Eurovision 2012: Summary of Semi-Final 2

Time for Eurovision Semi-Final 2! Sprinkle me with glitter and punch me in the face!

For those unfamiliar with Eurovision, I refer you to my recap of Semi-Final 1. For those without the will to click, here's a brief summary of what's going on tonight. A bunch of countries submit one song each to the contest, people across Europe vote for their favorite song, and the 10 most popular songs in tonight's field of 18 advance to Saturday's final. You cannot vote for your own country and you can only vote in the semi-final in which your country participates. And six countries skip the semi-finals completely and automatically advance to the finals. Confused? That's because the rules are stupid.

The hosts banter awkwardly in heavily-accented English. They explain the whole "Big Five" thing, where five countries get to skip the semis and go straight to the finals essentially because they are rich. This is really irritating and not fair. Fuck the Big Five. The sixth automatic advancer is last year's Eurovision-winning country, Azerbaijan. Because Azerbaijan won last year, that country has the honor of hosting this year's contest in the capital city of Baku, "The Sunny City," or "The Sport's City" [sic], or "The City of Jazz" depending on which propagandistic bumper segment shown during the telecast you wish to believe. Copiously missing is "Baku: The Center of Repressive Governance," but since it has so much to offer it's understandable that some of its charms have been omitted.

My friends and I (Ana, Ivan, Jelena, and Sisko) are seated in a Croatian kitchen, and we have bet five kune each on the results. We are also joined virtually by Ksenija in Ljubljana, who texts me her choices.

Here we go! Serbia's Željko Joksimović offers a strong performance. At one point the Kenny G-ish saxophonist strolls behind the singer, miming that he is playing despite the fact that we hear only strings. Many Balkan countries are performing tonight, which means they all have neighbors who might vote for them. Six votes "YES."

FYR Macedonia follows with a powerful and tasteful performance of its own. Once again we all vote "YES." We begin to worry that tonight's competition might actually be good, i.e., boring.

So thank goodness the Netherlands send out a woman wearing an American Indian headdress. We are uncertain what language she is performing in, until it slowly dawns on us that it is English. Europe has long had a tasteful fascination with Native Americans. Three "NO" votes, three "YES" votes.

During the "Come visit Azerbaijan—if you dare!" propaganda bumper segment we learn that Azerbaijan has a "Palace of Sheki Khan," and I start thinking "Sheki Khan let me rock you that's all I wanna do/Wanna love you wanna hold you wanna squeeze you too."

I try that joke out on my Croatian friends, but they don't seem to get it, maybe because not a lot of people remember Chaka Khan, but more probably because it just wasn't all that funny. Pretty interesting, huh?

Malta sends out a smiling, dancing robot man. He is a Gattaca-like model of Eurovision perfection. The song is OK, but then he does this astonishing fancy footwork thing, and we howl with joy. "Let's see that again!" we cry, weeping and clapping ecstatically. Later, during the recap, the producers wisely select this part of the performance as the highlight. All of us vote "YES."

Belarus will never advance in a Eurovision song contest because the "Last Dictatorship in Europe" (so bad a place to live that it makes Azerbaijan look good) has no friends. This bland rock band gives it their all. It is sad to think that later tonight these earnest young men will board a bus and take the long journey back to Minsk. There will be many misadventures along the way. Tears will be shed, laughter shared, and some friendships will turn into…something more. The bus will break down several times. Tires will be changed and new engine parts salvaged from various junk piles in Georgia and Russia. Never underestimate Belarusian ingenuity. Finally, in the middle of the night many months later, that beaten-up bus will arrive in Minsk, come to a stop, and then, with a mighty shudder, fall completely apart. President Lukashenko will greet each of the band members with a firm handshake. His other hand, held behind his back, will clutch a revolver. Four of us vote "NO" and two vote "YES."

Portugal offers the first of three songs tonight that will enjoy the distinction of receiving a unanimous six "NO" votes from us.

