28.02.17 - Em rio que tem piranha, jacaré nada de costas

'ello 'ello 'ello,

Lovely to chat yesterday - as I mentioned we're currently in the throes of moving further down the road, in a last-ditch attempt to escape dogs and building work before one of us snaps...  The new flat is looking good, and just needs a few minor tweaks before we can move in at the weekend, plus it's next door to a cemetery and - as the saying goes - dead men tell no tales and don't drill and hammer right above your head for six straight weeks. 

We've already made what is probably the first of many trips to the hardware store, whose most striking feature is a sort of "paint bar" where you order two gallons of "Desert Rose" or "Silver Shore" and the barmen mix it all together using computer wizardry and a massive centrifuge machine, while I thumb through the sample book and crack "50 Shades of Grey" jokes that they've almost definitely never heard before.   Here feels like a good place to register our shock and disgust at the price of bathroom fittings, which I can only assume were all hand-crafted by Nepalese artisans and imported by Lear jet. 

Such thrills and spills mean we've missed out on Carnaval completely, but with the rain it sounded like a bit of a wash-out this year; I'll do an in-depth expose on the blood, sweat and tears that go into the yearly processions... some other time. In the meanwhile I've thrown together a new compilation (hope it works!), and this week's phrase translates as "in a river full of piranhas, the alligator swims on his back", i.e. it's worth defending your weak spots in tough situations.

That will be all - will send lots of photos once we're settled in next to the stiffs...

Burn That Broken Fred

21.02.17 - Entrar de gaiato no navio

Tally ho me old China, hope all well in the ol' South of France. With building work still raging overhead and Gaby's new job kicking up a notch, I tagged along last week as she visited a bunch of shopping centres around town and grilled iStore employees as to why they weren't raking in the cash.  

They ran the gamut from the decidedly run-down mall in Guarulhos, where Gaby got funny looks for wearing proper shoes, to the outrageously posh Cidade Jardim - a sort of open-air Hanging Gardens of Babylon/Starship Titanic behemoth by the Ary Torres bridge, where in the space of a few hours Gaby witnessed several clients wandering in and buying new iPhone 7's, in cash, on the flimsiest of pretexts (strangely there was also a dirt-cheap sale of English-language books going on next door, which I took full advantage of).  We ended up napping in the JK Iguatemi car park on Friday night to avoid rush hour traffic, before heading to a colleague of Ridaut's for pizza.

At the weekend we got back to our roots with a trip to the Pacaembu market for a pastel or five, followed by a now regular trip to the Horto Florestal on Sunday morning for a brisk stroll (was glad to note that the capybaras are back from their hiatus and munching away on water lilies). In other news we grow ever closer to ditching Dogtown, SP for quieter quarters, hopefully some time this week; and Carnaval is in full swing but neither of us are that bothered - I fully expect to have to work through it, and Gaby is focussed on picking the right shade of wallpaper (not to mention her course starting up again), so we're giving it a miss this year. 

My phrase of the week - "to board the boat on a whim/as a lark" - means to sign up for something without the necessary experience, and end up winging it with mixed results.  I've also gone done another compilation, which should be listened to LOUD, to drown out the HAMMERING and DRILLING.

Speak soon!

A Rush of Blood to the Fred

14.02.17 - Ser unha e carne

Hallooooo,

Hope all well witchu...  Building work continues apace overhead, as we seek ever more inventive ways to flee the house during the day, but we've found a promising lead at a rather nice flat down the road, so fingers crossed that the paperwork pans out with that and we'll be a-movin' soon.

The weekend saw trips to São Caetano do Sul for Luiza's birthday party, which was full of screaming teenagers but also meat ("carne louca", or "mad meat", to be precise), to the talking pictures to see "La La Land" (oh how we waltzed and tried ineptly to tap-dance afterwards), and to the park for a wander with Gaby and her grandma, featuring more monkeys and a very overheated cat.  I was also asked to film an experimental hydro-ballet class underwater at the gym using Ridaut's GoPro, as you do.

No compilation this week (unless you're interested in a mixtape of the best drilling and hammering moments from the past week?), so you'll have to make do with my phrase of the week ("to be nail and flesh"), which is roughly equivalent to two people being "hand in glove", i.e. very close indeed...

Speak soon!

Three Colours: Fred

PS: I kid, I kid - here's this week's compilation, ready in the nick of time.

07.02.17 - Se acercar vira hospício, se cobrir vira circo

Halloooo,

Building work continues merrily on overhead, so I write to you a from a nearby café - to be honest it's not much quieter here (there's a guy making endless smoothies just yards away) but at least I have some kind of agency over my surroundings... 

On Sunday Gaby and I went to a possibly-monthly gathering of musical types in a Zona Sul studio, where I unleashed weeks of pent-up dog-and-building-related rage on the drums, as my colleagues worked their way through a grunge-based repertoire.  It's slightly bizarre how whenever two or more men are gathered together with guitars over here, then they will earnestly emote to "Black" by Pearl Jam; I also had to quickly remember how to Grohl along to "Aneurysm" by Nirvana.  In any case, good fun was had by all.

