Pierogi, Barszcz, Underground Cafes

In the midst of my frustration at the radio set last night, I forgot to mention a couple good things: food and drink. First up, I had been demanding Polish cuisine, especially pierogi, the wee dumplings that are a lot like the buttery pelmeny I adored back in Russia. So last night Marcin ("Duze Pe"), one of the guys helping book the Polish leg of the tour, took me out for pierogi, and in a very weird coincidence, the restaurant ended up being one I had walked right by and even looked at their menu. In fact, it's on the left in this picture right here from yesterday. I had turned down this street in my wanderings, almost as if drawn there: It's like I have a sixth pierogi sense. So anyway: yum. I got a kind of garlic/spinach/cheese filled thing, and then a big steaming thing of borsch, or "barcz" or whatever it is here. Plus: kompot, syrupy fruit drink! The restaurant itself was just a couple small tables with a window into what looked like somebody's kitchen at their house, and the adorable little 3- or 4-year-old girl running around the place added to that feeling. Of course it wasn't without international incidents: after all the salty borsch, I went up and asked for a glass of water, proud that I could say it in Polish; they asked me something in return I didn't understand so I just nodded. They hand me a thick glass cup and I go to take a drink and recoil in pain: it's boiling hot. Marcin is like "Yeah i heard them ask you if you wanted it hot but I didn't know if you understood." I was like, why would i want hot water?

Afterwards we walked back down the main street in Warsaw's historic district, past the presidential palace with news crews parked outside, and Marcin goes "oh yeah let's go to this bar where I know people," and we duck into a stairwell I would never have noticed in a million years to find the coolest little underground dungeon of a hipster hangout. "Indeks" it was called, and with its multiple tiny little smoke-filled vaulted-ceiling rooms and a tiny stage for performances, it was exactly my image of underground Warsaw. Since it was before the radio set I was desperate to wake up and only indulged in a sludgy coffee, but still.

Anyway I forgot to take pictures of either of these places (I'm terrible about that) so here's a picture of the sun coming out this morning from the hotel window.

Polish Radio 1, Party Ben 0

To anyone listening to my live set earlier tonight on Radio Bis: I'm sorry. If you weren't listening, I'm glad. But to all of you, let me explain. I did in fact do an interview during the hour previous to the mix, but I didn't get a chance to look at the CD players until about a minute before I was supposed to start the mix, and there was a bit of a problem: one perfectly functional CDJ-1000, and one completely shot-to-hell Numark CDX. The cue and search functions didn't work right, and sometimes the CDs wouldn't register when I put them in, requiring one to turn the thing off and on again. When it actually read the CDs, I'd have to just start the tracks at the beginning and speed them up manically to try and get them to the right intro point and match it all up... needless to say, it kind of sucked. Of course I had a whole bunch of complicated mixes planned--it's a radio station, what could go wrong? So, after the first couple major mixing flubs I just stopped trying to beatmatch with that CD player and would just start the songs. Sigh. I suppose it's comeuppance: I was just talking to the TV crew that filmed my arrival and interview at the radio station that I use CDs because laptops are unreliable. Touche, great god of laptops! You have taught me humility.

The tracklisting, such as it was:
Party Ben - Boulevard of Broken Songs (2007 Crunk Mix)
Party Ben - Galvanize the Empire
Party Ben - Pump Up the Doorbell
Party Ben - We Will Jump Around (with Go Home Productions - Rock In Black)
Party Ben - Callin' Up the Pieces (B-more Remix)
Chemical Brothers - Star Guitar (Party Ben's a Big Bright Shining Star Remix) (with Ludacris - Stand Up)
Party Ben - The Way I Keep Me Hangin' On
Obvious Productions - Standing In the Way of Your Friends
Party Ben - Somebody Rock Me
Party Ben - Wild Thing / Hustlin' / Feel Good Inc + Justice (no name for this)
Party Ben - Rehab (Can't Help Myself)
Party Ben - Tender Umbrella
A+D - Deceptafreakon
Party Ben - Boyz in Polska (Kult vs. MIA)
Party Ben - Dr. Who on Holiday (with Freedom Intro and Mega Outro)

Well, anyway, the staff at Radio Bis were very nice and they all seemed appropriately surprised by the track with Kult, a Polish band from back in the day. Thanks to host DJ Lexus and everybody at Bis, and again, sorry the mixing sucked.

