Are You An International Traveler?

I got my first US passport in February 2000.

I’d previously visited Mexican border towns and a few cities in Eastern Canada, but back then you just needed a drivers license to go to our southern and northern neighbors.

This Monday, I went to Port Moresby’s US Embassy to get more pages for my passport - it was almost full.

I don’t pretend to be some cooler-than-thou, “I’m a citizen of the world” asshole, but, I did need extra pages for my passport.

Over the past eight years, I’ve been to 17 – plus countries, living in three (counting my American homeland).

As many of you know, I grew up in the rural South and Midwest. When I was young, I didn’t know how far away I wanted to go – just that I wanted to live somewhere else.

Following college, I lived in Washington, DC (which was very exotic for a boy from Little Rock), Chicago (Yankees!), Dallas, and Austin.

While living in these cities, I visited all over Canada, and parts of Mexico, many of our Caribbean neighbors, Germany, the UK, and France. When I moved to Australia, I went to New Zealand (Australia’s Canada), Fiji, and now I’m living in Papua New Guinea, a place I didn’t even know existed a few years ago.

All this to say, I love travel and living overseas. I’m still an American. It’s home. I love our politics, warts and all. I love baseball and (American) football. I love barbeque and Mexican food. I love our spirit and our Bill of Rights.

But, I must say that it’s great living overseas. I want to encourage anyone out there, that if you are given (or even better – take) the opportunity to live beyond American shores - do it.

At a minimum, travel overseas. See what other cultures are beyond the local Mexican or Asian restaurant.

Be faced with that eternal question to American expats – did you actual vote for Bush?

Pretend to be Canadian – they’ll be much nicer to you.

Get out there – take an international flight and see the world.

And fill up that passport of yours – and maybe even have to get extra pages.

What the Hell is the AFL Thinking?

I’ll begin this post by saying that I’ve really gotten into Australian Rules Football. I enjoy going to the games, I love the, well, love that Australians, especially Victorians and South Australians have for the game.

I am a member of the Hawthorn Hawks Football Club, as is my son T.

But this is just f’in stupid…

AFL's Celtic key

S

YDNEY Celtic? It just might work.

Saturday’s front-page article in Melbourne newspaper The Age revealed the AFL is considering giving its new franchise in Western Sydney the ‘Celtic’ brand name, ahead of its likely entry into the competition in 2012.

Faced with establishing an entirely new Australian football club in a region dominated by myriad of sporting pursuits, but mainly rival codes rugby union, league and soccer, the AFL needs to recognise the ‘Celtic’ concept is a godsend.

The article goes on to say…

“I’ve lived in Ireland and Glasgow, and I know that by naming your team Celtic you will gain thousands of supporters before they even know what the hell Australian football is.

The Boston Celtics and Glasgow Celtic are two of the most popular sporting franchises in the world. Their marketability is undeniable – certainly slightly better than the West Sydney Westfields – or whatever other instantly identifiable name you would choose to associate with the new club.

Of course there’s the connection to Catholicism and the sectarian-related soccer violence, which exists in Scotland and Ireland, but it’s hardly a problem in Boston, and I think the prospect of trouble on those grounds is equally unlikely outside the new boutique stadium in Rooty Hill.

You’re using the NBA Champion Boston Celtics as a reason to start a Celtic named Australian Rules Football club in Sydney? Are you serious? Why the hell kind of reason is that. The Boston Celtics have absolutely nothing to do with Ireland, other than the hokey leprechaun mascot and the color green.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

For the life of me, I can’t understand why the Australian Football League keeps trying to make itself into an international game. Australia only has 20 million people, is on the other side of the planet of nearly every other English language country, and I think that those places are pretty tapped out on the sporting landscape. There was some other idiot that suggested that the AFL start an Australian Rules team in Los Angeles because Americans had money and would like fast-paced sport. LA can’t even support an American pro football team, much less an Australian one.

Look, Aussie Rules is great, but the league needs to worry about supporting the 14 teams they already have, including several that are perennially in the red, before they start trying such bush league ideas as an all-Irish team in Sydney.

Radio Silence

I’ve been away from the Yard for awhile. I’m not really sure why, other than while I was in the US and Oz I spent most of my online time downloading TV shows and ripping DVDs to watch once I got back to PNG.

Now, I’ve been back in PNG for about 2 ½ weeks. Ugh.

