"Next to a circus there ain't nothing that packs up and tears out faster than the Christmas spirit." -Kin Hubbard"Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper." -Friedrich Nietzsche . I truly believe that tragedy can bring out the best in people... & that the holidays can bring out the worst. Humans are fucked up like that. In spite of everyone's best intentions, sometimes holiday gatherings get tense or chaotic. No matter how hard you try, you may still end up feeling as though you've stepped out of reality & into one of those ridiculous Christmas movies where everything goes wrong.We arrived at our destination in rural PA a day late. We got to see a few relatives - some that I had not seen in several years & that Olivier had never met. We had a great time - in spite of my occasional fits of choking on mucous & bleeding from the...
It's all quite blurry now, but what I remember of it all is full of various landscapes, faces and suitcases. There was eating, drinking, merriment and... mucous. Fucking holiday travel. It's always a lot of planning and stress, but we had a plan. A simple plan. There was no way it could fail. We had a direct flight from Paris to Pittsburgh, PA. We would rent a car, then drive 3 hours to a tiny, rural town just outside the middle-of-freaking-nowhere. After 1 week, we would board a Greyhound bus to Colorado. Another week there and we would fly from Denver back to Paris. There were various parties, reunions and get-togethers planned in several different locations with dozens of people. Okay, so it wasn't really such a simple plan. Maybe we'd hit a snag here or there; 1 or 2 little things could go wrong. Or... everything could go wrong. Olivier and I woke up at 4:30am on December 20th. I stared at the wall with...
"'Mid pleasures and palaces through we may roam, Be it ever so humble, there's no place like Home." -J. Howard Payne"A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it." -George Moore "I have measured out my life with coffee spoons." -T.S. Eliot* * * I stared out the window, watching Germany roll by as we made our way to Freiburg. "You know," I said to Olivier. "I can't recall the last time that I had a decent cup of coffee." He pulled on his beard as he steered our little Renault up the highway, recalling all of the cups of coffee we'd drunk over the past days.Then he said, "We haven't had a decent cup of coffee since we left France." It was true. I had some drip coffee from a bakery with my kanelgiffel in Copenhagen. We made some nasty instant sludge while camping in Sweden and had some watered-down American style joe with our Frühstück in...
After we had left ever-changing Berlin behind us and the gray nightmares of the concentration camp, Olivier and I headed south, where everything had slowly changed from gray to green and the sharp, hard edges of barracks and cities had smoothed, turning into the rolling hills of Bavaria and the Black Forest of Germany. Since we had entered a new region, I began fidgeting around with the buttons on the radio, to see what it sounded like here. Immediately, I was reminded of this: httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAUP1wsmqUU Indeed, that's what Bavaria sounds like. What Bavaria looks like is probably just as one might imagine. As cliché as it sounds, the scenery and architecture of the homes did remind me very much of those Grimm's Fairy Tales that I read when I was just a wee little Razzy. "People here don't greet one another with 'Guten Tag'," Olivier told me. "People in this region greet one another with 'Grüß Gott'." "Uh-huh", I said. "So, what does that mean? What's the difference?" "Grüß...
"First they came for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up, because I wasn’t a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up, because I wasn’t a Jew. Then they came for the Catholics, and I didn’t speak up, because I was a Protestant. Then they came for me, and by that time there was no one left to speak up for me." -Martin Niemöller * * * This is the blog post that I almost didn't write. I debated long and hard about it, knowing that I could never do justice to the topic, that I wasn't worthy and I would have to abandon the mockery, snark and sarcasm in order to discuss it. Let's face it - as much as I hate it, some shit just isn't funny. In the end, I decided to sober up and write it, knowing that I still can do no justice to the topic, but the fact that it is such...
"Gotta go over the Berlin Wall I don't understand it.... I gotta go over the wall I don't understand this bit at all...." -Sex Pistols, Holiday in the Sun * * * The world is full of great cities, each of them considered "great" for reasons all their own. I haven't seen them all and there's a good chance that I never will, but I've seen a few. I've been rained on in London. I've stepped in Parisian doggie doo on my way to the Eiffel Tower. I've drunk sweet, sweet Guinness in Dublin. I've done a shitty Sean Connery imitation in Edinburgh. I have yet to argue with a NYC cab driver, but it's on my list of clichés to act out. Then there's Berlin. Sure, I consumed sausages, beer and sauerkraut in Berlin, so there's one more big city cliché checked off on the list, but there's so much more to it. I went crazy in Berlin. I walked around slack-jawed, laughed, learned, cried and shook my fist at Berlin while...
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