Saturday, June 25, 2011
20 years ago today – Day 114
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Tuesday, June 25th – a second day in Brussels
We are up late this morning, partially because we are tired from our late night antics and in part because Joe has asked us to lay low until Nimi clears out. Once she's off to work, Joe makes us a generous breakfast of an egg and processed cheese on a bun, bread, butter, jam, a slice of meat and loads of coffee.
While I eat with Francis and Hans, my roommates, Joe tells us stories from his interesting past. He was an excellent swimmer and all-round athlete in his heyday. His present physique probably bears no resemblance to his earlier self, but he still cocky, confident air of a man used to winning. He reminds me of team captains who have motivating and confidence-building skills. He once swam the English Channel to support a friend who wanted to do it but lacked confidence. He says he would never do it again if he could, because of all the misery the currents and cramps caused him. He swam in the nude to avoid the serious chaffing wool trunks gave swimmers in those days. A reporter caught a glimpse of him as he finished and caused a bit of a scandal when he wrote an article questioning Joe's motives for doing so. Joe was in the army at the time and his captain tried to cause trouble for him because the Roman Catholic Church at the time strongly objected to nudity for any reason.
Another story he tells is about a circus performer who was part of a family circus act who had to enlist to do his required service in the army. His family had he be allowed to keep his skills honed and the army agreed. Joe was assigned to find a rehearsal space and his family offered to give a performance for his army regiment. Unbeknownst to the others in his regiment, Joe began to practice with them and became part of the act. When he appeared in a trapeze outfit at the show, his colleagues thought it was a joke and laughed. But when he climbed the tower and began to perform from a circling 'airplane' several people almost panicked, thinking he had lost his mind and was bound to fall. Joe spent several minutes looking for those pictures.
A third story he tells us is about his days as a competitive swimmer, when his coach gave his team an energy concoction that gave the guys erections most of the time. It is like some gay fantasy but it became a standard joke on the team. I imagine they had lots of fans watching them train. They trained in a shallow river, which during the dry season was so shallow that he often scraped his knees on the rocks. When he complained about this, his coach asked why he didn't practice his backstroke at the shallowest points. He joked that he was afraid that with his erection he might not make it under the bridges.
We all enjoy his stories but they make our start on the day quite late. Francis, the lanky French Canadian who was whacking off with me last night, wants to join me for a movie at the world's largest I-Max cinema. I want to tour downtown again first. Joe gives us extremely detailed instructions for both the tour and the directions to the I-Max. Frances and I set out in separate directions.
While photographing the Grand Square, I run into two sweet young blond boys, Tom and Ashley, second year college students from Kansas City. They are reading a "Let's Go Guide" and wondering how to kill their last two hours before catching a train to Ghent. I approach them and engage them in conversation. I take them to the Mannequin Pis and the Pissing Girl statuettes, and then we go to a sidewalk pub to share beers. They seem quite informed for Americans. They know Brussels is expanding as the capital for the new EU but they want to know if Belgium is democratic or "socialist", which they define as having to give 50% or more of one's earnings in taxes, without any consideration for how the taxes are spent. They say that bureaucracy itself confounds democracy. I tell them most democratic
countries in the developed world require 50% of people's earnings to maintain a safe and supportive society. I can cycle from city to city throughout Europe with my only concern being the amount of traffic on the routes I choose, but I could not do the same trip in the US because certain areas of the cities, abandoned to disrepair, are too dangerous to enter. I explain that this form of economic apartheid is also a major barrier to democracy. They soak in my insights with deep seriousness, nodding at each point I make. They are so cute that I want to keep them at pets.
I ask how they like Belgian beer but to my astonishment they have no idea that Belgium makes beer. They have been drinking American Budweiser since they arrived. I order a blond Chimay, an amber Duffel and a dark Rochefort for them to taste, and they really enjoy the tasting exercise. I suddenly realize I must hurry to catch Francis at the I-Max. The bus Joe directed me to takes longer than I expected and after waiting an hour and
after asking around, I find than in his efforts to provide itineraries for all six guests, Joe gave me the wrong instructions. I am late by 10 minutes when I finally reach the I-Max and everyone has gone in.
I am profoundly disappointed as I really want to hang out with Francis, now that there is a sexual connection between us. He is quite handsome too, but his willingness is the big turn on. I imagined us pressing our knees together in the I-Max as we sit side-by-side. When I return to Joe's home, he tells me that Francis had not called.
I go to the sports centre cafeteria to have another cheap spaghetti dinner. Francis returns to Joe's shortly after I get back from dinner. He startles me by tapping on the bedroom window and I let him in through the garage. We commiserate about missing each other and hang out together the rest of the evening, too shy to let on that there is anything between us other than normal platonic friendship. Hans has left and that night we are the only two in the room. Perfect I think, but I decide to wait a few minutes before trying to start something. But as I am feeling brave enough to suggest fooling around, footsteps come down the stairs and Joe ushers in an American man he has scraped off the streets at midnight. I am thoroughly missed off with Joe over how the day has turned out.
PHOTO 1: St Michael's Cathedral
PHOTO 2: Grand Square at the centre of Brussels
PHOTO 3: a pissoir in Brussels
PHOTO 4: La Bourse
PHOTO 5: another fun statue here
PHOTO 6: Le Cinquantaire, Jubelparc
PHOTO 7: yet another crazy statue
PHOTO 8: not a cruisy washroom
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