At last, we have a ha-cha-cha-cha woman, courtesy of Ukraine. "Be my guest!" she bellows while electronic dance beats pound behind her. A scary crowd of zombie Sims dance behind her on a giant video screen. It's really something. Four "YES" votes; two "NO."

Sofi Marinova, a well-known "chalga" singer in her native Bulgaria, performs "Love Unlimited," but despite the English title she sings in Bulgarian. This reflects a nice aspect of tonight's competition: there are lots of people singing in their native tongues. I don't remember hearing so many different languages in previous contests.

As Ana explains to me in that Zagreb kitchen, if you're sending a song to represent your country, and your native language is not English, it seems silly to sing in English. By the same token, if you come from the Netherlands and sing in English while wearing an American Indian headdress, you are colossally stupid.

Two Balkan countries, the ones I have been living in in recent months, are up next. We are not enthusiastic. Slovenia offers a Very Serious and Dramatic performance that is rewarded with a unanimous six "NO" votes from our panel. Croatia follows with a dull ballad that also garners six "NO" votes. Croatian and Slovenian nationalism is dead.

Sweden's Loreen is up next. She channels Kate Bush. Song has thumping beats and is very catchy. Hers is a real performance. It's the most interesting song of the night. This could even win it all. Six "YES" votes.

The most amazing performance of the night comes from Georgia. Anri Jokhadze begins by singing operatically while dressed as a monk. The robes come off, the leggy dancing girls appear, and Anri runs manically all over the stage, singing, dancing, and at one point pounding a piano. This guy should get his own TV show. Fuck that—this guy should get his own TV channel. Four votes "YES," two votes "NO."

It's a tough act for Turkey to follow. To complicate that country's chances even further, their song is shit. A skinny guy in a shiny black jacket tries his best to land the tween girl/gay male vote, but after Georgia's whirlwind performance the song's dullness and the singer's own lack of talent are palpable. Men dressed as bats jump around behind him. But as surely as they committed genocide against the Armenian people, tons of Turks througout Europe will vote for him anyway. Three votes "YES" and three votes "NO" from our Zagreb/Ljubljana panel of experts.

Estonia is next with a dull performance by Ken doll Ott Lepland. Four votes "NO" and two votes "YES."

Slovakia offer a hair metal band, and most of us assume that as there are no other hair metal bands in the competition they will get enough votes tonight to reach the finals. Best part of the song is the impressive opening shriek. Five votes "YES" and one vote "NO," from Ksenija, texting from Ljubljana.

Norway evidently kidnapped last year's "popular" Swedish singer Eric Saade and cloned him in order to create something called a "Tooji." The Tooji, Wikipedia notes, is "a Norwegian singer, model and television host." Song is big and dumb and gay and…really catchy! Four votes "YES" and two votes "NO."

Our last Balkan country, Bosnia & Herzegovina, performs. I have no memory of this song, but according to my notes our panel gave it three votes "YES" and three votes "NO."

Lithuania is last. Singer Donny Montell sings that "love is blind" while wearing a blindfold. But why is he wearing a blindfold? Oh, wait, I get it! Song is a dull ballad. Fuck, we have to end on this note? No! Because halfway through, Donny tears off the blindfold and does an improbable gymastics move as the tune transforms into a raucaus, banging dance song. Now everybody loves Donny Montell! We're clapping and shrieking and jumping up and down. Well, three of us anyway, who vote "YES," while the other three vote "NO."

Time for Europe to vote. For the first time ever I vote in a Eurovision song contest. I realize I am not a Croatian citizen and that the Eurovision police may track me down and lock me up for this transgression. I've already ditched the cell phone. But it was worth it. Clicking "send" was more exciting for me than casting my first vote in a U.S. presidential election. I cast my vote for Georgia, since I don't think the other entries I enjoyed tonight will need much help to get through.

When we return from a commercial break, we find that all the Eurovision winners of the last five years are belting out a manic and out of tune cover of ABBA's "Waterloo."

