Matthew Gallaway

The Paris Project: Il y a 21 ans

11-22-88: Got back from Florence today: spent the night on the train with two English blokes, which was fun. It was great to walk into a car and have someone say, 'Do you speak English?' Anyway, Firenze was everything it was built up to be. The Renaissance in full bloom, orange rooftops, lazy Italian hours, cheesy Italian TV and fashion, but also high fashion. I almost bought a pair of shoes but I chickened out -- didn't want to do something uncool. (!) Stayed with Nadia and Marie at their apartment which they share with two other girls -- one who burps a lot and stresses out, and the other who is a DIGI from Southern California, need I write more? As Nadia said, 'nice but nauseating.'

I saw lots of cultural things -- The David, which was huge and amazing, the Mary Magdeleine of Donatello, very haggard but expressive. There was this other girl at Nadia's who was supposed to stay over with the scary Italian dude named Marko. 'Mawko' -- a bodybuilder with an extra-large can of hairspray. All-in-all, I learned about four words of Italian. Nadia, Marie and Brian took care of me linguistically. I'm glad that I don't live in Nadia's apartment though, because it smells. When I arrived with Brian Saturday morning, it was pitch black, hot and smelly. It smelled like sleep, as Brian said. Immediately, I went into Nadia's room and opened the window, but unfortunately the outside smelled even worse, some sort of sulfur. Thus, the problem. Anyway, it was nice hanging out with Marie and I also saw Domenica. I went to a cemetary where the Italians put these little pictures of themselves on the tombstones -- really quite bizarre. I also ate at the 'place,' a little hole-in-the-wall where Brian eats every day. It's run by two old Italian guys who like to speak the five words of English they know. 'What will we have today?' I ate veal three times, very good.

Italian TV is very strange. I saw a 'gameshow' whre all of these women would walk around flashing their breasts and the contestants would have to disrobe when they lost a question. Very strange.

Florence is more beautiful to look down on than to be in, whatever that means.

The Paris Project: Il y a 21 ans

11-8-88: The day of the election, I hope Bush is losing. I saw Herbie Hancock and Chick Corea last night: Herbie Hancock should have been playing in a small nightclub and not a 7 or 8 thousand seat arena, the Zenith.

mot du jour: doulerouse: painful
a cette egard: from this point of view

Chick Corea was corny as hell. As Bill said, 'His band looks like a bunch of Italian hockey players from Boston.' All of the musicians were incredibly talented and technically professional, but it was ... boring. I get tired as hell of listening to people play scales at a million miles per hour. I'll take Peter Buck any day. I saw a man on the Metro today who was kind of happy-looking -- lots of chomp chomp chomping on his gum.

11-15-88: Last weekend I went with 40 other screaming Americans on my program to Bourgogne: first Tornus, to eat lunch, see a cathedral (abby) and go wine-tasting and then dinner -- liver (duck), which was rather gross. I ate it anyway. Stayed the night in Cluny, at a hotel -- stayed with Abby and Pam, laughed a lot. Saw Cluny the next day, a huge abby which was for the most part wrecked after the Revolution. We ate lunch at a farm which dated to the XIII century. Great food -- chicken, sausage, cheese, the works. Returned Sunday night. Wrote my stupid paper on Balzac. Fortunately Guillaume corrected it. Caught a cold, might go to Italy this weekend. Bye.

The sun rises rapid
But a mist remains
The barking dogs
Shout up the wall
Through a mist
That shouldn't
Leave soon

The Paris Project: Il y a 21 ans

15-Oct-88: Je vais essayer d'ecrire en francais, au moins un peu. Non -- je prefere toujours l'anglais. I am now living in an apartment with a spectacular view of Paris. The outside of the apartment building is tall and square and 50s -- something I detest in principle -- but the inside is modern, convenient and tastefully decorated. It's really quite nice not to feel uncomfortable. I live with a mother who is 57  and her 19 year old son. The mother has problems with nerves in her neck and I thought that I heard her talking (no, I heard her, I just didn't get the exact sense) about me. I'm not sure if I eat here too much or if I keep my room clean enough or what. I think I'll ask her, but what the hell anyway? My classes have started, and I'm basically taking only one class with all foreigners -- but I'm making a lot of progress by living here with Guillaume and his mother, Madeleine.

