Vance's Big Review of Cuba by Vance OR Nekkid Girls are Butterflies

Hello again, VR. Vance here with the promised Vance's Big Review of Cuba by Vance*.

Where we left off:

I was showing you two diffrent kina eye candy found in Havana. Two of the photos were of the classic and antique cars still chugging and farting their way about the place. The third was a nekkid girl regaled in skimpy but gigante butterfly... well... regalia.

As you might be able to discern, the guy looking all googly-eyed at her was smitten. I suspect this was so, merely because she was nekkid under her costume, which is kina stupid if you think about it.


Duh! She'd also be nekkid under her clothes when she's all bundled up. Bundling up happens rarely in hot, humid Havana, but you get my drift.

This picture was taken inside the most happening night spot in all of Cuba. You'd think, having never experienced it, that the Buena Vista Social Club is the MHSinC, but you guessed it! You'd be wrong. By a long kilometer (remember how that's pronounced: kilo-meter). The BVSC is a tourist trap with washed up old guys performing who get tired really fast.

This place is a new phenom in Havana. It's got Art with a vengeance. It is an old vegetable oil refinery building with a gazillion shipping containers arranged in a maze with multiple levels and 5 different bars serving Mojitos. Each room is a different "happening" with video, paintings, drawings, photography, interpretive dance, tableaux with live models, music, performance art, and all kina other artsy stuff I can't remember.
Here's a pic outside the place. You observant ones might just grok a '49 Plym going by, a 51 Chevy D, and a Lada in the foreground. That line goes around the block!

The only art not in evidence was mixology. As a matter of fact (granted, already descried), s-o-r-e-l-y l-a-c-k-i-n-g. You ask for a martini, and alls you'll get is a slack look, and a Mojito shoved at you. I had to teach a couple barkeeps what was what, and let me tell you. Believe me, it cost. Good thing alls I want in my martini is ice-cold gin and an olive. Vermouth may not  even exist in Cuba, but for a fact, it's scarce.

This might be a good thing, because in the hands of the inexperienced or misguided, vermouth can be a Bad Thing.

Here's how you make the perfect martini: Put your good gin in the freezer. Beefeater, Tanqueray, Hendricks, etc. Leave it there. 'Till it's gone. Once it's gelid with frozenness, pour some into a chilled glass. When I make my own at home, it's a two ouncer. Drop in a couple small spanish olives with the taillights (drain off the juice) and Bob's your Uncle!

I hesitate to even say this, but sometimes, in the hands of a Master, a couple drops of dry vermouth can be added to some benefit to the cocktail. However, if you are out to dinner, at a bar, or someplace you don't know the barkeep's level of expertise, just say "No" to the vermouth. And tell 'em stirred, not shaken.

The young people of Havana are jazzed to the gills to be able to go to this place. It is a wonderful sight to see. They appreciate the fuck out of just being able to go there, and you can tell that the artists are being let loose for the first time. It's all very undergrad art school, and if it were someplace else, like Omaha, people would be laughing their asses off at the naivete. I would too, being the insensitive schmuck I am. But, not even an insensitive schmuck could do that to this new scene. It's vibrant, and fun, and exciting to the kids of Havana.

Here's a pic of  Canadians posing with a ?


Then, when Vance grew tired of the social scene and went outside to check the action, he captured this:

And here's ashot of the smokestack of the refinery:

Next, I'll tell you all about the experience of being in a place with nobody left, in Part 2 of Vance's Big Review of Cuba by Vance*.


*Remember, Vance's Big Reviews of Stuff are not always by Vance. The ones not by Vance aren't as good as ones by Vance. Or kew.

No F'in' Way!

Way.

After you get up off the floor from the thunderbolt that just blew you off your swivel chair, read on.
Yeah buddy! Vance has a new blog post. And it on'y took 3 or 4 years to come up with something to say.

Sooo, remember when I wrote about the little theater in Berkeley that I got dragged to and actually enjoyed? I had a similar experience recently I thought I'd tell you, the loyal VR, about.

I know! WTF! Vance goes to some more nudder thing he'd rather be dead than do?

Well, that's a mite strong, but let's leave it for dramatic effect, 'n' stuff.

Anyways, it was apparently for an important cause.  It appears that in the interest of going to Cuba to see some old cars rattling around, Vance had to agree to participate in the machine of Cultural Exchange and Awareness,  International Relations, and The Arts!

Vance? Unlikely ambassador, right? Autistic, perhaps, but certainly not artistic.

I love that joke. Gets funnier every time!

Don't get all anxiety ridden! I behaved. Barely even whinged and sniveled. That took an effort, but hey! Like Mashie said that other time: "It isn't all about Vance......"

Pffft.

I'm still trying to get over that particular revelation. But back to it: It seems, that if you're gonna try to slip into Cuba from the US for a bit of a beach vacay, so's to ride around in '59 Chevys with Skoda engines all up in 'em, 'n' stuff, and enjoy a bit of a holiday, forget it.


The US govmint just says "NO" to that particular scenario. Apparently, some of us are still pissed that Castro and Che and them all took away our sandbox, so the ones who's still pissed had to make stupid  and intrusive rules for us to go see a couple Chevodas. I  had to sign a paper promising I'd participate in 8 hours per day of cultural and educational programming, just to get into the place.

Vance doesn't do something like that willy-nilly, as you, my loyal VR, well know.

What did this mean in actuality?  Read on.

But first, here's a bit of Havana-style Studebaker eye candy to whet your appetites:

Kew, huh? I promise I'll give you a look at a Chevoda or something later on.

This is what it means in actuality: Imagine: Vance is sitting in a single row of metal folding chairs with  the 10 others in his group, in a darkened theater, nearly on the stage. All of a sudden, the Fish Dance on Steroids begins all up in his grill!  

It's a modern dance interpretation of the beginning of the world, then the history of mankind through...well,... history, by 30 dancers who gyrate and gesticulate and terpret modernly through dance the whole shebang!  And writhe! 

There's hella keening and misery and throwing theyselfs to the floor in despair. There was battles raging and raping and pillaging and murders and meat eating and fur wearing and child abuse (Implied. No actual children were molested.) Then all of a sudden, Jazz was born. 2 minutes of happiness and joyousness, then..... BAM!  Back to throwing theyselfs to the floor in despair. 

I think that happy part was when Obama got elected. Then, you know... There was no orange wig in evidence, so I can't be positive about that being the sole reason for the abrupt change back to all the keening, wailing, and writhing, but it works for me. 

And that was just one morning's Cultural Exchange and Awareness, International Relations, and The Arts! It was all exhausting. Then, to make matters even more deprivational, all they drink in Cuba is Mojitos!

There's crap beer too. And, the only gin they have is Spanish! Just imagine......

Here's the promised picture, only it's a Chevundai:

Yup. It's a Hyundai 4 cylinder diesel engine in a pink fitty nine Chevy. 

Just to make you think that the Oldsmocedeses and Ladarolets were not the only reason Vance was interested in Cuba, here's another picture:

I'll tell you all about it next time in:

Vance's Big Review of Cuba by Vance*

*Remember, Vance's Big Reviews of Stuff are not always by Vance. The ones not by Vance aren't as good as ones by Vance. Or kew.