9:05 PM// You don't know Terri Schiavo, and neither do I.

Thousands of people die every day. Every day hundreds of people are fatal victims of gun violence in the USA alone. Thousands of children succumb to starvation every day, and they weren't in a "persistent vegetative state". Why aren't these protesters crying for them? I'm not saying they don't care about world hunger, but many people are not just protesting what has become an unfortunate political issue. They are truly moved by the Schiavo woman. Crying. Praying. For a woman they had never heard of before she was brain dead. Do they know what kind of person she is? Her morals? Was she kind or mean? Gentle or harsh? Generous or greedy? They have no idea.

…we're making a huge fuss over one woman who is already dead anyway, ignoring the hundreds who succumbed to starvation or AIDS while reading this article.

It is certainly a sticky issue. I'm glad the decision is not up to me, because I still don't know what I would do. But will I shed any tears over this woman I've never met, who has had no impact on my life or anyone I know, and who has been completely brain-dead since I was eight years old? I'm sorry, but I just can't. Just like I won't shed tears for the hundreds of people that will die today in a car accident, or those suffering from malicious tumors, tragic as those ailments are. And neither will you.

So why have masses of "the religious right" taken up candle-light vigils outside the hospital? Why do they value the plight of this brain-dead woman they've never known over the plight of that little Uganda kid we see in the TV ad next to Sally Struthers? Because Schiavo is closer to home? If it could happen to her, it could happen to you? It's easy to dissociate yourself from starving kids in Africa, a culture you'll probably never experience first hand. But Terri Schiavo "lives" right there in Florida.

The difference is that we can decide if Schiavo lives or dies, but victims of gun violence are already dead and you're not the one that pulled the trigger. Stroke, heart disease, motor vehicles, cancer, floods, hurricanes are all unfortunate things that happen. But why don't these same people camp outside of the Whitehouse begging the administration to send further aid to Africa, or other third world locations? That is a choice, and while we generally agree more needs to be done, we're making a huge fuss over one woman who is already dead anyway, ignoring the hundreds who succumbed to starvation or AIDS while reading this article. Because they didn't have enough food. Or medicine. Or people who care enough to shed a tear. Terri Schiavo has the monopoly on that.

9:26 PM// Spanish? Nice Mullet.

You know what Spain is? The US in the 80's. Mullets and American 80's music abound. Seriously. And the worst part? You probably think I'm talking about the men. Well, they have mullets too; but I'm talking mostly about the women. Yep, the mullet is in vogue in Spain. Women actually pay to have their once beautiful hair cut short in the front and oddly layered in the back. {Shiver}. Outside of a museum in Madrid, I actually saw a woman with an exceptionally short haircut all over (think nearly shaved) and a foot-long rat tail in the back. An actual rat-tail. I thought they were hideous when I was in second grade, and I think so now, too. MacGuyver would fit in nicely there.

Hopefully, this fad will only go on for a few years, and then everyone will come to their senses and say, "what the Hell were we thinking?!" After all, that's pretty much what happened to Americans in the early 90's. Men are even better. The new fad for men is to nearly shave the sides of the head, leaving a near mohawk on top, continuing down the back, for a nice six inch mullet. Then be sure to add plenty of product so you look like a drowned rat. What's really interesting? Go to an Asian restaurant in Spain. Even the chinese waiters have mullets. Freaky.

It's not all mullets

Mullets aside, I could get used to the lifestyle. 30-35 hour work weeks. Two hour lunch breaks. Wine with everything. Late dinners. Paella with "fruits of the sea". Ironically their sense of style is very European -- clothing, shoes, hair product, "popped" collars -- but then they all have mullets. Go figure.

I had the good fortune to stay with a Spanish family for about a week. Lunch is the big meal of the day (like American & French supper). It starts about 2 or 3 o'clock and lasts one to two hours. Wine comes standard. Our Spanish family sometimes drinks the wine from a wine skin held several feet from the mouth, so that the wine has time to properly breath before reaching the palette. They made sangria and paella (which is basically risotto). Dinner is about 10 o'clock, but it's really more like a snack. It's not a serious event. Tapas and beer maybe.

Marriage

Our Spanish father had much to say on the topic of marriage, including the ridiculousness of coupling before the age of 29. Also, women are witches who know everything, so don't try hiding it. Be sure to use "preservatives" during sex (which is "muy bien") even if she says she's on birth control, otherwise her tummy will expand rapidly and a ring will find its way to your finger. Needless to say, the hand-gesturing, pelvic thrusting version of this story from a man missing the top three buttons on his shirt is much more engaging and effective.

Spaniards usually live with their parents until they get married (around 30). This is partially due to a simply cultural difference and the cost of living alone. Most people do not have jobs while in school like nearly all Americans do, so they could not afford to live outside mom and dad's place. While it seems like it may be difficult to court anyone while under the parents' roof, Spanish dates are allowed to enter each other's bedrooms undisturbed by parents (usually).

The Perks of Police Work

Our Spanish father is a cop. As such, he knows a great deal about Spanish law. For instance, we learned that while it is illegal to grow, sell, or buy marijuana, it is perfectly legal to possess and consume in one's own home. This as we were shown an impressive pipe and hasheesh collection.

