This summer has been a bear. Lots of things to do and such a short time to accomplish any of them. You'd think that with both Jen and I working in schools and thus getting almost three months off during the summer that we could easily make a list of things to do and knock them off one by one. You could think that, but if you did it would be evidence that you clearly don't know who we are and how ridiculously good we are at procrastinating. For example, I have been putting off getting my brother David a college graduation present for about 11 years now.
One of the things that we have had on our list since late May is to take a family trip to the Field Museum in Chicago so Ryan could see the dinosaurs. We read a lot of books, and many of them have dinosaurs as the main characters. With all the counting, playing, chasing other dinosaurs, and learning their alphabet, the dinosaurs in his books lead very active lives. They also, without exception, all have skin. Muscles, bones, blood, and other connective tissues are assumed, but they all have skin.
He is very interested in animals and people that have skin. He is also very interested in what happens to the skin of the people and animals that shuffle off this mortal coil. We can be having a conversation about anything, and this subject will almost invariably crop up.
"Dad," he says.
"Yep," I respond.
"Why does Dash run so fast?" Dash is from the movie "The Incredibles" and is his new favorite person in the whole world. He talks about him and his movie almost nonstop.
"Well, Dash is a superhero, so he has powers that normal people don't have."
"Oh. Can I be a superhero?"
"No, not in real life. You can pretend to be a superhero if you like, though."
"Ok. Watch how fast I can run!" With this, he takes off around the living room making "VROOOM!" noises and running into things like chairs, his little brother Ethan, and the occasional wall.
"That is really fast," I exclaim. "Now, say sorry to your brother."
"Are you sure I'm not a superhero?"
"Yep. Pretty sure."
"Your dad died," he says, tactfully switching the subject.
Thankfully this is not news to me, as he has been dead for a few years now. "Yep. He did."
"His skin will come off and he will get all hard," says the four year old medical examiner. Apparently this is what you get when you make the mistake of answering a few questions truthfully. A few months ago he learned that the cat which lives at Nonnie's house was probably going to die soon, so he asked Jen and I a few questions about that. In order to answer his questions, we told him about the concepts of decomposition, rigor mortis, other facts of death which went into the little cement mixer that is his 4 year old brain and came out "skin off/hard body". Leave it to a little boy to break things down to their bare essence.
"This is true," I told him. I try not to elaborate or encourage more questions when he talks like this. Not yet, anyway.
"Lets go play soccer," he says, changing the subject yet again.
"Yes. Let's."
So on the way to the museum our little interrogator starts in with the questions about dinosaurs. "Are they all dead? Do they have skin? Why did they die? How old are they? Was the meteor that killed them alive? I'm four years old. Are they really 200 million years old? I'm not 200 million years old. Your dad is dead. Am I 200 million years old? How old is Ethan in millions of years? Who is bigger, me or a dinosaur? Why am I smaller than a dinosaur? Can a dinosaur run faster than Dash? Will their skin come back on?..." and so on. Never a dull moment in the car with that little one.
We cruised through the museum, eventually hitting the "Evolving Planet" exhibit where the dinosaurs are kept. He is too little to be really interested in the really cool stuff, like transitional fossils of tetrapod evolution, or the entire room dedicated to the evolution of humans and other hominids, but he did dig the large dinosaurs. He also loved the giant ground sloth and the other large mammals, and was even able to point out a red eyed tree frog and a macaw in their amazing picture gallery at the end of the exhibit. Overall, he seemed to get a kick out of the entire place which is exactly what we wanted to hear. Learning should be fun, and it appears that for him, at least for now and in this place, it was.
Now, if Jen and I would only learn to stop procrastinating we might be able to get to the zoo and Botanic Gardens in the few weeks we have left.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
J'apprends le Français
Since my foray a few weeks ago into the world of pop culture as presented by France, I have found myself more and more enamored with the French language. The sounds, phrases, and accent of French have totally captivated me. Even when you are saying something completely banal like "I am doing fine, thanks," the language is beautiful, and I decided that I would like to be able to speak and understand it.