Top: me in front of the Polskie Radio building.
Below: Duze Pe (who's basically organized the Polish leg of the tour), DJ Party Sucksalot, and Bis host DJ Lexus.

Gettin' Euros 2007, The Video: Chapter 2: Warsaw

These videos have to be pretty short due to limited camera memory (and super slow upload speeds) but that's probably for the best since they're pretty dopey.

Much better are some still photos, here of of Warsaw's Stare Miasto (old town) area. I'll post more of these on my Flickr site when I'm back or have a better connection to the intertubes.

Warsaw: Second Impressions

Last night, after a few welcome hours of afternoon shut-eye, I decided to venture out into the Warsaw wilds in search of an ATM, some form of snack, and perhaps a phrase book, since the only Polish thing in the whole gigantic language section at Borders in SF was an ancient-looking dictionary. I stepped out of the brightly-lit hotel into a bit of another world: trams barreled down the center of wide, Soviet-style boulevards and a bit of drizzle was intermittently falling out of the dark sky. Directly adjacent to the hotel, the street crosses a train line that's only partially underground, and the glimpses of the rickety train and poorly-lit platform below were oddly nightmarish. Flashing back to my days in post-communist Russia circa 92-94, I start to get those where-am-I-going-to-find-food-today jitters, but right across the street a line of restaurants and shops fills the first floor of a series of apartment blocks, and there's a bank right over there too, whose ATM dispenses 100 zloty to me without any problem. Hmm, 2.5 zloty to the dollar, that's kind of tough; you divide by two and then, uh, add some? Or subtract? Alls I know is: it's not Euros, and that can only be good.

Left: not my picture, i didn't take my camera with me last night since it was, you know, dark.

My walk towards the center of town takes me past the Palac Kultury i Nauki, the Soviet building that was a "gift" to Warsaw after World War II; it's in the same style as the gargantuan Stalinist gothic fantasy buildings that dominate Moscow in a foreboding "Batman" kind of way, but here, possibly because of the neon decoration and a sign for what appears to be a movie theater, this one seems far less threatening. Walking along the street, I come to an intersection that doesn't appear to have any crosswalks, and then I notice that what I thought was a subway entrance is actually for the good old, well "perekhod," another Soviet indulgence that I kind of like: elaborate tunnels under the streets filled with small businesses and restaurants. I note the kebab and sandwich stalls for future reference.

Emerging on Marszalkowska street, there's an inviting line of stores, like your H&M and Benneton and stuff; I wander along to find Empik, a kind of Polish Virgin Megastore with albums and books and a 3rd floor café facing the Palac. It's after 9pm and not much is open but Empik is, and after some searching I find a tolerable phrase book, and go grab a hot chocolate in the café. Super-stylish young women are giggling over a laptop at the table next to me, and KT Tunstall is on the house stereo. But old habits die hard, and at about 9:40pm, a deafening basso voice rumbles out of the speakers, informing patrons that, from what I can gather, the store is closing at 10, please make your purchases. It's so loud it's hard to concentrate, and after it runs for about 3 minutes, I realize it's on a loop, repeating over and over, to drive us stragglers out of the store. I do not think this would be tolerated in America, but maybe I'm wrong.

I go to buy the phrasebook as the store shakes with admonitions to approach the cashier. I'd already noticed the little "put your money here, don't hand it to me" tray when I bought my hot chocolate, another thing I remember from Russia, but the Voice is distracting me so much that I just hold my 20-zloty note out to the guy, who gives me a quick but pity-filled look and points at the tray.

