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Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-16, 11:14 pm

luther vandross
Posts: 92
Location: Amsterdam
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The following is from an email I sent folks back home. It is very personal and maybe this forum is not the place for it, on the other hand, as it is about life in Amsterdam, it might be of some interest to you. But be forewarned, if you are too cynical about life to begin with, don't waste your time.

It has been almost seven weeks since I began my new life here in Holland and I'm sure many of you are wondering how things are going for me. With that in mind, let me recount my day today (Saturday), as I feel it is a representative slice of my life heretofore.

I got up a bit after 10am because I had a late night last night after meeting some new friends at the Hill Street Blues bar for a few adult beverages. I would have stayed in bed even longer, but I was facing a busy day: my basketball team had a game at 1:15 and I also had to work on my first big presentation for class this Monday, and I had yet to finish the book.
After rustling up some fried eggs (I have have to work on my egg shell cracking technique, these Dutch eggs are hard as heck!) and a big pot of steaming tea, I relaxed with my book, The Imperial Presidency, by Arthur Schlesinger. Before I new it, it was time to dress for the game, and in honor of the original man in black, Johnny Cash, I donned all black from head to toe. I then hopped on my bicycle and with Bruce and the E-Street boys blaring through my headset, off down the Prisengracht (the Prince's Canal for all you non-Dutchaphones). It was a brilliant Indian summer day in the city by the canals and as I pedaled furiously past the tourists teeming along the streets and canals, I remembered to thank the Big Man or Big Woman or Big Whatever upstairs for the blessed day! It would have been nice to stop and soak it all in, but I had many figurative miles to go before I could sleep, so I continued on my sojourn to the athletic hall out beyond the suburbs in the south of town.
When I got there, we took some team photos and then huddled up one last time right before tip-off. As I finished my final instructions (the typical stuff: hands up on dee, work the ball for a good shot, etc.), I then pointed out to my charges that I was dressed in all black because I was attending a funeral right after the game. The huddle got deathly quiet (pun intended) and then I broke in to a grin and said, "The funeral will be for our opponent" and then we all laughed and then with my hands grasped on top and below their pile of hands, and a chant of " 1-2-3 - Team!" it was time for the game to begin.
We started out slowly, but as I cajoled them from the sidelines with a bunch of coach speak such as "Follow your shot" and "Stop the ball", we gradually pulled in front of our tiring opponent, and we ended up winning by twenty points, our first win of the season and my first W ever as head coach (With a record of 1-1, I'm on my way to going after Dean Smith's record of number of victories!).
With my academic assignment hanging over my head, I barely had time to congratulate my boys as I headed back to my bike. As I walked out of the arena, I looked up towards the blue Dutch skies and quietly mumbled to myself, "Grandma, that one was for you."
Because the day was so I nice, I stopped at the nearby Beatrixpark to find a bench in the sun to do my reading. I read for quite some time and I as I read, the anger slowly swelled up in me. The reason for this was because I was reading about Tricky Dick Nixon and his dirty tricks and how it almost ruined our beloved country and our beloved Constitution. As the anger festered within me, my purpose during the presentation on Monday became crystal clear: I would have to impart on my twenty -something classmates, the Americans, the Dutch, the Germans, the Pole and the French woman, my recollections of these heinous acts and instill in them the truth about Richard Nixon: that he was a criminal and that his ass should have spent many years behind bars.
As I wearied from my reading and my anger, I put my book down and surveyed the park around me. It was still lush green, but many of the trees were turning a flaming red and orange, just like in the parks back home. I quickly noticed that most folks had a dog or two or three, and as I watched them play fetch with their beloved hounds, my view of our canine brothers and sisters quickly softened. I noticed how much joy these various hounds were bringing to their owners and how much joy they themselves took in this simple game of throw and fetch, on this beautiful autumn day in a park on the outskirts of Amsterdam.
Alas, it was not just the dogs that caught my eye as I sat on the park bench. An attractive fortyish woman, with her little dog in tow, had alighted from her bike nearby and began yet another game of pitch and catch. As I furtively observed her, I thought how I should go over to her and strike up a conversation. But because I thought she might be married, or have a boyfriend or even a girlfriend, or might just want to be left alone in the park with her dog, I decided to keep my powder dry for now, but I made a mental note of the time, the day, and the park, thinking to myself that maybe I would run into her again, and then, on that day, I would swallow my inhibitions and approach her. (Also, I figured I could use the time to come up with a better opening line than I had at that moment, which was, "Hey, what kind of dog is that?").
So back on my bike and back into town. But I was not yet in the mood to return to my little room along side the canal quite yet, and I knew I needed to continue my reading, so I decided to stop of at the Leidseplein (a popular square in town) for a cup of coffee at the Cafe Americain at the Hotel Americain. It is a lavish, art deco place, that takes you back to Hemingway's time. As I sat there with my coffee, sheepishly thinking I did not belong with the well-healed tourists and elegant locals, it dawned on me that I was indeed the dissheveled academic that gave places like this the color for the well-healed tourists and elegant locals. Imagine that, I was beginning to fit in.
After two cups and further reading, the coffee began to work on my bowels and I thougt I should head back home so I could take care of my very personal business in the privacy of my humble abode. But as I exited the hotel and entered the square, I saw all the people from all over the world, milling about, walking to and fro, and I temporarily forgot my bowel business and made an executive decision to make my immediate business walking around the square, watching my fellow humans as they enjoyed life on this beautiful day. After 10 minutes, though, it was back on the bike, to go home to vacate my bowels and to continue to fill my mind with the crimes of Richard Nixon.
On my way home, as I pedaled down the canal once again, I heard the clinging sounds of the Westerkerk (West Church) carillon sounding in the afternoon air, and as I neared my home, I looked over at the house that Anne had inhabited not so many years prior, and I thought how I had invoked her memory during my statement of motivation that I provided with my application to study here in Amsterdam. In that I had written, "As one can see, history is much more to me than a bunch of hefty tomes collecting dust on a shelf. I feel touched by history and connected to it. I am moved every time I am in Amsterdam and I am walking near the Westerkerk and I hear its carillon bells ringing. I think about how sixty years prior, a brave, intelligent girl must have heard the same bells chiming from her hideout a few doors away. Melancholy descends upon me like a fog as I think these thoughts, and I think how the only way I can honor that extraordinary girl’s memory is to pursue my dreams, no matter how modest they might be."
As I disembarked from my bike, a grin crossed my face, as I thought, how, for one day at least, I had kept my bargain with Anne.

