Last night Pete's dad came up to give him a ride back down to Rahway. Pete convinced him to come in for a bit, and ended up staying for a while. He had many shots, mostly triple sec, and shared many stories of Europe. Pete threw in a few as well, but his dad was full of memories and good cheer. Romania, Russia, Poland, obscure tiny countries left behind after the cold war or even during the cold war, too many places to list. Funny bits where knowing over two dozen languages helped, bribing officials, border crossing scenarios, waking up in odd places in Transylvania, dozens of great moments. Pete talked about going to Russia, the dread relatives filled him with regarding Russia, and his first moments there. The contrast between the stories from the sixties and the nineties wasn't as great as one might expect. The power of the yankee dollar, the poverty of a small Eastern European village, the castles that communism didn't build upon as the west did. Pete and I discussed visiting Mexico City some day.
After they left, I played a bit on the computer before going to sleep. Having been up extremely late for a meeting on cybersphere after the Yanks won Thursday, I needed the sleep.