far too much writing, far too many photos

runswithscissors


Sunday, March 09, 2008

It's election day in Spain and the neighborhood has been strangely quiet. Disorientingly low-key for a Sunday in early spring. Almost sober. (I say almost, this not being a barrio known for sobriety.) As if a collective breath is being held, as if many are keeping a cautiously low profile until they see how things work out. (Though I admit I may be projecting with that last bit.)

It might have been like this in any case, given how intense the campaign season was. But once again, a last-minute happening roiled already muddy waters.

Elections take place on Sunday. By law, all campaigning comes to a close Friday at midnight, leaving Saturday as a day of reflection. Friday afternoon, the terrorist/separatist group ETA assassinated someone associated with the Socialist party in a town in the Basque Country, an ex-councilor -- immediately throwing the last day of campaigning off its axis. An army of media folk descended on the town, political types abandoned their big staged political mitins to hurry north where all attention was focused.

Even without strange developments like that, I find this a poignant, slightly melancholy time of year, this period between the cold season and the warm season. Spring does not impose itself all at once here. It slips slowly in via spells of sweet, teasingly mild weather, punctuated by sudden backslidings to less user-friendly conditions. And once Carnival has passed in a burst of music and confetti, the year's first wave of tourism gets cranking as school vacations happen in Europe and North America, bringing a resurgence of furriners. Germans formed most of this year's initial wave, followed by Americans, Brits, and a sprinkling of folks from the country on the other side of the Pyranees. (That would be France, for the geographically challenged.) I know it remains perennially popular to dump on the French, but for what it's worth my experience with them has always -- well, mostly -- been good, and the music they bring to the mix of languages here feels just fine to me.

It's become normal to see people dragging wheeled luggage, the sound of plastic wheels on pavement part of the season's soundtrack. As I descended into the Metro yesterday evening, a young male bounded up the stairs past me, followed slowly by a 40ish male -- guardian? parent? -- loaded down with luggage, grunting with effort, expression revealing someone surprised and a teeny bit desperate at his situation.


[continued in next entry]


Espaņa, te quiero

rws 5:06 PM [+]

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BLATHERINGS

August 2001
September 2001
October 2001
November 2001
December 2001
January 2002
February 2002
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
January 2003
February 2003
March 2003
April 2003
May 2003
June 2003
July 2003
August 2003
September 2003
October 2003
November 2003
December 2003
January 2004
February 2004
March 2004
April 2004
May 2004
June 2004
July 2004
August 2004
September 2004
October 2004
November 2004
December 2004
January 2005
February 2005
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
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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