Earlier in the week Gaby and Patricia pitched their psych wares to the latter's former company, which I'm told went quite well.   On Saturday we went to a tapas bar on fashionable Rua Augusta, complete with kilos of jamón dangling from the roof-beams, for a masters-er's birthday party, followed by another brisk walk through the Horto Florestal the following morning (no monkeys this time though, and the capybaras seem to have been evicted).

I have made another compilation for your ears only, and my phrase of the week - "if you put a wall round it, it's an asylum; if you put a roof on it, it's a circus" - snidely refers to the nation's political establishment in Brasilia, and of course could be applied to any number of administrations at the moment. 

And I'm spent... 

Fredders

31.01.17 - É muito cacique para pouco índio

Good Moleman to you,

Work has exploded into life after lying dormant for a blissful couple of weeks, plus the shed-building upstairs shows no sign of stopping, so it's been a bit hectic of late - but, in between regularly fleeing our own house and watching the collapse of Western civilisation online, Gaby's been putting together a new business venture with a team of crack psych-merchants, and I finally got my guitar to behave at a Prince-filled open mic night, which was most fun.

At the weekend we went to an eclair emporium, ostensibly for a meeting with said potential business partners, but mainly so I could try a SOLID GOLD ECLAIR with passion fruit filling, which was pretty special.   We also went for an ice-cream fest with some of Gaby's masters friends the next day, having briefly lapsed into a state of fitness during a constitutional walk round the sunny Horto Florestal, accompanied by a troop of monkeys.

I've thrown together another compilation - 'tis but a trifle, ma'am - and my phrase of the week ("lots of chiefs and not enough indians") refers to organisations with too many people calling the shots, to the general confusion of all.  I can't say I've had much call to use it, but I hope it proves useful to you in these troubled times.

Speak soon!

(A) Fred (in Need (is a Fred indeed))

24.01.17 - Kkkk

Wotcha,

Not much to report this week from a rainy São Paulo, where the people upstairs seem to have started building a bowling alley right above my head... On Friday I made a mean mango mousse cake, although I won't post any photos as they make it look like a tupperware full of sick (presentation needs work, but it tastes pretty good!). Gaby and I also made our speciality, sweet & sour chicken with Thai rice - no photos of that either, as I ate it all before we had the chance.

On Saturday we went to Santo André for a BBQ, thus completing my tour of the "ABC" trifecta outside São Paulo, in reverse chronological order (São Caetano do Sul, São Bernardo do Campo, Santo André). The city itself isn't much of a looker but we passed an "Avenida Príncipe de Gales" ("Prince of Wales Avenue") on our way, which I must remember to mention to Charles when I next see him...

Although my new headphones have been doing some seriously heavy lifting in the noise cancellation dpt. this week, the upshot is another compilation... As for my Phrase of the Week: "kkkk" is the Brazilian "LOL", used online as an onomatopoeia to denote mirth, rather than any allegiance to the Ku Klux Klan (although the similarity often leads to hilarious, po-faced Facebook posts by concerned elders, scolding the youth for inadvertently promoting right-wing extremists).  

That this PotW coincides with the inauguration of our new Leader of the Free World is pure coincidence. 

While we're at it, and for the avoidance of doubt, "bjs" is short for "beijos" ("kisses") and not whatever you're imagining; and "abs" is "abraços" ("hugs"), unless I'm misinterpreting everyone wishing me fabulous abs via WhatsApp. Now you should have no trouble blending in with the Brazilian Twitterati...

Best regards,

The Last Fred-i

17.01.17 - Testa de ferro

Hallooo,

Hope all well with you lot. Am back to work having been given an extra week off by my boss, in an uncharacteristic display of largesse. Spent my stay of execution mostly flopping about - our post-trip all-salad diet lasted all of three days before I bought cake, and also learned to make a different kind of cake with Gaby's grandma, who was on cat watch at the in-laws' (the latter also returned from NYC on Sunday, bearing gifts and gadgets).

I also went on random wanders to Rua Oscar Freire (posh street, lots of cafés) and Itaim (more cafés), and we went to the Silvio Santos retrospective exhibition at the Museum of Sound and Vision on Friday, which was mildly amusing - Gaby and her grandma had a fine time recreating old gameshow routines, and I photographing them doing so.  You may remember Silvio Santos from my earlier profile, which can be found here.  Gaby also gave her first class yesterday, teaching laymen and women about behaviourism - by all accounts it was a roaring success.

I have come up with another, rather pensive compilation, and another expression of the week - "testa de ferro" ("iron forehead"), which designates someone who is presented as the figurehead of an organisation in place of the actual powers-that-be (à la Trump Jr.), and dates back to when lowly sailors were pushed to the front of the boat to ward off attackers.  "Testa de laranja" ("orange forehead") means pretty much the same thing, except the organisation's activities are shady and the figurehead stands to take the fall if they're found out.  Not sure where the "orange" bit comes from.  All clear?

Ciao for now,

Fred Men Don't Wear Plaid