HOTEL, MOTEL, HOLIDAY INN: A week in Beirut

So here I go then. My job for the last seven years was basically to provide kids in Scotland with an alternative form of exercise in place of kicking pedestrians to sleep. As fulfilling as it was and even having known so many good people, I wanted to try other things. And besides, time was ticking: As a man, there comes an age in your life when you can't travel to places on your own without looking like a sex tourist.


 It takes four hours to fly from Heathrow to Beirut, a stint that seemed longer due to a screening of the new Chronicles of Narnia movie, set to a choir of unhappy babies.
 Stepping off the plane and collecting my bags, i then proceeded to the nearest taxi rank to engage in the inevitable monkey dance to get to your hotel without surrendering your entire budget to some sweaty opportunistic local wideboy. As if on perfect cue, he stormed off in a huff when i tried to ask for anything below $40, so we eventually settled for half that. On first impression you discover that its incredibly dense as a city, and with the mountains looming in the background giving the illusion of houses being piled on top of each other. There are 5 lanes on each road, extended to 6 if you count the pavement. I'm pretty sure the Lebanese DVLA consists of two guys in a smokey room screening an looped pirate copy of Die Hard 3. No one, quite honestly gives a shit. Horn honking starts before they start the car and will continue in an empty street. The entire process could be trivialized as a comical free for all if you weren't genuinely in danger of living the rest of your existence as a wonky legged cripple.

 I moved hotels today to somewhere cheaper and more centralised but also small enough that i could touch all four walls if i stand in the middle. It is ensuite but has a unique feature of being able to sit directly under the shower while taking a shit. Your move, Ikea.

Despite the ongoing threat of war kicking off, the Lebanese seem set on rebuilding the city and living the former playboy lifestyle of the 60's. Although there are thousands of formerly beautiful old paris-esque houses falling to bits (partly due to age and partly due to being covered in bullet holes and shelling) there is also vast new decadent buildings that look like theyve been pulled from Monaco or Dubai. The centre peice of all the war torn sites in the old Holiday Inn that sits on the waterfront. After the war started, snipers commonly used it as a vantage point and as a result it is simply a shell of its former self, empty to this day and as bullet strewn a building as youre ever likely to see. Its used now, barely, by the Lebanese army who line the bottom of it with barbwire and APC's.









Speaking of the army, they are everywhere. You dont go far without seeing guys on the corner carrying assault rifles and cooking under the sun. As I was trying to get a shot of the waterfront, an angry soldier dragging an M-16 around like a petulant child called me over to see the footage, making sure I wasn't filming him. I'm not sure what the definition of "awake" is, but by the time he dismissed me with a wave of his hand, i felt pretty fresh.
If anyone has seen Robocop, they might remember a rundown Detroit being rebuilt by a corporate giant OCP. In Beirut,the downtown area is being rebuilt by a company called Solidere and as a result is being renamed as such. Many Lebanese are up in arms at the loss of culture and history in exchange for an unprecedented promotional corporate stamp, but on the upside, its a small price to pay for a sweet ass cyborg police officer.

My last full day was undoubtedly the best. After willing away a hangover, I went to see Lebanon's candidate for the new 7 wonders of the world, Jeita Grotto. Two Danish guys from the hostel came with me and shared the taxi death race. I then ate chicken wings before heading to a gun club where i pumped 50 rounds out of a 9mm Beretta. If you are going to learn to use a gun, i figured i might as well do it here. I know this may be a contraversial issue but it is, without question, awesome. I can definitely see the side of pro-gun loons like Charlton Heston who rather than giving up his rifle, famously offered to have the weapon pryed from his "cold, dead hands". Its a pretty fun way to pass the time. Of course, if say, taxidermy also caused a billion deaths, id probably feel pressed to find myself another hobby. It would just seem right.

Anyway, overall, Lebabnon has its beautiful aspects but I didn't find them in Beirut. Its over-expensive, has the feeling that everyone is trying to rip you off, homicidal drivers and an uneasy atmosphere like a post-coital cigarette with Magic Johnson.

ALL-STAR EDITION

Insert your own HIV related gag here

Several things of note happened at this year’s NBA All-Star game that are worth talking about, so slip on your smoking jackets and we’ll begin:

Blake Superior

No-one has seen a dunker like Griffin in decades, so his hype was off the charts in the lead-up to the contest. The only other guy that could challenge him was Avatar reject JaVale McGee, who to his credit threw down some crazy dunks but just didn’t match the pageantry that the other contestants brought. Props and gimmicks appeared to be the theme this year with stuffed toys, extra balls, extra hoops and at one point, an obnoxious Chinese kid were all rolled out to assist with attempts.

In the end though, Blake and his “dunk coach”, Kenny Smith (Side note: Griffin needs dunk advice from Kenny Smith like Gary Glitter needs a summer Au Pair job) conjured up a final effort that saw him clear a car, all set to the warblings of a 30 person gospel choir singing “I Believe I Can Fly”.

