Party on my Roof (October)

Mas Observatorio

Can you guess which one is the astrophysicist?





6.5m mirror

mechanism for aiming the mirror


the "instrument" (a spectrograph developed by my cousin Gus); it collects light and separates it into different wavlengths



the man and his machine

the control room (there are a total of twenty monitors in the room, some of which are used for data analysis, but most of which are used to control the telescope itself; the large mirror has a honeycomb structure, beneath each section of which is an adjustable support system used to adjust the shape of the mirror to focus the light accurately)

Mendoza—Santiago—La Serena/Las Campanas

In Mendoza, on my way to Chile, I took a wine tour.
First stop, industrial-size winery with impossibly small doors.





A distillery—last stop on the Mendoza wine tour. Unremarkable except for the building.


This lunch was amazing. First time I've felt *full* since childhood.




People of various European nations, feasting after the wine tour.

Mendoza City.





Approaching the Andes.



Waiting at the Chilean border, on the icy upper shelf of the world.


From the La Serena airport to the observatory at Las Campanas, my driver (a friendly mechanic named Juan) and I spoke Spanish for two hours while driving in a brand-new, bright-red pickup truck along the coast (of course, in Chile, no matter where you are, you're probably near the coast). Juan's view was that life is all about going to the beach and drinking Pisco and having "sexo," as the act of love is called in Spanish. I considered his claims thoughtfully and found them hard to disagree with. Juan's children are (1) an electrical engineer and (2) an international business major. He has been working at the observatory for fifteen years. Charming fellow. We had a great time. Too bad I forgot to take a picture of him.



After a while, the way from La Serena to Las Campanas turns into a Martian wasteland. Tierra sin vida. Rocks everywhere.







One of the large, twin telescopes.

The other one (plus connective tissue).

View from Puerto Madero (sorry about the blur)

My friend Zack has a view of La Casa Rosada (The Pink House), where the president of Argentina works. It's just a few hundred yards away (oops, meters), across an avenue. Can you imagine being able to see into the White House from your kitchen? What about standing in your undies on the balcony where he could not avoid seeing your shiny-white gringo figure through the window of his office?

This here building, which looks like an elegant hotel, is the Argentine equivalent of the Pentagon. Some of the lights were on late at night. I thought about that for a while.

More C.U.B.A.

Milli Vanilli

Remember these guys?

Club Universidad de Buenos Aires (C.U.B.A.)

José the architect took me to his private marina club Saturday (the second day of spring in the southern hemisphere). We ate grilled steak sandwiches while watching boats pass and children frolick.

Argentine Delinquents

The perfect, new-spring weather brought a bustling crowd to Plaza Serrano last night. With a couple of friends at a patio table, I was beset by a group of ten-year-olds who wanted the leftover aluminum foil from my tortillas. Before I had time to process their request and respond, they had already snatched the foil from my plate and scurried to a bench in the near distance. In a flurry of ripping and folding, they sat making some sort of juvenile craft — an airplane, perhaps? Maybe some origami.

They made small foil pipes for smoking marijuana, which they did immediately, before proceeding to throw acorns at passersby.

Colonia, Uruguay

Note the green fellow in the middle.

Little boy sitting in a tree, fishing with dad.

Serene

Playground, rusty barbed wire.



A Dutch movie shoot. WWII soldiers relaxing between scenes.










There's a tree in this car...


...and a dinner table in this one.


The high contrast in this picture prevents you from seeing the water in the distance. But try to imagine it. — Also, fried balls of mashed potatoes are tremendous li'l joy-inducers!

Master of Steakimony

Discoball inside birdcage, lest the party escape.

Oven Garden


Terrible name for a van.

ALLEGORICAL MURAL!!! All right, let's see, we've got a chained man holding a spear. That must be frustrated sexuality. And on the right we have the sands of time flowing toward this nude woman's vagina. The distraction of adolescence?