16-Oct-88: The other day I was in the phone booth when this total jerk started tapping his foot outside, like there weren't 10,000 other phone booths in a five-minute radius, I'm not kidding! Then the other day I went to this place for lunch and hot chocolate and of course they sat us in the back of the room, but then, in the middle of taking our order, they cleared the settings of our table and placed them on another. What total dicks. Went out Friday night with Pam and Rebecca, couldn't seem to get served anywhere. Rebecca and Pam are getting on my nerves. Finished my first ever book, Le Parfum, in French today, I'm not kidding. It was pretty weird. It would be nice to get in touch with old Mary Claire. 

10-17-1988: Spoke beaucoup de francais aujourd'hui. En fait, c'etait peut-etre le premier jour ou j'ai parle plus francaise qu'anglais. C'est rigolo parce que Guilluame a decide de parler 'toujours plus vite, toujours plus complique.' La mere de Guillaume lui a dit de secouer le nap et il l'a fait sur le balcon, mais il l'a lasse tombe de la seizieme etage. Nous descendions et Guillaume a demande au concierge s'il avait vu un nap et qu'on cherchait un nap. De plus, le concierge avait l'air d'un gorilla!

10-25-88: Went to Brussels on Sunday with Susu and Nina. Ugly first impressions, day improved. Blah blah.

10-29-88: I am now in Holland, the Hague, chez Cristoffe, le cousin de Guillaume. Il est tres sympatique. We went out to eat and G and I watched his cousin dance 'Rock and Roll.' Interesting. Marilyn Monroe: queen of the world?

10-30-88: Holly, Nina and Susa gave us the big blow-off in Amsterdam. Oh well. Amsterdam -- big and beautiful -- lots of lights, sort of touristy. Holland has big people for such a small country.
10-31-88: Went speed-skating today -- rather fun -- Helen wore clogs -- all ages speed-skating -- very graceful, lots of colors -- ugly buildings in the Hague. Tomorrow I go to Delf peut-etre. Watched (2) American films.

Nov 5, 1988: Another week has gone by, my french is really starting to come together as I can just about comprehend anything as long as it's not completely random and very fast. Nadia was here at the beginning of the week, but I didn't see her until Wednesday morning, when we went to the Orangerie to see Monet's 'nenufares.' We went out that night to the underground jazz club -- very fun. Yesterday, Brian showed up with one of his friends from Italy. As Nadia said, 'Bill's just a little too cool for me.' His mother's french (West Indies) and his father's American, and his family has LOTS of money. I've seen his attitude a million times and it makes me sick. He talked about his various schools like potato chips, saying things like: 'I was going to apply to Choate but they changed the rules about smoking and I really didn't want to go -- I had so many friends there who said that it was a total drag. I swear, every year the freshman class gets nerdier -- I mean, they have fun but they don't shake up the administration or anything.' He said 'righteous' a lot, too. He hung out in Boulder for a couple of years doing nothings. 'But they have really hardcore punks there.' Anyway, he could talk English and French perfectly, which is more than I can say.
Last night I went to some art exhibition for artists and people who have lots of money to pay so they can exhibit their paintings (like Guillaume's uncle). It was worth it, though, because we went to an amazing French restaurant after -- I ate snails and white fish and chocolate mousse -- all very good, although I was sweating bullets before I had to order. I think that I'll go to Italy in a couple of weeks, but I need to buy tickets and get a hotel for my parents. I also have to read a lot of Balzac. And get my carte de sejour (again, but this time it should be rather pleasant, knock on wood). Expressions are rather hard to remember. I'm still glad that I'm not staying for a whole year, because it will be nice to get back and study in a manner that I am used to.
Richie wrote a very disturbing letter. I'm disappointed that he thinks that he needs to reintroduce himself to his friends. He knows it's not like that with Cranbrook, and it never will be if I see him the day that I die.

Marilyn Monroe: queen of the world?

The Paris Project: Il y a 21 ans

9-27-88: I am now lying in a 'Pension Beck' in Munich, Germany where I spent the last three days. Octoberfest is a strange thing -- it's like a huge amusement park with all of the trappings except that there are about 15 or so (maybe a lot more) huge warehouses that are the 'beer halls,' each owned and operated by a different company. They all have hundreds of picnic tables and wooden benches and each hall has a large, round stage in the middle where the band plays. All the bands play the same songs over and over and the international cheer seems to be 'Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole, etc.' Beers are 6.5-7.0 M (approx $4) but they're the very big kind you've always seen in pictures. It's great, though, because you can always cram into a table somewhere and everyone likes everyone as long as everyone has a beer and the music gets rolling. Sunday night we sat next to this couple with a handicapped daughter. It was kind of sad, because at the end, the mother threw up all over the place and they had to go. Well, they had a great time before the end though, dancing and rocking back and forth on top of the table -- it was cool.