Random aside: according to the official Eurovision website, "Wireless microphones are not allowed in the premises of the Eurovision Song Contest."

Time for results!

Serbia - Yes! A worthy performance, no doubt further aided by bloc voting.

FYR Madeconia - Yes! Another safe, sort of dull, but perfectly competent entry.

Netherlands - No! Indian headdress—ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME NETHERLANDS?!?!?!

Malta - Hell yes! Fancy footwork dude is too cool to fail.

Belarus - Hell no! They're on that bus to the Minsk Death Camp as you read this.

Portugal - No! Since Spain is an automatically-advancing BIG FUCKING FIVE COUNTRY, and thus was ineligible to vote in tonight's semi-final, Portugal got no help from its neighbor.

Ukraine - Yes! The only ha-cha-cha-cha performance of the night gets through.

Bulgaria - No! Not a lot of chalga fans outside of Bulgaria.

Slovenia - No! Why on earth would we ever want to sit through that again?

Croatia - No! Slovenia and Croatia were both bad, but Croatia was the worst of the two.

Sweden - Hell yes! This could win the whole thing.

Georgia - No! Robbed! Definitely the best performance of the last two nights not to advance. And so went my 3.75 kuna vote.

Turkey - Yes! The Turkish voting bloc throughout Europe is a formidable thing. Think about that next time you order a kebab in Paris.

Estonia - Yes? Really? Yes! But-but-but...Fuckin' hell!

Slovakia - No. Hair metal is denied in Eurovision 2012. Only Ksenija in Ljubljana made the right call here.

Norway - Hell yes! Denmark (who performed on Tuesday), Sweden, and Norway all have strong entries. Look for all three to finish in the top ten on Saturday.

Bosnia & Herzegovina - Yes! It's good that this got voted through, since I have no memory of it. Now I can look forward to seeing/forgetting it again on Saturday.

Lithuania - Hell yes! We want to see that performance again.

The winners of tonight's betting pool: Sisko and Ksenija, who both picked 8 out of 10. The results are below:

And so Semi-Final 2 comes to an end. I'm really hung-over. Not sure how I'll make it through Saturday night's grand finale. "Eurovision! It Will Kill You!"

Eurovision 2012: Summary of Semi-Final 1

This year's Eurovision Song Contest host is Azerbaijan, probably the only country in the history of the competition to enjoy the distinction of having hauled its own citizens in for questioning at the Ministry of National Security over the way that they had voted in previous contests. Which is befitting a country that would also arrest a man in a donkey suit.

But Eurovision, the song contest that gave us ABBA, Celine Dione, and—did I mention ABBA?—continues to put on its cheery Joker face, insisting that it remains a celebration of peace and love, and that the host country, lovingly presented throughout the telecast in slow-motion, high definition glory, is paradise. Throughout Semi-Final 1 we are informed that Azerbaijan is "The Land of Poetry," and "Snow," and "Friends," although none of the Azeri people's friends are Armenians. Armenia and Azerbaijan are locked in a so-called "frozen conflict" over a piece of territory called Nagorno Karabakh. This is just a dumb Eurovision blog, so all you need to know about that whole thing is that it is one of several flash points around the world that could lead to World War III. As a result of the tension, Armenia is boycotting this year's Eurovision, and odds are good (unfortunately, for their political aspirations) that they will not be missed. That's what happens when you stomp out of a room in protest; everyone forgets you were ever there. Especially when there are 18 countries performing tonight in this first of two semi-finals.

To quickly explain to any Eurovision virgins what is going on here: Eurovision is a song contest started in 1956. It's sort of the granddaddy of the whole "Idol" concept. Each participating country sends a song, performed by a representative (who can come from pretty much anywhere; Canada's Celine Dion famously sang the winning entry for Switzerland in 1988), and then people across Europe (and a few other places, such as Israel) call in to vote for the song/country that they liked best. You cannot vote for your own country's song.