It was good to go to the US – too bad it was Dallas. It was very strange returning to that town after nearly three years. The entire trip was made worthwhile for T to meet his great-grandmother and aunt, and to spend more time with his American grandmother.

I ate like a true American. Tex-Mex (four times), BBQ (twice), many real hamburgers include two trips to Snuffers and two to Jake’s (a real hamburger, not that meatloaf on a bun crap they have in Australia), real hit dogs at a real baseball game (of course the Rangers lost as expected), and more.

I drank nothing but American microbeers, except for a crap stuff in plastic cups at the ballgame, and plenty of Bohemia at Tex-Mex places. I was in beer heaven, esp. on Thursday night at the Valhalla of The Gingerman. Thanks to all that dropped by, and a special cheers to Mowrey who arranged a BS business trip from Atlanta just to be there.

I got to spend time with my now eight year old godsons. Got to watch them play Little League, probably the first Little League game I’ve been to since I played machine pitch. We all went to the Rangers game and they got to meet my son T, which was cool as shit.

After living in Oz for two years plus, I am just amazed at how cheap everything is in America. And efficient. Say what you will about my people, but we do not fuck around.

But, Good Lord is Dallas a wasteland.

I know this isn’t a new revelation for anyone that’s spent time there, but it’s a concrete jungle, the only pastime in that town is to drive on huge highways, and shop. The women are vapid and it’s hot as shit. But, there’s good food, good beer, and some good people once you get past the BS.

More than anything else, I’m glad I don’t live in Dallas anymore. Cumulatively, I lived there about 10 years, and this trip taught me that I have many, many more bad memories about that place than good ones.

What If They Played a Game and Nobody Brought Beer?

I’m currently in Adelaide, South Australia after the big US trip. Sorry for not blogging much while I was there, but I’ll try to catch up over the next few days.

On Saturday night, I went to the Hawthorn Hawks vs. Adelaide Crows Aussie Rules game with my father-in-law.

Now, I’ve been going to sporting events since I was in my mother’s womb (see Arkansas vs. USC 1972), but this was one of the strangest games I’ve ever been to.

For one thing, AAMI Stadium, nee Football Park, is located in the far off Port Adelaide section of the city. And, since Australia doesn’t believe in an interstate highway system, you have to drive on f’in city streets to get there. It took more than an hour and then we had to try to park.

So, you finally get to this place, and it’s right next to a freaking shopping mall…and that’s it. We ended up paying $10 AUD to park by David Jones (mid/high range department store) on a Saturday night. Joy.

We finally get to the stadium, which supposedly holds 51,000, but announced a 44,000 sellout, and we can’t figure out where to go since our tickets don’t say which gate to go in.

This is an hour before the game starts, but the concourses are packed. I figure this is normal, so we each grab a crappy hamburger and an even crappier West End beer. But, it’s a sporting event, and crappy local beers are what it’s all about.

Then, came the shock of my Australian life.

We start walking to the seats. I get poked on my back by a security guard. He tells me, “Have to get the beers out of here.”

“Excuse me? This is a football game”

“No beer in the stands”

I must have had some look on my face like I was told there was no Santa Claus.

I looked around, and sure as shit, no one else had a beer. I’ve only been to one other professional sporting venue that didn’t allow beer – Stamford Bridge in London. But, that’s the policy for all English Premier League games to curtail soccer fan violence. Despite this, you can drink in every corner of the stadium, watch the game on TV while you down your beer, and/or go to numerous neighboring pubs before and after the game.

The nearest place to buy any sort of a drink was a f’in McDonalds.

The game was good and all, and I was completely outnumbered by Crows fans. The Hawks won, so I could enjoy a nice victory in the Hawks amazing season to date.

But, seriously, why the hell can’t you drink beer in your seat? I must say, Aussie Rules is a pretty boring game without a pint of crappy beer in your hand.

10:12 am Pacific Daylight Time

It’s the second Saturday morning I’ve had today – I hadn’t even boarded the Brisbane to LAX flight yet. I’m living in some kind of bizarre time machine – literally, figuratively, and…figuratively.

I’ve been awake since 6 am Saturday Brisbane time, which was 21 hours ago. I can’t sleep on this flight, even though I can’t remember ever being this tired before. T was able to sleep for about 5 or so hours on the 11 hour Trans Pacific flight, but I didn’t get a wink. Anna was up in Business and probably slept like a baby all flight.

