108. I Saw Seinfeld in Serbia

Day 108
Location 19: Belgrade, Serbia
Feb. 16, 2023

"Who leaves a country packed with ponies to come to a non-pony country?!" 

It's a fair question. And it's what Jerry asks in a famous Seinfeld episode after accidentally offending his elderly Polish relative. He offends her by asserting his hatred for pony owners before it's revealed that this old woman's entire family owned ponies back in Poland.  (You can watch the relevant clip below.)

Seinfeld defends his accidental equestrian insult by yelling—in his best Seinfeld voice—"who leaves a country packed with ponies to come to a non-pony country?!" 

And I agree with him. In fact, I'd take Jerry's question one step further. With the knowledge that hundreds of thousands of Serbs have immigrated to the United States, I ask you "who leaves a country packed with pandas to come to a non-panda country?!"

In addition to pandas, the streets of Belgrade are littered with buskers. As such, I'd like to discuss a a weird phenomenon that happens for a street performance. Not just any street performance, but that street performance. 

Anyone who's lived in New York or Boston or any major city knows what I mean. It's that one where break dancers slowly amass a large crowd of spectators with a performance that culminates in a final, spectacular display of acrobatics: the star dancer jumping over some people.
For the uninitiated, it's a tired routine that expertly separates tourists from their money. My favorite gimmick is when they ask the crowd "where's a rich white guy?" and then basically pressure the volunteered victim into giving them a $100 bill. 
The first time you pass this performance, you're inexorably drawn to it like a cartoon dog floating through the air in the direction of a visibly savory aroma emanating from a freshly baked pie on a windowsill.

Then it happens: Anytime you pass this performance after the first time, you've never been less interested in anything in your life. In addition to the newfound disinterest, you'll even find yourself judging anyone dumb enough to stop and watch this drivel. The music and jokes and gyrations you once found tantalizing, now somehow seem dull and annoying.

The change from "wow they're so funny and entertaining" to "I wish they'd turn that music down" is an inexplicable transformation that scientists continue to examine to this day.

Anyway, today in Belgrade, I got to see the familiar performance 4,500 miles from home.
It was like seeing the production of a familiar Broadway show in London's West End. The lines, choreography, and music were all the same—the only thing that had changed was the location. 

Ugh, just look at these idiots watching this drivel.