The winning country gets to host the competition the following year. Last year, Eldar and Nigar (given the more Anglicized names "Ell and Nikki" for Western audiences) from Azerbaijan sang the song that I very famously* predicted was going to win the whole thing. It really was worthy, but as soon as Azerbaijan won, the Eurovision organizers carved those cheerful Joker smiles onto their faces with pen knives, because in truth they knew this was going to be a political headache, considering that Armenia had frequently used Eurovision as a political platform in the past, and Azerbaijan bars Armenians from entry into their country. Anyway, like I said, Armenia boycotted, so...problem solved. Sure makes things easier for everyone when you just give up.

Let's go! Eighteen countries compete tonight—ten will advance to the final. On Thursday another batch will compete and another ten will advance. And to add to the fun, three Croatian friends and I are betting a nominal amount of money on which countries those will be. We are watching Semi-Final 1 in a kitchen somewhere in Zagreb.

From the always-cheery, exclamation-mark-peppered Eurovision website: "The hosts of the show are Nargiz Birk-Petersen, Eldar Gasimov who won the Eurovision last year as part of Ell/Nikki and Leyla Alieva who are all eager to welcome the millions of viewers to Baku for tonight's show!"

The off-camera Croatian narrator talks all over the hosts' greetings, which is annoying, and friend Zrinka, who is responsibly drinking tea while the rest of us pound Karlovačko beer, explains a new rule change that he is describing. I'll get to that in a moment, but about the rules in general...Eurovision constantly changes its voting rules in an effort to ensure that the process of selecting a winner is as undemocratic as possible. This is due in part to past complaints about "bloc voting." That's where, say, Ukraine votes for neighbor Russia and Russia votes for Ukraine. It's been traditional for Western European countries to pick on the Eastern ones for bloc voting, although Scandinavia and many other regions have been guilty of this for years.

Eurovision's undemocratic process is also due to certain countries' affluence; the countries with the largest TV viewing audiences and who put the most money into staging the competition tend to be handed several competitive advantages, including the fact that—and this is really unbelievable, but (really, fuck, I cannot believe I'm writing this)—the top five "biggest" countries (France, Germany, Italy, Spain, and the UK) get to SKIP THE SEMI-FINALS AND GO STRAIGHT TO THE FINAL. It's like saying that the athletes from the countries that fund the Olympics the most can skip all the qualifying heats and go straight to the final races. It's like saying a candidate for the Republican nomination for president could just buy the party's nomination—thank God that stuff doesn't happen in America. Anyway, this "skip right to the final" thing is why these irritatingly-labeled "big five" countries are RIGHTLY HATED by the rest of Europe, so much so that I am writing in ALL CAPS to YELL my DISENCHANTMENT.

So the new rule Zrinka explained to us...If your country is not performing in that night's semi-final, you cannot vote in that semi-final at all. That means that some countries tonight will get to enjoy a bloc voting advantage (for example, Romania and their Romanian-speaking neighbor Moldova both hit the stage tonight, so each can vote for the other), but poor Latvia has been cleaved from Lithuania and really has no friends to help it through this semi-final.

Montenegro is first up, with Rambo Amadeus, who has the distinction of having the best name and worst song of the night. Every year a country makes the mistake of mocking the competition by sending some joke entry, and it always backfires. That's because Eurovision is obviously ridiculous to begin with, and we viewers are OK with that. The song here is called "Euro Neuro," and the song is as crap as that title. Rambo Amadeus stumbles around like the last unloved drunk guy at a wedding reception, in a disheleved tuxedo, doing spoken-word poetry to a jazz funk soundtrack. He performs beside a Trojan horse while banners with messages like "Give me a chance to refinance" are unfurled. I am reminded of William Shatner's performance art.

All four of us in that Zagreb kitchen (Ivan, Sisko, Zrinka, and myself) vote "NO" on this guy. Nice knowin' ya, Rambo Amadeus.

Next up is Iceland's pretentious "Never Forget." Lots of serious facial expressions, and there's a woman who switches back and forth between playing violin and singing. It's terrible, but it has all the elements of a Eurovision winner, and so all four of us vote "YES."

