pint of beer. That, my friend, is the breakfast of champions! Starting my second beer, a man even groggier than myself sat down and proceeded to try and figure out where he was and what he wanted. He turned to me – as if to apologize – and said he had had too much to drink the night before and was a bit out of it. No problem – most of us are in an airport that early in the morning. After a while he asked me where I was from. I told him the US but that I had been working in Kuwait. He smiled and said he was Canadian and was working in Libya. For an oil company. The majority of westerners doing this gig are working in oil or for the military. He had just come off his contract, which is the reason for over indulging the night before. From what he was saying, Libya is just as dull as Kuwait. Kindred spirits can always be found in a proper pub. Remember that.

With an hour to go, I walked through the shops, but I have seen it all before. In fact, every airport sells the same crap and for the same prices (trust me – there are no bargains in Duty Free). For the casual flyer, these are really nice places and have a lot of fun things. On your fifth time through… not so much. But I liked Schiphol. It’s much…warmer than Frankfurt and not nearly as pre-packaged as London. If you have to layover for a few hours, it’s one of the better airports. As I got to my gate, all I could think about was getting a better seat than the first leg of the trip. Miraculously, my wish came true! Somehow – I got bumped up to business. It was just like when people get their seats upgraded at Springsteen concerts. A mystery. And let it stay that way.

Fly Me

September 16, 2009 | Filed Under Main | No Comments

I believe Brian Eno had an album called Here Come The Warm Jets. His original title was “Here Comes Some Bad Jetlag”. See? Not nearly as catchy. Two days for the Eid, two days for the weekend and two days vacation is just enough time to wrangle a flight back to New Jersey. And two of those days are spent in a airplane.

oh well… It will be good to see the family and the neighborhood again. It’s been a long summer.

Thursday, Part 2

September 11, 2009 | Filed Under Main | No Comments

Let’s stroll through the Q tonight, shall we?

First off- Kuwait stinks. I don’t mean metaphorically. Literally. Stinks. A large portion of Kuwait proper is on the Persian Gulf (including shops, restaurants and where I work). And when the tide is out, the smell is akin to swamp gas mixed with burning oil products… only worse. So as I get out of the car near the Marina Mall, the first thing to hit my senses is the smell of low tide. But since this happens every day, you get used to it.

As I walk down toward the mall, past the beach, it is about 7:30pm. The night life is only just starting. The one truly active area is the skate board park, where boys with bikes, skateboards and skates practice their skills. They wear backwards caps, fist bump each other and listen to thumping Jay Z hip hop. It’s almost like home… There is a skirt of restaurants just outside the Marina Hotel and that is where my fish restaurant is. Since it is only 7:30, there is only one other table occupied in the place. My guess is that by 10 this place will be hopping. I have eaten here before and both meals where very good – including an indulgent lunch one afternoon of a dozen oysters. There are no oysters tonight to my dismay (I have never found them again after that one time). But I settle on a salt-baked sea bass with “mashed potatoes”(served as a compressed hockey puck on the plate). It was fun to watch my server break the salt tomb the fish was encased in and deftly separate the meat from the bones. And it was very good – however I remembered why I rarely order fish when dining out. Haddock, sea bass, grouper or snapper – white fish tastes like white fish. With an interesting sauce – it can be lovely. On its own – eh. It’s good, it’s healthy… but it’s hard to be enthusiastic.

From here, I walk through the Mall to come out the other side. I pass Kuwait’s sad little Virgin Megastore on the way. A year or so before I came, this was your typical Virgin store – like those I have visited in Dubai or Abu Dhabi. However, someone saw something offensive on the cover of a DVD box one day and the place was shut down. When it reopened, it was a eunuch. Mostly toys and video games, the music selection is bleak and rarely sees new product. The same for the movies. And they take up little to no space. Maybe the size of a large elevator. That said I can still buy BOTH of Lindsay Lohan’s albums there.

I come out the Mall into the heat (about 85 degrees) and walk down the street. I have two destinations: my bootleg DVD store and Dunkin Donuts. For some reason, I have decided to make coffee for the first time since I have come out here and I felt like Dunkies. The store is past my video place and down the stairs. It is virtually empty except for the five people working the counter. It’s either still early or no one EVER comes here. The latter is hard to believe because they have cheaper donuts and Kuwaitis like their sugar products. Turns out they don’t sell bags of coffee, but they would grind up a pound of their coffee and put it in a bag. This is offered so quickly, I gather I am not the first Westerner to ask.

