Off the Grid
Part of Lonnie Martin’s ongoing blog — Stranger in a Strange Land — where he tells us all about moving to Prague to drink beer and make arthouse movies for a living. His wife is also blogging about the experience.
Part of Lonnie Martin’s ongoing blog — Stranger in a Strange Land — where he tells us all about moving to Prague to drink beer and make arthouse movies for a living. His wife is also blogging about the experience.
Part of Lonnie Martin’s ongoing MFA blog — Stranger in a Strange Land — where he tells us wage slaves all about what it’s like to move to Prague to drink beer and make arthouse movies for a living. Updated weekly.
“So,” a friend says to me the other day, “Since you’re going to Europe for four months, you’re shaving off your jihadist beard, right?” “Why?” I asked. “Well, you don’t want people to think you’re a terrorist… or worse, a hipster.” “That’s pretty offensive,” I said. “Even terrorists don’t want to be called hipsters.”
For the last four years, I’ve kind of been stuck in place, emotionally and physically. Years spent tackling the long, arduous process of healing – from chronic pain, to brain surgery, to the newly unclouded realization that life really is a sad, often tedious joke.
Just about all of my friends who have travelled extensively by rail in the UK have found themselves, at one time or another, stuck at the Castle Cary station in Somerset waiting for a transfer. Castle Cary almost always creeps into the conversation when exchanging vacation stories.
I’ve long harbored a secret love for the British canals. My friend’s parents introduced me to the canals many years ago and, slowly, my (semi-)annual visits to the UK have become dominated by cruises with them. So there I was, early 30’s, with a couple of retired folks, moving through cities and countryside at four […]
On the road again. The interstate screaming beneath my tires, the mountains on the horizon. West into the setting sun, truckers roaring past as I hug the granny lane, cruise control to five miles over the speed limit, a steady, relaxing cruise control. The plugs of traffic, traveling like miniature herds of harried animals, rise […]
As you read this, my plane will be bumping from BWI to New Orleans, a town I’ve tried to visit at least once a year since 2001.
June in DC! When the lovely spring weather slowly slides into swampland horror. The sun glares down and it’s a humid mid-80’s before 8am. I try to walk 10 miles a day, despite my soul-murdering sedentary day job, so I push on through Code Orange mornings, breathing in toxic fumes and insuring that I’ll die, […]
Every time I head out to see my friends in New Orleans, I feel compelled to put up a note on the front page so the one or two people who read GS know absolutely every aspect of my life. Right now, for instance, there’s a 12 year old kid outside screaming “I’m going to […]