Would you believe that I came here in a group of seven girls? I'm not kidding. It's weird being in a group that's always turning heads. They're all sort of upper-crust conservative though, which is starting to get on my nerves. This one girl S__ is really bizarre. The other night at the table, we played this stupid game called 'I Never.' So after a while S___ forced Holly to admit some strange things like 'I never had sex five times in the same day in the mountains.' So a little later, Holly told this guy at the next (actually a bunch of guys) table that S___ wanted them. So of course she grabbed hold of me, who happened to be sitting next to her, and makes me put my arm around her and pretend that I'm her boyfriend and all that stuff. But this didn't work for too well because all of her friends were trying to dish her out to the next table with these guys for a while, along with Susu, who was pretty funny. Anyway, S___ got drunk and later screamed at me for letting her get pushed to the next table. What a bitch! Anyway, we spent yesterday in the English gardens (very nice) and went back for a third night last night. I'm not drinking at all today. Off to Strausburg.

9-28-88: I'm on the train to Strausburg -- the sky is really blue and it's pretty spectacular to ride through the European countryside and villages and forests -- the whole deal -- lots of white houses with red-tile rooftops, or more accurately, a sort of brownish white house with a brownish red rooftop. There are huge cornfields bordered by tall trees. There are also a lot of dingy square apartment buildings in the bigger towns, but all-in-all, it is everything that I might have expected from the German countryside. Some general observations about Germany (very general, as my visit only lasted 3.5 days in Munich):
-- Munich was an exceptionally clean and uncrowded city in comparison to Paris -- also the people didn't seem so dirty, either, to support a sweeping generalization against the French. But it was true that although thousands of people were packed into those beer halls, it didn't smell at all -- quite different from your basic Parisian metro.
-- The Germans are great bike-riders. I have to get a bike in Paris.
-- The English garden in Munich was the nicest place I think I've seen in Europe so far. It's just a great big park in the middle of the city with acres of open fields, forests and fast-moving streams. Everyone in the park is completely (for the most part) relaxed, and in the middle of the park there was a beer garden -- you can just sit there and drink huge beers and eat huge pretzels and chicken or sausage.
-- I thought I lost my keys but I was extremely psyched when I found them in the bottom of my suitcase for safe-keeping.
-- It would be awesome to drive a car through Europe and just sort of check out the out-of-the-way places.
-- It is hard to believe that 45 years ago, the Germans were the enemy. I wonder what really happened, and would we (USA) support a Hitler today? Sometimes I wonder. I mean, outside of the 'Final Solution,' his economic views seemed to hold true with the same type of hardcore businesses that still exist.

[John Tangent hesitated and then turned around to look back at the sky, still dark and solid as the first snow began to fall.]

The Paris Project: Il y a 21 ans

Journal Entry: 3 - 9 (Septembre) - 88: Well I'm in Paris. Actually I'm in a tiny little hotel room. I hate blue pens which is why I'm so psyched that this pen is black because it's in a blue container. We almost didn't make the flight because of the goddamn travel agent in Ithaca: it turned out that we weren't even booked on the flight (ever) and we had to fly standby. We got off the plane and Rebecca's friends picked us up (Claire, Olivier and Serge). They were pretty cool. They fed us lunch and then I took a cab to this hotel. French people don't eat with the bread on their plate. French word for hangover: 'hors de service' (out of order). I haven't met any of the other students yet (besides Rebecca) but maybe I will tomorrow. I bought a sandwich tonight. I walked around Paris for about 2 hours -- I didn't even get that lost. I'll be psyched to move out of this hotel I think and into a situation where I am surrounded by French-speaking people. This room is all peach. It kind of makes me want to puke, but the building is cool even if the name of the hotel is 'Sunny.' Surprisingly, everyone does speak French here.

