Fourth of July movie marathon

So I'm here on the couch on the Fourth of July with a half-filled Corona (always the optomist) and a belly full of chips and salsa and am in the middle of my pirated movie marathon. It's exactly the type of Independence Day festival our founding fathers dreamed about us kiddies having.

So far, I've watched "Sicko," "Ratatouille," "Deliver us from Evil," and "Can we Save Planet Earth?". I'm currently downloading "Miss Potter" and "1408" for tonight, as a romantic comedy and a horror film will round out the marathon (so far two documentaries, one animation, and a BBC piece) nicely, I think.

I wanted to give a shoutout to my peeps. I love your marshmellowy rockingness, peeps. If only Easter came more than once a year.

And I also wanted to fill you all in on some recent exciting work travel I've been up to. In early June I went to the southeastern Romanian port town of Constanta where the Army is quickly building a rather sizable base for incoming troops. The trip was short (only one night), but I flew in a military plane, ate lots of Romanian food (including this one divine double fried doughnut with cream AND jelly), and realized that Romania is not the place for me. Or, for that matter, for anyone interested in the luxury of not living with the mafia .... despite the double fried doughnut.

The area near the base was probably nice, though. It was on the Black Sea coast, the food was cheap and Italian in flavor, and there weather is probably outstanding for most of the year. But I heard so many rumors about the mob swindling citizens that they must have been true. Plus, I like it here in the center of Europe where traveling is cheap and trains are on time.

Last week I was in Georgia, the small mountainous country in the upper Caucasus mountains, on the border of Turkey, Russia, Azerbaijan, and Armenia. I landed in Tbilisi, the capital, which is a neglected city where the citizens haven't yet gotten the hang of the post-Soviet do-it-yourself-because-the-government-doesn't-care-anymore attitude. As such, the roads were littered and potholed, the buildings were falling apart, and there were lots of "street people" begging for change. However, with all that said, I still very much enjoyed the city, which is beautifully set on both sides of a gushing river - the high, cliffy side and the low hilly side. It was alive with small shop owners, street vendors, and in one part, outdoor cafes. People were shopping and taking buses and talking on cell phones in the streets. I wouldn't exactly call it European, but it wasn't too far off. Perhaps I'd crudely call it "Cauc-pean."

After Tbilisi I went to the Black Sea coast (the other side of the Black Sea from Romania). It was here the previous week that newspapers had reported that torrential flooding had contaminated the water supply in coastal towns. Forgetting that completely when I went, the first thing I did when I arrived at the beachy hotel on the coast was put on my bathing suit (which was actually a used pair of gym shorts) and head for the water, which delightfully sparkled in the 80-degree and sunny weather. Without hesitation I got in. I was eager, you see, because I had been to the Black Sea coast of Georgia before and loved the combination of leafy palm trees and snowcapped mountains, both of which could easily be seen in multiple directions. But my previous visit was in February, where the waves called out to me, but my Polar Bear Club membership was sadly expired.

So, there I was, up to my calves in the cool but refreshing water, just getting used to the current and taking in the beautiful snow-capped landscape before me. It was warm outside, but not too warm. In fact, almost perfect. This was my second sea adventure this year (the first being in the Mediterranean in the Italian Riviera in April) but the first one in warm water. I looked down at the water to watch the waves wash against me. And that's when I saw it. Not a jelly fish or a crab or another usual sea site. This was a big old brown terd floating toward me. It was then I remembered the contaminated water report and thought back to the days when I was a lifeguard and they'd have to close the pool because of dooky. But I'm no dooky-phobe, I thought. I know lots of things poop in the ocean. Fish. Whales. In fact, I'm pretty sure I pooped in the ocean when I was about three. But "knowing" about ocean poop and "seeing" ocean poop are completely different.

I looked up to see two of my work colleagues gayly splashing in the water, completely unaware of the drifting disorder that was only a couple meters from their mouths. I looked down again and waited for it to float by. I then looked around to try to find more sewage. It was like a Where's Waldo game for a second. Is that dooky? No. That? Nope...floating stick. So, satisfied with my now-dooky-free environs, I went for a swim. It lasted about 15 minutes, at which time I noticed I was in some sort of chunky cloud of floating specks that could easily be flushed poop. That's when I got out.

With that thought, I'll leave you blokes with a picture of a cow tied to a pole. Georgians own lots of cows, apparently, and use them for milk, meat, fertilizer, and perhaps companionship on cold nights in the mountains. They literally littered the roads sometimes. They crossed highways, stood in the road so the breeze could alleviate the bugs, and apparently slept on the warm asphalt on chilly nights. They're everywhere.....like poop in the Black Sea or the mafia in Romania. Or illegal movies on my computer.

Now back to movie night. Happy Fourth, y'all.