I emerge from the store, my head still rattling with admonishments to "cobirat' do kassu" or something, and the world is transformed: snow is falling in giant, wet, fluffy flakes. I feel like maybe taking the tram back to the hotel but I don't know which number to take, and besides, the guidebook says that while you can buy tickets on the tram, there's no guarantee the driver will actually have them and if not you can still be fined, which seems like an invitation to an international incident, so I walk back to the hotel through the falling snow, collecting on my jacket, and every once in a while landing right in my eye with a wet splortch.

Back at the hotel, I finish work on the Polish-themed mashup I'm making for the mix on Bis as well as a new mix of a secret thing I'd just completed for an upcoming multi-producer Chemical Brothers bootleg album project being arranged by Electrosound (stay tuned). Finally I start to get excited about the mix; funny how it is, and no wonder I make these mashup things, since I get so bored after playing songs once or twice that I just can't help but mess around with them, and then my nervousness and dread I get before almost any live set turns into can't-wait anticipation. I wanna play this Polish thing and see if Poland freaks out!!! We'll see: could we be on the eve of another international incident?

Anybody Know How to Drive a Paris Subway Train?

Jeez, France, it's always something. Two years ago, immediately previous to my trip there with fellow Bootie DJs Adrian & Mysterious D, Paris had erupted in riots after the deaths of two teenagers being chased by police in an eastern suburb. The city was still under a travel advisory when we got there -- they had even warned against taking the aiport RER train into the city, since it passed through some of the affected suburbs and people had been throwing stuff at the cars. Thankfully, of course, things had calmed down by the time we arrived, but this year, there is another, perhaps more serious threat to my trip, one even more traditionally French than riots: strikes!

French transit workers went on strike last night to protest, if you can believe it, the potential elimination of the special retirement category that allows certain public service workers the right to stop working at age 50. 50! As in, Sally O'Malley "I'm fiffftyyyy!" As in, if I was a transit worker and not a DJ, I could retire in 13 years, from my still-incredibly-youthful-and-good-looking 37! The strike is affecting both long-distance trains and the local Paris subway and commuter trains, all of which I was, um, planning on taking in about two weeks. I'm flying into Paris after Bootie Munich, so I can get there, but then Zebra, Moule and I were planning on taking the train to Bordeaux to start the all-France mega-tour, and continue utilizing ground-based transport for the duration, so, I dunno, if the strike continues, I guess we'll all have to rent motorcycles?

I'm usually a supporter of labor (you go, Writers Guild, get those residuals!) and I'm of course no fan of Sarko, whose insistence on labor reform was a big part of his platform, but come on, people! Do you have any idea how bad it is in the rest of the world? Try getting a doctor's appointment on the CBS health plan, that'll make the extra 5 years of driving the subway look like a walk in the park.

Anyway, with my arrival in France still two weeks away, hopefully things will all get worked out before I get there. And maybe during the negotiations they could also take care of that whole different-price-for-coffee-if-you-sit-down thing?

Warsaw: Weird

Well, that's not fair: it's normal for Warsaw, but weird for someone who lived in Russia. Everybody looks vaguely Slavic, but maddeningly, I can only understand half the words they say. It's like, "bliggle blag it's possible to go fleep flapple in the florg because tomorrow we'll buy dargle barg." Yes, I think? The aging infrastructure and apartment blocks (and the dreary gray sky and freezing temperatures) are very familiar, but the super swank hotel I'm safely ensconced in (the Kyriad Prestige) is way nicer than the places I usually grab on Priceline even back in the homeland. Thankfully I have a free day today so I believe my first priority will be to lie down. After that I'll be working on a couple secret surprise mashups featuring Polish tunes for my set on Radio Bis tomorrow, and then hoping the weather clears up so people feel like coming out to the gigs, or maybe they're used to it.