Once the court had cleared of all the extra staff, vehicles and singers it was JaVale’s job to finish up the contest in the most excruciating and lonely fashion possible, set to the soundtrack of deadly silence. Unless he planned to dunk over a recently unearthed corpse of Wilt Chamberlain, the crowd and judges would fail to pay attention.

LeBron vs Kobe

Traditionally, the All-Star game is disappointing like your kids. Lack of defence and intensity for the first three and a half quarters makes for a horrible feeling that you stayed up till 4am for very little. That was the case for much of this year’s contest but for a couple of individuals that made things a little more interesting. As Kobe jacked up 400 shots on the way to 37 points and 14 boards, LeBron could be seen taking things more seriously than his East counterparts. He went coast to coast on several plays and just as the West seemed to be cruising to a blowout, James dragged his squad to within a single point, before free-throws killed the game. At one point during the game, Bryant was horsing down the court for an open jam while being chased by LeBron. He got a hand on the ball before Kobe managed to put it away, prompting a pat-on-the-backside taunt/acknowledge from the Lakers guard. In the end, LeBron notched up only the second triple double in All-Star history, the first being Michael Jordan.

Bieber Fever

The world is such a fractured place, with so many people clamouring to be attached to a particular group. Whether it be religious, political, national or sporting in nature, everyone needs to belong to something. It makes us feel less alone. While revolutions rage in the Middle East and people come together to fight against evil dictatorships, the West has its own crimes against humanity to contend with. Simply put, there are those of us who appreciate Justin Bieber and those who would prefer to watch him check out of this earthly plane in the most violent and messy fashion possible.

To his credit, he has a decent crossover. He also hit a couple threes. But he was about as deserving of the MVP as Fred West would be of a Gardener of the Year award. 

                                                                                                                                

 
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CHARITABLE CHI LEWIS-PARRY DATES DISADVANTAGED WOMEN ON "TAKE ME OUT"

Much of this week’s buzz has been that former Rocks player, Chi Lewis-Parry was a contestant on dating show, “Take Me Out”. (Full title: "Take Me Out To The Garden And Finish Me Off With Your Shoe, I'm A Fucking Disgrace".)

If you’re unfamiliar with the concept, here’s some official blurb from the website:

“Matchmaker Paddy McGuinness is here to fix up a host of sexy single ladies from across the UK in the hope of finding a match made in heaven. Each week, four brave bachelor boys will have to impress Paddy's flirty thirty to try and bag themselves a date. But if the girls don't like what they see then the boys face a black out and a trip back home alone.”

Basically, it’s this generation’s version of Blind Date. Whereas before the individual would base their decision not on looks, but on their intellectual responses to three personally tailored questions, Take Me Out throws men out to a baying crowd of barely functional creatures masquerading as “the opposite sex” all desperately looking for some sort of relationship past that of their psychotherapists.

Many women keep their lights on until they hear some sort of flicker of humanity in the potential suitors’ personality and the light goes off, meaning that they roll over to the next week like a depressing, handicap-centric national lottery. The smell of desperation in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife, if you hadn’t been already using it to self-harm.

Anyway, Chi was on it, right?

CLP has been keeping himself busy since leaving the Rocks, not least surprising me on the toilet (not for the first time) when his face peered back at me in a Sony Bravia magazine advert. He has been acting a little bit as well as modelling, while getting back into mixed martial arts in a big way.

His latest TV exposure did us all proud. From his arrival on the stage he managed to keep all of the thirty lights on, impress the crowd with a dunk and prove himself to be a true humanitarian: His choice was a Glaswegian girl who looked like the only thing she has ever been accompanied with was a fixed-ankle tracking braclet.

Thanks Chi. I think we all learned a thing or two about what it takes to be a good person.

 UPDATE!
Highlights from the show:

http://www.itv.com/takemeout/previously/week4/week4highlightvideo3/

 
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EX-ROCK YANDERS HITS $20,000 HALF-COURT SHOT

"Look at the finish, the release, the follow through!"

Yes, all of these things make a half-court shot an easier achievement. Being a PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL PLAYER doesn't hurt your chances either.


Midfirst are a bank that have been involved in stumping up the cash for halfcourt shots for years. Traditionally, they have often been seen to protect themselves from pay-outs by choosing, "at random", people with as many disabilities as its possible to compound into one body.

Bitter up my mouth, Newsok.com:

"Yanders raced from halfcourt toward the scorer’s table, eyes wide, mouth open, arms raised looking for someone to celebrate with. Russell Westbrook, arms also raised by then, looked willing to initiate an embrace. Kevin Durant, too. But Yanders zipped right and finally found a familiar face. He jumped into the arms of Thunder house emcee Joel Decker while 18,000 roared in appreciation."

“It happened so fast,” Yanders said of the shot. “I remember being asked (in the tunnel) what kind of shot will you shoot, a two-hand shot or a one-handed shot? I just said I’m going to shoot it as if I really wanted it to go in. And that’s what I did, man. And it went in.”

Good for him. Out of 25,000 Thunder fans they picked a guy that was as qualified to take a half-court shot as Stephen Hawking would be in a 'sitting still' competition.

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