tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34383622011-04-21T20:18:45.705-07:00Travelling Shoes (The Zine)An Eccentric Journal of Travel and EntertainmentH.D. Millernoreply@blogger.comBlogger71100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3438362.post-756263452002-04-20T12:14:00.000-07:002002-04-20T12:21:50.000-07:00Mother of Us All
In a play on her given name she's been called "The Mother of Us All," and now more than 20 years after her death she's still universally revered in the Arab world as the greatest singer of all time. Her songs, some nearly three hours long, are still played daily on radio stations throughout the Middle East and North Africa, and her records are still on the best-sellers lists. H.D. Millernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3438362.post-754539992002-04-15T22:46:00.000-07:002005-03-15T19:52:46.900-08:00Carnival of FoolsLike most other red-blooded, American males, I was raised to have a keen appreciation for that sinfully cool American icon, Las Vegas. There's something about the city, with its promise of neon-lit, high-rolling, fast-living that appeals to my essential and American anti-intellectualism. You really don't have to think in Vegas. In fact, the chamber of commerce prefers it if you H.D. Millernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3438362.post-754058932002-04-14T18:29:00.000-07:002002-04-14T23:29:52.000-07:00Trouble in Tangier
Tangier is an orphan city, abandoned by the thousands of European and American expatriates who once flocked to the city for its air of economic and moral license, ignored by the Moroccan government for its past association with those same wayward Westerners. Its population has fallen, its landmarks are decaying, and its very streets seem to be in danger of tumbling down its H.D. Millernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3438362.post-752963602002-04-11T13:08:00.000-07:002002-04-13T22:53:18.000-07:00Hay Caracoles!
I had to look the word up. It means snails, as in "We've got snails!" which is what the signs in tapas bar windows all over Seville were advertising in late August. It was the snail season, and the Sevillanos love eating snails, and reserve their custom for those establishments which specialize in the garden delights.
In the mornings, at the farmers market around the corner from H.D. Millernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3438362.post-752550072002-04-10T12:03:00.000-07:002002-04-13T22:54:14.000-07:00Una Hamburguesa Americana
There's a joke in Whit Stillman's very amusing film Barcelona about the awfulness of what passes for American-style hamburgers in Spain, and how because of this awfulness Spaniards all believe that Americans are stupid and grotesque, or at least possessed of degenerate tastebuds. Of course, the punchline in Barcelona is that the Spanish don't know how to make hamburgersH.D. Millernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3438362.post-752119622002-04-09T11:04:00.000-07:002002-04-13T22:55:07.000-07:00A Note on Moroccan Plumbing
I sing the praises of the Moroccan squat toilet; that Middle Eastern plumbing fixture usually misidentified as a simple hole in the ground with a pair of slightly-elevated foot-rests for leverage. As one who as suffered through the misery of acute intestinal distress (hows that for a nice circumlocution?), I can attest there is probably no type of toilet more H.D. Millernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3438362.post-751809542002-04-08T16:01:00.000-07:002002-04-13T22:55:36.000-07:00The Cult of Prime Rib
Signs advertising inexpensive prime rib are everywhere in Las Vegas. They're more ubiquitious than advertisements for Siegfried and Roy, more common than pictures of Wayne Newton. The marquee of every hotel, every casino, and every two-bit juke joint in town touts a low-cost prime rib meal. And, if we can believe those marquees, prime rib isn't just for dinner any more. H.D. Millernoreply@blogger.com