Also, these Spaniards had quite an impressive CD collection, although most of them seemed to be burned. This wasn't particularly surprising since the father had an equally impressive DVD collection, obtained by pirating rented DVDs. He also used a peer-to-peer file sharing program to download the latest computer games and filmed-in-the-theather movies.

When we left, the father gave Katie and I a huge stack of burned CDs, complete with a copy of the jewel case cover artwork and track listing. We thought he was either extremely generous, or trying to unload his less desirable CDs to some appreciative young travelers. Then Katie had an insight: these CDs look an awful lot like the kind street vendors sell illegally. The kind that might be confiscated by Spanish policemen. And subsequently given away as gifts? Well, I'm working my way through them during this writing. Some are an interesting dose of culture, and others are not so good. But it's an experience.

Oh, and Picasso was a disturbed, crazy genius, and Spain is cheaper than France.

9:25 PM// French? Sorry, we're out of that.

In my infinte wisdom, I've decided that the epitome of Frenchiness is to offer the following response to any first request: "No." May I have a baquette? No. I'd like one Leffe, please. We're all out of that kind of beer.

Last week I went to Paris for a few days for some cheese and wine. One in three waiters told me I couldn't have my first desire. If it wasn't pre-made, or if it took a bit more effort to prepare than any other menu item, it was unavailable. If it is a pre-made sandwich, don't ask for it sans tomatoes. But is this annoying? Insensitive? Rude? Hardly. On the contrary, I think it's rude for a customer to expect such treatment from a waiter or clerk. They are there to process a business exchange, not be your servant.

Waiters

What is the American obsession with French waiter rudeness? I've heard a few stories of truly rude French waiters, but I think it mostly stems from a cultural difference in which the French are being extraordinarily patient and attentive. With the American culture attitude of rush, rush, rush, we forget that there are some areas of the World that haven't forgotten how to savor a moment. French waiters take your order, bring your food, and then LEAVE YOU ALONE. Thank God. I hate being bothered every 36 seconds to see if I need more bread, tap water, or anything else. What a waste. If I need something, I'll ask for it, thank you. Constant nagging implies I'm being pushed to continue my meal. And why bring me the check before I'm ready to leave? How appalling; we call the French rude? Is there a more obviously rude message than "here's your bill, now please pay and get out so we can serve another party"?

To truly experience what a waiter should be, order a multicourse meal in France. In America, one may get an appetizer, but the main course is served when it's ready. How about you serve it when I'm ready? A good waiter waits until everyone's predinner aperitif is just above the bottom of the glass before serving the first course. Dinner out isn't supposed to simply replenish the body with fuel; it's an integral social event of society. Take your time; enjoy the company; savor the food and drink. When everyone slows down or pushes aside the first course, then take up the plates, decrumb the table, and lay new place settings (none of this "would you like to keep your fork, sir").

Most perceptions of French rudeness come from a misunderstanding of this no-rush attitude. Not checking up on a table every five seconds may be seen as rude by the Olive Garden frequenter, but French waiters are incredibly attentive. They are like sentinels, pacing through the restaurant or standing in a corner scanning the room. If you want something, it takes about 2.3 seconds to get the waiter's attention, who immediately comes rushing to your aide. But they never suggest you should alter the speed of your meal or should prepare to leave by offering the bill.

It's not just waiters, either. Store clerks watch closely but never presume to interfere unless signaled. Unlike the States, where you are assaulted with a barrage of "need anything? Can I offer assistance? Please?" moments after entering the store (think Best Buy). I've actually avoided aisles in Best Buy just so another employee won't ask me how he can best assist me. You can best assist me by staying out of my way while I browse. If I need to locate something specific, I'll ask; have no fear.

Food

Wow. I mean wow. No wonder they leave you in peace. I want to savor every moment of the freshest cheeses and best wines in the World. Coffee? No contest. They told me it would be good. Everything I'd heard was true. {Tear}.

Style

Well, it does seem that France has more than its share of gay men (or perhaps more are simply willing to admit it). But those that aren't gay are what an American would call "metrosexual". (One who embraces the stereotypical gay lifestyle including caring about fashion, personal hygiene, and hair product -- everything except sleeping with other men.) Wait just a moment. Fashion and personal hygiene are metrosexual? Looked down upon and made fun of by popular America? No wonder men can't figure out why they come home alone night after night. Disheveled hair, jeans and teeshirt, outdated shoes, bad breath, 3-day stubble. Who wouldn't go home with this prize? But Heaven forbid men try to dress nicely and comb their hair; they might make themselves gay!

I decided to take a break from museums for a day and humor my girlfriend by going shoe shopping in Paris one day. I wondered down to the men's section, and found, for the first time, that I could be excited about shopping for shoes. Incredible. Me. I only buy shoes once every two years. I had what she called "old man shoes". Comfortable, but lacking in any sense of style. Well, now I have stylish (and comfortable) shoes, and there are others I'd like to look for. Imagine that -- I actually want to go into shoe stores to look for a particular kind of shoe I saw other men wearing.

Anyway, you should go to France. It's awesome. Oh and there are some pretty moving pieces of art, too.