Coffee acquired, I head down to my video place. This is also the same store I bought all my tapes and all my CDs. I love this store and they know me by now. Since it is Ramadan, the store doesn’t open until 8pm and there are people in line for the first time I can remember. I start to rummage through their “catalogue”. For well over a year, I was reluctant to purchase the boots. My experience with New York and some I picked off the street here was not very good. But THIS store…! Trust me – Hollywood has no hope. I have seen movies just barely released on DVD copied nearly verbatim. And I have picked up movies still in the theaters in digitally streamed clarity. None of these have been “off the screen” and they are not edited (thank the Lord!). And all for $7 – what used to be the price of a movie. And I have popcorn at the apartment. Obviously, the place is not a secret because people kept streaming in and going right for the books. So I picked up five – including “Drag Me To Hell”, which I can’t wait to see – and started back to the Mall. Did I say I loved this store?

Sweating now because, well, it’s still hot and I’ve been walking and crossing the very busy streets without being hit. I go back through the Mall to my final destination – Krispy Kreme Donuts. The other part of my nutritious Friday breakfast. It’s a truncated selection from what I’m used to. There are no lemon-filled donuts and I’m fearful of the date-filled and pistachio-crème ones, but there is still a dozen filling the box. As I walk back to my car, it’s about 10pm and my fish restaurant is still not as crowded as Johnny Rockets. But the beach is starting the fill up and the adjacent park is as well. The sidewalks are filled with children and bicycles and ice cream/water vendors. The skateboard park is rocking louder than before (and the rap music has become more obnoxious). Still – for Kuwaitis the night has just begun. For me – it’s over.

Thursday

September 10, 2009 | Filed Under Main | 4 Comments

I’m going out to dinner tonight.

But where? Chilis? Ruby Tuesday’s? Applebees? who knows? The choices are… pathetic. And the thing is – I’m in the mood for crap food. It’s a TGI Friday’s kind of night. But – without beer? I don’t think I can do it. Some food only tastes good when the taste buds are mired in alcohol. I could go to one of the Indian restaurants, but I have learned one thing out here. I don’t know anything about Indian food. I don’t know what I’m ordering! Is it an appetizer or is it an entree? Is it bread or is it fruit? I don’t know. The menu was not specific. The last time I went, I think I ordered four entrees. Then, they bring you nibbles before the meal and many sauces. I tried them all with the various sauces, but I got the impression the waiters were giving me weird looks. Like I was doing it wrong. Hey – no one teaches you how to eat unrecognizable things! Or it could have been because I was the only person in the restaurant (I guess even 8pm is early).

Too much pressure on a full stomach. Maybe I’ll just do fish…

A Working Actor

September 2, 2009 | Filed Under Main | 2 Comments

There was another actor in my family. A real actor – a professional. His name was Wayne Tippit and he was my mother’s cousin’s husband (right?). Wayne passed away a couple of days ago at the age of 77.

Wayne was always a sort of touchstone for me – being an aspiring actor myself. Here was someone who made it – from our family – to where I wanted to be. And he was just the type of actor I wanted to be – a working actor. Going from job to job to job. He was one of those guys that you could see twice a week on different shows on different networks. Maybe you don’t remember his name – but you know that face. When I was really young, I probably met him once or twice at various family functions. But the one time I do remember meeting him was when he and his wife were in Boston and came to see me in some play I was doing. I remember it was hard not to be… stupid about the whole thing. Here was a guy I know who’s on TV! The hyperventilating was awful. A This-Could-Be My-Big-Break kind of thing, if only in the daydreams sweeping through my frontal lobe. But both Wayne and Carol were very gracious and friendly toward me anyway. Family – however distant.

And when I say Wayne was a working actor – I’m not kidding. His list on the IMDB (Internet Movie Database) is as long as my arm. Movies and TV going back to 1954 when he was a regular on the soap “The Secret Storm”. He’s been on “The Rockford Files”, “Baywatch”, “Seinfeld” and “Melrose Place” to name but a wee portion of 30 years of TV classics he was part of. Wayne also appeared in the films “JFK”, “Taps” and “Nurse Betty”. He often played detectives, doctors, and businessmen. My impression of his characters was – though occasionally crooked – they were always sturdy and dignified (though I can’t vouch for his voice-over work on the “Duckman” cartoons). It would have been nice to follow through on my own aspirations and acquired a fifty year body of work like his.

My deepest condolences to the family. Wayne – rest in peace.