I Can't Get No Sleep

Ugh! Misery, thy name is insomnia. The plan was: fly out of SFO at 6pm, arrive Frankfurt at 2pm, stay up til normal bedtime, then get a good night's sleep and be totally adjusted to the new time zone scenario. Well, of course, it didn't work out that way. All afternoon and evening yesterday I'm wandering around Frankfurt in a kind of stupor, and when I sit down I can barely keep my eyes open. Finally I get back to the hotel and hit the hay around 11, and I'm wide awake. 7 hours of BBC World later, here I am, not a minute spent unconscious. What's the deal? I guess back in the good old Pacific Time zone it's afternoon, not my usual sleepy time, but now I've got to get up and fly to Poland and, you know, do stuff, and unless I pass out at some point, going to bed tonight I will have been awake 48 hours. At what point does one have to watch out for hallucinations? Hold on, I'm going to ask this giraffe right here. ...Uh-huh. You don't say. Really? Well, I wasn't planning on operating any heavy machinery, but thanks Mr. Giraffe.

One More Frankfurt Photo

Gettin' Euros 2007, The Video: Chapter 1: Euros!

Willkommen aus Frankfurt

Fier einen nacht only!! Hey, thanks, crazy tailwinds in the jet stream! Your nutty river of air pushed our little 777 along so fast that a whole hour was shaved off the flight, although your turbulence did keep me from getting much sleep. But wow, you go, wind.

So, Frankfurt. I'm just here one night but rather than stay out at the Airport Hilton or whatever for 200€ / night, I figure why not take the conveinent train into town and stay here for 50€ a night? A smart idea, thanks to European planning: going from the gate to the airport train station took about 7 minutes, and while the automated ticket machines there were a bit complicated, once I bought a ticket and got on the train, nobody ever checked it. The ride to Frankfurt's main train station took all of 10 minutes, and the Hotel Excelsior is directly across the street from the main station. It's 53€ a night, and while the room is hilariously tiny (see photo at right), otherwise it's perfect: spotless, free internet, free drinks in the in-room minibar (!!?) free breakfast. The 'hood around the Hauptbahnhof isn't exactly buzzing (and there's a creepy lady talking to herself in the lobby as I type this) but who cares?


Sven Vath: He freakin' owns this town

I wandered around Frankfurt while there was still some daylight and enjoyed its lovely, if somewhat generic, sights. The Zell, the main shopping street, was packed with people but still oddly quiet; in the States that amount of people would create a deafening roar. The street vendor bratwurst was just about the best thing I've ever eaten: a succulent sausage topped with spicy mustard in a fresh bun, with a sparkling apple juice. But at 4€50 ($6.60!) even the street food is kind of pricey when the Euro is whooping your ass. I thought I'd take the subway the two stops back to the hotel but when I entered the station name on the ticket machine, it said it would cost 2€20 ($3.23), and I was like, "I can walk it."

Tonight, trying to see how long I can stay up to just get that jet lag out of the way (I'm fading fast), and tomorrow morning, back to the airport and off to Warsaw.

What's First Class on an International Flight Worth?

This is kind of amusing. I'm flying from SFO to Frankfurt today, and after much searching and fretting, I ended up buying a business class seat with my "Mileage Plus" miles that I've been accruing over the years. A coach seat would have cost $550-ish, and those fares are non-upgradeable -- i.e., there's no amount of miles or money that can sneak you into business class, because of the fare structure. So I was randomly looking around United's website to see about buying the ticket with miles, and I saw that a business class seat cost 80,000 miles, which I had. The seat would have cost like $1500 in money, so I figure that's a pretty good bargain, and besides, that airline's probably going under any minute now so I should use these miles while the gettin's good, right?

So I went to check in online today for the SFO-Frankfurt flight, and after giving my info, the website asked me "Would you like to upgrade to United First?" Whaaa, hummmm? The flight is on a big old international 777, where business class is pretty good but not the super spread-out business class like on some planes I've been on. So I click the "continue" arrow to check it out. The next screen informs me that "Upgrade to First Class for: $619." Gulp! So, wait, let's figure this out. A round-trip first class ticket probably would have cost like $5,000, and if you assume 100 mileage miles=$1, my flight "cost" $800. Multiply $619 x 2 (if it gave me the round trip option, which who knows if that would have happened), and you have a grand total of about $2000 for a first class ticket. Of course for God's sake there's no way I'm spending $600 for a one-way first class upgrade, but for a brief moment, the possibility was thrilling.

