Saga of the lamp, continued

Those of you who were reading this blog around this time last year might remember the Saga of the Lamp, wherein some maids broke my cool lamp and, instead of reimbursing me for it, just bought me a new lamp.

This is an update to the Saga.

I have broken that lamp.

I was wearing some big clunky shoes and standing at my desk, then just took an innocent little step backwards. It was enough to catch the bottom part of my nightstand and send the entire contents crashing to the floor. Needless to say, the frosted glass was not made to withstand such an impact.

So we bid farewell to yet another lamp. I have purchased another one from Target and you may notice that it is much less breakable. I intend to stop this curse in its tracks.

It's really tracking well

I'm getting used to some of the changes that have happened around here while I was gone. The new CTA Bus Tracker was just getting off the ground as I was leaving and since I primarily used the El back then, I really had no use for it. Now that my destinations are slightly more varied, I've enjoyed trying it out.

Basically, through any computer or "web-enabled mobile device," you enter where you are and which way you're headed and they'll tell you when the next bus will be along. It only works for certain bus lines currently, probably because putting that information up for the 22 Clark bus would involve a branch of hyper-mathematics that hasn't been invented yet.

The upside of this is that when it's really cold in Chicago (i.e. now until late April), you can use the Bus Tracker to time your departure to spend as little time in the cold as possible. I tried it the other day as I was headed to the 8 Halsted bus.

Initial verdict: It has completely revolutionized the way I barely miss buses.

Home again

It should come as a surprise to very few that I seriously neglected this blog in the waning days of our contract and the subsequent return home. For anyone who has followed the writings contained herein for any length of time, it is a pattern that should be considered inevitable.

Now that I'm back and settled in, I shall endeavor to be more faithful in writing. This too, is part of the aforementioned pattern.

I fear that my life currently will yield very little in terms of exciting updates. I am unemployed and still trying to figure out where groceries come from. The most exciting thing happening at the moment is the fact that it is snowing quite heavily outside. See? Fascinating.

So if I occasionally dip back into the archives and bring up a photo from our overseas adventures to discuss, you'll have to forgive me for the lack of continuity.

But to start things off, it's nice to be home. Below is a clip of a band I just discovered. I love that I live in a country where this is a valid aesthetic choice for a musical group.

The fact that they recently opened for Electric Six should surprise no one.

Coming home

Republished from The Jade Journal

The funny thing about finally going home after four months at sea is how everything is pretty much how you left it.

Sure, some things are different. There's a new president-elect. There are two new haircutting places within a block of your apartment. And instead of parking meters on Clark Street, there's some sort of new-fangled electronic parking box. (How long were you gone? Is this what the future looks like?)

But most things are pretty much the same. Your room looks like you remember and you still hear sirens go by with unsettling frequency. The #9 at Jimmy Johns still tastes great. The guy at the dry cleaners downstairs is still very friendly, despite the fact that you are both uncomfortably unsure of each others' names.

It's just weird to think that you've had all of these amazing experiences jam-packed into four months while the vast majority of people were going about their normal routines. And you wish you could explain it in some way, any way that makes sense and doesn't take four hours and hundreds of pictures.

But you can't. And that's okay. Because the only thing that's really changed around here is you.

And I guess that's the point.


(Thanks to my fellow castmates, especially Jessica for starting this blog and encouraging us to write. And to everyone at Second City for this amazing opportunity. And most definitely to Rebecca for not killing me despite four months of too-close quarters and too-violent video games.)

For example, today is Istanbul Day. That's the most I know.

Republished from The Jade Journal

The funny thing about renting DVDs from the crew store is that you have absolutely no idea when they’re due back.

Let me explain – on the ship, there is a great crew welfare department that is responsible for, well, crew welfare. The crew welfare people do many things to keep crew members happy, healthy and drunk.

They organize crew excursions to Cairo and other cool places, which is nice because it’s absolutely essential to have an armed security guard travel with you to Cairo and they’re so expensive to hire for just a few people. Better to have 40 crew members and one guard. You know, spread the cost around.

They throw parties in the crew bar and give away free beer for just about any reason imaginable. Most frequently, they’re for some country’s Independence Day although these seem to happen with suspicious frequency. In fact, in the three months I’ve been on the ship, I think we’ve celebrated India’s twice.

And of course, they run the crew store. This is where you can stock up on essentials – toothpaste, deodorant, dried mango slices and strange foreign juices…anything you need to make you feel at home, regardless of what country you’re from. This is also where you can rent DVDs, which brings me back to the problem.

It’s not that they don’t tell you how long you can keep the DVDs. They do: 3 days for a movie, 7 for a TV series. It’s just that these terms, and really, time itself, hold relatively little meaning in this environment.

Most of the time we have absolutely no idea what day it is. We know we tip our room stewards on Sunday and get paid on Wednesday, but often even those pass us by without fanfare or notice. (Sorry Juana!) The only way we mark time is knowing if we have a show tonight and what port we happen to be in.

So telling me this DVD set of Battlestar Galactica: Season Three is due back next Thursday does me no good. We might as well be using a Mayan calendar and saying it’s due back next Quetzalcoatl, so could you just print me out a reminder card? Thanks.