_________________
So we beat on, boats against he current....
Re: Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-16, 11:26 pm

ignatbandit
Posts: 120
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Nice post man - that sent me back to Amsterdam.

Your post seemed so..."clean" i.e. no depravity, deviancy or debauchery ;-)
Re: Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-17, 2:42 am

PARAQUAT
Posts: 171
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Hi L V,

Thank you for that eloquent trip to Amsterdam. I must say competition, love, self awareness, you are a hopeless romantic my friend :-) I am glad that you have started to find yourself at home.

And from one coach to another congrats on your first win and hopes for many more.

I am off to NY in the morning so I won't be on line this week but when I get home I'll PM you.

Peace,
Paraquat
Re: Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-17, 7:27 am

luther vandross
Posts: 92
Location: Amsterdam
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P-man,

Thanks for the shout out.
Remember, the only thing worse than a hopeless romantic is a hopeful one....

_________________
So we beat on, boats against he current....
Re: Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-17, 6:31 pm

axxxtw Founder
Posts: 910
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This forum IS always the place for posts of this kind. It has always been so.

We state our purpose plainly on the index page..."All things Amsterdam. The red light district, coffeeshops, hotels, tourism & etc. Share tips and experiences, read and write trip reports and reviews. Get the most out of a visit to the city"

We think that that covers, erm, all things Amsterdam. Sex and drugs are just a small part of the fabric that constitutes the city and our intentions have always been to reflect that fabric. Perhaps that is the difficult part to grasp for those who come here with one intention only.

Posts such as yours are a site for sore eyes...we'd like to see many more...;-)

Great job, Luther.

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wash your hands.
Re: Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-18, 3:23 pm

block
Posts: 458
Location: Texas 2
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Great post Luther!! I can sure relate.I wished that I could have met up with ya earlier this month but Lord willing and if the creeks don't rise I will be returning to Holland in the near future.I intend to post a short review in a few days.Once again thanks for the insightful post.

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"I sure learned a lot from Bill Evans"

Miles Davis
Re: Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-20, 1:22 am

StarrDluX
Posts: 195
Location: Atlanta, GA
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killer report but i have to tell ya...

as i was making my coffee this morning *all* i could think about was your use of the word "bowel". OMFG ~ keep it out of your letters home love... as out of all of the amazing things you wrote "bowel" wasn't the one i wanted to remember...

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Good girls go to heaven ~ Bad girls go everywhere.... ta ~ starr
Re: Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-20, 10:50 am

luther vandross
Posts: 92
Location: Amsterdam
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It's a European thing, girlfriend. You Southern Belles woudln't understand....
Seriously, I was trying to be a bit on the humorous side and at the time I wrote it I wasn't thinking about posting it. Next time, I'll leave out the bodily functions.

_________________
So we beat on, boats against he current....
Re: Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-20, 5:58 pm

StarrDluX
Posts: 195
Location: Atlanta, GA
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hey you ~ you can't blame a girl for tryin :)

Southern belle - hah!! I spose it's true.. Although I am a Westernern/raised by a Yankee & old school Southerner in the South to be exact!

Ta ~ starr

_________________
Good girls go to heaven ~ Bad girls go everywhere.... ta ~ starr
Re: Not about sex and not about drugs, just my life in AD.
Posted: 2005-10-20, 10:24 pm

curiious
Posts: 55
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going home to use the bathroom when you're in amsterdam...
HA! I know that feeling, when the public bathrooms around you are so small you almost have to sit on the toilet to close the door behind you ; ) It makes american bathrooms feel enormous, so filled with empty space! I feel a bit guilty using a bakery's bathroom and leaving without buying something, whether i wanted it or not. I know I've bought pastries at bakeries all over town just so I could say, by the way, may I use your toilet? And depending on what part of town you're in there may not be very many clean spacious public bathrooms available, not to mention many business owners are a little upset if you just walk in to use their bathroom and then walk out without buying anything, they won't mind telling you they don't appreciate it. Especially if you're not recognized as a regular or someone who sits around for a little while afterwards, like you meant to come here, not just stopping by to 'drop off a little something' on your way home. And a few places (central station and others) are quite up front about it, it costs money to use the bathroom (not much. maybe 25 or 35 cents or so), and it is true that it costs them money to keep it clean and stocked with soap & toilet paper.
I found that I had places in amsterdam I liked to hang out in various parts of town and if I needed to use the bathroom I'd just head for one of those places, use their bathrooms for free and then pick up a little something while you're at the store.
Quite different from Basel (switzerland), where a disco on the 20th floor (top floor I think) or so has floor to ceiling windows in the bathroom, (free public bathroom access. $17 for a long island ice tea if you stay for a drink.) and I know a few friends who have walked all the way there and taken the elevator up 20 floors just to use their bathroom with it's lovely view of the whole city from the toilet. Probably it's the tallest building in the city, you can see for at least 25 miles from the toilet. Quite relaxing.
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