So I guess the question is: how much would I have paid? A 12-hour flight from SFO-Frankfurt, I'm already in business class although I got it for "free" with miles, a one-way upgrade to First... hmmm. Maybe $150, $200? I mean, those are lie-flat beds I think, that's worth about the cost of a night in a hotel, right? Well, anyway, of course I'm mostly just interested in getting there in one piece.

How to Pack for a European Tour

Don't forget the American flag T-shirt and cargo shorts! Actually I've been stressing out a bit over the packing process for this upcoming jaunt. I haven't checked a bag for a flight in about 5 or 6 years; not only am I a bit concerned about lost baggage (which, if your bag contains your CDs and your, um, light saber, could be catastrophic) but also the trouble of waiting around while your bag eventually shows up at baggage claim, not to mention traipsing around Europe on subways and whatever, you don't want a humongo suitcase. So, I'm just taking the carry-on roller bag.

I spent some money on a Victorinox Parliament rolling carryon bag this year before I had about 5 big trips right in a row. It was almost $400, but it was back in my days of being slightly more flush. I bought this size because it seemed like it would fit my big CD book, my 17" laptop, and some random junk pretty well, and looked to be pretty sturdy. It made it through a couple trips alright, but two months ago on a trip to LA, the pull-out handle completely disintegrated in my hand just as I was getting off the plane at LAX. It was honestly like a cartoon, with little bits and geegaws flying off of it, and a "ba-doiiinng" noise, followed by the "waaap, waaa" sound of disappointment. The handle was just gone, there was nothing connecting the two extend-o-poles, which now ended in sharp busted crap, making pulling the thing impossible, and of course these rolling bags are a bit heavy. Needless to say I was perturbed, having to cart it around all weekend. Now, because of the warranty (and me yelling at Edwards Luggage) they quickly repaired the thing, but I have to admit I am pretty nervous taking it on this trip: if it breaks again, I'm throwing it in the Danube and buying a $20 duffel bag.

This guy over at Onebag.com is a strong advocate of the non-rolling bag, and I was seriously tempted. I don't love strolling along with my bag bouncing on the pavement behind me like a stewardess, and with my long legs (and wide stance) I'm always banging my heel into the thing and knocking it sideways. But my crap is heavy, with the laptop and everything, and I just don't want to develop the shoulder bruises I used to get from my shoulder bag.

So, I'm taking it, and then a little Dickies shoulder bag for the CD book actually, that was my compromise so I have room for a couple more pairs of underpants. I wanted to replace my ancient Technics record bag that's falling apart, but I've been looking for a new one of those for a year and can't find one anywhere. Help?

What to pack is entirely another matter. There wasn't room for much even in the roller: about 5 T-shirts, 6 or 7 pairs of underpants, some socks, 3 more serious shirts. That's basically it, for almost one month of European galivanting, and it's gonna be kind of cold, and buying anything new will cost me a zillion dollars (see Euro posting below). So who knows how it'll work out. I'm only taking the pants I'm wearing on the plane, too -- that'll probably set some kind of record.

No I Haven't Left for Europe Yet

For the last two weeks, I keep getting e-mails saying "I know you're already in Europe, but..." and running into people on the street who are like "Oh, are you back already?" Why does everybody think I'm already in Europe? Just because I've been talking about it all the time for like 3 years? I think you're all acting a little too anxious for me to leave the country. Is America planning a secret house party at my apartment while I'm away? Damn you kids! Use coasters at least!!!

Seriously I only announced the dates like a month ago so I don't think I'm overdoing it.

Anyway, I leave on Sunday.