I do this from time to time. By "this" I mean take on projects that are completely useless to me. When am I ever going to need to speak French? I live in the Chicago area, for crying out loud - it is more likely that I will need to know how to say "please put me down - I don't like you that way" in Klingon. However, with drive times that reach into the 2 hour mark on some days due to my multiple teaching jobs, I have some free time in the car that needs filling, so why not learn a new language? I already speak spanish well enough to hold parent teacher conferences in that language if necessary, although I do have to refrain from throwing the words "pinche" ("fucking", as in "la pinche burro me golpeó con el pie en mi pinche cabeza" - "the fucking donkey kicked me in my fucking head") and "guey" (which translates into many things, depending on who is saying it and to whom it is being said, but most of them are not polite) into the conversation. (I learned much of what I know from students and players on my soccer teams.) I want a new language.
So I downloaded some podcasts from "Coffee Break French" to start the process. These podcasts are about 20 minutes in length - the length of a coffee break, hence the name - and are hosted by Mark (the teacher) and Anna (the student). In each podcast they pick a topic, like "greetings", and teach you words and phrases that fall under that heading. Obviously, the "greetings" podcast covered things like "Good morning", "How are you?", and "I'm fine, thanks," along with a variety of other things including "good-bye". There are two things I love about this podcast. First, Mark spends quite a bit of time making sure Anna is pronouncing words correctly, which is very helpful to a newbie like me. Second, they both are from Scotland, so I get to brush up on my Scottish accent while I learn French. I have been pleasantly surprised by how much I have been able to pick up in the 2 weeks since I started listening. I can now have the following conversation:
I can keep going from there, asking where they are from, where they live now, etc., but after a few more sentences I have to throw in something like "Le singe est sur la branche. C'est tout que je sais," which translates to " The monkey is on the branch. That is all I know." I suppose I could also follow it up with the French equivalent of "Well, see ya later!", but I don't think lines from the movie "Dumb and Dumber" translate properly.
Anyway, I have found myself totally digging the process of learning a language again. I forgot how much fun it can be to go from having no clue what is going on to suddenly having a tiny clue. A REALLY tiny clue. I don't claim to be able to speak, read, or write with anything near that of a first year french student, much less fluency, but I am starting the process. Perhaps I'll keep going, or perhaps I'll drop this new hobby like it was something that gets dropped quickly - a bag of flaming dog poo, for example, or an angry cat that hasn't been declawed. If the next podcasts continue to be as entertaining and helpful as the first 10, I'm sure I'll have no problem continuing.
I do this from time to time. By "this" I mean take on projects that are completely useless to me. When am I ever going to need to speak French? I live in the Chicago area, for crying out loud - it is more likely that I will need to know how to say "please put me down - I don't like you that way" in Klingon. However, with drive times that reach into the 2 hour mark on some days due to my multiple teaching jobs, I have some free time in the car that needs filling, so why not learn a new language? I already speak spanish well enough to hold parent teacher conferences in that language if necessary, although I do have to refrain from throwing the words "pinche" ("fucking", as in "la pinche burro me golpeó con el pie en mi pinche cabeza" - "the fucking donkey kicked me in my fucking head") and "guey" (which translates into many things, depending on who is saying it and to whom it is being said, but most of them are not polite) into the conversation. (I learned much of what I know from students and players on my soccer teams.) I want a new language.
So I downloaded some podcasts from "Coffee Break French" to start the process. These podcasts are about 20 minutes in length - the length of a coffee break, hence the name - and are hosted by Mark (the teacher) and Anna (the student). In each podcast they pick a topic, like "greetings", and teach you words and phrases that fall under that heading. Obviously, the "greetings" podcast covered things like "Good morning", "How are you?", and "I'm fine, thanks," along with a variety of other things including "good-bye". There are two things I love about this podcast. First, Mark spends quite a bit of time making sure Anna is pronouncing words correctly, which is very helpful to a newbie like me. Second, they both are from Scotland, so I get to brush up on my Scottish accent while I learn French. I have been pleasantly surprised by how much I have been able to pick up in the 2 weeks since I started listening. I can now have the following conversation:
"Bonjour. ça va?"
"Je suis en forme. Et tu?"
