One thing I especially appreciate about this part of the world is the beer garden. What can be better than sitting at a picnic table, under the shelter of chestnut trees, gently downing a beer or "pivo", enjoying an evening breeze on a warm night, and engaging in conversation ranging from types of dogs to Monster Truck "Sunday, Sunday, Sundays" to the current fad of bringing pet rabbits to restaurants and bars near Old Town Square?
I'm really enjoying the convenience of my current apartment. This is coming from a girl who lived in Hoboken NJ and was intimately familiar with the late night schedule of the PATH train from 33rd St and Christopher Street. Let me tell you: it was brutal some nights; waiting for the PATH rivaled a trip to the dentist in terms of pleasure. When I worked in Manhattan, absolutely NO ONE wanted to make the trek out to Frank Sinatra's stomping grounds. No... we had to cajole and offer rides to our parties and dinners. Of course, it all worked out in the end...friends did eventually come. Never forget that classic American baseball flick, Field of Dreams. I can tell you it is true: Build it and they will come. I still miss the breath-taking view of lower Manhattan from Pier A and B in Hoboken, but it sure did take a whole lotta effort.
But, back to convenience. Get this: I live less than 3 minutes walk from a happening beer garden, Riegrovy Sady. I don't need to stand in line at the port-a-pot. I do love my ability to walk almost anywhere in center city Prague. It's fantastic. As an American, to drive down free-ways, with the windows rolled down, and jiving to one's favorite tunes blaring in the background is the mark of freedom, but I'm a firm believer that to be car free and with happy feet is the true liberty!
Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The Whiz Kids are it Again in Washington
A record 288 young bucks or brains rather are at it again in Washington, D.C., competing in one of our most cherished American traditions: the Scripps National Spelling Bee. (http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080529/ap_on_re_us/spelling_bee_5)
Looking at the likes of words such as “ambuscade”, “Manhattanese”, “pinyin”, “eidetic” makes me wonder if I still have it in me. I'd like to think the answer is yes, but, man, do these kids today blow my socks off…
For those of us nerds - yes, I am lumping myself in that camp - an all expenses paid trip to Washington, D.C., including air travel and 5 days at a luxury hotel with a parent or guardian was the ultimate reward and satisfaction for enduring other kids’ wise cracks, teachers making a spectacle of you in and out of class, endless nights of falling asleep to tapes of yourself spelling out words, and evening after evening at the kitchen table with the monster of all monsters: Webster's Third New International.
It is hard to believe now in my early 30s, but competing in the National Spelling Bee was a monumental event – a turning point – at the age of 11. For the first time in my life, I realized that if I worked really, really hard, I achieved pretty darn good results and could actually go places. No offense to Binghamton or Chenango Forks Middle School, but the Scripps National Spelling Bee truly opened a door to the wider world not just of unchartered cities and geography, but of opportunity. I was simply so excited to experience life beyond the Southern Tier of New York.
So, what did donning my lucky pair of golden shoes (yes, I actually wore a pair of gold-tinged loafers through every competition) and living and breathing and SPELLING “radzimir”, “filiopietistic”, “ichthyology”, and “zymurology” to name just a few get me… my first ever airplane ride, a special dinner with Mom at Trader Vic’s, champagne brunch (also with Mom), fried bananas, bbq and a Fife and Drum Corp welcoming at George Mason’s estate, Italian with the WHOLE family at Filomena’s in Georgetown, Stephanie making pasta with the Italian ladies in Filomena's window … and the list could go on and on. Of course, eventually, there came “galvanneal” and “debabelization” and ultimately the fatal bell that led me to the "consolation room" where I was greeted by the warm and welcoming embrace of my grandfather and the rest of my Fetzko and Wyszkowski family.
What a ride it was and it is…
Thanks, God.
Looking at the likes of words such as “ambuscade”, “Manhattanese”, “pinyin”, “eidetic” makes me wonder if I still have it in me. I'd like to think the answer is yes, but, man, do these kids today blow my socks off…
For those of us nerds - yes, I am lumping myself in that camp - an all expenses paid trip to Washington, D.C., including air travel and 5 days at a luxury hotel with a parent or guardian was the ultimate reward and satisfaction for enduring other kids’ wise cracks, teachers making a spectacle of you in and out of class, endless nights of falling asleep to tapes of yourself spelling out words, and evening after evening at the kitchen table with the monster of all monsters: Webster's Third New International.
It is hard to believe now in my early 30s, but competing in the National Spelling Bee was a monumental event – a turning point – at the age of 11. For the first time in my life, I realized that if I worked really, really hard, I achieved pretty darn good results and could actually go places. No offense to Binghamton or Chenango Forks Middle School, but the Scripps National Spelling Bee truly opened a door to the wider world not just of unchartered cities and geography, but of opportunity. I was simply so excited to experience life beyond the Southern Tier of New York.
So, what did donning my lucky pair of golden shoes (yes, I actually wore a pair of gold-tinged loafers through every competition) and living and breathing and SPELLING “radzimir”, “filiopietistic”, “ichthyology”, and “zymurology” to name just a few get me… my first ever airplane ride, a special dinner with Mom at Trader Vic’s, champagne brunch (also with Mom), fried bananas, bbq and a Fife and Drum Corp welcoming at George Mason’s estate, Italian with the WHOLE family at Filomena’s in Georgetown, Stephanie making pasta with the Italian ladies in Filomena's window … and the list could go on and on. Of course, eventually, there came “galvanneal” and “debabelization” and ultimately the fatal bell that led me to the "consolation room" where I was greeted by the warm and welcoming embrace of my grandfather and the rest of my Fetzko and Wyszkowski family.
What a ride it was and it is…
Thanks, God.
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