Euros is Awesome Moneys

I don't know what the deal is, but ever since I was a junior high school geek, I've been fascinated by currency exchange rates. I was always interested in foreign countries in general, I guess, and despite being isolated in the middle of Nebraska, I was lucky enough to stumble into some opportunities to travel. When I was about 13 (I think) a nearby college sponsored a junior high school student trip to England and France, for about 10 days in July. It was pretty cheap, although you had to get recommendations from teachers and write an essay to qualify or something. Anyway, the idea that my cash, earned from furious lawn-mowing for the months before the trip, might be worth more or less in these other places was intriguing to me, I guess, so I watched the exchange rates in the paper like a hawk, and was excited when the dollar went up right before our trip: I could buy more Frankie Goes to Hollywood and Ultravox records!!

Fast forward, er, some years. Now, on the eve of my tour of Europe, our lovely American dollars are basically worth less than toilet paper all over the continent. $1.47 at last check, which is completely bonkers: when I was in Amsterdam over New Year's 2001-2002, the Euro was a joke of a currency, floating around 80 cents, and everything was a bargain. I did the math, and even McDonald's was cheaper in Amsterdam than in San Francisco. Crazy. I stayed in one of the best hotels in the city and flaunted my riches around like a feudal lord. (Of course I got desperately ill and threw my back out and had a miserable time anyway, but whatever, fuck Amsterdam).

But this trip will be very different. Searching for a Paris hotel for part of the trip made me feel like a desperately poor student all over again: anything under $150/night was basically a shoddy hostel in the 900th Arrondisement. I'm trying to save money these days, so it's even more stressful--I can't just say "hey I'll buy a pair of shoes there if these hurt my feet," since those shoes might cost the equivalent of $200. On the other hand, my DJ fees will be paid in Euros and of course they have already been set, so every day it's like my fees go up a couple bucks. Planning a European tour, it's like an investment in your future. I couldn't afford not to go.

The question will be if I can resist tasty European snacks enough to make the Euro's dizzy heights work for me and actually bring home a profit. We'll see... I'm awfully tempted by snacks.

San Francisco Crime Wave?

While (knock wood!) nothing's happened to me personally, anectodal reports and news stories seem to be saying crime in San Francisco is on the upswing, and perhaps more importantly, criminals are getting more brash and violent. A friend came up to the city from LA to see me DJ a few weeks ago, and went downtown Saturday afternoon. He parked his car on 5th St. near Minna by the Chronicle building around 2-ish, went and wandered around a bit, and when he came around 3pm, two guys were throwing a rock through the back window of his car. He yells "hey, get away from there," but instead of running off, one of them attacks him, throwing him up against a chain link fence while the other searches the car. Of course he has nothing of value. After they left it took two hours for the cops to arrive, then there was checking out the bruised rib at the hospital, the thousands of dollars in car repairs, and the shattered nerves. Granted, 5th Street isn't exactly the Marina, but 3 in the fucking afternoon?

Matier and Ross have a little story about crime affecting noted San Francisco officials, with quite a few eyebrow-raising stories, including the Police Commissioner getting whacked on the head for his iPhone, for instance. It also seems like the homeless population has gone up a whole level, and they seem to be more aggressively panhandling. I try to toss people change when I can -- no matter how shitty my life is, theirs are worse, even if it's all their own fault, and I'd hope somebody would give me 50 cents if I went crazy and started living on the street -- but it's honestly like walking through a war zone downtown. One unusually warm night last year I decided to walk home from my job in North Beach to my house in SOMA, about a half-hour jaunt across downtown, and as it was about 9pm, the homeless population had settled into doorways and benches. The sheer numbers were overwhelming to me -- I probably came across 100 homeless people just on my route home. It seems symbolic of the problem with San Francisco: supposed liberalism is corrupted by its monolithic hold on government power, and because there's no dynamic opposition forces, far fewer liberal goals are ever actually met, and what does happen is half-assed. Homelessness has been a huge issue for 20 years here, but a concerted effort (with money behind it, like, for better or worse, New York's effort to clean up their streets in the 80s and 90s) seems more impossible than ever. But with crime and homelessness seemingly reaching a critical point, one wonders how much the city can take, until even our safely-ensconced Democratic machine candidates get the message.