ANSWER: The mos coveted prize in the Tour de France is the Mallot Jaune, a jersey of this color.
-Day Five-
I woke up at seven and I feel like my sleeping schedule is back in order. After an hour of just sitting around, I take a bath and prepare for the day. It was a big day, if just because we are going to be heading out to Brighton. I have no idea what there is to do there, but after quick research, I discovered that the film the Damned United was filmed out there and Fatboy Slim gained prominence there. Too bad I have no idea what either of them are like. I am aware of their existence, but not enough to say "Brighton sounds great now!"
But according to Alex, it is a very artsy town and we can do a lot of fun stuff down there. After breakfast and preparation, we headed out to the train station. Since we caught Viv on the way to work, she covered the expense and all we had to do now was wait. Alex decided to play tourist again and immediately began snapping pictures. We hopped on the train for what he assured me was an hour long ride to Brighton.
Besides his decision to listen to One Direction a few times (he claims that he is getting harmonies down for a cover), we just began chatting about life. He wanted to know what my career trajectory was, and he explained how he overcomplicated (as per usual) the launch of his Interwebzicast stuff. It also featured quite a bit of talk about family and just to let everyone know, Alex knows what you're up to. You better behave now. We have a sacred bond and no amount of compensation will convince him that what I told him isn't the truth.
I must admit that the odd things about taking the train was being able to see the vast architecture of the country. Alex talked about wanting to live on a farm, and I was worried that a horse had been murdered. Turns out he only had a sheet over him to keep warm. I also saw a few foxes, which probably remains one of the higher points on that journey. Yes, I live in an area where we can hear coyotes now and again, but foxes have this scrappy adorable stuff going on that I enjoy seeing them, even if I worry that it would bite me.
We saw the ocean and I will admit that as novelty as seeing the Atlantic is for me, it still was enjoyable. I feel like it was a good view, but in the end, water often looks like water. However, the cities had this beautiful layout where house after house stacked on a hill seemed to be organized like an OCD man's record collection. You had a few sore thumbs, but there was a flow to it that I felt was like dominoes. I could only imagine that in a disaster, they would just fall over. Not fall apart, just tip over and everyone would be fine in their domino-solid fortress.
When we finally got to Brighton, it was the end of the line and we pretty much exited into the public. Upon first glance, I felt like I was in New York. Then I remembered, I never have been to New York. How would I know what New York looks like from the ground view? Okay, that isn't totally abstract, but still, a photo-to-photo comparison would quickly debunk my rumour.
However, the odd thing is that I almost immediately wanted to stop somewhere. I don't know that I could stand walking long, pointless distances. I felt like we were tourists and therefore needed to take it in. Eventually, we stopped in at a shop that sold models and I began putting on my tourist hat. They had a whole section on the Falkland Islands, and I find that adorable. Okay, I am not a history buff, but I know what it is and I just find it peculiar. Okay, I mostly was familiar with it from the Iron Lady, with the cringe-worthy, award (I'm not making this up) winning performance that gave us the dumb line "The Falkland Islands have been invaded, and I want them back."
How did Meryl Streep win that Oscar? As much as I didn't like it, that actress from the Help was robbed. Okay, now I am bleeding into the next paragraph. Where was I? Okay, I am just easily amused by the portrayal of culture via consumerism like dolls. After the green beret trailer the night before, I am just impressed that there is a set of Falkland Island dolls. I know this country has pride and all, but I guess I underestimated the Falkland Islands.
We then went to the Lego Store. Now, I haven't been into one in seven plus years. I haven't even been to Legoland, which possibly a place I have outgrown by the time it existed. Still, with Threesome having a subplot about a character's obsession with Legos, I felt like it was a nice reminder of my childhood. Also, it would give me and Alex a chance to bond without talking to each other. That should only be taken as the power of Legos.
The selection was piss poor, and I was sad that I didn't invest in a box, but we did find a table where you could construct things from random bricks. Alex and I each have some OCDs in our system that caused symmetry to overpower design. I went in improvising and I consistently had to go back and structure the base. The amount of censored cursing that I did, the panic and even my intimate conversation with the hole full of Legos was probably as refreshing as the day got for me. I wanted to make things perfect, and I was sad to leave. You'll see what I made eventually.