So, we’re heading back to Texas. What a weird feeling to go from not only Australia, from where I landed from Dallas 2 ½ years ago, but freakin’ Papua New Guinea. I’m thinking of keeping tally of how many people have even heard of that place while I’m in Dallas.

Jesus I’m tired. I saw myself in the mirror just now – I look like some sort of junkie with two bloodshot eyes and bags shaped like racoons. Hell, I feel like a junkie. Well, without the drugs, the women, and/or the rock n’ roll (although I am listening to Led Zepplin right now.

LAX was the usual completely prison ass rape that it always is, but we were able to get into the Admirals Club/Qantas Club for about 30 minutes before the DFW flight. Anna wanted a Coke (or a “soda” in her worst Wisconsin accent). I walked up to the bar and asked Pedro if they were serving beer at 8 am. I did tell him that I’d been up all day or night or whatever and it was 1 am to my body at that point. It got a sniker from a fellow traveller and he just said “we don’t judge here.” Classic.

And GD was it good. Sam Adams in a bottle. Probably one of the Top 10 best beers of my life.

OK, I’m so f’in tired I can’t even type. I’ll check in once I have Internet at the hotel.

God Bless America I’m Ready to Get Outta Here

Is it a bad sign to start packing on a Monday for a Friday trip?

I am so excited, well, more desperate, to get out of here. I started going through all my crap to determine what would make it over. I plan to bring as little as humanly possible on the flight over to the US, so I can load up with tons of shit on the way back to PNG through Australia.

Unfortunately, I’m going to have to pack for both Summer and Winter, so that’ll take up too much unnecessary room. It’ll be early June in Texas, which isn’t really Summer, but there it’ll be in the low friggin’ 90Fs. The rest of the trip will be in Adelaide, where it’ll be in the 40Fs and 50Fs while I’m there. Think I’ll just bring an extra pair of Levi’s and maybe a jacket for Oz. If I need more, I can always buy something or bum it off someone. So weird to be living in the tropics where it’s 90F and 80 percent humidity everyday, then go to the two (relative) extremes all over a three week span.

I don’t even plan to pack a book since I’ll have Qantas TV for 18 hours and the rest of the time I’ll be dealing with an 18 month old in coach while Anna sleeps in the luxury of business class. Why bring a book that I can’t read when I plan to buy many, many books back in the US?

I’ve also started ripping some DVDs from a neighbor that brought them over from the states. Getting me in the mood for rippin’ galore in the US once I get there. I already have plans for a Rangers game, and off to El Fenix (cheese enchiladas anyone?) will my old work crew from TXU. Thought about going to see some big budget popcorn movie while I’m in Dallas, but I think I’ll do that in Adelaide by myself. We’ll probably do the independent movie/dinner/bottle of wine at the theater in Dallas instead.

Still keeping much of the Dallas week open to see what may develop. The Adelaide part I’m planning to see the first place Hawthorn Hawks play the Adelaide Crows in Aussie Rules and finally go tour the greatness of the Coopers Brewery.

It’s about 10 am Tuesday morning here in lovely Port Moresby – we leave in three days and seven hours….

One…More…Week

And Daddy gets on a big jetplane back to Texas. Well, three jetplanes actually. And, the Air Nuigini flight can’t exactly be described as “big.”

In other news:

• I almost had to bribe a cop yesterday. I was stopped at yet another roadblock and was directed to pull over. I’d rolled down the window on the passenger side and he just reached out his hand. So, I had him my PNG driver’s license, hoping that would be enough, but I had 50 kina in my hand just in case (about $17 US – the standard bride fare.) He gives my Budget rental car the once over, looked at my license and declared, “You Drew Hutson!?!?!” “Yes, yes I am.” Hands me back my ID and waved me on. I’ve only been called Drew Hutson (my first and middle names) by my mother and grandparents when I’d done something wrong so this completely scare the shit out of me, but, I got away without handing over the cash.
• We had a test run with a nanny yesterday, and let’s just say that Daddy is very, very excited to have some help looking after T in this place.
• If anyone wants to know more about why we’re in Papua New Guinea, here’s one little taste from Dow Jones of Thursday’s news or you can just Google News “PNG LNG.”
• I have another idea for a book/movie/TV show. Expat yummy mummies in a third world country. Oh do I have stories to tell after only two months.

All for now, more to come…