Public bathing in foreign lands

Republished from The Jade Journal

The funny thing about Turkish baths is how decidedly non-bath-centric they are.

This is not to imply that they are not cleansing. Indeed, afterwards I felt as though my very soul had been purified.

But they don’t involve public bathing so much as sweating and steam and burly men with mustaches rubbing you down and anointing you with oil. And yes – let’s address this, as it’s bound to come up eventually – that sounds pretty gay.

But it’s not. It’s awesome. Which is not to say that gay stuff can’t be awesome but I just don’t have time to get into the transitive property right now.

Here’s what happens – you change out of your clothes and into a little towel thing and head into the main room. This is a large open room with a circular marble slab in the middle and bathing stations around the outside of the circle. The slab is somehow heated to a really high temperature (Possibly magic?). Everything is silent and still. Unless there is a noise, in which case it reverberates around the room for the next five minutes. It is here, as you’re laying on the marble slab and beginning to heavily perspire while the Muslim call to prayer softly echoes outside and you don’t quite know what happens next, that you really start to wonder what your life is right now and how you came to be in it.

Then all such thoughts are swept from your mind as the burly men with mustaches arrive and soapsuds come out of nowhere and suddenly you are getting roughly exfoliated by a dude. After you come to terms with this, it is a relatively peaceful experience until they douse you with cold water and demand a tip.

Then, if you sprang for the luxury treatment, you are taken into another room, placed on a massage table, and told to relax while another burly man plays “Find the Knots of Tension and Make Them Explode!” After a lot of this, some scented oils and some stereotypical massage karate chopping, he also demands a tip.

If you want, you can go hang out on the slab some more and think about your life, but at that point I was tired and really wanted a gyro. So I got one. And it was the most relaxed I’ve ever been while eating a gyro.

It's Rebecca's nightmare!

From Mykonos III 16.10.08

Check out this huge bird in Mykonos! Ha ha! Awesome!

International flavour

From Mykonos II 10.10.08

One of the interesting things about being overseas is all the fantastically interesting flavors of things we come across. Or should I say flavours.

Chips, mostly. Oregano, paprika, hot dog, ketchup - they really go for flavours beyond the normal stuff we're used to.

Which is why we were so excited to try this banana-flavoured cola that Cody had been telling us about. That excitement dissipated with the first grimace-inducing sip, but we were still delighted by the yellow monkey spokesman.

Jerry! You infidel!

From Cairo, Egypt 26&27.09.08

I don't know why seeing Seinfeld on Cairo TV with Arabic subtitles delighted me so, but it did.

Non-Greek heritage

From Athens II 01.10.08

We were fortunate enough to enjoy the company of my parents last cruise. Here's my mom and I on Mars Hill (which has at least two other names, thanks to the many cultures who have laid claim to it at one point or another). It's believed to be the rock from which the apostle Paul preached to the Athenians. I think having a picture taken there got her extra credit in Bible study.

When my dad got off the shuttle from the airport, he looked like death. He was sick before he left and traveling overseas, compounded with crazy jet lag, doesn't make for a quick recovery. He spent the first few days in bed, but recovered enough to watch the first show from the front row. And then the next four from the same spot. With my mom. True to form, they liked everything but liked Rebecca and I doing our synchronized swimming act the best.

It's nice to have parents who support what you're doing and come to your shows. Hopefully they won't have to come halfway around the world to see the next one.

It would be impolite not to

From Istanbul, Turkey I 18.09.08

When in Istanbul, it's customary to consume Turkish beer and Turkish hookah.

My friend Matt Mages said of this picture, "This photo pretty much sums up how I always expected your engagement to look."

I like that.

He's really great

From Corfu, Greece 03.10.08

We found this guy sitting on a street in Corfu, Greece. Rebecca pretended to take a picture of me but really just took one of him.

I wish we spoke the same language so he could tell me everything about his life. I'm not sure, but I think I may want to be him when I grow up.

It makes sense

From Jumpin' From Jesse

Because when you're in front of the pyramids and the sphinx, the first thought that should come to your mind is, "Let's pretend like we're in High School Musical."

Remarkably accurate

From Istanbul, Turkey I 18.09.08

I promised I'd find my rabbit-foretold fortune, so here are both Rebecca's and mine, reprinted verbatim. Straight from the rabbit's mouth.

Rebecca's bunny fortune:

47. dont think about the person on your mind to much..dont stop to prayer your god..you will have so much money from the lottery..

My bunny fortune:

41. you couldnt get your wishes until now..you found bad things after you made good things..you couldnt find your way..but dont give up..if your heart clean you will make everthing you want to do..you will find your labour's responce.

I find them both pretty encouraging. Thanks, rabbits!

They also spit sometimes

From Cairo, Egypt 26&27.09.08

The funny thing about riding a camel are the takeoffs and landings.

I take that back. Those are the hardest things.

The funny thing about it is that everyone in the general vicinity REALLY WANTS YOU TO RIDE A CAMEL AND THEIRS IS THE BEST CAMEL AND GREAT DEAL MY FRIEND MY FRIEND YOU WANT CAMEL RIDE MY FRIEND?!

