My first YouTube video: Antwerp city funfair

I’m as proud as a five yo child: my first steps, My First YouTube Video - well, we all have to start somewhere

Lost - the personal edition

Win some, lose some, the saying goes, but how would you cope when you were to lose virtually most of your long-time friends, almost instantly? I’m currently browsing over 4,000 diving related photos that represent a major part of my life, as I’ve been socializing with divers for a significant part of my adult existence. OK, it took me years to convince myself that I was up to scuba diving (if you knew the cold submerged marble quarries where Belgians train in locally, you’d understand), but diving in Egypt was not the ultimate experience. The ultimate experience was socializing just across the border near the Dutch beaches, where I spent numerous weekends over the past ten years.

These divers (links to a French club I was also very close with) really were a significant part of my life: I spent countless nights looking at the stars on their boats, taking their pictures 30m (100 feet) deep while exotic fish passed me by, joining them on their tropical vacations to yet another ultimate diving spot. I was invited to their baby showers, spent Christmases together, was present at their weddings and funerals: these were my friends, and it felt like home. And now it’s over, and I’m lost, more than the actors from the ABC TV series will ever be. No, I’m absolutely not “desperately alone” - rest assured, I do have a life, but I’m just facing facts.

Sure, I blogged about some of the complex issues leading up to this emotionally disconcerting break-up, but that didn’t change much. Starting early in 2006, I tried to rebuild a new social environment, one not focused on my previous diving buddies. Two years later and much to my surprise, I basically failed, facing an egocentric Belgian society where people live their highly individualized existence, a society that appears only to be into networking and socializing if it results in net profits and gains.

Looking at my s/o, I realized he went through a similar experience: when he lost his business, some ‘friends’ even forgot his name. And much like my s/o, I haven’t got a clue what to do next. In a way, I feel like the main character in The Starter Wife, only my gay scriptwriters haven’t given me that many lucky breaks lately. How would you do it, almost starting over from scratch socially? [My photo: some of my diving buddies, Southern Holland, June 2005]

Antwerp in 1,294 photos and videos, on a google map

In need of scanning lots of amateur shots and videos from all over the Antwerp area, interactively presented on a Google map?
http://wiki.worldflicks.org/antwerp.html is a great resource, especially giving the visible link between location/photos and the
material on flickr. Saves me a lot of work uploading/posting my own. But I might reconsider if you really  insist

Euro trash II, the 2008 Eurovision song contest winner

‘He really sounds like your gay hairdresser, although your hairdresser keeps his shirt on while working’, my s/o said Anyway, the Russians won this ‘European’ quality song contest tonight. Having expected an avalanche of utterly trashy songs, it’s hard to believe this event once launched the carriers of Abba and Celine Dion. Some former Soviet countries sent half-naked, visually wild Barbie dolls with peroxided hair, bleached teeth, fake boobs and a dark spray-on suntan, with nothing worth remembering musically. Most Belgian commenters felt it was basically time to say goodbye to what has become the most campy musical show on the planet. But rest assured, this show will go on: camp has become the crowd-pulling hallmark of the current [YouTube:] Eurovision Song Contest. “See you next year in Moscow!”

Euro Trash: the 2008 Eurovision song contest

I just switched channels. The 2008 Eurovision song contest semi-final, live from Belgrade, Serbia resembled a cheap cabaret show, covered in an expensive high-tech wrapping. Mariah Carey body-doubles from Poland, weird Nordic groups with outrageously loud, atonal mega-show packaging that hurt my ears, no, this was no music contest, this was an attempt by 40+ musically obscure countries (hello Russia, hello Azerbaijan!) to prove they could get away with raping a musical heritage that was not theirs. While I admired the rare Transylvanian (whatever) acts that desperately tried to remain authentic, most countries/acts kept on pretending to be an MTV music video from LA. They failed.

Basically, they all forgot one basic prerequisite to really be that great star: ‘talent’, a commodity replaced by exploding fireworks, fake exotic (but mostly plain weird) charm and equally fake boob-jobs. Time for some real music. Oh, Belgium dropped out almost instantly, after a disgraceful act presented a song in a non-existent language. Really [My screen capture from the 2008 Eurovision song contest website (watch the final Sat May 24 and have a laugh!): Poland tried to sell some lingerie, hoping we wouldn't listen to the music]