"Ca va bien, merci. Je m'appelle Jed. Comment
t'appelle-tu?
"Je m'appelle Bob. Qu'est-ce que tu faites dans la vie?"
"Je suis professeur de biology."
I can keep going from there, asking where they are from, where they live now, etc., but after a few more sentences I have to throw in something like "Le singe est sur la branche. C'est tout que je sais," which translates to " The monkey is on the branch. That is all I know." I suppose I could also follow it up with the French equivalent of "Well, see ya later!", but I don't think lines from the movie "Dumb and Dumber" translate properly.
Anyway, I have found myself totally digging the process of learning a language again. I forgot how much fun it can be to go from having no clue what is going on to suddenly having a tiny clue. A REALLY tiny clue. I don't claim to be able to speak, read, or write with anything near that of a first year french student, much less fluency, but I am starting the process. Perhaps I'll keep going, or perhaps I'll drop this new hobby like it was something that gets dropped quickly - a bag of flaming dog poo, for example, or an angry cat that hasn't been declawed. If the next podcasts continue to be as entertaining and helpful as the first 10, I'm sure I'll have no problem continuing.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Wow, that's a lot of blood.
It pays to be healthy. I know from experience that carrying around a few extra (20 or so) pounds can suck the energy out of you faster than a fat man can suck down a triple thick milkshake from McDonalds. I have been running fairly regularly for about 2 years now and, in an attempt to maintain some sort of interest in an activity that has become, for me, something comparable to waterboarding, I have changed things up a bit. I no longer run on the road since that was WAY too time consuming and rather painful at times. To find scenery that I have not seen a million times already required longer and longer runs which, unless you are able to speed up at the same time that increase distance, take more and more time. Now I bike up to my local Cardinal Fitness and spend about 15 minutes or so on the treadmill trying to go faster and faster until eventually I break the world record for the mile. Right now, if I push it, I am at about 7 minutes per mile so I don't think the world record is going to need rewriting for some time to come. This seems to have done the trick as I am now much more interested in keeping in shape than I have ever been, mostly because I can go in, knock out 2 miles or so, and then move on to the elliptical machine for a while where I can watch old episodes of Family Guy or my accumulated video podcasts of "The Onion News Network."
Jen, my wife, recently decided that she wanted to work our more regularly, and since we have two young sons we have been alternating who goes to exercise and who stays home with the little ones. The whole workout process can take up to 12 hours a day if we are not careful. Then one day she had a brilliant idea: bring the boys to the playplace at the gym so we could work out together! Surprisingly, our oldest son, Ryan, didn't have a problem with this despite the fact that when he was young he would routinely scream as though he were being eaten by tigers the minute we tried to leave him in any kind of daycare situation. Our youngest son, Ethan, also had no problems with this idea. He loved being in the playroom with his older brother and all the new toys and gizmos to which 10 month-olds are attracted. We were able to have a nice workout without incident, and even decided that we would buy a card that would allow us to bring these two little princes to the playroom whenever we came to work out.
The next time Jen brought them in was a different story, however. Ryan was still fine with it, but Ethan hadn't napped well in the morning and so was a little more on the cranky side than the last time he came in. He cried, much the way his brother had years before, like he had been stung by jellyfish. Mean ones. Lots of them. Jen had to cut her workout short and take the two boys home and wait for me to return from school before she could go back.
We tried this process again last Saturday afternoon. Again, Ryan was fine and again, Ethan cried. To ensure that at least Jen was able to complete a work out, I volunteered to take the boys to the local park to play for 40 minutes or so, vowing to return to pick her up when she was finished. So off we went, the Doyle boys, to what we call the wooden park.
This park is an amazing place. It has the typical park fare - swings, sandbox and slides - but it also has baby swings for little Ethan and what appears from outside the park to be a castle made of wood. In this castle there are small passageways for little people that wind and turn every which way. These passages often lead to dead ends but just as often they end at a staircase or ladder which will take you up a level. There are several levels to be explored in this castle and at the highest level, or battlements, the kids have access to the entire top of the structure which contains 3 different slides and several poles which can be used to slide down safely or, if we are talking about little boys playing, unsafely to the ground. There are numerous ways to have fun and just as many ways to get hurt while playing at this park. Ryan loves it and so do I.
