The Dark Knight

My freshman year RA had a roommate who watched the movie "Seven" for seven days straight leaving only to use the bathroom and eat a morsel or two. He was eventually asked to leave. I think the same thing is happening to me with "The Dark Knight". I am obsessed with Heath Ledger's character, the Joker. Somehow he personifies freedom. My nature is to view things in their most favorable light. The concept of freedom is no exception. I think of freedom as an eagle and an American flag and NASCAR, all positive and heartwarming. But, freedom has its dark side. The Joker is completely detached from the outcome. He does things for the experience, not for the end result. Death and failure are of no concern to him. That is the ultimate freedom.

Doppelganger Watch: Sheppard Smith and Troy Aikman

Heisman

I touched the Heisman, the original Heisman trophy. I fainted when my skin met its glory. The power of Tim Tebow, Barry Sanders, Andre Ware, and Charlie Ward coursed through my veins and I fainted. It has been said that you die as soon as you touch the Heisman trophy but I am proof that you become immortal. I'm pretty sure that I will live until a Heisman trophy winner takes my head in a sword fight.

Dutch Food

Jami and I met a couple of her friends for drinks last night. On the way I noticed a restaurant that served Dutch food. A Dutch restaurant! Sure enough, they served frites and croquettes and other nasty dutchiness. The world has officially gone crazy.

Brooklyn, what

Hasidic Jews do not shake hands with the opposite sex. When we arrived at the apartment building in Brooklyn to look at a place for Jami and Nicole, the broker apologized and said that they did not shake hands in his religion. It drove me crazy. I wanted to ask him a thousand questions.

Does this become a problem in business? Do you ever offend people? What the hell?

After he rushed us through three apartments I asked him about the handshake. That's when he told me that Hasidic Jews do not shake hands with the opposite sex but he would shake my hand. Dude would have been strange in anywhere else but he fit in just fine at this building. I loved the building, Jami hated it. It looked like a scene from "Factory Girl", the movie about Andy Warhol's muse, Edie Sedgwick. The doors were steel and each apartment had its own character due to the previous tenant's choice of wall location. There was one elevator that seemed perpetually full of extras from a David Lynch film. One guy was telling a story about bouncing somebody from a bar who was "obviously" on PCP. Not sure what people behave like when they are on PCP but apparently the symptoms are obvious.

Everyone was dressed all hip, not like members of the Strokes, more like each in their own individual hipness, as if they were the coolest human in Brooklyn which put them high in the running for coolest worldwide.

As I mentioned, Jami had strong feelings against the building but she is starting to fall for Brooklyn. If I end up in New York, I want to live in Brooklyn. It balances chic with edgy. The streets are lined with cafes, bars, record stores, and consignment shops, each with its own charm and all just minutes away from Manhattan.

FireJoeMorgan.com

As I grow older, certain assertions that I once accepted as absolute truth are exposed as either debatable or just wrong. One of those assertions is that Joe Morgan is the greatest announcer in the history of professional sports. I accepted everything out of Joe Morgan's mouth as a kid. He is a Hall of Famer, one of the greatest second basemen to ever play the game, his word must be gospel. Only in the last few years have I looked at him critically and been severely disappointed. He is arrogant and uninformed. There is no correlation between athletic ability and the ability to speak with class and intelligence about athletics.

It is with great pleasure that I introduce my newest discovery, a place where fans once gathered to lobby for an end to bad color and play-by-play commentary, firejoemorgan.com. Unfortunately, I learned of this site postmortem; its operators decided to focus on things like family and careers. But, they were gracious enough to leave the old posts up for our enjoyment. I am considering ripping off their idea and starting, firericksutcliffe.com. Who's with me?

Julia Smiles

I went to one of my obligatory holiday romantic comedies last night. Jami and I saw Four Christmases with Vince Vaughn and Reese Witherspoon. It was pretty Dutch (medium) with a few laughs delivered by Jon Favreau as Vince Vaughn's mixed martial arts obsessed brother and, of course, Vaughn himself turning mediocre lines into comedic gold.

Jami and I were crossing the street on our way home from the theater when a young woman walked up next to us. I'm not real good with the celebrity spotting. When you go to an airport with John Roberts, he will recognize at least four celebrities. Michael Jordan will walk by and I'll just think, man that guy is tall. Yesterday was an exception. Julia Stiles made eye contact with each of us and then smiled at Jami. I immediately recognized her. She's smaller than I would expect (aren't all celebrities?) and stunning. I love New York.

Amsterdam to New Amsterdam

The reverse culture shock is pretty much over. I am still slightly jet lagged but jet lag is a lot easier to deal with when you have gained six hours than when you have lost six hours. I am full of energy in the mornings but tire as the day progresses. Other than that and resisting the urge to say, dank u well, everything has returned to normal.

Jami is looking for a new place to live because one of her roommates decided to move home on the eve of lease resigning day. Since Jami and her other roommate have jobs, I am in charge of screening apartments. You get two types of brokers when apartment hunting in Gotham: rental agencies and private owners. Private owners are usually reasonable people who own a building and want to rent it to you. New York apartment rental agencies were apparently schooled in Obamanomics and will go out of their way to make things as difficult as possible. First they take a DNA sample and biometric photo of you at the rental office. Then you sign away your soul in blood and only after all of this has been processed will they show you an apartment. It's ridiculous. At one place I tried explaining that the apartment was for my girlfriend so all this paperwork was meaningless. She insisted that she was not allowed to leave the building with me unless I agreed to give her my first born son, and a kidney, for testing purposes. Another place refused to even talk with me and only reluctantly agreed to allow a maintenance man to let me in for a look around the apartment. Despite these annoyances, it has been a good experience. I'm learning a little about the city, getting a chance to explore, and getting a little exercise.

Freedom!

I'm home, cheesburgers, steak, and freedom of expression abound. Did you know it is illegal to give a Nazi salute in Holland? I have never and likely will never execute such a gesture but should be able to if I so desire. In New York I have the right to give a Nazi salute and then get my ass handed to me by the two hundred people who saw it. It is good to be home.

I noticed the difference immediately. At JFK International Airport I saw black people, Spanish people, fat people wearing dirty sweatpants, and Mexicans. It was amazing. At least five languages were heard within the first ten minutes, none of them Dutch. What I underestimated was the reverse culture shock. New York is, well, New York. It's the Big Apple, the streets are slammed at 2:30 in the afternoon, tourists and locals vying for position and relevance in the flow of traffic. I didn't notice it coming from Jacksonville to New York but Gotham is a dimension away from The Hague. The contrast is instructive. It highlights the "good" and the "bad", for lack of better words. I will miss bike travel, the people I met, the bar culture, and the pace of life. I will not miss the food, the Dutch, or the weather.

This is where I should probably talk about how much fun I had and what an incredible experience it was, etc. But, I think that is universally understood. You've read the blog. You know how much fun I had in Holland and throughout Europe. No, this is not some kind of farewell post. I am going to continue the blog if only for my own therapy and vanity. Thank you all for reading. Your comments helped me combat homesickness and keep my focus on the big picture.

Cheers.