The first of the inevitable leggy ha-cha-cha-cha girls performs. Greece's Eleftheria Eleftheriou sings "Aphrodisiac." Isn't this supposed to be a family show? "I want your aphrodisiac!" she yelps from atop mile-high legs. She's cute; the song is awful. But with Greece having such a tough time of things in the European Union, it seems a pity vote is inevitable. Plus, ha-cha-cha-cha! All four of us vote "YES."

Latvia are next with "Beautiful Song." It sounds like a masterpiece after Greece's "Aphrodisiac," but let's face it, these plain-looking women in their plain dresses are plainly not igniting the audience. And, as I mentioned earlier, neighbor Lithuania can't vote tonight, so Latvia are stranded. Nonetheless, somewhat hopefully I give them a "YES," while my friends more prudently offer three "NO" votes.

Albania's Rona Nishliu is next, belting out "Suus." I am informed that Albania suffered a terrible tragedy recently: at least 13 people were killed there in a university bus crash. Pity for Albania may carry them through to the finals.

But it turns out Rona is actually an excellent singer, and pity might not be necessary to get her through. In fact, she is probably the best singer of the night. The problem is that the song she is singing is terrifying. She howls and roars and barks and snarls and shrieks her way through it, eliciting applause from the audience throughout. It may be a case of the best singer singing the worst song of the night (except for "Euro Neuro"). I never want to hear this ever again. But audience applause indicates it will go through; three of us vote "YES" and Zrinka is the holdout with her more hopeful "NO."

Romania sends leggy ha-cha-cha-cha girl number two in the form of Mandinga. Song is an agreeable enough piece of Latin pop fluff. Moldova will vote for them as well tonight, so it seems a good bet it will advance. Four votes "YES."

Switzerland serves up some emo-esque rock thing called "Unbreakable," where we are informed that "You can do anything you want/It doesn't matter how hard it is." That's the sort of Eurovision lyric fans of the show love. No matter how untrue that is. I vote "NO," and the other three vote "YES."

Belgium sends a sweet, innocent young woman to sing a sweet, innocent song with the forgettable title, "Would You?" Props to backlighting her at the start of her performance in the flimsy dress, however, to counter all that innocence. But four out of four of us vote "NO."

Finland is next. The song is good—maybe even "great," at least in that "In the Kingdom of the Blind the One-Eyed Are Kings" sense. The singer has great poise. But I vote "NO" because she is singing in Finnish Swedish**, and generally it's not a good idea to sing in a non-English language at Eurovision. Yes, there have been recent Eurovision winners who sang in their native, non-English tongue, but it's a very rare thing. People would rather hear bad English than good Swedish. Anyway, "NO" from me, but three "YES" votes from the others in that Zagreb kitchen.

Israel sends out a foppish guy fronting a goofy band performing something like 50's rock 'n' roll. It's actually pretty difficult to watch. "We're quirky and fun!" they seem to cry—desperately. Four "NO" votes.

San Marino, The Country No One Knows About, performs next. OK, a little geography. Tiny San Marino is surrounded by Italy, but since Italy is an automatically-advancing "big five" country, and therefore is ineligible to vote in the semis, San Marino will get no Italian votes tonight. Song is a sort of synth poppy thing with the timely title of "The Social Network Song," and the timeless subtitle of "Oh Oh - Uh - Oh Oh" appended to it. I'm on the fence on this one, but I decide in the end to vote "NO." My three friends agree.

Cyprus sends us leggy ha-cha-cha-cha girl number three. The moment she opens her mouth to sing, the blood in all our veins turns to ice. She is horrible. Horrible! The only way she is going to get through is via sex appeal. Two of us, myself included, vote "NO," but the other two wager that sex appeal will win the day for Cyprus.