We played on the baby swings for a while to calm Ethan down a bit, and once we had accomplished that task, Ryan set out to patrol the castle. He made it to the top with no problems and even struck up one of those 5 minute best-friendships that are so common a this age. The new BFF's were two slightly older boys who looked to be about 6. They were playing tag and invited Ryan to be part of the game. He was more than happy to play the part of the tagger due to the fact that he has seen "The Incredibles" about 700 times in the past week and is now convinced that he can run as fast as one of the little superheroes from the movie, Dash. Watching the boys take off on their initial runs I was surprised at how fast he actually was. Clearly we are not in the superhero speed range, but for a 4 year old he is fairly spry. The older boys even commented on his speed as well which made Ryan all the more likely to throw caution to the wind and put all his energy into moving faster.
After a few laps around the park almost being caught by my boy, the older kids decided that they needed a new tactic. Being slightly older made them slightly smarter, which allowed them to work out the fact that if they cruised into the castle passageways, Ryan's speed wouldn't trouble them so much. That little tactic worked like a charm, and Ryan immediately fell behind in the chase. He would get halfway up the ladders inside and would look down to see the two older boys running away. With an audible sound of disgust, he'd climb back down and begin the chase again only to have the other boys employ the same passages to evade him. This lasted for a few minutes with everyone enjoying themselves when Ryan ran around the back of the castle where I couldn't see him. He was only behind there for a few seconds when I heard a THUD followed loud screams.
I came down from my perch with Ethan in my arms and made my way to where Ryan was. One of the little boys who had been playing with Ryan came out from the passages and said to me, nonchalantly, "Wow, that's a lot of blood." Ryan came out next holding his mouth and face which was, and I must give the other little boy credit here, covered with a lot of blood. I grabbed his hand and quickly took him to the car where we used the last of Ethan's baby wipes to clean up most of the blood from his face and clothes. The two boys brought a bottle of water for us to use to help clean up and said that they hoped he'd be ok, which was actually really nice to hear. He got blood all over his shirt and his Manchester United shorts, so he wasn't thrilled with that, but by the time we got back to Cardinal, he had stopped bleeding.
Jen had to cut her workout short because Ryan kept asking for his mom, but she was more than happy to do it, not because it got her off the treadmill, but because she is a great mom and does a wonderful job of taking care of her little boys. Eventually we will figure out a work-out schedule that doesn't involve crying or bleeding children, but until that day comes, I'm gonna make sure that the baby wipes and pacifiers are kept well stocked in the diaper bag.
Jen, my wife, recently decided that she wanted to work our more regularly, and since we have two young sons we have been alternating who goes to exercise and who stays home with the little ones. The whole workout process can take up to 12 hours a day if we are not careful. Then one day she had a brilliant idea: bring the boys to the playplace at the gym so we could work out together! Surprisingly, our oldest son, Ryan, didn't have a problem with this despite the fact that when he was young he would routinely scream as though he were being eaten by tigers the minute we tried to leave him in any kind of daycare situation. Our youngest son, Ethan, also had no problems with this idea. He loved being in the playroom with his older brother and all the new toys and gizmos to which 10 month-olds are attracted. We were able to have a nice workout without incident, and even decided that we would buy a card that would allow us to bring these two little princes to the playroom whenever we came to work out.
The next time Jen brought them in was a different story, however. Ryan was still fine with it, but Ethan hadn't napped well in the morning and so was a little more on the cranky side than the last time he came in. He cried, much the way his brother had years before, like he had been stung by jellyfish. Mean ones. Lots of them. Jen had to cut her workout short and take the two boys home and wait for me to return from school before she could go back.
We tried this process again last Saturday afternoon. Again, Ryan was fine and again, Ethan cried. To ensure that at least Jen was able to complete a work out, I volunteered to take the boys to the local park to play for 40 minutes or so, vowing to return to pick her up when she was finished. So off we went, the Doyle boys, to what we call the wooden park.
