Tuesday, September 20, 2005

Silence Speaks Volumes

Got one of those individual students that make the job such a chore. 27 year old guy; got absolutely nothing to say about anything.

He has no opinons whatsoever about politics or life in general. He never reads.

He rarely sees current films, and if he does he can't remember much of anything about them.

On those rare occasions when he doesn't work, he mostly watches TV, but can't remember what he watched. His job is some kind of sales involving industrial equipment. He thinks it's an okay job because it pays well, but can offer no examples of anything that he does that's interesting.

He has visited a few other countries with his wife, but seems to have no real strong feelings about them one way or the other. He describes them all as "so-so" and when asked why he thinks so, sits in silence staring at his book.

When asked why he wants to learn English, he says, "For my future." When asked about what he wants to do in the future, he says he doesn't know.

This is obviously a person who doesn't even need to speak ONE language, much less two.

X

Sunday, September 18, 2005

I Have a Knife

I have this knife, which I bought for 50 rubles at a market one time when I was drunk, wandering around with my friends. It's a real juvenile delinquent weapon -- a butterfly knife with a blade which has many wicked serrations. It's not especially sharp, but if you stabbed somebody with it, there would be a nasty wound indeed.

I don't carry it around with me, because I'm more afraid of being stopped by the cops than I am of getting into a situation where I need to stab somebody.

I like to play with it while I'm watching movies on DVD.

And people wonder why I never married. . .

X

Monday, September 12, 2005

Bet Ya He Makes It To The Median Strip

We went to a market in the sort of baddish part of town to look for a second-hand mobile phone. (That is, stolen.) Later we were walking around looking for a cafe. We saw a drunk stagger past; his clothes looks reasonably new, so he probably wasn't a bum, but he was covered with dirt and completely blind drunk. He staggered out into the middle of the street and fell down.

There were some cops nearby; they began laughing hysterically, watching as the drunk struggled to get up. A couple of cars swerved past him, barely missing him.

Finally he staggered to his feet and made it to the median strip and collapsed.

The cops laughed and shook their heads and got in their car and drove away.

Looking for some crime to fight, undoubtedly.

Thursday, September 08, 2005

The Real American Soul

It often happens that you end up, in Russia, sitting in somebody's kitchen drinking vodka eating sausage and pickles and whatnot, and people start singing. They know a lot of songs, these Russkies, and it seems like every damn one of them plays the guitar.

Then of course somebody eventually asks you, "So, sing us an American song, a traditional one that really shows the American soul."

I always choose "Freebird."

I can't really do the guitar solo, but otherwise I think I really rock.