Gay pride Brussels: the ultimate drag queen shot

Last weekend Belgium saw the annual Brussels gay pride. I’m no longer into ‘gay prides’, not even the Antwerp edition next June. I can post a long write-up, but this single stunning shot by talented photographer Jacques Verees perfectly managed to capture why I avoid these ‘prides’. Take a long look at this shot. Can you imagine that, no matter how tolerant I may be, no matter how comfortable I feel ‘just letting go, being crazy and wild’, I feel like I have nothing in common with these men? That I don’t want to be associated with the public provocative behavior they stand for? Notice they have bad teeth, bad taste, but oh boy, they are sooo proud My significant other rolled on the floor laughing when he looked at this shot - did it induce the same emotions with you? [Image link courtesy of Jaco]

Edible sex: Sharon Osbourne did not flash a nipple here

You’re looking at some (partially edible) merchandise on sale at ‘Swiet & Seksie‘, Antwerp’s most successful erotic food store: huge penises in quality chocolate or home-made cake, ‘Lesbian SM couple’ nipples in prime grade marzipan, huge breasts made of ice-cream: you name it, they sell it (do check out their website). The place was closed today and I’ve alway been hesitant asking for permission to take shots inside, hence the window shots. But anyway, who needs reading my boring post on Sharon Osbourne’s nipples if you can both watch, order and actually eat all this delightful (eye)candy?

The Antwerp 2008 ‘Sinksenfoor’ funfair: look, don’t touch

The Antwerp 2008 ‘Sinksenfoor’ funfair: opening evening nightshot - May 10, 2008. You’re looking at thrill-seekers in one of the 100 fast-moving attractions, pulling a huge crowd until June 22. The opening was a real party: 28°C/82°F, a clear blue sky and countless visitors having the time of their life. I’m still trying to figure out a way to process my 200 opening night shots. I may choose for a Flickr photo selection and maybe post some videos on my YouTube account. Shouldn’t have gotten that new camera

I only regret not being able to ride one of these speed-monsters myself: ever since my injury it has become a look, don’t touch experience. Anyway, many attraction do not catapult me higher than Antwerp cathedral: the selection of food on sale is amazing (waffles!)

A tropical day in paradise: Antwerp’s best outdoor sauna

Like you may have noticed, the 28°C/85°F temperatures didn’t exactly incite me to post during the past week. With a violent thunderstorm ending the fun tonight, I will share a day of unashamed pampering in the sun with you all. And pampering was definitely on the menu, over at Kouros (do check out their website in English), Antwerp’s most exclusive male-only ’sauna and leisure club’. Kouros is a refreshing breath of fresh air compared with the (often rightfully earned) sleazy reputation of “male-only saunas”. This particular place not only oozes with class but manages to provide its services as if they all came out of a well-prepared package deal: dining along the outside pool, a wine label of their own, top quality service and infrastructure in what used to be a classic green suburbia mansion.

I talked for hours to some amazingly interesting people (many were not local, several spoke a multitude of languages) until the first drops of rain hit the outside hot-tub, not really a problem since we were all wet anyway. Diner was equally superb, turning the day into a real experience. If you’re even in the neighborhood, this place is worth checking out. Being gay is not a requirement, being male is

When cars get too smart

Sometime reality beats fiction. On my way to the Antwerp leftbank city beach tonight (28°C/85°F) I had to avoid these 30 ton trucks, making a narrow escape as the Antwerp Kennedy river tunnel is a notorious death-trap. Anyway, I arrived safely and tried to check the onboard computer. When I clicked “disengage anti-carjacking door lock” I got a complete system reset and 10 seconds of utter disbelief, before one of the displays came up with this message: “I don’t want to”. Great, just what I needed

A friend of mine claimed up to 30% of roadside assistance interventions are caused by freaky car electronics behavior. Do you still feel safe, in cars stuffed with more electronics than an average PC?

Belgium’s weirdest beach

I posted these shots to show how deceiving an image can be. Left: a small part of Antwerp beach, a great green and inviting place during a week Antwerp is enjoying unseasonably warm 28°C (82°F) temperatures. An Olympic open-air pool, a fashionable marina, along with countless open air terraces offering a great river view: sounds like the perfect location to escape the busy city. We all love this place.

Turning my camera 180° shows a stunning view hardly any site likes to mention: there’s no escaping five oil refineries across the river, as Antwerp is home to a massive concentration of petrochemical industries, second only to the huge petrochemical cluster in Houston, Texas. Add four nuclear power plants and you simply must love Antwerp city beach. Oh, care for a river swim? Please don’t, it may kill you

Real Fame: The CIA loves to read my blog

As my father used to say: it’s not about what you know, but who you know to get anywhere in life. Anyway, I’ve always enjoyed getting visitors from the planet’s most exotic locations or just watch corporate employees from Fortune 500 companies spending more than the classic three drive-by seconds at my humble blog, in search of a post I’d never imagined being able to hold anyone’s attention.