This park is an amazing place. It has the typical park fare - swings, sandbox and slides - but it also has baby swings for little Ethan and what appears from outside the park to be a castle made of wood. In this castle there are small passageways for little people that wind and turn every which way. These passages often lead to dead ends but just as often they end at a staircase or ladder which will take you up a level. There are several levels to be explored in this castle and at the highest level, or battlements, the kids have access to the entire top of the structure which contains 3 different slides and several poles which can be used to slide down safely or, if we are talking about little boys playing, unsafely to the ground. There are numerous ways to have fun and just as many ways to get hurt while playing at this park. Ryan loves it and so do I.
We played on the baby swings for a while to calm Ethan down a bit, and once we had accomplished that task, Ryan set out to patrol the castle. He made it to the top with no problems and even struck up one of those 5 minute best-friendships that are so common a this age. The new BFF's were two slightly older boys who looked to be about 6. They were playing tag and invited Ryan to be part of the game. He was more than happy to play the part of the tagger due to the fact that he has seen "The Incredibles" about 700 times in the past week and is now convinced that he can run as fast as one of the little superheroes from the movie, Dash. Watching the boys take off on their initial runs I was surprised at how fast he actually was. Clearly we are not in the superhero speed range, but for a 4 year old he is fairly spry. The older boys even commented on his speed as well which made Ryan all the more likely to throw caution to the wind and put all his energy into moving faster.
After a few laps around the park almost being caught by my boy, the older kids decided that they needed a new tactic. Being slightly older made them slightly smarter, which allowed them to work out the fact that if they cruised into the castle passageways, Ryan's speed wouldn't trouble them so much. That little tactic worked like a charm, and Ryan immediately fell behind in the chase. He would get halfway up the ladders inside and would look down to see the two older boys running away. With an audible sound of disgust, he'd climb back down and begin the chase again only to have the other boys employ the same passages to evade him. This lasted for a few minutes with everyone enjoying themselves when Ryan ran around the back of the castle where I couldn't see him. He was only behind there for a few seconds when I heard a THUD followed loud screams.
I came down from my perch with Ethan in my arms and made my way to where Ryan was. One of the little boys who had been playing with Ryan came out from the passages and said to me, nonchalantly, "Wow, that's a lot of blood." Ryan came out next holding his mouth and face which was, and I must give the other little boy credit here, covered with a lot of blood. I grabbed his hand and quickly took him to the car where we used the last of Ethan's baby wipes to clean up most of the blood from his face and clothes. The two boys brought a bottle of water for us to use to help clean up and said that they hoped he'd be ok, which was actually really nice to hear. He got blood all over his shirt and his Manchester United shorts, so he wasn't thrilled with that, but by the time we got back to Cardinal, he had stopped bleeding.
Jen had to cut her workout short because Ryan kept asking for his mom, but she was more than happy to do it, not because it got her off the treadmill, but because she is a great mom and does a wonderful job of taking care of her little boys. Eventually we will figure out a work-out schedule that doesn't involve crying or bleeding children, but until that day comes, I'm gonna make sure that the baby wipes and pacifiers are kept well stocked in the diaper bag.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
There are other worlds than these...
I discovered something yesterday which will forever change the way I look at the world. This thing that I discovered is so innocuous as to make me a little ashamed that I didn't know about it before, but it is, nevertheless, an important piece of information that has eluded me until now. I am probably building this up too much, but it is too late now. Best to just forge on and reveal my new piece of information and let the world think of me what it will.
Ready?
French people have different TV shows than we do.
I know. It blew my mind too.
Who knew that there are shows in French both hosted and watched by actual French people? Well, I assume that the actual French people who watch the shows knew this, and to continue on with my impeccable logic, the hosts themselves probably were made aware of this at some point in their careers, but did anyone outside of France know this? Why was I kept in the dark on this?
I guess I should clear something up a bit. It is not like I didn't know that French people had TV. I didn't assume that they all sat around all day eating baguettes and writing poetry while wearing berets under the Eiffel Tower. That would be hell on the digestive system. I was aware, at least on some level, that other countries have their own singers, actors, TV shows, etc, it is just that I had never really seen any of it aside from Monty Python, Dr. Who, the occasional nature documentary on the BBC, and a smattering of other things. Now I have seen actual snips from some actual French shows and I am a new person.