9-7-88: I'm still in Paris and I will be for quite a while, except that I'm now in an even smaller room. If I wasn't in Paris, I'd say I was living in a really dumpy place. However, ma famille est gentille and it's not bad. I try not to spend any time pendant la journee ici so I don't start thinking about home. I always feel just an ounce uncomfortable here. Today, I waited in line for about six years for a cash advance on my VISA. I thought that they thought for sure that I had stolen the carte and the police were going to come and cart me away. Je suis trop fatigue.

9-8-88: Today some old piece of shit was so drunk that he fell on me in the metro. And then he acted insulted when I couldn't understand him that well. It made me want to puke. Yesterday, I heard Part II of a famous conversation that took place in Ithaca.

First, Part I:
Meg: Rebecca said that she wants to seduce you.
Part II:
Rebecca: Meg said that everyone said that you had a big crush on her. Is it true?

I ate dinner with Bruno and Marie. French news is much more comprehensive than Amerique.

la tendence: tendency
d'occasion: used
se tromper (de): to be mistaken

9-12-88: Alison always meets strange people. While waiting for her friend Susu, some guy came up to her and asked if she was French. Wanting to turn him off, she said 'no.' It turned out that the guy was American and his name was John Tangent and he went to college with Alison's roommate's father.

une couch: diaper
une gamme: musical scale
une prise: outlet
une machine: machine

Sept. 13, 1988: French bureaucracy is the most frustrating thing ever. I stood in line for about ten years today. First, this stupid bitch wouldn't accept a slightly older than three-month bill and she was like (in French) you only have 500 francs? And do you have this other letter? and then she wouldn't accept it without a French translation. It totally sucked. So then I go back to the apartment and finally get the right bill and I found a 'traducteur' who was cool enough to do the translation even though he did manage to act like a total butthole about it. So then I get back to the place and I made it past the first window and I finally made it to this woman who filled out a million forms and made me go get copies of various stuff. Of course I didn't have single francs so I had to go buy a peach and then a lollipop to get change. Finally I'm all set, but some machine broke and I have to go back tomorrow. Doesn't that totally suck?

la courage: spirit, courage
un coin: corner
se reposer: to take a break
un perrochet: a parrot

9-15-88: Ate dinner with Bruno and Marie, Bernard and his wife, Anne and Marie-Claire. They talked a lot of French but it was a good experience. I learn a lot when I'm forced to deal with the language.

9-16-88: Today in French class, we had to ask everyone a question. Mine was: 'How would you like to die?' Of course everyone said in their sleep but I made up a couple of answers. Met Anne at the Musee D'Orsay and Marie-Claire at a cafe. C'etait super!

vachement: really
dingue: crazy

9-18-88: Today I blew off Abby (sorry) Rose and went to l'Acadamie Francaise and l'Opera with Marie-Claire. Then I met her friend Helene and we went to a movie. In the metro tonight, I danced a bit to a reggae band. Oh, also went to the top of Notre-Dame. I'm still glad to be spending only a semester in France, a year would be way too much. I'm not one to live in big cities all the time. I caught Abby's cold, which sucks. 

cul: ass
culottes: underwear

[John Tangent hesitated and then turned around to look back at the sky, still dark and solid as the first snow began to fall.]

The George Washington Project: A Short Story about a Screaming Man

So tonight the bridge is backlit in the manner of a Parisian monumument, in honor of The Beatles.

Last night I slept very well, mostly because the screaming drunk who has been intermittently plaguing the neighborhood seemed to have exhausted himself from the night before, when I did not sleep very well at all. When he's around, he screams until around midnight and then starts up again at around 4:30 am. I've reached an age where I need more than 4.5 hours of sleep, unfortunately!

Because I've never seen this man, sometimes I worry that he only exists in my head.

This is a post about terrorism and 9/11.

Guest Blogging by the Editorial Assistant: Trying To Be Optimistic

I'm trying 2 be more positive, every1, which is why I'm going to list a few things that happened 2day that 'made life worth living': 1) caught the downtown A 'experience' on the way to work, 2) was psyched that some1 fixed the elevator door in our apartment building so that it now closes 'faster than a guillotine' and 3) sat on the back of our new couch.

Ugh -- can't pretend. Still bummed out that my 'birthday' is 9/11 :(
Can't believe I'm six y.o. already.
Miss u, youth.

The George Washington Boredom Project

Wow, today was one of those days when I existed in a fog.

It seemed like every single thing I did I've already done at least a million times. My legs felt like they weighed 1000 pounds each. The bank asked for even more documentation for a refi that began in May. Every deposit greater than 10 cents must be verified by three different paper trails. Our country is a disaster.