We then decided to get some lunch from the foot court's McDonalds. Nothing new to say except for one factor that I still don't understand how it happened. Between generic pop music, there was this squeal and guitar line that I recognized. First off, the guitar sounded out of place after a synth-heavy pop song. It was Jack White's "I'm Shakin," which surprised me for numerous reasons. For starters, it was in between generic pop music. I really dig that record and felt it was more blues than commercial. And finally, at least in America, it was never close to being the lead single off of the album. I'm listening to that solo and kind of smiling inside, but also not entirely sure if I was actually alive any more. I felt like immediately telling the world that I heard Jack White at a McDonalds, but my phone doesn't have the wi-fi roaming capacity. Mind you, with exception to a very brief exposure to the internet in the morning, I was absent yesterday. Also, I plan to upload the photos soon. Yesterday was just a weird day, so the pictures never came around.
After that weird experience, we continued our journey down to the beach, which itself was a culture shock. I am used to beaches, but the first big surprise was that everything was made out of rocks. Alex seemed overly defensive that not all beaches had sand, but it just weirded me out. I always felt like beaches was where sand met dirt. Alex got the reference as being Bill Hicks, and we moved on down the pier. Also, the sound of the water going out over the rocks still sounds bizarre to me.
But the place reminded me rather much of Coney Island. Of course, the question then is why I would even know what Coney Island felt like. The closest that I got to Coney Island was in the last episode of Girls (okay, now technically season one finale). In fact, it reminded me of a quote from Girls first episode in which Alex Karpovsky praised McDonalds as being a great place, if just because you can order a burger anywhere and it tastes like home. The chicken nuggets are a little dry, but yes, I actually felt like he was right.
But anyways, he showed me these arcade rooms on the pier and they were rather loud and vibrant. He showed me the penny pusher games, which were like the coin games where you aim and shoot a coin and try to get the highest number of tickets. I got to try it out, but like all games like this, they don't like me and I lost. There was even Guitar Hero games set up along with my ultimate "How is this still around?" winner with the original The Fast and the Furious racing game (and yet the Simpsons one got wiped off the planet. Life is unfair).
Unfortunately, all of the rides were shut down and we ended up having to watch people repair stuff the entire time. Alex kind of apologized, but that is what weirds me out about this trip. Everyone is being modest for things not being up to high standards in January. Nowhere is up to snuff in January. It is just a common known fact. However, I do admire the lengths they go to to make me aware that they wanted better for me.
We then began wandering around until we got to the Pavilion, which has some long history and basically, all I can think of was Marie Antoinette if she was fat, male and built stuff. We stopped in at an art museum and we started at the gift shop. They had a whole section on Banksy, including coffee mugs and magnets. I wanted to get them. However, the further I looked at them, the more I felt like I was now becoming THAT tourist who buys souvenirs of home to compensate. I ended up going against it, but it did start something.
For most of the rest of the time in Brighton, I felt overwhelmed. I felt existential. I wondered what I was doing. Was I wasting my time by worrying? There is a deep, layered, pattern of paranoia that I went through and none of it really resulted in fear, but just me wondering what I was doing looking at Banksy stuff that I could buy in the states. Then I had fear that I would never get my mom a good mug and that suddenly I was doomed to be the tourist on this trip. It was so confusing and I just told Alex that I was either confused or homesick. I don't know where the answer is, but it feels like it is somewhere towards the middle.
I shouldn't feel this bad because, how often am I in Brighton? However, my lack of planning should result in me indulging in the culture without the concerns of if I am doing it right. As it stands, Alex kept pressuring me to suggest things. I wish I was a more confident decider, but I really just wanted to walk around and look at stuff. The museum was nice in retrospect, but at the time, I think I was too wrapped up in my head and trying to find ideas to appease Alex that I ended up disliking myself.
On a side note, we did check out some British art that easily qualifies as surreal. Even more surreal than David Lynch, even. It felt like it was Monty Python shoved through dementia and slap a few downers into the mix. I try to appreciate art, but I have never quite respected outsider art. I felt like art needs to serve a purpose, and random images just do not make me feel like the artist put effort into it. I like Lynch because he is unorthodox and weird, but there actually feels like a craft in there (and he did a great stint on Louie). What I saw was definitely weird, but essentially it felt like an embrace of noise and nonsense, though I assume it was supposed to be political.