Let me back up a bit.
I am a member of a Tottenham Hotspur message board where people from England and many other countries post information regarding the team, possible player transfers, and basically anything that the members decide to post to take their minds off of the impending loss of key players to other teams. It is a great site and has become invaluable to me in keeping up with a sport and team that gets basically zero coverage here in the states. After learning that one of everyone's favorite players was probably going to be sold this summer, a poster started one such escapist thread and invited people to post pictures of their favorite European pop singers. On this thread someone posted a picture of this French singer, Alizee, and a link to one of her music videos. Like most men I know I have a thing for the French accent, and she was totally cute so I clicked to check it out. Turns out that not only is she cute, she can sing as well. I didn't understand anything she was singing, but I dug the voice and the beat to the song so I watched the whole thing.
I then jumped on Rhapsody to see if her catalog was online. It was, and I found myself enjoying the heck out of music which contained lyrics that I couldn't understand. It turns out that she has been around since she got her first record contract at the age of 16 in the year 2000, has released 3 albums, and was the top selling French female singer for 2001 (thanks, Wikipedia!). Also, just so you all don't think I am some sicko, the picture on the message board was of her 23 year old self, not the 16 year old version. Young is fine, jailbait not so much.
So here was this singer who has apparently been popular in Europe for about the last 8 years and I had never heard of her. That didn't bother me at first because, as I found out, her fan base here in this country is fairly limited. This is primarily due to the fact that roughly 0.61% of the population herein the good ol' USA speak French (thanks, National Virtual Translation Center!), and most of the rest of the population basically can't be bothered to care about anything not American made. However, it did start to bother me a bit. What else was I missing? I didn't want to close myself off to the rest of the pop culture in the world just because I lived in America. Granted, we make some kick ass movies and we do kinda rule when it comes to pop culture, but obviously there is more out there.
Thus did I begin the process of attempting to find more pop culture from different countries. Since I had already found a singer I liked, I thought I'd check out the TV side of things. I figured I'd start with France because I dig the accent and, to be honest, I was hoping to find more videos of Alizee. As it turns out, this is not a difficult thing to do. I quickly found one website that fit the bill perfectly in that it not only had music videos for the singles she had released, but also MANY videos of her being interviewed on French TV. Jackpot.
Often the interviews were in French with no subtitles, but every now and then someone had gone to the trouble of placing either English or Spanish subtitles on the videos. Since I can read Spanish fairly well and I have at least a passing understanding of the English language, this worked well for me. It was, however, most often more fun to watch the videos without subtitles because then I could concentrate on the sets and hosts of the shows rather than reading the words. I must say that I was rarely disappointed.
When I mentioned earlier that France had its own TV shows and how this changed me, I neglected to mention that some of them are, without a doubt, hilarious. In one of the video clips Alizee performs a song and then comes down to the interview section, much like a performer would on the Tonight Show or Letterman. However, it is there where the similarities end. The hosts of the show are a man and a woman, both of whom appear old enough to have been around when music was first invented, and they are sitting on a GIANT red couch that was probably 15 to 20 feet in length. Across the stage sits Alizee, on a similar GIANT red couch about 15 yards from the hosts. In the middle of the stage is this elaborate coffee table with all kinds of crap strewn about on it. The hosts spend much of the time sort of bickering with one another about who gets to ask the next question while the guest sits patiently and answers when they finally get around to acknowledging her. Not exactly a great interview, but how often do we get to see bickering hosts here? I loved every minute of it.
There is a second video which shows a German TV host interviewing Alizee in which he attempts to speak French with her. If the subtitles are to be believed, after complimenting her shoes he ends up accidentally asking her a variety of seemingly provocative questions including whether or not she enjoys "hot water bags". Clearly puzzled, she responds "Hot water bags?" He realizes his mistake and then offers, "Wanderlust?". When this is met with another confused look, he quickly segues into a commercial. Along with this awkward interview, which can be forgiven due to the fact that this is a German program with a host who is attempting to make his guest feel comfortable by speaking a language in which he is not fluent, the actual performance is interesting due to the fact that there is a large, muscular man in a security t-shirt prowling the stage protecting the young singer, flexing and seemingly inviting someone, anyone, to try and get at her. Not something that would fly here on American TV.