Even the cats were moaning and restless.

But at least I have a job! (Things u must appreciate under a capitalistic regime.)

And at least the sun turned the sky hot and red, a fire into which I can throw all my _______.

The George Washington Bird Project

So today our new couch arrived, which was a cause for some aggravation and some celebration. Before it arrived, I said to Stephen: 'You'd better print out the invoice, because I know they're going to show up and say that we didn't pay to have it installed.' This turned out to be exactly right! But after a flurry of phone calls between the four companies involved, it was determined that we did in fact pay to have it installed. At one point the guy on the phone was like: 'u mean screwing on the legs and putting it together?' I could tell that he was implicitly threatening my masculinity, but less affronted by this sort of thing than I might have been in the past, I said: 'that's what we paid for!' and he eventually agreed that this was true. Anyway, the couch is in and it looks great: I will no doubt spend many thousands of hours on it watching the bridge from our window (unless we hit the lottery and move to the estate section of Riverdale).

In other news, I turned my novel back in to the editor, which was kind of sad and kind of a relief. There is definitely truth in the idea that working on something is less nerve-racking than waiting for a reaction. As soon as I e-mailed it off, I was overcome by a sense of futility and doom, even though I'm fairly confident that this is the best version yet! Fortunately I was able to distract myself by contemplating the new couch and the bridge, and by playing with the cats, who were even more excited than we were to get the couch.

Summer's over and it's time to get back to watching teevee work.

We are birds flying over the bridge, trying 2 find our way across the infinite sky.

The George Washington Bellport Project

Today on the way back from Southampton we stopped in Bellport, an old town founded over five million blog years ago. After serving us a delicious lunch, our hosts for the afternoon took us on a walking tour, where we saw many interesting things. The above gate is just one example, and like many things in the town, predates Home Depot: it is called the 'Bellport gate.' We were shocked to learn that in years past, some towns in the United States actually looked different than other towns via these kinds of decorative embellishments; such inefficiencies were obv 'phased out' in the modern era (via capitalism). 

Bellport is also the home of the original 'ball bearing,' which at the time was an invention similar to an 'iPhone' in terms of its impact on society. Another thing Bellport is known for is the 'Bellport husband,' a term coined during the Revolutionary War but still used to describe men on the 'down low,' i.e., men who like to 'appear' non-homosexual (via marriages to women and breeding) but who are secretly non-heterosexual (via Craigslist M2M). And speaking of the Revolutionary War, another 'George Washington' from Bellport invented 'instant coffee' in WWI: this was like the 'Red Bull' of its day, so he was 'mad rich.'  (The 'George Washington Bridge' is secretly named after him.)

As we walked toward town, Stephen and I looked longingly at the trumpet vines, which were blooming magnificently.

We were pretty much prepared to rip out our garden for these.

One thing I noticed about Long Island -- and Bellport is no exception -- is that people really know how to trim their hedges. There are also vast numbers of beautiful trees that were planted hundreds of years ago; to contemplate such trees made me feel very old and very young at the same time.

We arrived at the town marina, from which you can see Fire Island. The bay was choppy and the waves were spraying over the rampart. Just to stand there, it almost felt like we were sailing.

Here's Jeff and John, who have been together for 32 years. They were legally married last year in Massachusetts, and as you can tell from this picture, both they and 'American society' are suffering greatly as a result.

It was hard not to succumb to a certain exuberance on this day, when the wind was strong and the sun bright and the conversation good. My hair, however, was basically 'shellacked' from a week on vacation (via salt water and chlorine), so not a single hair was moving. (This pic was taken by Jeff.)

Returning from the water, we passed yet another impressive hedge, this one made of hemlocks. On the drive back to the city, we fantasized about moving to ____ and having mature trees and hedges (and a non-chlorine pool).

It was a lil difficult to get back after spending the past week living among such lush vegetation and basically doing 'whatever the fuck we wanted' 24/7. It's no doubt a sign of a good vacation, though, when u don't want it to end.

The transition back to 'reality' was made easier by Zephyr, who seemed very happy to see us.

And Dante, whose eyes were even greener than we remembered.

And Elektra, who was a 'teacher's pet' for the cat-sitter.

And of course the George Washington Bridge, whose dignified beauty remained unchanged during the week of our absence.