We even got a shot on the way out of Mr. Willett's pottery sign, which amused me. I do regret going out without showing any real interest in any of it. In a better mindset (and probably with glasses), I would be reading it all. However, I do admire anywhere that features a small reference to James Whale's the Invisible Man. That is a masterpiece of early horror. Also, I am impressed that I feel like I have seen a reference to that movie every day since I arrived, whether it is in a shop window or a shout out to Claude Raines (I may be wrong, but isn't he the lead?).
We finished off our visit by walking up and down the laines. Alex wanted to show me something cool. However, he couldn't find it, so we ended up going up and down the same laine for most of our stay. He also showed me a great wall of graffiti, which I am proud to say is more in line with the artistic side that I admire than the gang signs that plague Los Angeles. I even swear that I saw a Banksy slot on our walk, but I could be wrong.
In an odd turn of events, we went into a thrift shop and it wasn't too world changing. However, the one thing that blew my mind was that they had a book for £8.99 on Takashi Miike. I only noticed it because a scene from Audition (the only film of his that I saw) was on the cover. I found it odd notably because I didn't think he was prominent enough. However, it made me feel good to know England was aware of world cinema (dumb to say, but in America, I guess England's filmography is the second most accessible form of cinema). However, upon browsing the book, I realize that this guy has been around forever. I didn't buy it, but I did buy two old school glasses featuring the Simpsons, including my new tea mug. Washing that up and will be walking around showing it off. Side note, I still have no idea what the money accounts to outside of the obvious "This is £20" symbolism. Also, Alex really wants a typewriter. To all you Brits, get him one from this thrift shop. It is only £50.
We caught the train to Eastbourne and met up with his father and girlfriend. This is the famous burger that Alex called so bad it's brilliant. I wish that I could remember the name. Sadly, I can only think of Westboro, but that is not even close. However, I must agree with Viv's choice to call it bad. As a burger enthusiast, I have learned that attaching gourmet in front of burger is like saying "it's not that great, but hey, we sell burgers that you'd otherwise ignore if the word gourmet was not in front of it." It is tragic when the familiar Big Mac left a better impression on me.
However, the conversation with his father was a little odd. I let Alex handle the grunt work, but I also tried to be just as jokey and informative. They were going bluer than I cared for. However, the part that surprised me was how my somewhat modest attempt to be entertaining failed to really feel like it left an impression. I am sure he enjoyed talking to me, and I cannot argue really about sensing any hostility, but I do feel like I was perceived as Alex's friend. Mind you, I also don't know English customs enough and I ended up shaking his hand six times before he waved us goodbye.
The one odd thing and I am not proud that I do it, but I have an awkward line I specifically use to avoid conversation about sports. His dad asked me which team would watch the Super Bowl. I use this line in hopes of saying "I don't care about sports." I basically say "whatever team has the most blacks." That practically killed the conversation with me, but Alex kept going. It isn't even a cultural thing. I just don't like sports. We also talked about the Hobbit, but what I admired most was this is the first time that I ever heard someone say that the lead was Tim from the Office. I found that charming and more interesting than hearing people say Martin Freeman, if just because I love Morgan Freeman too much and always imagine Morgan when Martin is referenced. The Hobbit would have been more interesting with Morgan, but that's besides the point.
It was great seeing them and I feel like I wasn't the strongest impression, but solid enough to not make him brush me off. After a ride home on the train that resulted in me almost falling asleep, we actually got home and it wasn't long until I fell asleep. However, as I said, we had a guest, so I ended up sleeping in Alex's room. It took some effort to get me up those steps, but we finally were home and I passed out at eight.
To let everyone know, I have no idea what happened, but Brighton wiped me out. Maybe it was the walking, which really didn't affect me physically, but I sure was tired. Hours of walking weren't felt until I had to stop and ride a train. I think that this is really was the reason that I felt overwhelmed and essentially told Alex that I may be homesick. Maybe it was the pressure to do a lot of things and Alex keep hounding me for "what do you want to do?" I am easily amused and Alex can find the quickest way to make me laugh. It isn't looking at buildings, which I actually did enjoy, but just experiencing modern England culture. I find the small differences more fascinating than the sights, though with Alex, I rarely have a dull time.
It is finally snowing here, so maybe a few pictures of that will arise. However, I am hoping to take it easy today and get everything up to date. As it stands, I just remembered that I have a CinemaBeach review to get submitted. Also, hopefully with the down time, I will get the pictures also uploaded, so keep an eye out for those.
Anyways, got a day ahead of me, so that's it for now.
QUESTION: What is yellow?
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