On Deck

It's the weekend. What am I going to do? The weather today was uncharacteristically beautiful, even by normal Minnesotan standards. When you consider that I'm in England, the warmth and cloudless sky was unheard of. I got up, hit up Starbucks with Emily and wandered around the city for awhile. Later on, I took the tram out to the suburbs and checked out a wildlife park by a lake. In reality, it was a waterfowl park. I maybe saw a rabbit, otherwise it was exclusively populated by ducks and geese. So, that was fun. Tonight, I went and saw the Moscow State Symphony at the Royal Centre downtown. They were very good. The program was Glazunov Concert Waltz No. 1, Prokofiev Piano Concerto No. 3, Sibelius Finalandia, and Mussorgsky Pictures at an Exhibition. Good stuff, a lot of brass (Great Gate of Kiev, anyone?). But, it was incredibly programmed towards a dumbed down audience, I feel. Way too flashy. Additionally, they did like 3 encores. Isn't that sort of tacky for an orchestra? I thought so.

Anyways, tomorrow features baseball practice at 2, and that's about it. I don't know what else I'll do. I need to get cracking on my Paideia final paper that's due on Friday, I might get on that. Sunday, I'm checking out another evangelical church for said paper, this time an African one. Listening to some jazz at a pub afterwards.

Of course, back in the good ol' USA, this Sunday is a special one, being SUPER BOWL SUNDAY. Our small little expatriate island fretted for a long while about how we would be able to partcipate in this annual cultural pilgrammage, lacking the necessary cable. A search of the NFL UK site yielded little results, except from learning that more toilets are flushed during the Super Bowl halftime than any other time during the year. Thankfully, a glance in today's local paper proved to offer us saving grace. Yes, we will be attending a true SUPER BOWL PARTY this Sunday night, at none other than the bastion of wholesome Americana known as HOOTERS. 6 hour time difference be damned, we'll join our distant countrymen and raise our Budweiser and chicken wings high. I think it's going to be really fun, people in the flat are psyched. Although I have pretty much renounced professional football, you have to watch the Super Bowl. As idiotic as I think the NFL is, the Super Bowl is a definite cultural experience. Add in ignorant Brits, busty women, a blatant American restaurant, and ridiculous British football commentators, and you can't go wrong.