A US government employee once really surprised me by actually posting a comment from his DC office PC, as we all know that the blogosphere at large is no longer a place of innocent diary keeping. Blogs get searched, indexed, cached, scanned for pictures, videos and keywords, often by systems like Echelon, along with the numerous other programs aimed at achieving ‘total information awareness’. And trust me, the supercomputer scanning your “dear diary” blog will not leave any recognizable traces in your logs.

So imagine my total surprise when I recently started getting a regular reader (yes, he/she didn’t even bother to update his outdated Firefox browser) from the CIA headquarters in Langley, Fairfax County, Virginia, a few miles west of Washington, D.C, USA. No bot, a real human being, kindly browsing my baby pictures and taking his/her time to read several of my posts. As this visitor is passing by during US office hours, he/she must be truly interested in this low-traffic blog from that tiny European kingdom by the sea. Thank you for visiting, ‘CIA’, I’m obviously proud being able to assist in “providing national security intelligence to senior US policymakers”.
If you’re a blogger, who’s your most famous visitor?

Me, aged two: The flashback edition

If you just happen to pass by in a hurry: this is a painting showing myself, based on a picture taken when I was 2 yo [please click to enlarge]

The details are less pleasing that this first glance ‘you looked so cute’ impression: I discovered this almost forgotten artwork last weekend on a pile of building rubble in the house that used to be inhabited by my grandparents. Most of us had multiple pictures taken when we were 1-2yo, pictures that have a tendency to end up all over the place: be it in neatly labeled albums, framed as a treasured memory by our relatives or even virtually forgotten in the proverbial shoebox. But no matter who we are, most of us have a visual memory dating back to the time when the world was new and full of promises.

Watching this particular artwork being treated like a disposable hamburger wrapper emotionally messed up my warm, sunny Antwerp weekend, as the events leading up to recovering this painting put me on an unexpected trip down memory lane.

My late grandmother adored me. Being the “mater familias”, she was a well educated woman with outspoken values and a heart of gold. I can no longer recollect the moment this portrait was painted, but I do remember the long warm summers we spent together, listening to her stories about how she traveled to the south of France, in an era most woman stayed at home and cooked their husband’s diner. She was frank and unreserved when she spotted social injustice, actually saving several people from being deported to Nazi Germany during the war. My grandfather confided in me how he just couldn’t imagine life without her, although his job often entailed they were separated for longer periods. But way before I started to realize how amazing she really was, she had my portrait painted, a portrait that she kept for decades above her favorite chair, surrounded by numerous memorabilia collected from (former Belgian colony) Congo.

Her death marked the end of an era. My grandfather’s health deteriorated, forcing him to move to a nursing facility, although each time I visit he still vividly recollects memories of my grandmother and stories that put a smile on my face.

Last year my brother felt he could use my grandparents large country house and its surrounding gardens, as his young children needed more space in a safer environment away from the big city. Well, so could I, but I could accept the emotional need of my parents to have their grandchildren within driving distance. My brother rents the property for only a symbolic payment, causing rather predictable family friction.

When I finally visited the house that had been the guardian of countless childhood memories, I was truly shocked. Not only the priceless antique pieces from Congo had already been replaced by more contemporary items, the entire house was being stripped and rebuild with little or no respect for my childhood memories. Every personal item had been removed, with frames and pictures casually tossed on a pile of building rubble. And that’s exactly where I found myself, two yo while holding on to my favorite bear: on a dusty pile of building rubble

Facebook: avoid at all costs

What have you done today, to make you feel proud?

When Belgian cable channel 2BE broadcasted the final scenes of the groundbreaking, gay US cult series Queer as folk last week (originally aired on Showtime USA, 2005), my s/o affectionately grabbed my hand when in the final scene, [main character] Brian [in his bombed gay dance club, victim of a violent anti-gay hate crime] started dancing to (YouTube video) Heather Small’s “Proud,” ["What have you done today to make you feel proud?"], a song that accompanied a pivotal scene between Brian and Michael in the very first episode of the series. It all ended with a semi-philosophical quote by Michael: “So the “thumpa thumpa” continues. It always will. No matter what happens. No matter who’s president. As our lady of Disco, the divine Miss Gloria Gaynor has always sung to us: We will survive.”

This American gay TV series was truly groundbreaking on many social levels. Although our dancing days may be over, to myself and my s/o this scene fundamentally conveyed the feeling that whatever the odds, no matter how many walls may have collapsed, we still strongly believe in ourselves, proud of who we fundamentally are. A most uplifting feeling on a rainy Belgian day. Are you proud too?