Thursday, February 28, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Punk rock and language wars
Alright, I hereby implore all you music fans and/or linguistics nuts out there to comment on the following video. Well, not so much on the video, but more on the fact that the bands in the video (two of which are comprised, in part, by my students) sing in English. Why is it that English has become the standard for pop music even among those who can't understand it?
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
It's official...
...we will be returning to the States. We bought plane tickets for the flight home on May 17th.
On a more interesting note: after having gone through the 3/4 liter bottle of top-notch olive oil from our visit to the Italian coast, our stores were in desperate need of replenishment. Luckily, and for no apparent reason, we have a small Italian grocer in our little town here in the North of France, so we went to check out their selection. There were about three to choose from, one I recognized from the States, a bucolic scene printed on the label, quaint and earthy Italians trying to get me to believe they had freshly pressed the bottle's extra-virgin contents. We picked up another bottle (less forcefully marketed and thus more authentic seeming) when the shopkeeper asked us if there was anything he could help us with. I said, "No, we're just looking for some olive oil," hoping he would then comment on the quality of our selection. He one-upped me and told us that if we brought an empty bottle, he had some artisanal stuff made in the South of Italy by his cousin. We gladly put the bastardized oil back on the shelf and returned toute de suite. It was only seven euros to fill our 3/4 liter bottle and it tastes great. I know you're all jealous now. Don't you wish you had a local Italian grocer with sweet hook-ups?
This Saturday we begin yet another (not the last) two-week vacation during our sojourn abroad. We will be off to southern Spain for a week to visit Suzy and Greg where, hopefully, it will be significantly warmer and drier than dreary Denain.
On a more interesting note: after having gone through the 3/4 liter bottle of top-notch olive oil from our visit to the Italian coast, our stores were in desperate need of replenishment. Luckily, and for no apparent reason, we have a small Italian grocer in our little town here in the North of France, so we went to check out their selection. There were about three to choose from, one I recognized from the States, a bucolic scene printed on the label, quaint and earthy Italians trying to get me to believe they had freshly pressed the bottle's extra-virgin contents. We picked up another bottle (less forcefully marketed and thus more authentic seeming) when the shopkeeper asked us if there was anything he could help us with. I said, "No, we're just looking for some olive oil," hoping he would then comment on the quality of our selection. He one-upped me and told us that if we brought an empty bottle, he had some artisanal stuff made in the South of Italy by his cousin. We gladly put the bastardized oil back on the shelf and returned toute de suite. It was only seven euros to fill our 3/4 liter bottle and it tastes great. I know you're all jealous now. Don't you wish you had a local Italian grocer with sweet hook-ups?
This Saturday we begin yet another (not the last) two-week vacation during our sojourn abroad. We will be off to southern Spain for a week to visit Suzy and Greg where, hopefully, it will be significantly warmer and drier than dreary Denain.
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