As of this semi-final, my pick to win the whole competition is Denmark. The song is catchy, safe, and sung by a cute young woman who wears a fetching sailor hat and epaulets. She sounds rusty when she begins, not as good as she did in the Danish competition where she was originally selected (yep, I'm a Euro music junkie), but the song gradually wins people over. Four out of four of us vote "YES." On to my third half litre of beer.

Russia's entry has gotten a lot of attention. The song is sung by a group of adorable old babushkas who perform in traditional folk vocal style before techno beats start playing underneath them. Old women singing to techno! How cute! They mime baking bread. The "maybe it's true" story, I am told, is that they are raising money for a church. It would take a heartless person to vote against them.

I am such a person. They are actually quite bad. As an insufferably pretentious music nerd, I have listened to many such folk performances from Ukraine and Russia, and I have to say these women sound pitchy, a bit off time, and damn, this whole concept is just shameless pandering, isn't it? I see Vladimir Putin chortling over a vodka. "I'm brilliant!" he says before sinking the shot, for he probably rigged the selection process to get them through in the first place. "No one will DARE vote against a group of adorable old women!"

A quick cut to the audience reveals a bunch of people waving their flags with moderate gusto and slightly bored expressions, as if they are saying, "Hey, I guess this is supposed to be fun or something!" For a moment I wonder if the lyrics the kindly grandmothers are singing are: "Russia will drink your blood/From the goblets of your skulls!" Anyway, there's absolutely no way this won't advance. All four of us vote "YES," recognizing that terrible inevitability.

Hungary sends a perfectly agreeable and catchy rock song called "Sound of Our Hearts" by Compact Disco, and seeing that there are not many viable rock entries in this semi-final I reckon they're more likely to get through than that Swiss group we've already forgotten about. So, three "YES" votes, with the abstaining "NO" coming from Zrinka, who at this stage has been very unimpressed with the entries in general.

Austria sends Trackshittaz, a rap duo who, about a year ago, an Austrian friend once personally apologized to me for. Let me reiterate: they are called "Trackshittaz." "Trackshittaz" and "Aphrodisiac" in the same night; a very raunchy Eurovision 2012! Three of us vote "NO," but Zrinka finds the song quite catchy, and it's true that you can even hear people in the audience chanting along to it.

Moldova sends a likeable enough guy, and there haven't been many likeable enough guys in the competition for the women and gay men in the TV audience out there to vote for. Plus, Romania will vote for them tonight, so I vote "YES" along with Zrinka on that one, and the other lads vote "NO."

Finally, Ireland sends its most adored cultural icon after the leprechaun: a Jedward. These identical twin brothers represented Ireland last year, and they placed very well (Ireland landed in 8th place in the final). They wear white Flash Gordon-esque outfits. I am informed that they have had their hair insured. I think it would be great if Ireland sent Jedward to every Eurovision from now until the day they die.

With that, it's on to the voting. For about half an hour, citizens from 18 countries phone in their votes, but we Croatians and pseudo-Croatians are powerless to affect the results and will have to wait until Thursday to have our say in Semi-Final 2. During the break there is a long performance of traditional Azeri folk music, and we see that the leggy Greek singer is getting into it, ha-cha-cha-cha.

Finally, the results are announced, with the usual unfunny "draw out the suspense" teasing from the host. Who will be the 10 who advance?

Montenegro's Rambo Amadeus - Hell no! You can't mock a contest that already knows it's ridiculous.

Iceland - Yes! Look serious and wield a violin and your chances are pretty good.

Greece - Yes! Ha-cha-cha-cha!

Latvia - No! Which leaves me wondering, why did I throw away my prediction on them despite all the evidence to the contrary?

Albania - Yes! Which means you should bring earplugs to the Saturday finale.

Romania - Yes! Ha-cha-cha-cha number 2.

Switzerland - No! Who can even remember this act?

Belgium - No! Too sweet and safe and…zzzzzzzz.

Finland - No! And this beomes a subject of much debate between my friends and me. I continue to go by my, "If it ain't in English, it probably ain't advancing" argument. Actually, if folks are going to sing in English more, more entries should use the word "ain't."