Another show was what appeared to be similar to TRL in which artists come on and are interviewed by a young, hip, host who asks them about their lives and music. Its title is "Wassup, Pluggers!", and is clearly one of the most awesome things I have ever seen. The set appears to have been designed and decorated by someone with ADD, a lot of different materials, and a mandate to use every possible color at least once. The host is dressed in clashing colors and patterns that seem to indicate that he's so cool, he's lucky not to have freezer burn. He throws around the "W" hand sign many times during the interview and says "Wassup!" a lot. I wish I had thought to name a show "Wassup, Pluggers!".
There were other clips from different shows, most of them of much higher quality and therefore not nearly as much fun to write about. As it turns out, from my brief foray into it, the TV side of French pop culture is pretty much the same as it is here, the only difference being the people performing it and the language in which it is performed. I assume that the same holds true for pop culture from other countries as well and maybe one day I might take the time to find out, but one of the other things I was reminded of in my search is that there is a reason why we don't have cable. American TV is bad enough most of the time, did I really expect it to get any better just because it is in a foreign language? Music is one thing, and I'll freely admit that part of the attraction to these songs is that they are in French which sounds so much cooler than English, but TV seems to be the same the world over.
Thus did my quest end, or at least take a sabbatical. My eyes have been opened to the fact that I can enjoy music in languages other than English, and I look forward to finding more international artists. Who knows? Perhaps I'll be into some Polish funk band next month.
Ready?
French people have different TV shows than we do.
I know. It blew my mind too.
Who knew that there are shows in French both hosted and watched by actual French people? Well, I assume that the actual French people who watch the shows knew this, and to continue on with my impeccable logic, the hosts themselves probably were made aware of this at some point in their careers, but did anyone outside of France know this? Why was I kept in the dark on this?
I guess I should clear something up a bit. It is not like I didn't know that French people had TV. I didn't assume that they all sat around all day eating baguettes and writing poetry while wearing berets under the Eiffel Tower. That would be hell on the digestive system. I was aware, at least on some level, that other countries have their own singers, actors, TV shows, etc, it is just that I had never really seen any of it aside from Monty Python, Dr. Who, the occasional nature documentary on the BBC, and a smattering of other things. Now I have seen actual snips from some actual French shows and I am a new person.
Let me back up a bit.
I am a member of a Tottenham Hotspur message board where people from England and many other countries post information regarding the team, possible player transfers, and basically anything that the members decide to post to take their minds off of the impending loss of key players to other teams. It is a great site and has become invaluable to me in keeping up with a sport and team that gets basically zero coverage here in the states. After learning that one of everyone's favorite players was probably going to be sold this summer, a poster started one such escapist thread and invited people to post pictures of their favorite European pop singers. On this thread someone posted a picture of this French singer, Alizee, and a link to one of her music videos. Like most men I know I have a thing for the French accent, and she was totally cute so I clicked to check it out. Turns out that not only is she cute, she can sing as well. I didn't understand anything she was singing, but I dug the voice and the beat to the song so I watched the whole thing.
I then jumped on Rhapsody to see if her catalog was online. It was, and I found myself enjoying the heck out of music which contained lyrics that I couldn't understand. It turns out that she has been around since she got her first record contract at the age of 16 in the year 2000, has released 3 albums, and was the top selling French female singer for 2001 (thanks, Wikipedia!). Also, just so you all don't think I am some sicko, the picture on the message board was of her 23 year old self, not the 16 year old version. Young is fine, jailbait not so much.
So here was this singer who has apparently been popular in Europe for about the last 8 years and I had never heard of her. That didn't bother me at first because, as I found out, her fan base here in this country is fairly limited. This is primarily due to the fact that roughly 0.61% of the population herein the good ol' USA speak French (thanks, National Virtual Translation Center!), and most of the rest of the population basically can't be bothered to care about anything not American made. However, it did start to bother me a bit. What else was I missing? I didn't want to close myself off to the rest of the pop culture in the world just because I lived in America. Granted, we make some kick ass movies and we do kinda rule when it comes to pop culture, but obviously there is more out there.
