Author Archives: Dennis

Queen’s Day was crazy as always. The evening previous to Queen’s Day is traditionally called Queen’s Night, and sees less tourists (and by tourists I mean provincial people) in Amsterdam, and is therefore often really “gezellig.” Moulsari, my brother and I went out around midnight or so and walked around. Sadly we didn’t find any good spots with good music. I was kind of hoping for something akin to Gay Pride 2006, where Sam and I stumbled on an open air party at the Westermarkt, which was…just…so…awesome. Nothing like that, but we did get to watch people, drink some vodka-chocomel and enjoy the great weather.

Queen’s Day itself started out with a really relaxed morning and early afternoon as we got up, had some breakfast, and waited for Moulsari to get ready while my brother and I were playing Lord of the Rings Online (which I’m not sure I like.) Dennis managed to join us around 14:30 or so, and we decided to head out. We walked for about 5 hours, and here are some highlights (and lowlights):

The “Buy Your Own Applause” booth was fantastic. At first I didn’t know what was going on, but as Moulsari was checking out some cheap jewelry, Dennis, Robin and I snuck towards the booth only to be roped in as one of the “audience members.” We were put on chairs while we eagerly awaited the person who had bought the applause for the measily sum of 1 euro. She was introduced by the booth-keepers and stepped forward, at which time the 12 strong audience started applauding, cheering and wolf-whistling. What a great idea. Getting people to applaud for you if you need a little mental pick-me-up. Great. :)

We headed over to the Wolvenstraat and had some prosecco at Wolvenstraat 23, which is a little lounge/restaurant that I’ve grown very fond of over the last six months or so.

We headed over to the Spui and then onward to the dam, in search for an ATM for Dennis. Spui and Nieuwezijdse Voorburgwal suck, because it’s the throughfare for people coming from central station who are on their way to the Leidseplein, it’s just crazy how many people asked us directions during the day. Dennis remarked that (almost) everyone who did was always just looking for one of the big squares, which are all filled with people, and are so busy and filthy that it’s just no fun being there. I don’t understand people’s attraction to those places during Queen’s Day.

Once Dennis had got some money, we cut through back to the canal and walked down the Herengracht. We made some photos of the Leidsestraat as we passed it. I put Moulsari on my shoulders so she would have a good view. I hope they came out alright. We walked onward to the Nieuwe Spiegelstraat because Dennis wanted to say hello to some people who were working at a place he frequents for lunch a lot. We had some positively fantastic horrible food (yes, you’re reading that right) and watched some of the boats in the canals pile themselves onto one another, for whatever reason boats filled with drunk dancers and massive speaker systems pile themselves onto one another.

Another thought; when you know that Amsterdam is hard to navigate by car on an average saturday afternoon, why the hell would you try to drive through the Amsterdam centre when there’s five million extra people out in the streets?

I decided that to complete the Queen’s Day experience, we should go to one of the large squares to show Moulsari the collected bio-mass that was rubbing up against one another. We decided that we were close enough to the Museumplein, and we walked over. The square, which is is very large and grass-covered, was filled to the brim with people, all staring at a large podium set up by one of the largest radio-stations, provided an entertaining free concert. But the filth! Oh my god, how can people sit in the grass, surrounded by their own waste!? Beer-cans, wrappers, food…why would you want to surround yourself with that? It’s like a picknick from hell!

We were relatively close to home, and so we walked on, hoping to catch the tail end of the barbeque that was being organised by the café below our apartment. Sadly, when we got there it was fairly busy, and the food had run out hours before. We ran into our landlords (a couple that own the building we live in and live in the first three floors while we have the top two) and they took us out in their boat. We cruised around the canals and got to witness the crazy parties going on in relative comfort. We avoided most of the really busy parts of the canals, but had a blast watching the carnage of Queen’s Day unfold before us.

When we got back we sat out in front for a little while having a last drink. Robin took the tram, and Dennis hopped on his bike. Moulsari and I went up and listened to the party continuing on outside while we watching a mindless movie that one of my colleagues recommended to me.

A pretty good long weekend all in all.

Yesterday, Moulsari and I went to see a dance performance by the Bill T. Jones Dance Company. Moulsari had worked on their identity design when she was still in New York and managed to snag some complimentary tickets for the two of us.

The performance was a blend of image, poetry, music and a hefty dose of modern dance. It was called Blind Date, and it was commentary and criticism on the war in Iraq, patriotism and identity. For long afterwards, Moulsari and I were discussing the medium of dance as a way to convey a message, and stimulate thought on the subject of, and relationship relationship between, patriotism and identity.

My big gripe is that I think dance is a really shitty medium to convey a message in. If you have a message, than choosing dance to convey it is a deliberate obfuscation, or rather, adding unnecessary noise on the line. So, while I sat there trying to figure out what was going on, I kind of felt a little inadequate, since I simply didn’t get it all. My mind was racing in a million different directions, and with the context being as limited as it was, I came to a million different conclusions, and none of them seemed right (or wrong.) Moulsari assured me that there were no right answers or interpretations, and that just doesn’t go down well with me.

In the end, I enjoyed the grace, control and physical acts of the dancers termendously. I also liked some of the poetry and song. The music was pretty good at times. All in all I liked it.

My father just got the results from the biopsy. It’s malignent. It’s untreatable. He’s going to be discharged from the hospital on friday, at which time he’s going to be sent on his way with morphine pills and slow-release patches, since he’s in a lot of pain. It won’t be long.