Israel - No! It was so crazy wacky! Oooo, my head hurt!

San Marino - Oh oh - uh - no no.

Cyprus - Yes! Ha-cha-cha-cha number 3. A pretty face and legs will get you far in life.

Denmark - Yes! And I repeat, I think this sounds like it could be the overall winner.

Russia - Yes! Of course you can't vote against adorable babushkas.

Hungary - Yes! It was the one rock-ish number allowed to survive the night, and will ensure at least a tiny bit of variety on Saturday's final.

Austria - Hell no! They were called "Trackshittaz"!

Moldova - Yes! "He's such a happy and nice young man, let us vote for him!" Plus, there was a hora.

Jedward. I mean, Ireland! - Of course! Who wouldn't want to see that performance again, if only to gawk?

With that, the results of our betting pool are as shown below.

Yep, I won. B-) I collected enough money to buy half a sandwich today. Which is good, considering yesterday I received a formal email from my office requesting my letter of resignation. Seems I have spent too much time over here. Anyone have any need for a writer who specializes in Eurovision song contests?

See you after Semi-Final 2.

* Actually, nobody noticed or cared.

** Thanks to Ksenija, who corrected me on what language the Finnish singer was singing in. Who'd a thunk Finland would send a singer who warbled in Swedish? Reports Wikipedia: "It is the second time Swedish lyrics are used for a Finnish entry in the Eurovision Song Contest, the first being 'Fri?' performed by Beat in 1990."

King Pigeon at Plan B - Fridays

1 May 2012 - King Pigeon Spins at Plan B Bar, Zagreb

Set 35: Conceived in Zagreb, Born in Ljubljana

It's finished at last! Recording began back in February, and last night I finally gave it the final thumbs-up (despite some touches of distortion on a couple of the older tracks; casualties of the compression/loudness wars going on in music production). It rocks hard. I hope you enjoy it!

The flyer
The list of featured songs

Travel

As I enter my fifth month in Europe, I realize I am quite fortunate compared to the hostel-dwelling denizens who pass through these cities for only a day or two at a time. Of course, they are freer than I am, free to travel to any number of countries on a whim, financially secure in the knowledge that a life (and, often, a job) awaits them back in the U.S., or Britain, or wherever else they hail. For a few months after they return home their bank accounts will sting, but eventually those temporarily lightened wallets will bulk up and, as the jet-lag and the memories fade, these people will gracefully segue back into the worlds they were born into and are most comfortable.

I envy such travelers because they are often young and full of unbounded energy. They live life two or three times harder than I do, as if impelled by some biological force that reminds them that, if life isn't always short, youth certainly is, and youth is its own valuable currency. They stay out past 3 AM every night spending it, share rooms with five or more other people—at least one of whom snores terribly—and recklessly cram as many life experiences as possible into 36 or 48 hour cycles. They experience two sensations as a result: 1) the romantic feeling of being in a lucid dream as they wander the rain-slicked streets of Paris after four hours of sleep, and 2) some extremely painful hangovers.

For some, the hangovers become worse later in life, when the older versions of themselves reflect on the good times they had way-back-when and start to hear the siren call, as I did, inviting them to return for another round of drinks and adventure that might even exceed the intensity of those bouts enjoyed during those earlier days of youthful inebriation.

Today, I am a participant (an admittedly minor one, but nonetheless) in life here, as opposed to a garrulous bird migrating through for a day or two, squawking over drinks with similar transient species while the native pigeons putter about, tiredly serving beers to that colorful foreign flock while entertaining escape fantasies of their own.

I live between two worlds, half native pigeon, half exotic transient. Call me an exotic pigeon, perhaps. Sure, it's silly, but it fits my epic metaphor. And every day and night that I go out I realize that at any moment some unexpected gale may blow me irrevocably in the direction of one of those worlds or the other.

DJ King Pigeon Returns to Zagreb Saturday 25 February