Thus did I begin the process of attempting to find more pop culture from different countries. Since I had already found a singer I liked, I thought I'd check out the TV side of things. I figured I'd start with France because I dig the accent and, to be honest, I was hoping to find more videos of Alizee. As it turns out, this is not a difficult thing to do. I quickly found one website that fit the bill perfectly in that it not only had music videos for the singles she had released, but also MANY videos of her being interviewed on French TV. Jackpot.
Often the interviews were in French with no subtitles, but every now and then someone had gone to the trouble of placing either English or Spanish subtitles on the videos. Since I can read Spanish fairly well and I have at least a passing understanding of the English language, this worked well for me. It was, however, most often more fun to watch the videos without subtitles because then I could concentrate on the sets and hosts of the shows rather than reading the words. I must say that I was rarely disappointed.
When I mentioned earlier that France had its own TV shows and how this changed me, I neglected to mention that some of them are, without a doubt, hilarious. In one of the video clips Alizee performs a song and then comes down to the interview section, much like a performer would on the Tonight Show or Letterman. However, it is there where the similarities end. The hosts of the show are a man and a woman, both of whom appear old enough to have been around when music was first invented, and they are sitting on a GIANT red couch that was probably 15 to 20 feet in length. Across the stage sits Alizee, on a similar GIANT red couch about 15 yards from the hosts. In the middle of the stage is this elaborate coffee table with all kinds of crap strewn about on it. The hosts spend much of the time sort of bickering with one another about who gets to ask the next question while the guest sits patiently and answers when they finally get around to acknowledging her. Not exactly a great interview, but how often do we get to see bickering hosts here? I loved every minute of it.
There is a second video which shows a German TV host interviewing Alizee in which he attempts to speak French with her. If the subtitles are to be believed, after complimenting her shoes he ends up accidentally asking her a variety of seemingly provocative questions including whether or not she enjoys "hot water bags". Clearly puzzled, she responds "Hot water bags?" He realizes his mistake and then offers, "Wanderlust?". When this is met with another confused look, he quickly segues into a commercial. Along with this awkward interview, which can be forgiven due to the fact that this is a German program with a host who is attempting to make his guest feel comfortable by speaking a language in which he is not fluent, the actual performance is interesting due to the fact that there is a large, muscular man in a security t-shirt prowling the stage protecting the young singer, flexing and seemingly inviting someone, anyone, to try and get at her. Not something that would fly here on American TV.
Another show was what appeared to be similar to TRL in which artists come on and are interviewed by a young, hip, host who asks them about their lives and music. Its title is "Wassup, Pluggers!", and is clearly one of the most awesome things I have ever seen. The set appears to have been designed and decorated by someone with ADD, a lot of different materials, and a mandate to use every possible color at least once. The host is dressed in clashing colors and patterns that seem to indicate that he's so cool, he's lucky not to have freezer burn. He throws around the "W" hand sign many times during the interview and says "Wassup!" a lot. I wish I had thought to name a show "Wassup, Pluggers!".
There were other clips from different shows, most of them of much higher quality and therefore not nearly as much fun to write about. As it turns out, from my brief foray into it, the TV side of French pop culture is pretty much the same as it is here, the only difference being the people performing it and the language in which it is performed. I assume that the same holds true for pop culture from other countries as well and maybe one day I might take the time to find out, but one of the other things I was reminded of in my search is that there is a reason why we don't have cable. American TV is bad enough most of the time, did I really expect it to get any better just because it is in a foreign language? Music is one thing, and I'll freely admit that part of the attraction to these songs is that they are in French which sounds so much cooler than English, but TV seems to be the same the world over.
Thus did my quest end, or at least take a sabbatical. My eyes have been opened to the fact that I can enjoy music in languages other than English, and I look forward to finding more international artists. Who knows? Perhaps I'll be into some Polish funk band next month.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