I take that back as well. That is the annoying thing.

The funny thing about riding a camel is the camel. They are inherently hilarious creatures. With their long, flexible necks and their expressions that kind of look like they're smiling and kind of look like they're exasperated. And their humps! Come on! They are a creature with humps!

They truly are ridiculous creatures. I am convinced God created them to give nomads something to laugh about while traversing the desert. Because face it, there isn't much else out there to make the nomads chuckle. And if there's anything I know about long trips across the Sahara, it's that you've got to keep your sense of humor.

But seriously, the takeoffs and landings are hard. Are there more camel-specific terms I should be using to refer to when the camel stands up with you on its back and then sits down again? If there are, I don't know them. All I know is that camels have four legs and they can only fully extend two at a time from a seated position, so you better lean the heck back if you don't want to take a tumble.

Also, don't let the camel man take you too far away from the pyramids. He may call you his friend, but he can quickly become your friend who needs another ten dollars if you want to make the return trip.

Finally, don't drink the water in Cairo. Yikes.


(This is a duplicate of my blog posting over at The Jade Journal, a blog from myself and the rest of my castmates on the ship. Check it out!)

They just know

From Istanbul, Turkey I 18.09.08

In Istanbul, they have fortune-telling rabbits.

This is not something I expected to see on my travels but am nonetheless pleasantly surprised.

This nice man will charge you 2 lira and then hold a wooden block with several small pieces of paper sticking out of it in front of one of the rabbits. The rabbit then picks up one of the pieces and deposits it in the man's hand. This is your fortune, chosen and foretold by a rabbit.

It then says, in very broken English, things like "You should not prayer to your God" and "You will win much money in the lottery." I'll look up my actual one and post it later. But I feel pretty good about what the rabbit foretold.

P.S. Hi from a bowling alley in Iraklion on the island of Crete. Again, it doesn't make much sense to me either, but they have free wi-fi, cheap bowling and good milkshakes. Feels a little like home.

P.P.S. Coming up next, pyramids!

International diplomacy

In Lisbon, they make the best breakfast pastries imaginable. We hop on a train every time we're there and go to a different district just for these puppies. We also eat lunch at the same chicken place every time - Conjardim. They make the best chicken in the world. We also enjoy their Vino Verde - green wine. Not really green, it's a really light, sweet and refreshing white wine that is relatively inexpensive.

Lisbon, you are winning.

Rebecca and I taught a workshop today called Klass Klowns - Improv for Kids. Actually, they don't spell those words with K's, but they should. We had about 8 kids turn out for the workshop.

Half spoke no English. This presented a problem.

Fortunately, it turns out that Zip Zap Zop and Pass the Clap are universal.

Thank goodness for silly improv warmups. We should teach them to our ambassadors.

A mystery no longer

So I solved Stonehenge. Turns out, it wasn't that hard. The way I see it, about 4000 years ago, some tribesmen were like, "You know what will be really big in the future? Tourism. Let's put up some rocks for people to puzzle over."

Case closed.



One of the best attractions at the amusement park that is Stonehenge was this guy, an actual druid named, no joke, Arthur Pendragon. Apparently he's mad about some promises the English government made about taking the fence around Stonehenge down. They haven't done it, so he's out there every day in protest. Hence the tan and leathery skin.

I taped Nick interviewing him because he hoped he'd be crazy and hilarious. Sadly, he was quite normal and well-spoken. Just really passionate about this issue, I guess. The funniest thing about him was watching him use his cell phone.

Or as the Brits call it, his mobile. I guess it's okay for druids to use them now?

Picture picture

Oh, and because everyone loves looking at other people's vacation pictures, (even though we're not on vacation - we're working, thank you very much) you can check out photos of our travels at picasaweb.google.com/timothyryder

This is Rebecca and I next to a cool fountain in Lisbon. Occasionally the fountain erupts like a volcano in an attempt to drench people posing next to it. This is hilarious if it is not you.

(It was not us.)

I am currently writing this in an Australian bar in Vigo, Spain. I don't understand it either, but they have fast Internet and Olympic field hockey on the TVs. It's fun.

Hot Fathers

Rome is interesting because of its old stuff. Most of that stuff is connected to Roman Catholicism in some way, so there is a ton of Catholic stuff around. A lot of Rome is like walking through a Catholic Wal-Mart, only it's outside and all the wares are in carts on the sides of the aisles, which are streets.

Above is a picture of me with a 2009 calendar of - no joke - hot young priests. It is the ultimate in forbidden fruit. They are attractive young men, clearly with good values, but they are extremely unavailable. Seriously. They have taken a vow of celibacy and you don't just go around breaking those willy-nilly.

Apparently this is attractive to some people? Do ladies just enjoy tormenting themselves with guys they know are great but can never have? Or are they specifically for Catholic mothers to point to while chastising their daughters and say, "Why can't you date a nice young man like Mr. August, only not a priest?"

It's worth noting that I did not buy the calendar as I am waiting for the one with hot young nuns.