runswithscissors: blah blah blah

far too much writing, far too many photos

Friday, February 08, 2008

Sitting in a lunch joint down the street from here. Seated at a small table to one side of the space, next to a cabinet that serves as the stand for the in-house T&V (the telly perched up top, scant inches from the ceiling, where everyone can see it). Now and then I'd look up from the newspaper I was paging through to see diners' eyes trained on the TV screen, faces expressionless, chewing a mouthful of chow.

On the other side of the cabinet, three 50-something manual workers sat at a small table, shirtsleeves rolled up, working on lunch and glasses of wine, arguing politics. Arguing and arguing, the volume steadily increasing, until one began pontificating loudly enough that everyone in the joint could hear him, voice hard and insistent, pounding the table now and then, going on and on, rolling right over what his companions tried to say. An adherent of the right side of the political spectrum, determined to flatten all other opinions, talking so loudly and stridently that his words cut through the ambient noise -- and that is saying something, given how intense the racket in a Spanish lunch joint can be. Around the space, conversation stopped, people standing by the bar with drinks in their hands turned and watched, mouths partly open. And I found myself remembering all over again why I do my best to steer clear of the political part of life -- I really don't enjoy most of what it seems to bring out in us, and being around all that does not leave me feeling joyful or mentally healthy.

The last couple of days here have brought mild temperatures, sunlight pouring down between buildings into the barrio's narrow streets. Mild enough that many walking the streets wear light jackets or winter coats left open (and by 'many' I mean, er, me). Days with the promise of spring on the way. A kind of weather that promotes easy breathing, relaxed walking.

Two days earlier, on a cooler, more seasonally appropriate day, I sat in a different joint -- a café in one the Madrid's nicer areas -- having a spirited chat with a friend, S., one of those conversations that veer all over the map, zig-zagging more erratically as the quantity of caffeine being guzzled swells. We sat a table in the rear of the place, absorbed in an exchange about... politics? gossip shows? the joy of life? something... when out of nowhere appeared a clown --in full make-up and clownish duds -- en route to the loo.

My companion, a smoker, had a cigarette going. The clown saw that, stopped short, hit S. up for a butt, then borrowed her lighter to get it going. I studied him as he lit up -- rose colored shirt, turquoise colored pants, both covered with sequins. Suspenders, big, floppy bow-tie. Full, classic make-up and wig, the only real departure from the boilerplate being a long, slender, pale nose instead of the usual round, red jobby. His serious expression gave way to a brief smile as he handed the lighter back, saying thanks, he then resumed course, disappearing into a short hallway that led to the bog.

S. and I exchanged a look, eyebrows raised, and resumed blabbing where we'd left off. At some point the clown passed again, making the return trip to the front of the shop where he grabbed a spot at the counter. A few minutes later, S. and I pulled ourselves together, paid up, headed out. Clowndude remained at the bar as we walked by, expression serious, cigarette jutting out from his lips, a strata of smoke around his head. I heard him exchanging a few words with one of the women behind the bar -- his forearms resting on the counter, shoulders hunched forward, sequined outfit glimmering -- and then we were out the door.

Clowns hanging out in cafés -- one more reason to adore Madrid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chinese restaurant, Madrid:

-- runswithscissors: as cute as a freakin' button.

España, te quiero.

does that mean you now hate Madrid?

# posted by

rws : 4:06 AM

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BLATHERINGS

August 2001
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June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
June 2009
July 2009

. . . . . . . .

MORE FOCUSED BLATHERINGS

Travels:
London '01
Pamplona
Italy '03
U.K. '03
Sevilla
Casablanca
Stoke-on-Trent
Barcelona
Québec/Ottawa
Boston/Lisbon/Madrid
Italy '04
Montréal
La Sierra

Events:
Madrid -- arrival
9/11
Emergency Room I
Holidays 2001
Holidays 2002
Holidays 2003
Holidays 2004
Holidays 2005
A neighbor's passing
Madrid -- March 11 bombings
  and aftermath
Emergency Room II
Israeli friend/Madrid Marathon
Madrid -- Royal Wedding
The DELE exam

GONE, a novel:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

THE BASTARD CHILDREN OF
JOE ROCCO, a novella:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3

BURBANK SHRUGGED,
a screenplay:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3
-- Part 4

Short stories:
Murphy's Wife
Another Autumn
La Queja de Una
  Hermanastra Muy Conocida

Autobiography
-- Personal History
-- Hormones On Parade
-- Accidents, Random Mishaps,
    Personal Problems

. . . . . . . .

OTHER SOURCES OF WHOLESOME ENTERTAINMENT

People/Weblogs:
dooce
foxvox
fudge it
fear not
rebekka
bookslut
802online
idle words
madhaiku
wockerjabby
grow-a-brain
rebel market
letting me be
out and about
kung fu grippe
fanatical apathy
baghdad burning
wfuv's music blog
kexp's music blog
mimi smartypants
between the miles
just a hippie gypsy
the impossible cool
tomato can brushes
vermont homestead
sugar mountain farm

Good Clean Fun:
gizmodo
futurismic
postsecret
dave barry
human clock
mcsweeney's
spaceweather
book-a-minute
internet archive
self-portrait day
my cat hates you
out of context quotes
surrealist compliment
  generator
strindberg and helium

Makin' Musical Whoopee:
last fm
stereo8
pandora
soma fm

. . . . . . . .

ABOUT RWS/CONTACT

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runswithscissors would like to thank everyone who's ever lived for everything they've ever done.

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